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#like where were you earlier???? why care now???? it angers him so much
nympippi · 1 year
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Necromancer Finney AU: Adults in general aren’t sure how to feel about Vance. On one hand, he’s got that infamous short temper. On the other hand, he’s been through quite a bit, even before the Grabber incident. Ultimately, it’s generally agreed that Vance is a victim of terrible circumstances and is reacting accordingly to them
I’m actually unsure on this one because I do think maybe in a town like Denver they’d definitely sympathize with him, and feel for his pain but at the same time I think Vance would hate it. Because it’s only after Vance has to undergo massive amounts of trauma and pain for the adults around him to see him as a kid and not some criminal.
it’s showing him that the adults had potential to care but they never did. And instead of working with him, they work against him labeling him as a troubled child who would end up seriously hurting someone. …I don’t know, I’m not too sure on my stance or have any ideas on the adults in tbp but I do headcannon Vance to dislike adults to a serious degree and it only gets worse after his kidnapping.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
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Would you be willing to write a Miguel x Spider!Reader oneshot where they’re arguing over something the reader did on a mission. And in the heat of an argument, Miguel yells “Because I love you!” at the perfectly wrong time, revealing why he cares about the reader’s safety.
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‘What the hell was that back there. You could’ve jeopardised the whole mission with that reckless stunt you pulled back there!’ Miguel barked, ripping off mask the first moment moment he could; Hellfire were setting ablaze to his beautiful scarlet eyes that were zeroed in on you as the anger, the frustration upon his face became prominent the more he closed the distance between you.
‘When will you let this go, Miguel. When we became Spider-Man we knew the risks that we were running with-‘ ‘so you thought it’d be better to take a running head start by taking the leap and then diving headfirst into them?!’ Miguel cuts you off and with an indignant huff he adds, ‘you don’t get extra points for being reckless, this isn’t some little game that you can just come back to when you feel like it. No, what we do is a full time commitment with no room for last minute deviations just because you were feeling more heroic.’
You grit your teeth. You respected Miguel, you truly did and at one point in time you wanted to do right by his little rule book of how to be a great hero. However you soon learned that it’s better to play by your own rules rather then it was to play by those made by others and slowly but surly found a method that worked for you. For no two methods were the same when it came to protecting and saving people but if they both end in the same conclusion, then no one should be able to raise an issue with it. At the end of the day you and Miguel saved people from a much bigger problem if left unchecked; so why was it that all of a sudden he had an issue with your methods?
It never upset him this much before, so why now. Did he think you as incapable? As unreliable? As untrustworthy to fully let you handle a situation on your own? Whatever it was it only proved in pissing you off despite your semi-injured state; you didn’t care that you’ve gotten hurt, you’ve gotten hurt plenty of times before and he never once batted an eye or exemplified his emotions as he did as of right now. You could barely get a read on the guy as he stood mere feet away, chest heaving even though he wasn’t out of breath, eyes wide and his hair slightly disheveled from the way he had torn off his mask earlier.
And yet you couldn’t help but find him beautiful in his anger, for it was like witnessing the makings of a Greek tragedy; beautifully written, yet so heartbreakingly tragic.
‘Why does it matter?’ You spat, getting up, despite your injured leg’s desire to buckle beneath the weight of not only you but the situation at hand. You saw the briefest movements of Miguel’s arms almost stretch out to instinctively catch you but stopping midway through the motion before going slack at his sides once more; as though remembering why he was mad at you in the first place. ‘It never mattered before, so why does it matter now? You don’t hound the others for doing it so why is it me that’s getting shit on for doing the same when I ain’t the first to do so!’
‘Because I love you!’ Miguel exclaimed.
The silence afterwards was almost deafening. Miguel’s outburst quieted you quickly as a thousand and one thoughts raced in your head; how long? why now? Was this merely a ruse to silence you so he could badger on at you for your supposed mistake? You didn’t know what to make of anything anymore now that he said that. You didn’t want to believe it for starters on the basis that not once had he ever shown interest in you, if anything he made it apparent to push you away or avoid you entirely from any and all interaction, and even when he did it was comprised of short responses that left the attempts at conversation to die as an overwhelming awkwardness forced you into leaving him be.
‘What?’
‘I love you.’ Miguel repeated, softer this time.
‘I get that but why-‘ ‘haven’t I shown it until now? As stupid as it sounds but I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me and look where you are,’ he gestured to your injured state, ‘hurt because of me.’ He adds defeatedly. You were about to open your mouth when Miguel raised a hand, indicating that he wasn’t finished, ‘I know I haven’t given you any reason to believe me when I say that I love you. I avoid you like the plague and I push you away whenever I see you starting to get too close and respond in a clipped tone of voice so that you’d loose interest and move on to talk to someone else.’
He stopped talking to move in closer to you, grasping you by arms with a firm grip as all the anger in his face seemingly having been melted away. The raging hellfire that once consumed his scarlet eyes in their entirety had been diminished to that of dying ambers, unveiling his admiration, his worry, his guilt and most importantly, his love; the sneer now long gone was replaced by a softer more tender expression that didn’t hide away the worry lines that were deeply etched into his skin. ‘I don’t deserve you, I’m not worth having you because sooner or later you’ll see me the way I’ve always seen myself and I’d rather you be as far away as possible when that happens.’ Miguel said, making sure he was maintaining eye contact with you the entire time to prove that he was being wholeheartedly genuine, not wanting to lie to you about something as personal as his feelings; He’s done that for long enough, Miguel knew his breaking point was upon the incline and seeing you act the way you did during the mission only fast forward it.
‘Yet for some inexplicable reason I can’t stop myself for wanting to protect you, to make sure you’re safe, to make sure that you never come to harm. At first I thought it was because I was looking out for a teammate, making sure you didn’t slip up and cause more potential problems for the rest of us, making sure that you didn’t let a single perpetrator slip but soon I learnt it was far more then just simply looking after a teammate...’ Miguel paused to blink away the images regarding of the nightmares he’d get concerning you, which were few and far between but those times were enough to suffocate him with fear. ‘It was something more and I grew scared, I grew scared because I know what it’s like to loose it all but for some reason I also knew that loosing you would just be the nail in the coffin for me.’
Miguel admits as he presses his forehead against your own, his hands trailing from up your arms until they’re caressing the skin of either side of your neck between calloused thumbs. He closing his eyes and allows himself to breath you in, reminding himself that you were here and that he managed to get to you before anything else could, that he kept you safe, not from all harm but at least from some of it and that was good enough but he knew deep down that he needed the do better. ‘Don’t make me imagine a life without you,’ he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours just that tiny bit harder as his fingertips found their home where your pulse points were to remind him that you weren’t gone completely from his grasp, ‘for I don’t think I’m strong enough to withstand that reality.’
‘You don’t have to.’ You told him softly, lifting your hands to caresses the skin of his cheeks and feeling him effectively melt within your hold. ‘Not anymore.’
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svnarin · 5 months
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- so like maybe like a fic/drabble/whatever with suna when reader and him get in a fight and reader leaves to like cool down or sum- and reader gets hurt bad :3
idk man it’s cringy and wattpad coded but I like that shit 😞 feel free to decline! ((If rq is 2 weird maybe do a vulnerable moments with him))
Ty for reading ! (I dunno how to reqs I’m sorry💀)
୨୧⋆ ˚ — selfish
warnings!! angst, suna being a selfish asshole, open-ended 'cause it still ended in an unresolved argument, not proofread 😞
note! HI ANON!! this is actually my very first time taking such a request. tbh with you, i've never done that much angst and this is actually the heaviest angst i've done by far, but i hope this can satisfy your wants 😭🙏
FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!
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“where are you? i can’t find you in the stadium.” 
you don’t want to reply to his message. heck, you don’t even want to open the notification at all. 
it’s been three hours since the match ended and it’s been an hour since you left the stadium, and he just realized that you left just now? ridiculous. 
you stared blankly at the notification until he sent you another one just three minutes later.
“y/n where are you?” suna sent you another one. “why aren’t you reading my messages?”
you were literally about to space out from staring blankly at his messages when your phone suddenly vibrated. he’s calling you, snapping you back into reality. 
you sighed before declining his call.
“at home,” you replied to his message. “i went home early then i dozed off, sorry,” you added.
he immediately replied with, “ok ig i’ll go home now.”
you’re aware that his reply was dry, but like, that’s all? some ok ig is all he can reply? but at this point, you couldn’t even care less anymore. 
around 45 minutes later, you were lounging on the sofa when you suddenly heard the entrance to your and suna’s shared penthouse open. you already know it’s suna. he’s the only other one who knows the passcode to the penthouse after all. 
“why did you leave so early? did you even finish watching the whole match at all?” that’s the first thing he told you when he went to the lounging area. so is that really how he’ll greet you? it made you laugh dryly.
“not even a hello?”
“i asked you first.” he’s clearly pissed off. 
“why are you mad?” you stood up from the sofa, walking towards him. “i was there and i watched your whole match. i know you lost the match, but you don’t have to put your anger on me.” 
“so why did you leave after the match was over?”
“what do you mean? i literally stayed there for two more hours before i left.” it’s true. you stayed for two more hours and waited for him. and for the whole two hours, you wanted to go and still congratulate him for his performance, but you couldn’t. why? because he got swarmed by his fans, begging to take pictures with him and getting his autograph.
you tried squeezing yourself in. you loudly called for his name through the crowd, but all you saw was him taking a glance at you before returning his focus to taking pictures and signing autographs. 
“you literally looked at me when i called your name after the match, you just didn’t bother walking towards me.” 
“wait, yeah, i did see you earlier. sorry.” suna doesn’t sound sorry at all. “still, you could’ve waited for me.”
“rin, i tried waiting for you. i tried calling for your attention because i still wanted to congratulate you even if you lost, you just didn’t bother because you were too busy taking pictures and signing autographs.”
“me just only taking glances at you and not walking towards you as i was clearly,” he emphasized. “taking pictures and signing autographs is already an act of not bothering?” 
“so their attention matters more than mine?” 
“i did not say that, y/n. don’t make things complicated.” you can feel the tone of his voice getting sharper and sharper.
“then why are you making it sound like their attention matters more than mine? you don’t have to take pictures with everyone. you don’t have to sign every autograph they request. you always do this but you literally don’t have to do everything they want. they’re just your fans, they come and go.”
“wait, are you fucking jealous over the attention i gave them? when we literally live under the same roof?” suna laughed dryly, his words making your blood boil. 
“of course i’m jealous!” you snapped, shouting at him. “we live under the same roof but you’re out almost 24/7!”
“don’t you get it?! i’m a volleyball player, so what do you expect?!” suna snapped back. “are you even aware that you’re being selfish right now?”
“wait, selfish? me?” you scoffed. “can you hear yourself right now, suna?” you pointed at your ear. “so i’m the selfish one when all i did was sacrifice everything just so that i could choose you?” you pointed to his chest. “when i literally left my family, closest friends, and career on a different prefecture just so that i could live with you here in tokyo to support you on your own career? when i literally had to skip work multiple times just so that i could attend all your matches? when all i wanted in return was the unconditional love that you promised me when we were in high school?” 
the suna that you’re facing right now isn’t the suna that you knew back in high school. he changed. he changed after being a part of the volleyball national team. but despite the change, you stayed. 
choosing him over everything caused you some damage. you waited and are still waiting until those damages healed. you know it hurts, waiting for the damage to heal for so long, but you also think that if you manage to get it healed, you can consider it as good damage. so, if you will leave him midway through healing, then all the damage will be just damage. but now you know better than this. you need to stop choosing him, you need to choose you.
all the things that you’ve been wanting to tell him just spilled as if a dam burst broken. you can feel tears now streaming down your face. “so suna, let me ask you again, am i the one who’s being selfish?” 
that was the last thing you told him before picking up your purse and then walking towards the penthouse to leave. 
suna just stood on his spot, silent the whole time. realization immediately kicked in when he heard the entrance to the penthouse shut close. he couldn’t move even though he wanted to. he wanted to chase after you, kneel after you, and beg for your forgiveness but he couldn’t move. he knows he fucked up big time. he knows he’s been fucking up for years. 
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𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | repost, modification, and translation of my works on any platforms are strictly prohibited.
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wwilsonbarness · 10 months
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i messed up...
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pairings:  bucky barnes x pregnant!reader
summary: you go against what you and bucky agreed, how will he react?
warnings: angst, pregnant reader, asshole bucky, none more i think?
word count: 1219
a/n: Bucky's a major ass in this but i have part two started if anyone is interested :)
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
part 2
masterlist
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You didn’t mean to mess up this bad, you just wanted a normal day, a day where you could leave the tower alone without an Avenger there to protect you. 
You knew what you signed up for when you and Bucky became official. He had told you so many times that being with him put you at risk but you didn’t care, you loved him too much to be without him. He had insisted that since that day you would have someone there to protect you at all times, you knew it was in a loving way it was a lot to handle, and ever since you and Bucky discovered you were pregnant it had only gotten more intense. You knew it was for the better but it was suffocating you, which is why you went to the store alone this morning. It wasn’t far from the tower and you would be back within the hour, surely nothing could happen in that time?
On your walk home your phone started to buzz, and not just once but it kept buzzing until you opened the chat and the messages started loading in. They were from Sam, the first was a picture of you, from just 15 minutes earlier, you were reaching up to the top shelf in the store and your shirt had risen up, making your bump slightly more visible. How someone noticed that you have no idea. The rest of the text messages were fairly calm but the last one made you panic.
Sam
where are you? let me know you’re okay please Y/n are you safe?  He doesn’t know yet. 
Shit. Bucky was going to be furious at you, he had told you so many times not to go out alone because of this very reason. Now everyone was going to know that you and Bucky had a baby coming. You and Bucky had both agreed that you would keep your pregnancy between as few people as possible, for the baby’s safety and now you’ve compromised that. Only the other Avengers, your family and a couple of friends knew about it. 
Unintentionally you slowed your pace for the rest of your walk, sending Sam a quick text to let him know you were safe and on your way back.  You were scared to face Bucky but at least you could tell him yourself before he found out online or by Sam. 
It doesn’t take long even with your slow pace to get back, you hesitantly push the button for your floor, mentally preparing yourself for facing Bucky. He had been especially insistent on keeping your baby away from the public because of his long list of enemies and being a part of the Avengers meant that list was forever growing. 
When the lift dings and the doors open you pause for a second before stepping out, first you check yours and Bucky’s bedroom but it’s empty so you head for the common room. When you walk in Bucky’s there, as well as Sam, Tony, Natasha and Steve. At first glance things look normal, and no one notices you walking in until you speak. “Hi..”
That’s when Bucky turns around, his jaw was clenched together, brows furrowed, anger practically seeping out of him. He knew. You want to apologise but you can’t manage to get any words out. A few seconds pass before Nat’s voice breaks the silence. “Are you okay Y/n?” You nod towards her, fidgeting with your fingers trying to distract yourself from the shouting match you knew was about to begin. You’d seen Bucky angry before but never this much and never because of you. 
“Bucky, I’m so-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence before he interrupted you 
“Did you not listen to anything I said to you? Did you really just ignore everything? I told you this would happen but what? You just did it anyway?“ 
“Buc-“ He wouldn’t listen, his words were spilling out of him. He didn’t even know what he was really saying. He was just so scared and angry at himself for not protecting you and your baby. 
“You’ve seen what the people we deal with can do and you still acted like a complete idiot.” You could hear muffled sounds of Sam and Nat trying to stop him from going any further but all you could focus on was Bucky’s words.  
“No. How could you make such a careless mistake?” 
Your eyes were growing wetter with each word he said but you tried to keep yourself composed. You didn’t feel as if you had any right to be upset, you were the one who messed up. 
“I wasn’t trying to..” You attempt to interrupt him and defend yourself but at this point you knew that was pointless. 
“I mean seriously,” He pauses for a moment, contemplating his next words, “it’s like you don’t care about our baby at all.”
Oh. That one hurt. He had to know you cared right? Your baby was everything to you. Could he really think you didn’t care?
Tony had stayed quiet up until now. “Enough James!” He screeched from behind Bucky, “I won’t let you talk to Y/n like that, either calm down or leave my tower.” 
You knew he was going to be angry at you but you were not prepared for this much of it. Bucky stares at you for a few seconds before he walks out, dropping his head down to your stomach and scoffing as he does so. Now it wasn’t just anger you felt from him, it was disappointment too. 
You can’t bring yourself to move from the spot you’ve been standing in since you arrived, the only thing breaking you out of your trance was someone’s hand on your shoulder. You weren’t sure who until they spoke. “Y/n? Are you alright?” 
It was Sam, you manage to turn to him and stutter out, “I‘m sorry.” 
“It’s okay.” He brings his hand up to your head and pulls you gently towards him for a much needed hug. “He’s not angry with you, he’s just scared. It’s gonna be okay.” 
“I just wanted to do something for myself, I don’t want to have to rely on an Avenger everytime I want to go to the store.” 
“I know, he shouldn’t have gotten angry like that. I’m not making any excuses for him but he’s never felt love like he does for you. You and this baby are everything to him, he’s scared to lose you.” 
“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” Your voice is quiet, almost too quiet but Sam can just hear you.
“I know he will, he just needs some time to cool down.” You nod your head against Sam’s chest, part of you knew Bucky would forgive you but an even bigger part of you believed you had messed up too bad. 
You reach into your bag and take out the small white teddy you bought, when you read the words printed on its tiny outfit you start to cry harder. It read, “Best Dad Ever”, you just hoped Bucky would forgive you so you could give it to him. 
If you could go back to this morning and change your decision you would. You just want things back the way they were. 
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lemon-boy-stan · 8 months
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You flinch in an argument
Genshin men (Diluc, Kaeya, Tartaglia) and how they react when you flinch in an argument. TW: mentions of violence, reader has been treated badly in her past relationships.
DILUC
Diluc doesn’t get angry very often. At least, he does, but he never gets angry at you. He doesn’t know who has hurt you before, but he knows you tread lightly around him due to a past memory, a past feeling - maybe fear? And he often keeps this in mind, but today he’s just been so stressed and all his pent up anger just explodes.
How could you think he’d be the kind of man that cheats? How could you even imagine him in an affair? He’s tried his best to make sure that he’s the perfect husband. He wants to let you know he’s capable of love, of being a husband and a father. But today he’s tired, and when he sighs heavily and moves his hand towards his forehead, you squeak loudly and jump away from him.
Diluc’s heart shatters. He feels a sudden swerve of anger and protectiveness wash over him. Your normally happy and bright eyes are clouded with fear, and you look up at him, but the anger on his face is gone.
Diluc is a strong, stoic man, and you’ve only seen him cry three times, once when he was drunk. This time, his eyes fill with tears and you’re shocked. This is not the reaction you’re expecting from him - you were expecting a hand across your face, a bottle thrown at you. But instead, he flings his arms around you, sobbing loudly into your neck. You’re still so shocked that you cry too, softly into his hair (Diluc is fairly taller than you). “I’m sorry,” he sobs, nose running, “I didn’t mean to make you scared. I would never dream of hurting you, I love you so much.”
KAEYA
Kaeya is a yeller in arguments. While Diluc has many quips and thoughtfully curated hurtful comments, Kaeya screams. The rare times you fight, he is always shrill, and always uses hand gestures, which can be a bit of an issue at times.
“I can’t believe you’d think I’d ever be interested in her!” if he was a cartoon character, there would be steam blowing from his ears. His blue eyes have become incredibly dark. He throws his arms up in the air and you flinch away from him. Kaeya freezes.
He drops his hands, face softening. Kaeya cries more than his older brother, and the tears roll down his cheeks, but his eyes are filled with rage, a different kind of anger from earlier.
You run up to hug him and he growls into you, “his name. Now.” you shake your head into him. You already know what’s running through his brain, you can practically see the red he’s seeing. He can barely breathe as he holds you tight, the rage is ricocheting off his body. “Please,” he mumbles, “please tell me his name. I’ll fucking kill him.”
CHILDE
He’s a member of the Fatui, so Childe must often appear scary and heartless, but in private and with his friends, he’s funny, kind, and caring - except for when he loses his temper. Ajax rarely loses his temper over proper things, and when he loses his temper for silly things, it always ends with rough sex, but you’ve never seen him lose his temper like this. Tartaglia is the perfect boyfriend, almost as if not being perfect is one of his insecurities. He knows you’ve been hurt in your past. He doesn’t know what happened, or who hurt you or when, but he knows that that’s why you’re always so quiet around other men, even him sometimes. It was just today where he let his anger get the better of him.
“I said not to come!” he’s screaming the words, “I said they were dangerous but you NEVER KNOW HOW TO LISTEN! What would happen if I didn’t know any of the Harbingers? Didn’t you see the way they were looking at you?!” Childe throws his arms up in the air and you jump away from him, backing into the wall and his eyes flash dangerously. He knows immediately why you’ve flinched and suddenly his anger at you is gone, instead focusing on whichever man touched you.
“His name,” he’s breathing through his nose, “now. Tell me his name, now.” the name of your ex stumbles out of your mouth and he cries out in rage, punching a wall. Tears stream down his face, and his pretty, amber orange hair is messy. You’ve only seen Tartaglia cry when he’s had nightmares or when he’s frustrated, but never because of you. You suddenly feel guilty for burdening him, “I’m sorry,” your lip trembling, and he sniffles, wrapping his arms around you, “you have nothing to apologize for.” you’d thought the hug would last longer, but it didn’t. He pulls away and you blink up at him. “Where are you going?” and the danger returns to his face, “to kill your ex.”
GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST
NAVIGATION
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hyuckswoman · 2 months
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mark and you arguing pt1
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pt2
genre: angst (doesn’t have good ending but i can make a pt2)
summary: you don’t like how touchy one of your boyfriend’s friend is, when you try to tell him, he doesn’t listen
pairing: mark x y/n
“no mark you don’t understand and that’s fine, i never asked you to understand either way” you say putting your things down and closing your front door behind you 
earlier that night, you and mark were on a double date with his childhood friend and her situationship? you thought it was her boyfriend but seeing the dynamic up close you understood how wrong you were 
the date was going okay at first. since her situationship was so entertaining, it completed shifted your focus away from the fact that you had barely taked to your boyfriend ever since stepping foot inside of the restaurant, not only that but you had also failed to see how her hand was on mark’s forearm and didn’t look like it was going to move in any second. 
you’re not normally the jealous type but seeing how there’s been a few instances where she had stepped over the boundaries you put with your bf and when you told him about it he just shrugged claiming that “she’s an old friend, she’s bound to be…comfortable” you were apprehensive of the evening. 
and you were right to be! the whole evening was basically her flirting and eye fucking mark, cutting you off when you were speaking, barely paying any attention to her date i mean hell even YOU talked more to him than she did. 
the more the evening progressed the more you dread coming home, yea it meant she wouldn’t be here anymore but it also meant you having to be vocal about your feelings and a possible argument with mark because of course his friend could never be in the wrong 
“why are you being like this? each time we hang out with her you’re always mean and tense about it, i don’t get why you have a vendetta against her” you boyfriend says taking off his coat following you into the living room 
“it’s not like i don’t have a reason to have a vendetta against her mark, she was flirting with you all evening! and i don’t even understand why you’re picking a fight with me, i bit my tongue on purpose and didn’t tell you shit and wasn’t planning to just to avoid this so i’m having trouble understanding why we’re even having an argument right now” you say sitting on the sofa hoping he’ll let it go
but of course he doesn’t 
“oh so now i’m so scary and intimidating that you can’t communicate? and we’re having an argument because tonight, just like every night we’ve ever spend with her you were in a pissy mood. do you know how embarrassing it is to have to apologize for your behavior each time” mark says 
“no one asked you to apologize, i kinda think it’s crazy how you’ve never even taken the time to maybe wonder why i dislike her so much mark” you answer anger rising 
“i know why you’re like this, it’s because you’re jealous” your boyfriend answers
“i’m sorry? yea you’re gonna have to elaborate on this one” you say
“i don’t know maybe it’s because her and i get along or the fact that we were a thing for a short while maybe that makes you insecure or something” you boyfriend says ever so casually 
“what the fuck?? she doesn’t make me insecure i’m just tired of having to explain to you why it bothers me to see one of your friends eye fucking you while you let it happen. i can’t even have a man be in the same vicinity as me before you start to lose your shit mark. Like i really don’t care that you and her were a thing because you’re with me now so unless it’s an issue i need to worry about I don’t see why I’d be jealous? But if you’re gonna be mad at me for being in a ‘pissy’ mood i never want to hear you complain about any men apparently flirting with me ” you say getting up, if you see his face you might start to hit it at this point 
“I still don’t understand why you’re being so bitchy, if her and i were still dating, she would’ve never done this to me” mark says instantly regretting his words 
“So it is something i need to worry about then.. you know what? go date her or something i don’t care mark, maybe she’ll appreciate you acting like a dick” you say sighing. this argument honestly tired you, repeating the same things over and over again tired you but what could be done? 
you were starting to head upstairs to brush your teeth and head to bed when mark gripped your arm preventing you from leaving 
“let go mark” you ask tiredly 
“i’m sorry” he says apologizing 
“okay, now let go” you ask and he shakes his head no 
“please i’m tired i want to sleep let me go” you say as you forcefully remove your arm from his grip, if he wasn’t going to let you go, you’ll leave 
“we don’t go to sleep mad at each other” mark says still blocking your way 
“maybe sometimes we do, plus i’m not even mad at you now please move i want to brush my teeth and you’re blocking the path” you say 
“i’m sorry” mark says 
“i heard you the first time” you answer giving up on brushing your teeth settling to  find a place to sit in your shared house 
“talk to me, please” your boyfriend pleads 
“i have been talking to you mark! ever since the first hang out i told you how she would make backhanded comments about me, then told you how it made me uncomfortable how touchy she was with you, then told you i didn’t want to hang out with her anymore so you could go see her alone and i also told you how her eye fucking you and making me feel like i’m bothering you guys annoyed me. mark you just never listen, and since you don’t listen i sit back, bite my tongue and try my best to act nice but it’s not because she’s your friend that i’m going to let myself get walked over” you say as mark finally lets you in your bedroom where you just lay down to sleep 
“you’re right i’m sorry” mark says hugging your figure thankful that you still communicated despite his actions 
“no you’re not, you say this every time the proceed to do it all over again, anyway good night mark” you say turning so your back faces him just wanting to be done with the conversation because you were starting to feel bad for acting this way when you have every right to be upset. Mark on the other hand is biting his lip realizing that he seriously messed up and needs to make it right somehow. 
because he’d 100% rather never talk to that one friend than have you feel the way you’re feeling right now, at the end of the day, nobody compared to you and he now realized how little he’s been showing it to you 
867 notes · View notes
f1girliefics · 5 months
Text
Taking Back My Love
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Lando Norris x Reader
Warnings: mention of possible cheating, alcohol consumption
Summary: You wanted to relax, forget and get drunk, but of course, the universe had another plan.
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Slow dancing to an upbeat song.
Holding each other close as everyone around you seemed to have disappeared in the fog.
The club was loud.
And yet, you didn't hear anything. Possibly the tequila shots you had earlier were finally working. 
All you could see, hear and feel was him.
You weren't even sure if you were moving to the beat of the song.
You moved as he moved and placed a kiss on your neck. 
Then suddenly as he pulled back everything came back.
The noise, the music and the pain.
You pushed the stranger back.
"I don't feel good," you said, not caring if he heard or not. Then you rushed to grab your bag and left. Just as you exited the club, you locked eyes with Lando. He was alone, with his phone in his hand.
"Ah. I had a feeling you would be here." he had a white hat on.
Of course, you would. It is where you met him after all.
You heard the door behind you open and close.
"Why did you leave, Babe?" you didn't look at the guy, but Lando did. "We were having fun, no? Let's go back and dance." 
You watched Lando as his anger grew.
Good.
At least now he had some form of idea of how you felt.
How you still feel.
Betrayed. Hurt.
You love him for fucks sake!
And yet because of some PR move, McLaren had him go out on a "date" with a model... Even though people knew he was in a relationship already.
Thankfully the whole thing backfired.
Lando told you what he had to do, minimising everything saying it would be only a business dinner.
Then you saw the photos, much like everyone. Him smiling and laughing with the woman. The photos really made it look like a romantic date...
You called him, voicemail.
You left him about 15 voicemails, all yelling and crying about how he betrayed you.
Then, the public.
Since it was a known fact that he was dating you, most of the fans started to say that he was a cheater. They called him all kinds of names.
It got to a point where McLaren had to come out with a statement about Lando still being in a relationship with you, it was a business dinner he attended with the model.
No one believed it.
Especially since you broke up with him on the spot.
The photos of him with someone else, having a romantic dinner were too much.
And that is how you got to this club, to numb your pain and forget him.
The guy behind you grabbed your arm and you moved out of his reach.
"I told you I have to go."
"Don't care, I'll buy you another drink."
"I believe she said no." Lando spoke up beside you. 
"Actually," you said moving back inside. You moved to the bar, asking for a tequila shot. 
You knew you shouldn't have.
It will make you lose control.
And it did. 
Next thing you knew, you were outside again, crying as Lando was following you, trying to catch up as you walked... God knows where.
"Stop following me!" you turned and looked at him. You had enough. "Go back to that supermodel with long gorgeous legs and perfect hair and skin! You betrayed my trust, I don't want to see you. I just want to forget you."
"I'm so sorry. She was drunk and I pushed her away but she kept coming on me. I told her I have a girlfriend."
"HAD! You HAD a girlfriend. You don't have one now, so go and get your model." you turned but he moved quickly to stand in front of you.
"Please just, listen to me once."
"I already did. I sat there for an hour, in silence, listening to your explanation. Do you realize what you had done? You said it was a simple business dinner, then I saw the photos of you and her smiling at each other. Then when I freaked out you confessed what the PR team's plan was... I don't deserve this, not after three years, Lando."
"And I agree with you. I-I do. And I'm so fucking sorry. How can I get you back?"
"Leave me alone." you said as you walked past him.
You rushed home, closing the door behind you.
You needed a bath and some food.
You were still drunk, but the pain in your heart didn't stop.
No matter what you did.
---
The next morning you woke up with a headache, but you were proud of yourself.
Even drunk, you stood up for yourself and let Lando know what you think and feel.
It sure didn't ease your pain but it was something.
You ordered some breakfast and watched some TV.
Then a friend of yours sent you a text.
"Check Lando's insta."
"I have him blocked." was your reply, but then she sent another text with a screenshot.
You read 'Hello Everyone, I would like to clean up a big misunderstanding that has been happening for the last couple of weeks. 
It is true that I had a meeting and dinner with a famous model, it is true that at the time I was in a relationship.
I completely understand why everyone on the internet called me a cheater.
I'm here to apologise to all of my fans and to Y/N. She didn't deserve this and I do and continue to suffer from this. But the real victim here is Y/N. I am truly sorry for everything I have done to hurt you.
I hope all my fans can understand that I will take a step back from social media.
Thank you.'
The post was nothing you didn't expect. It was clearly not only his words in there but it did mean a lot for you that he publicly apologised.
"I think you should take him back." another text from your friend. "Both of you suffered enough because of this, I believe it is time to put it behind yourselves and move forward. But I would understand if you said no. It is your decision. I just believe I have never seen people more in love and fit to be together than the two of you."
"Thanks." you texted her back after a couple minutes.
And unblocked Lando's phone number.
You ignored the flood of texts that came and pressed call.
"Can you come over?" you asked as soon as he picked up. 
"Y-Yeah, I will be right there!" Lando answered with the hopes that you weren't just going to hand him the rest of the clothes that he had at your place.
You opened the door for him and sat him down on the couch, you sat next to him.
"I listened to you, now you listen to me." he nodded. "I read your post. And I understand what happened. I know it was all to make the fans of the model interested in F1 and become McLaren fans. I get it. It was a horrible plan. They chose you because Oscar isn't as outgoing. And knowing him and his girlfriend, he wouldn't have gone in the first place. I'm not saying that I'm ready to fully forgive you. But I do want you back." you could see in his eyes that his hopes were back. The shine came back in an instant.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so so much Y/N! I will do everything you ask of me."
"Then don't pull another stunt like this."
"I-I won't. I already spoke with everyone and they agreed, the faithful boyfriend is a lot better for PR than a... cheater... clearly." you smiled at him as he hugged you, he held you tight. "I am sorry. I promise I will never do anything like this again." he pulled back but you stayed close to him.
"I'm not saying you shouldn't go out with girls. I know you have friends... just..."
"I get it. If it's anything, I had a bad time the entire night I was there."
You smiled at him once more and even laughed a little.
"But I'm not taking this for granted, your forgiveness, I mean. I definitely understand that I fucked up and I have to prove my loyalty. I promise you, I will be better."
"Thank you, Lando." you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
500 notes · View notes
heavenlyvision · 6 months
Text
Just Friends
Word count: 13.7k
Pairing: Johnny Cage x F!Reader
A/N: Wowee, I am pretty proud of this one ngl! I hope you all enjoy it!!! This idea has been rotating in my brain for a couple weeks now, so I’m pretty stoked to have finished it <33
Summary: When your one-year anniversary raises red flags about your boyfriend you missed, Johnny helps you deal with the fall out in a delicious way, and then he ghosts you. When you find out why, you think his reason sucks but he makes it up to you… kind of.
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst (only little bit), virgin!Reader, age gap, reader is in her 20s, fingering, grinding, cum eating, spit swallowing (once), stalking (not by Johnny or reader), minor violence, name calling (not by Johnny or reader), no use of y/n
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This isn’t where you would ideally be spending your time, in general you don’t club often but especially not for special occasions, which you classify this as one. You’re meant to be celebrating your one-year anniversary with your boyfriend, he had promised you a romantic evening but instead he surprised you with clubbing. Which, naturally you had no idea was happening, so not only are you not dressed for clubbing but you also are not in the mood to be here.
He's gone off to the dance floor and you’re just sat here by the bar watching him dance and get drunk. It’s uncomfortable for you, you’re dressed up in a nicer dress than what this place warrants and it’s getting the attention of the men around you, attention you really don’t want.
Unfortunately, it looks like your boyfriend is enjoying the attention of the other girls around him, he’s just now engaged in a bump and grind with a girl you both don’t know. This is ridiculous, he knows you can see him right? You’re getting huffy, but when he leans down and whispers in her ear is when you get pissed.
Getting up, you stomp over to him and grab him to get his attention, when he looks at you, he’s none too pleased. Like you weren’t the one watching him flirt with another girl on your one-year anniversary. A whole year with this man and he can’t give you the courtesy of paying you attention and not flirting with other girls. Ridiculous.
Your expression is twisted in anger, “What the hell are you doing?”
“What’s your problem?” He asks, his own expression irritated.
Your eyes become large, shaking your head at him, “My problem is you; you’re flirting with other girls right in front of me! On our anniversary!”
He blows you off and deflects the blame back on you, “Like you care, you have that weird relationship with that old actor dude!”
Of course, he brings up Johnny right now, you roll your eyes at him, “Johnny is just a friend! You know that.”
And he does, you’ve known Johnny for years, or at least your family has, you got closer to him a few years ago when you moved to California. He’s been really kind to you and was the only friend you had here for a while, even though he’s all famous and busy.
He gets in your face and yells at you, “Yeah right, you’re probably fucking him! You won’t fuck me but you’ll fuck him! Is that it?! GOD you are such a whore!” You can smell the alcohol on his breath with how close he is.
This is the first time he’s explicitly said what he’s been implying for months, he’s been so weird about this for a long time, you haven’t had sex with him, or anyone for that matter. And it upsets you when he implies otherwise. His blunt accusation has your eyes welling up with tears.
His shoulders drop and his eyes roll, groaning as he says, “Oh, don’t start that! You are such a gaslighter!”
“We are over, don’t call me, don’t come to my apartment, we are broken up,” you spit it out with as much venom as you can muster.
Turning from him, you get out of there as quickly as possible, hearing him continue to berate you faintly as you leave. The tears from earlier start to fall down your cheeks as you hail a cab, tonight is not what you wanted it to be at all.
This has been an awful experience, and if you were honest with yourself, you’d recognise your relationship had red flags the whole time. You had mostly overlooked it because you wanted it to work so badly but he was mean, pushy, didn’t respect you or your boundaries, he was even prone to violent outbursts, he never hit you but you have a sizable hole in your bedroom wall from the one time he got especially annoyed at you.
These are all things you had kept from Johnny and even then, Johnny had expressed concerns about your now ex-boyfriend, he never overstepped but he very gently told you that he thought he was a freak.
You won’t deny that you like Johnny, you’re attracted to him but it’s not like it’s something you could actively pursue or have even thought about pursuing. He’s older than you and probably wouldn’t look at you the same way you look at him. And even if he did, you can’t think of anything worse than a cheater, you would never want to be cheated on, so you would never cheat on someone. Even if they suck.
Sitting in the cab, you’re forced to reflect on all of this. You wish you’d had a few drinks; a buzz would probably make it easier to sleep tonight. The shock of it all has you most upset because when you search deep down you aren’t even sad about losing him, you’re sad about all the time you wasted on him. All the time you spent trying to make it work with a man who, frankly, didn’t and doesn’t deserve you.  
When you get back home, you’re immediately showering the club off of your skin and crawling into bed. What you want most right now is for this awful night to be over, so you curl up in a little ball and hug your pillow to your chest for comfort.
✰ ✰ ✰
A heavy-handed banging at your door frightens you awake; you shoot up in your spot. It’s your ex banging on your door and yelling at you, grabbing your phone you quickly look at the time. It’s currently nine in the morning, he cannot be sober yet.
You walk through your apartment and drop your phone on your kitchen counter before tentatively walking towards the door. His loud banging stops and he knocks again gently, calling your name softly. You don’t want to open the door but you’re worried about your neighbours, one thing about him is that he is as stubborn as a mule.
Opening the door only a bit, you ask him, “What do you want?”
“Fucking finally, let me in,” his voice is angry and he’s pushing the door open more.
You try to keep him back, “You can’t come in.”
He keeps pushing at the door, eventually swinging it open the whole way, “I can do what I want,” his voice raises.
He goes to move inside your apartment and you push him back, his eyes glower at you, he’s scaring you.
“We are broken up, and I don’t want you in my house,” you say, standing your ground.
“We are not broken up; I didn’t agree to that!” he argues, voice getting louder in his anger.
His demeanour is scaring you, the last time he looked like this was when he punched that hole in your wall.
But you are not caving on this, “That isn’t how it works, we are over!”
He puts his hands on you and his grip digs into your skin, hurting you, but you move automatically and punch him square in the nose. His head flies back, he’s groaning out in pain and grabbing his nose. You take advantage of his balance being thrown off and push him out of the threshold of your apartment, he stumbles back and you’re slamming the door shut, locking it again.
“What the fuck! You stupid bitch! Let ME IN!!” His banging gets more forceful, it sounds like he might be kicking the door too.
You’re shaking at what just happened, you’ve never had to punch someone before. Sadly, it didn’t do enough damage to have him leaving, he’s still there and you have a feeling he isn’t going away.
There’s a sudden ringing from behind you, it makes you jump on the spot. Your heart racing as you realise it’s just your phone from the kitchen, you walk over to it, behind you the banging has slowed a bit but you can tell he’s still out there.
Checking your phone screen, you see it’s Johnny is calling, just your luck. If you don’t pick up now, he’ll just keep calling you. He knows you were meant to go on your date last night and you didn’t message him when you got home. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re safe but you don’t really want him hearing what’s happening, so you walk into the hallway and answer. Thankful for the moment of quiet outside your door.
“Hello?” You ask.
“Good morning, doll,” he sounds chipper.
“…Good morning,” your voice is wavering despite your efforts to sound normal.
You can practically feel his frown through the phone, “Are you okay?”
“Yup,” you’re trying to keep your answers short.
The banging on your door picks up again, he’s getting louder and yelling, because of course he is.
“What is that?” Johnny questions.
“…Nothing?”
He pauses, you imagine listening to the background noises, “It sounds like someone’s trying to break in.”
“No, it doesn’t,” you deny.
The banging continues at your door, your exes voice yelling, “Let me the fuck in!! God you’re such a fucking bit–”
“–I’m coming over.” He states, hanging up hastily, leaving no room for arguments.
Great, now you have to face the embarrassment of telling Johnny how awful your ex is and is apparently unwilling to let go of you even though he was flirting with and grinding into another girl right in front of you. You’d rather deal with the cops. Sighing, you grab your bat by the front door and crouch next to it, waiting for Johnny to get here. At least your ex will go away when he gets here.
It doesn’t take Johnny long to arrive at all, which is suspicious, he probably sped. You only know he’s here because you can hear the way your ex gets angry at him.
“Cage, Of course she called you,” he says to Johnny, disdain clear in his voice.
It’s the last thing you hear clearly, whatever Johnny says to him is low but apparently threatening enough to have your ex leaving, not before he yells at you one last time though.
“THIS ISNT OVER!” He yells out for you to hear.
“Yes it is, get the fuck outta here,” you hear Johnny clearer this time, he’d raised his voice at him slightly.
Johnny doesn’t knock, instead using the key you gave him to unlock your door. When he walks inside, he looks around quickly for you, not seeing you until he turns around to lock the door. His eyes widen at your small, crouched form in the corner by the front door, holding a bat with a sock on it.
“Jesus, sugar, what are you doing there?” His hand lands on his chest in mild shock.
“In case he got the door down,” you murmur at him.
He locks the door properly before giving you his hand, helping you up.
His brow raises, “What’s the sock for?”
“In case he tried grabbing it, he’d pull the sock off and I’d still have a bat,” you move the sock up and down the bat, demonstrating the slide.
He reaches out and you hand the bat to him, “Sit over there.” He points at your breakfast barstools.
You do as he says and shuffle over to the stool, sitting down on it. He puts the bat in your umbrella stand by the front door. Walking back over to you, he stands between your legs and holds either side of your face, checking you over.
“You okay?” He asks very softly; concern clear on his face.
You nod at him, “Yeah, Mm okay.”
His eyes are still looking you over, “I saw his nose was bleeding, you hit him?”
You nod again and he smiles at you, “Nice, you square your shoulders?”
“I think so,” you’re not sure, it happened pretty quick, the reaction more of a survival thing than a planned attack.
He hums and looks to your upper arms, “He grabbed you?” His hands gently run down your arms.
“Yeah, then I hit him,” you tell him, looking at your arms where he was looking. The skin where your ex had grabbed is irritated, it might bruise.
Johnny’s face is pulled into a scowl, “I should’ve hit him too, fucken dick.”
You shake your head at him, “I just wanted him gone.”
“I never liked him,” he continues.
“I know.”
“If he shows up again, I am hitting him,” his face still scowling.
You shake your head at him again, “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?” He looks into your eyes again; his hands leave you.
“Johnny, you’re not just some guy, you’re famous, if it got out that you hit someone it’d be a whole thing. It could ruin your reputation.”
He rolls his eyes at your concern, “Don’t really care about all that, doll.”
Your expression is doubtful, “Yes you do.”
“It’d be worth it, that guy sucks,” he maintains.
“Johnny?”
He hums at you in response.
“Can you… stay for a bit?” You ask softly, cringing at how pathetic you sound.
“Of course, you aren’t getting rid of me that quickly,” his smile is soft and you give him your own in return.
Getting up off the stool, you walk around into the kitchen, grabbing two mugs out for some coffee.
“You can go sit on the couch while I make some coffee,” you tell him with your back facing him.
He hums a little mindlessly before wandering over to your living room and getting comfortable.
After the coffee is made, you carefully walk to him, you’re watching the mugs and your feet as you walk. Carrying full cups has always stressed you out, you always manage to spill and you’d really rather not have to clean up a mess right now.
Thankfully, you successfully make it to Johnny without spilling anything, “Here you go,” you smile and hand him his mug.
“Thanks, sugar,” he takes it from you, sips at it and places it on the coffee table in front of him.
You sit beside him and silently sip at your coffee, enjoying the warmth of it, the flavour. You think a good cup of coffee could fix just about anything for you.
Johnny watches you sip at your mug, “What exactly happened, doll and why didn’t you call me?”
Yeah, you were expecting him to ask sooner or later, you were just hoping it’d be later.
Sighing, you place your mug next to his, “I didn’t call you because it’s embarrassing, you were right about him and I wanted to handle it on my own, I don’t need everything fixed for me.” You don’t look at him as you speak.
“I know that, you’re an adult but this was an angry, grown man, trying to beat down your door. And sometimes you might not need my help but you can always have me next to you, if it makes it easier.” His words are spoken soothingly, he’s always so gentle with you.
You can’t lie, you did have a crush on him for a long time, but then you met your ex and you didn’t let those feelings cloud your mind, you pushed them away. But just like how you push them away, Johnny’s actions and words push them back. He’s a difficult man to dislike.
“Thank you,” you mumble.
He asks again, “What exactly happened, it was supposed to be your anniversary wasn’t it?”
“He ‘surprised’ me by taking me out clubbing, which was already bad but I was uncomfortable and left at the bar alone while he danced and flirted with other girls.” You recount.
“What the fuck?” His voice is filled with displeasure.
“Mhm and then he was whispering to this one girl and I got annoyed, so I went over to confront him but he brought up y– … he said some mean things to me and about me… he – he made me cry and I broke up with him on the spot.” You leave out what he brought up about Johnny, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
“How’d you get home?” He asks.
“Took a cab.” You state simply.
“And he just let you? Let you leave and get in a cab, crying, by yourself, in the middle of the night?” He clarifies.
You nod your head at him.
Groaning as he says, “I really should’ve hit him.” He pauses, “Why didn’t you call me?”
You look back to him again, “It was late and I didn’t want to bother you, or explain what happened, I just wanted to get home and get into bed.”
“You never bother me, sugar,” his eyes are compassionate as he looks at you.
Looking at him is intense for you, like if you look at him for too long, you’ll get hypnotised by him. So, you look away, back to your mug on the table.
He moves closer to you and puts a hand on your cheek, pulling your face to look at him, “If anything happens to upset you, and I mean anything, call me, okay?” He stresses on the anything, making sure you understand.
You avert his gaze, “I will call you, if something bad happens.”
He moves his face so he can catch your eyes with his, making you look at him again, “Say again.”
“I will call you, next time.” You reconfirm.
“Very good,” his praise does things to you that you wish it didn’t.
He still holds your face, looking at you, his thumb strokes your cheekbone softly. As his hand slips away from your face, his thumb pulls your lip down with it, before he pulls his hand away completely. His eyes locked onto your lips, gaze seemingly far away.
“Johnny?”
He hums, coming back to himself and looking you in the eyes, “Your pjs are very cute.” He changes the topic.
You grow bashful, you’re wearing a matching set, they’re frilly and have bows, and you like them because not only are they really cute, they’re also comfy. Johnny mentioning them throws you off, you completely forgot you were wearing pyjamas.
His smile is cheeky as he watches you grow shy, “What’s wrong?” He asks, taunting.
“You know what you did,” you pout.
He enjoys flirting with you because of how nervous it makes you. He finds it endearing but you find it annoying, which is another reason as to why he keeps doing it.
He hums happily, pleased with himself, “Cute.” It’s all he says in response.
You scowl at him.
He pinches your cheek, pulling at it.
You slap his hand away, “Stop it, that hurts.”
He smiles innocently at you; he goes to say something but his phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks at it, and then he rolls his eyes, he doesn’t pick it up though.
“Aren’t you gonna answer?” You ask.
“Nah, gonna let it ring out, I do have to go though, I’m late,” his reply nonchalant.
Expression concerned you say, “Johnny! Leave if you’re late, you didn’t need to be wasting time here.”
“I didn’t waste my time, you’re important.” His face firm as he speaks.
You huff at him, “Get out, right now.” Your tone is urgent.
“You’re pretty when you’re bossy,” he teases.
Eyes widening at him, “Johnny!” You exasperate.
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he placates.
You walk him over to the door. Both of you standing there, you’re waiting for him to open it and leave but he turns around to look at you and pulls you in for a hug. You return it, appreciating the familiarity of him, you nuzzle your face into the fabric of his shirt and he holds you firmly.
His mouth rests against the crown of your head and speaks into your hair, “If he comes back, call me, okay?”
“Okay,” you mumble into his chest.
He pulls you away by your shoulders and then he leans down to kiss your cheek affectionately. The action makes your skin warm; he doesn’t pull away though, lips skating across your face and ghosting your lips, the minimal contact makes you gasp and your heart skip a beat.
He pulls away suddenly, “I’ll talk to you later.” He says hurriedly, opening your door.
“Have a good day,” you manage to say, almost normally.
He hums a noise of agreeance and then he’s gone.
After he leaves, you lock the door, and then your fingers skate over your lips, thinking about how he almost kissed you. The thought makes your heartbeat faster, he’s never showed interest in you before, at least, you don’t think he has.
Why did he do that? Did it mean anything? Was it an accident? You have so many questions that will undoubtably linger in the back of your head for the whole day, if not life.
✰ ✰ ✰
The rest of your day is spent cleaning up your messes made during the week, tomorrow you have a shift at work so today is really the only day you have to be able to pick up after yourself properly. It feels so incredibly mundane compared to what you went through last night and this morning. The fear of you ex coming back loiters in the back of your head the whole time you’re shuffling around your apartment.
It's earlier in the evening when you finally get to sit down, having completed your list of chores, along with showering and eating dinner. You feel quite proud of yourself for doing so much, you didn’t go grocery shopping like you had planned but you think for now, what you have done is more than enough. Leaving your apartment right now is a scary thought, he could be waiting for you outside the building, or around the street corner. You’re overthinking it but it is also very possible, he was terrifying this morning. It shocks you thinking about how he was in your life for so long and you hadn’t noticed anything bad enough to break up with him sooner.
A knock on your door brings you back from your thoughts, you’re apprehensive about answering the door, you aren’t expecting anyone. The person knocks again and your stomach drops, it’s him.
“Go away,” you call out.
“Just let me in, Jesus – talk to me,” your ex is irritable.
You get up and move closer to the door before saying, “You lost your right to talk to me last night.”
“You’re being such a bitch,” he says.
“I’ll call Johnny,” you try threatening.
“Oooo, I’m so scared of some old guy,” he feigns fear, but you know better, he is scared of Johnny.
You walk into the lounge room and pick up your phone, calling him.
His phone only rings a couple times before he picks up, “Hey, doll. You okay?”
From the door you can hear your ex call out to you, “Are you actually calling him?”
Johnny hears him too, “Is he back already?”
“Yeah… Sorry,” you feel bad calling him again so soon.
“Don’t apologise, I told you to call if he came back, you did good by calling me,” he says, his praise making you feel some type of way.
“I’ll be there soon, don’t talk to him,” he directs.
“I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before hanging up.
You grab your bat and hang out in the kitchen, hiding below the counters and watching the front door. Your ex doesn’t speak again, he doesn’t even knock and you briefly wonder if he left.
The wait doesn’t take long, and you know it’s Johnny when you hear the key turn in the lock. He enters the apartment and you pop up from behind the kitchen counters, still holding your bat. He shakes his head at you, amused at the sight of you appearing from nowhere.
Turning around he makes sure to lock the door and walks to you in the kitchen, “You okay, sugar?”
“You’re always asking me that,” you comment.
“I always want you to be okay,” he retorts.
You smile at him, “I’m okay.”
“Good,” he nods his head to the door, “He wasn’t out there.”
“I thought so, I think he heard me on the phone to you.” Your ex must’ve been too scared to face Johnny again, whatever threat he gave working, for now.
“Pussy,” Johnny insults him, it has you laughing lightly. “He really doesn’t like me, do you know why, doll? He ever tell you?” He’s curious.
You hum and look away from him, “No idea.”
“You’re lying.”
“How insulting, I have never lied to you,” you’re looking back at him, trying your best to look innocent.
Both his brows raise at you, “Not from lack of trying.”
You squint your eyes at him, “I am a good girl, I don’t lie, smoke, drink, party… so on and so forth,” you’re being facetious.
“Yes, you are a very good girl, so tell me the truth, mmm?” He practically purrs at you, with the way he spoke to you and how he’s looking at you right now, you’d tell him anything he wanted to know.
“Okay, so maybe I do know why he dislikes you,” you cave but can you be blamed?
He raises a single brow at you, encouraging you to continue.
Fiddling with your hands, you’re hesitant to tell him, “Mmm, so maybe he thinks that we’ve been… hooking up.”
“What?” His eyes are wide.
“He accused me of sleeping with you… which I assured him was not the case and that we’re just friends… but he didn’t believe me, and maybe he called me a whore for sleeping with you and not him…” you can’t look him in the eyes right now.
“I don’t even know where to start,” his expression is confused. “I want to injure him… badly, for calling you a whore,” he starts, his eyes burning.
“I just want him to leave me alone,” you murmur.
“If I break his legs he’ll have to leave you alone for three… to six months, depending on where I break him,” he remarks.
You shake your head at him, sighing.
He continues, “He’s a dumbass for accusing you of sleeping with me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Are you done?” You ask.
“I have one more question, and since you’re such a good girl, you’re going to answer it without tip toeing around it,” his tone only a little bit teasing.
You look sceptical, trying to save face you say, “Maybe.”
“Why would he think you’re sleeping with me and not him,” he asks.
You avert his gaze quickly, “Well… you see, that’s a bit more complicated.”
“How?” He’s direct.
“So…” You trail off.
“No, don’t do that, don’t skirt around your answer… and look at me,” his tone absolute.
You look back to him, your eyes worried, “I’ve not slept with him… or anyone for that matter… as for why he thinks I’m sleeping with you, probably insecurity,” you shrug your shoulders at him.
Johnny looks surprised by your confession, whatever he was expecting you to say, it wasn’t that.
“You’re a virgin?” He clarifies.
You nod your head at him, “Yes…”
“Well shit, sugar, I didn’t mean to make you tell me something that private.” He feels bad.
“It’s not private, I’m not ashamed or anything, I just haven’t wanted to sleep with the men I’ve dated.” Which is true, you’ve been attracted to them, you just haven’t desired them enough to let them have you completely.
“I just feel like whoever I do sleep with, I should crave their touch, and I haven’t… felt that way about the men I’ve dated,” you’ve only wanted one person that way and he’s standing in front of you. Much to your dismay.
“So, your idiot little ex, has somehow got it in his head that you want me?” He asks, big smile on his face.
Frowning, you say, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”
“Sorry doll, trying not to be but it’s a bit of an ego boost,” he chuckles.
“Like you need one,” you quip. Undeniably though, his confidence is something that makes you feel hot and bothered.
He smiles at you devilishly, going to say something before there’s a knock on your door.
Johnny groans, “Does he not give up or what?”
Another, harsher knock.
“That’s it, I’m kicking his ass,” he starts walking to the front door.
You jog to get in front of him, “No, Johnny, you can’t.”
“I’m fairly certain I can,” he huffs but he stops walking.
You give him a pointed look, “your career?”
“Didn’t I tell you earlier today that I don’t care?”
“I care,” you give him your softest eyes, begging with him not to resort to violence.
He groans in annoyance at how well it works on him, “Arghh, fine.”
“Thank–”
“–But, you should moan so he thinks we’re fucking,” he says, smiling like he’s come up with some master plan.
It’s embarrassing to admit to him but, “I don’t… know what I’d sound like.”
“Never even touched yourself, doll?” His question makes your face feel hot. His bluntness a lot for you, it makes you feel fuzzy.
“I have… I just never really made any noises,” you answer him hesitantly.
Looking at Johnny, he has a very serious look on his face, eyes dark. You only see it for a second before he’s smiling sweetly at you, “Bet you make the cutest sounds,” he teases.
He stalks towards you and you walk backwards, you end up with your back against the wall by the door. Johnny has caged you in against it, one of his hands resting on the wall beside your head.
His voice is low, “Wanna find out?”
You look up at him, “Find out what?”
More loud knocking comes out from beside you, your ex still there, still refusing to leave, “I am not going anywhere!” He calls out.
You turn your head to look at the door, but Johnny’s hand pulls your face back to his, “Keep your eyes on me and answer my question, sugar.”
“What was your question?” You don’t remember.
His fingers play with the strap of your pyjama shirt, “Wanna find out how you sound?”
“What?”
He tuts, “Simple yes or no, sweetness.”
The skin of his fingers brushing against your shoulder has a shudder threatening to run down your spine, he’s arousing you and you don’t feel sure in a lot of things but you feel pretty damn sure in yourself as you say.
“Yes.”
He grins, pleased with your answer, “Can’t hold back, gotta let yourself make noise, okay?”
Nodding your head, you agree.
“Perfect.”
His hand that was playing with your shirt slips down to your hip, holding you there before asking, “Are you wet?”
Your thighs involuntarily clench at his question, “Yeah.”
“What from,” he presses you for more answers.
His hand slips under your sleep shorts but not into your panties, his two middle fingers massage your pussy over your underwear, he can feel the wet patch on the front of them that had formed. Your mind drifts, losing yourself in his light touch.
“Gotta answer, sugar.” He reminds you.
You bring your focus back to his words, “From you…”
“What about me?” His pointer and ring fingers spread your folds through your panties, wet noises resulting from the action, “Fffuck, listen to how wet you are.”
You want to shrink in on yourself, his brazen words embarrassingly hot. His middle finger pets at your clit gently, the stimulation makes you gasp and one of your hands grabs at the wrist of the hand he has on the wall beside your head, the other resting flat against the wall.
“C’mon doll, pay attention,” he chastises.
“The way you – ngh – talk to me,” you confess maybe a little too easily.
“What specifically?” He’s too curious for someone touching you in a way that makes it difficult for coherent thought.
His middle finger is still gently grazing your clit, never straying, the stimulation making you so wet. Your panties no doubt ruined under his ministrations.
“Your voice, your praise, nicknames – hah, jus like the way you talk to me,” you feel breathless.
“Mmm, like being praised? Told what to do?” He asks in a mocking manner.
You’re lacking any critical thinking skills right now though, because you normally wouldn’t feed his ego so much, “By you, yes.”
“Fuck sugar,” he curses, your honesty getting to him.
His finger still stroking you over your underwear, your hips twitching in response to it. He hums at you, enjoying how much you’re squirming below him.
“Johnny,” you call to him, his name coming out whiny.
His response is far away, “Mmm?” he doesn’t look up to you, instead he pulls your shorts all the way down, wanting to watch the way he plays with your clit over your panties.
He adds more pressure to the finger stroking you, the feeling making you gasp, an almost moan slipping from you. Without realising, you hold it back and it comes out strangled.
“Not supposed to hold back, doll.” He reminds you quickly.
But you’re still conscious of your ex lingering in your hallway, something that Johnny is also aware of, which is why he wants you to be louder. He decides to pulls your panties down, removing his fingers from your pussy to do so.
The loss of contact has a whimper exiting you and Johnny chuckles at the sound.
“Needy aren’t ya?” He hums at you, amused.
You huff at him, not really appreciating the teasing.
His fingers move back to your pussy, sliding through your very wet cunt, spreading your slick around, his chest rumbling with a growl at how wet you are. Your thighs are wet and your whole lower half is slippery. The teasing he’s put you through too much, you’re beyond horny and you really just need him to touch you.
You look up at him, eyes big and wet, pleading with him to touch you properly without asking aloud.
The hand by your head moves to cup the side of your face, his smile is large as he looks at you. Enjoying the way you’re falling apart in the palm of his hand. He shows you pity though, and his finger slips to your pussy hole, gently pushing into you. Your cunt spasms lightly around it and he sighs a groan at the feeling.   
“Damn sugar, you’re… fucken soaked,” he comments.
You don’t reply to him, you can’t, too lost in the feeling of his large finger carefully pushing into you. The hand he has on your face still holding you, making you look at him. His thumb pulls your bottom lip down, his eyes mesmerised by your expression. You have a soft and needy look on your face, eyelids low, your breaths whiny. He’s enamoured by you, getting lost for a moment.
But he remembers himself and removes his hand from your face, instead holding your hip, your back arching off the wall slightly. He pushes his finger in the rest of the way, stroking against your walls, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit.
Your breaths turn into whimpers and as he pulls his finger in and out, you moan in response, the feeling overwhelming. Your hips are writhing in his grip, and your head is thrown back on the wall, moans growing louder.
He holds your hips steady, gaze flicking between the way your cunt is sucking his finger in and the fucked-out expression you’re wearing on your face. Your chest rising and falling quickly with your breaths.
For the first time in a while, he’s lost for words, he doesn’t even want to say anything. Just wants to push you over the edge, have you moaning and writhing against the wall for him. He’s painfully hard and ignoring it, but his dick twitches every time your cunt tightens or moans get louder.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Your ex pounds on the door, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
You had forgotten about him, too lost in your own pleasure. You squeak at his yelling and bite your lip.
“Don’t you fucken dare, need you to keep making those noises, sugar,” Johnny’s thumb tugs your lip free of your teeth.
The pounding beside your head gets louder, your ex yelling belligerently at the two of you, cursing Johnny out.
“She has the tightest little cunt!” Johnny calls out to your ex, just to piss him off further.
“Johnny,” you try admonishing him but his name borders on a whimper. The feeling of his finger moving in and out of you affecting you. Your moans are barely contained.
Your ex smacks the door harshly once before yelling at the two of you, “I FUCKING KNEW IT!”
He murmurs curses, calling you names and yelling about how he was right the whole time, before you hear his stomping feet walk away. Seemingly leaving.
Briefly you wonder if Johnny will stop touching you now that your ex has left but if anything, his pace increases, his finger fucking into you quickly, thumb circling your clit firmly. Your moans spill from you, breaking off into whimpers. Johnny has a feral look on his face as he watches his finger fuck into you.
The wet sounds of your pussy getting louder with his increase in speed. His hand on your hip again, keeping you still. His forehead leans forward and rests against yours, you can’t help but watch his lips, wanting him to kiss you.
He’s busy watching your cunt, “Fuck, sugar, really do have the tightest pussy.” You shudder at his words and he continues talking, “Fucken, messy too.”
Your hands claw at the wall behind you, trying to brace yourself against something sturdy.
“Can I add another?” He asks, wanting to stuff you full of his fingers.
“Please,” it’s a desperate sound that escapes you.
His middle finger pulls out to add his ring finger alongside it, both pressing into you gently, not getting far with how tight you are. The width of them stretching you open, burning slightly. His thumb keeps rubbing at your clit, trying to ease the stretch.
“Relax, doll,” he directs.
Taking a deep breath in, you relax slightly and Johnny takes advantage of it, slipping his fingers into you completely.
A keening whine pulls from you at being full of his large fingers.
“Thas it, such a good girl for me,” he groans out at you.
Your pussy clenches down on his fingers at his praise and a soft moan escapes from him, his composure slipping for a moment. If you had your wits about you, you’d notice how his own eyes look a little fucked out, that he’s worked himself up so much just from finger fucking you.
His hand on your hip grips you tighter, grounding himself. Both his fingers fucking into you in earnest, determined to have you cumming on them. His pace picking up to what it was previously, your walls clinging to him desperately. His own breathing is coming quick.
You’re teetering on the edge of something beautiful, “Feels like too much,” you whine at him.
“It’s meant to feel like that,” he coos at you, pity in his voice.
His fingers are persistent and so big and your cunt is fluttering around him with how close you are. Your eyes close, eyebrows knitting together against the pleasure. You feel something brush against your lips, so softly, that you think you imagine it.
Johnny removes his hand on your hip, grabbing your face again. Thumb coming up to your mouth and pushing inside it, you take it, wrapping your lips around it and sucking. He groans at the sight and feel of your warm, wet mouth. He pushes his thumb down onto your tongue, you’re salivating against it, drooling slightly.
The pleasure he’s giving you is so much, from never being touched by someone like this to being touched by someone whose touch feels like he’s attempting to pull you apart from the very depths of your being, is an insane jump. His presence alone crushes you; this is a completely new experience.
Your cunt pulses around his fingers, your moans muffled around his thumb. Johnny’s eyes drop from your face and look down between you both, watching your pussy, again. Infatuated with how you’re taking his fingers.
“C’mon doll, can feel you, you’re so fucken close,” his voice is strained as he talks.
But his voice is devastating to you, the gruffness of it sends you over the edge, your hands paw at his chest, needing something to hold onto. His thumb removes itself from your mouth, grabbing one of your hands instead and interlocking fingers with you.
Your hips grind down into his hand, riding out your high, moans tumbling from your lips as you throw your head back, his name mixed in with your moans. Distantly, you can hear Johnny moan at your orgasm, delighted by the state of you. Your breathing is harsh, chest moving quickly, you feel far away from your body. Hearing poor with how the blood is rushing through your head.
Johnny pulls his fingers from you carefully, you’re watching him through dazed eyes, slumped against the wall. His own eyes looking at his fingers and the way they’re soaked in your slick and cum. He shocks you when he licks them clean before putting them in his mouth, sucking you off them. He hums around his own fingers at the taste of you.
The display is obscene and has a small whimper being pulled from your chest. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, keeping eye contact with you. His heated look making you squirm a bit.
He shoots you a charming smile, “I was right, you do make cute sounds.”
You cover your face with your hands, wanting to escape his penetrating gaze.
Johnny locates your shorts and helps put them back on you, he kisses the top of your head, “I got carried away, doll. I’m sorry.”
Pulling your hands away, you look at him. He’s wearing a troubled expression, disappointed in himself, seemingly, out of nowhere.
“It’s okay.” You assure him.
He shakes his head, “No it’s not, I should’ve known better, I’m older than you. Shouldn’t have done this.”
You’re getting a bit annoyed, you’re an adult and you told him yes when he asked, “Johnny, I agreed.” You try reminding him.
“Doesn’t matter, should’ve controlled myself.” He’s getting hung up on his morals, frustrated in his actions tonight.
“I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it,” you push.
He looks at you dubiously, something telling you that his internal struggle is deeper than what he’s sharing with you.
“I should go, doll. I am so sorry.” He apologises again, but there isn’t anything he needs to apologise for.
He doesn’t touch you as he leaves, he looks like he wants to, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rushes out the door, not letting you argue with him any further. You hear him lock the door with his key as he leaves.
You’re left leaning against the wall, shell shocked as to what the hell just happened. He gave you your first and best orgasm and then left suddenly. Acting like he’s committed some kind of crime.
Calling him doesn’t work, he won’t pick up and he hasn’t replied to any of your texts. You don’t think he realises that he hadn’t fucked up before but he certainly has now, because what the fuck???
✰ ✰ ✰
By the next morning, Johnny still hasn’t replied and you have to go to work. You’re extra cautious as you leave your apartment, anxious about your ex possibly approaching you. Luckily he isn’t anywhere to be seen and you make it to work with no issues. Though, you did feel like somebody was watching you for a bit, you chalk it up to your nerves. The past few days not really doing great things for your psyche.
Your shift is a long one, gruelling. The whole day you’re thinking about your ex harassing you all day yesterday and when you finally think about something else, it’s about how Johnny is ghosting you.
On your break you try messaging him again, telling him it’s fine and if he regrets it that much to just forget about it. You aren’t going to be clingy and make him marry you or something now, if you knew how this would end, you wouldn’t have said yes. You don’t regret what happened but you will if you lose him as a friend over it. You want to convey that to him but you aren’t the best at communicating your feelings, things come out wrong and weird in your desperation to explain your thoughts.
So, you settle for sending him a text that boils down to ‘if you regret it, we can just forget it. I’m not mad at you’. Though, you feel like that might bite you in the ass later.
When your shift is finally over, you don’t want to go home. A bad feeling consuming your whole body, worried about what you might come face to face with. Worried you might run into your ex on the way back. You’d appreciate having one of your work friends walk you back but you don’t know any of them well enough to ask, and you don’t wanna call Johnny right now, not that he’d pick up anyways.  
The walk back is tense, you’re on edge and when you get to your apartment, you realise you were right to be so. Your apartment door has a hole in it where it’s been kicked in, picking up your phone, you call Johnny but of course he’s still avoiding you. So, you leave a message for him and instead call the cops.
You wait for them to arrive; it doesn’t take them long but they weren’t quick about it either. They check it out for you, making sure it’s empty and when they confirm that it is, they tell you so. You walk into your apartment and they ask you a few questions.
You tell them, “I know who did it, it was my ex, he harassed me all day yesterday.”
“Did you report him?” One of them asks.
“Not at the time, but I didn’t think he’d do this,” you raise your hands, gesturing to your ransacked apartment.
“We can’t do much without actual proof, next time you’ll just have to hope to catch him in the act.” The other says.
“We will keep record of this, but yeah, unless you get actual evidence, we can’t do anything about him,” The first one adds.
You could definitely question him, you think.
This is why you didn’t want to deal with the cops in the first place, they never give a shit about things like this until someone is dead.
“Yeah thanks, I’ll be sure to prioritise that next time,” you tone is facetious but you can’t help it, your home has been broken into and possibly robbed and they couldn’t give less of a fuck.
They ignore your attitude, “If you find that some of your items are missing, report it, we’ve got another call to go on, stay safe.” And then they’re both leaving you there, in your messed up apartment.
The place you’re meant to feel safe has been broken into by someone you had dated for a year, someone you used to trust and now you’re just left here. Knowing that he’s still out there and could come back whenever he wants, they didn’t even ask for his name. What are you meant to do? Where are you meant to go? Cause there is no way in hell that you’re staying here.
You’ll have to look for hotels in the area, you’ve only made a few friends here and most of them are campus living. Also, you’d prefer people didn’t know about this. You’re feeling incredibly vulnerable and alone at the moment.
Looking around the room, you see that heaps of your breakables have been chucked around, he broke your tv, some of your favourite mugs, a framed picture of you and Johnny. He’s made holes in some of the walls and flipped over furniture.
Sighing, you go to check your room, and sadly, it didn’t fare any better, it looks like he cut open your mattress and tore up some of your clothes. A lamp broken and on the floor. Right after you just cleaned up the day before too, ironic.
You hear the sound of shuffling in the entryway, stuff being walked into, it makes you freeze in your spot. The footsteps become frantic, walking quickly around your apartment before heading towards where you are at the end of the hall in your bedroom. There isn’t anything you can grab as self-defence, but it’s okay because you see when he enters the room that it’s just Johnny. He was the one stomping around quickly, worried about you.
“Oh my God, why didn’t you pick up the phone, been calling you.” He stresses as he walks up to you, pulling you into his embrace.
You don’t hug him back, annoyed at him, but he doesn’t stop hugging you anyways.
“I put my phone down in the lounge room, didn’t think you were gonna call.” You weren’t expecting him to come, you weren’t even expecting him to check his texts from you, let alone a voicemail.
He huffs, agitated with himself, because yeah this is on him, “I’m sorry, I’ll always come when you call.”
“I called you first,” your voice shakes, tears threatening to fall.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
A tear slips down your cheek, “Don’t want you to be sorry, wanted you to be here.”
“I know, doll, I–” You think he was going to apologise again but cuts himself off, “What happened?” He still hasn’t let you go, and you still won’t hug him back.
“Came home from work, saw my door had been kicked in so I called you, you didn’t answer, so I called the cops.” You detail.
He asks, “What did they say?”
“They can’t do anything to him without proof,” you’re crying now, remembering just how unhelpful they were.
He pulls back to look at you, his thumb wiping away your tears, his hands holding your face gently, “What do you mean?”
“That’s what they said, they can’t do anything without evidence. This will be kept on record but because I have no proof, they can’t do anything about him.” You sigh out.
Johnny looks unbelievably pissed.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, he broke so many of my things, I don’t know where to go,” you’re almost sobbing now, working yourself up.
“Calm down,” he shushes you, “You’ll be staying with me.” Your expression is doubtful, “What’s that look for?” He questions.
“You literally just ghosted me out of nowhere, over an imaginary problem that you created,” you remind him.
His hands let go of your face and land on your shoulders, “That was me being stupid about me being stupid, I fucked up, but I am here for you and you will stay with me.” He cements, not really leaving you any room to disagree.
Tears are still falling down your cheeks, you wipe at them with the back of your hand, “Okay.”
“Good, now pack a bag,” he lets go of your shoulders.
Locating one of your suitcases, you pack as many clothes as you think you’ll need, as quickly as you need, not wanting to stay here any longer than necessary. You also grab some of your basic necessities and memorabilia.
On your way to the front door Johnny carries your bag, “Wait a sec,” you call out to him.
He stops where he is and you walk over to the lounge room, picking through the glass on the floor.
“Be careful,” he warns.
Humming at him in response, mostly ignoring him, you fish out the photo of the two of you. It’s one of your favourites and you’d hate to lose it.
Johnny’s expression is curious, “What is it?”
“Us,” you turn the photo around to show him, “It’s my favourite.”
He smiles at the photo before he frowns, “What a freak, real insecure guy,” he says in reference to your ex.
You smile a bit, because yeah your ex is very insecure and a huge freak but, “You literally fingered me within earshot of him.”
Johnny pouts and looks away, “Still…”
“Let’s leave,” you save him from whatever he was going to say in protest.
He nods at you, “Sounds good, sugar.”
✰ ✰ ✰
Walking through the lobby of Johnny’s apartment is always a bit of a shock, his apartment is nicer and has actual front desk security. You can already tell that you’ll feel safer here, even if you were left alone. You can’t help but feel a little bad for him though, he loved his mansion and he had to sell it.
The ride up the elevator is quiet, which you’re thankful for right now, you’re not really in a conversational mood. Just wanting to shower and get out of your work clothes, wash off the day in general.
Inside his apartment, he shows you to the guest room and drops your bag onto the bed.
Turning to him, you ask, “Can I have a shower?”
“I dunno, can you?”
You scowl at him, “May I have a shower?”
“You may,” he smiles cheekily.
He shows you to the bathroom, you’ve been here before but he’s a thorough man, double checking that you’re comfortable and know where everything is. When you affirm that you will be okay and have everything under control, he’s leaving you to your own devices, wandering off into the living area.
Grabbing your toiletries first before you’re immediately getting inside the shower. All too ready for the comfort the warm water will give you. You let the water run over you, allowing yourself a moment to lose your composure, letting yourself cry under the water. Things could be worse but they could also be better and in this private moment in the shower, you let yourself feel like the world is ending.
After you’ve finished in the shower, you towel yourself off quickly, walking to the guest room with the towel wrapped around you, having left your clothes in there. But as you shuffle the clothes around in your suitcase, you notice you’ve not packed any pyjamas, and now you want to cry again. Because how are you so stupid as to forget pyjamas.
Stopping yourself from spiralling, you take a few deep breaths and go looking for Johnny, you’ll just have to borrow a shirt of his. You find him in the kitchen, sipping on a drink.
“Johnny?” You call out to him; his back is facing you.
He hums as he turns around, eyes growing wide as he realises you’re only wearing a towel.
“What’s up, sugar?” He’s straining himself to keep looking into your eyes and not anywhere else.
Rocking on the balls of your feet a bit, you tell him, “I forgot pjs, do you have a shirt I can borrow or something?”
His gaze is distant for a second, you walk closer to him and wave a hand in front of his face. He catches you by the wrist, “Sure I do, gimmie a sec,” he smiles at you, his eye twitching the slightest bit as he talks.
He wanders away for a few moments, when he reappears, he’s holding a shirt of his. It’s long sleeved and has different coloured sleeves to the rest of the shirt, you gratefully accept it.
“Thank you,” you say, walking away hastily to change.
You hear him hum out a response to you as you waddle away quickly.
When you slip it over your head, you first note how soft and warm it is, and second you note how large it is on you. It covers your lower half fairly well, but you didn’t ask for bottoms and he didn’t give you any so you pick out a pair of boy short underwear, they aren’t anything special but they do have little stars all over them.
Anyways, they’ll do as more conservative bottoms for the night, you’ll go to get some of your pyjamas tomorrow. For now, these will pass as shorts, kind of, it’s unlikely they’ll even be seen anyways. Are you overthinking this? You feel like you’re overthinking this.
Exiting the room, you go back to the kitchen and notice that Johnny isn’t there anymore, nor is he in the lounge room. Shuffling around his kitchen, you look at his ingredients, wanting to cook him something as a thank you for taking you in temporarily.
He hasn’t got heaps but you can make a carbonara, he has the basics for it, pasta, cream, bacon, etc. You think this will do nicely, though mostly you’ve just talked yourself into wanting pasta.
When Johnny comes back into the kitchen, you’re standing by the stove making the cream. Quickly glancing to him, you realise he’s also showered. He looks good, domestic. In a casual t shirt and sweatpants, your eyes linger for a bit longer than what’s appropriate. Swiftly snapping your head back to the stove when you notice you’re staring for too long.
“What’s cookin’ good lookin’,” he sing songs to you, coming up to stand by your side.
You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, “Creamy carbonara.”
“Smells good,” he comments.
“That would be the bacon,” you nod your head to the bacon bits you had previously cooked.
When you look up to him, he’s already looking down at you. His eyes are filled with a kind of affection for you that you’ve never taken any notice of. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips, his hand coming up and grabbing the side of your face, thumb stroking high on your cheek bone.
You lean into his hand and he’s dipping down to you, “You look good in my shirt,” he whispers to you, lips almost touching.
Just as he’s about to take your lips in his, there’s a bubbling sounds coming from the stove.
“Ah, the pasta!” You move out of his grasp quickly, lowering the heat on the stove. It had almost boiled over in your distraction, “Go away! You’ll make me ruin something!”
“Wanna ruin you,” he mutters as he walks away, though you don’t hear him.
“What?” You ask him as he walks away.
He calls out, “Nothing!”
His restraint is wearing thin around you and he wonders briefly, if having you here is going to end well. He almost folded just from you wearing his shirt and cooking for him, he has to find a grip and hold it.
Seemingly, you are completely unaware of his own internal conflict, happily humming to yourself in his kitchen, cooking a meal for the both of you. Johnny watches you from the breakfast bar, enjoying the sight of you flitting around his kitchen.
“Where are your plates?” You ask him.
“Bottom cupboards, by the stove,” he answers.
Bending down you open the cupboards but there’s only baking trays and other miscellaneous oven trays in here. He watches as you bend over, enjoying the sight of his t shirt riding up, seeing your small ‘shorts’ as it does.
You huff, standing up, “No they aren’t.” You turn around to look at him.
“I know, I lied,” he smiles innocently at you.
Scowling at him you ask, “Why?”
He avoids the question, “Just cause,” he shrugs at you, “they’re actually in the bottom cupboards on the other side.”
You look at him sceptically, walking closer to him and looking in the cupboards again, and this time he told you the truth. Grabbing two plates, you place them on the bench top.
Choosing to ignore him, you continue humming a mindless tune as you dish out the pasta. When you’re finished, you slide the plate over to him. Walking yourself around the counter so you’re next to him, you sit beside him and reach forward, dragging your plate to yourself, ready to feast.
“Thanks, doll,” he says.
“Mmm, thank me when you’ve tried it,” you remark.
You both sit in a comfortable silence whilst you eat, which you are grateful for. You’re hungry and want to eat without having to stop to talk. The food tastes good, probably one of the better ones you’ve made, it’s an easy recipe, one of your go to’s and it never fails to fill a hole in your heart where pasta lives.
After you’ve finished, you get up to clean up but Johnny stops you, “Ah, you cooked, I’ll clean.”
“But I’m the one that made the mess,” you contend.
He looks at you with a brow raised, expression reading as ‘really?’ You sigh and allow him to take your plate. As he bends over your shoulder to take it, he kisses your cheek, “It was very good, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” your face feels hot all of a sudden.
He stands at the sink, rinsing the plates off before putting them in the dishwasher, “What made you cook?”
“A thank you, for letting me stay,” you smile watching him clean up, “I’m being a good house guest.”
“Ah, can I expect a cooked meal every night then?” He teases.
Your face pulls up in a joking scowl, “Absolutely not! You can cook tomorrow… and the day after and the day after.”
“I see, so it was a one-time deal,” he nods in understanding.
“Can’t give it away for free, you gotta want it,” you joke.
A quiet falls over the both of you for a moment, neither of you sure what to say next.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” You ask him.
He’s moved away from the sink and is back at the bench, arms holding himself up on it as he looks at you deviously, “What movie?”
You know what he wants, “Not one of yours.”
“That’s not very nice, doll,” he groans out in complaint.
Arguing with him, you say, “I have already seen all of your films, we are not watching one tonight.”
“Whoever gets the remote picks the movie,” he states quickly before making a run for the lounge room.
You aren’t as quick as him, scrabbling out of your chair to chase after him, “Johnny, not fair!” You don’t even know where his tv remote is.
When you make it into the lounge, he’s already holding the remote, wiggling it back and forth, taunting you. Groaning, you trudge up to him.
“That was not fair,” you complain.
He has a large victorious smile on his face, “Wasn’t trying to be fair, sugar. I was trying to win.”
Trying to be sneaky, you move closer to him, but he holds a hand up as you approach, “Ah ah, stay where you are, I won,” he informs.
“I’m not doing anything,” you shrug.
He keeps moving away from you, you’ve successfully rounded him so that his back is facing the couch now. Moving closer to him, he has no where else to go. It doesn’t bother him though, he squares his posture, holding his ground.
“I wouldn’t recommend whatever you’re about to do, doll.” He warns you.
You repeat again, “I’m not doing anything.”
Standing right up against him now, you go to quickly grab the remote but he moves it up and away hurriedly. You grab onto his forearm and try to pull it down as you jump for it, he’s laughing at you. His evasion of your attempts at grabbing the remote are effortless, you’re still trying to pull his arm down to you but you think he’d sooner be able to hold all your weight on one of his arms, than you bringing it down to you.
This isn’t working, you need a new plan. Pulling back, you look up at him.
“That won’t work on me,” he says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” comes your reply.
“That,” he gestures towards your face, “Looking at me all cute like, won’t work, not tonight.”
You smile sweetly at him, “But another night, it would work?”
He squints at you, unsure of what you’re planning, “Maybe…”
Your plan wasn’t anything along these lines, but it’s fun to know that apparently you could get him to bend to your will in different circumstances with just a sweet look.
Stretching up, you go for the remote again, he steadily holds it out of reach, “C’mon sugar, you know this isn’t working–”
You take the chance while he’s talking to jump up on him, legs wrapping around his hips, your hands making a move for the remote. He’s shocked, his free arm automatically coming to rest under you to hold you steady. The only thing he can think to do, is drop the remote onto the floor and kick it across the room, away from the both of you.
“No!” You protest, moving to unwrap yourself from him and go after the remote.
Johnny holds you to him though, before using his grip on you to chuck you down onto the couch, you’re laughing and struggling against him, still protesting. You don’t stop wiggling, even though he’s straddled you and is holding your wrists down to the couch.
“Stop squirming so much,” he chuckles at you. The shirt you’re wearing has ridden up your hips, exposing your underwear completely to him, “Those are really cute, doll,” he teases you.
“You can’t distract me, we are not watching one of your movies,” your wrists struggle against his grasp.
“I can hold you here all night, sweetness,” his smile devilish.
You scowl at him, “If it means we don’t watch your movie, then go right ahead.”
His threat isn’t much of a threat to you, in this moment you feel yourself growing wet at his harsh hold on you. The way he effortlessly overpowered you making you feel some kind of way, you find yourself wishing he’d fuck you into the couch. You’re working yourself up the longer he holds you here. Your thighs lightly clenching at the thought of being opened up on his cock, the first man you’d ever be with.
“What are you thinking bout, sugar?” He asks, catching the faraway look in your eyes.
You blink once and shake the thoughts out of your head, “thinking about how much I don’t wanna watch your movie,” you retort.
“Aww you’re hurting my feelings here, doll.” His expression faux sadness.
Both of you looking into each other’s eyes, neither of you planning to cave, at least not anytime soon. Johnny has enough of it and decides to play dirty, his hands leaving your wrists and instead come up to tickle at your sides and ribcage.
Laughs fall from your lips, along with pleas trying to ask him to stop. The feeling making it harder to breathe, you’re taking in big breaths in between gasping laughs. Your body tries wiggling away from him, you manage to flip onto your stomach and try to crawl away from him but his thighs keep you locked in place, if anything you’re more immobile now. His tickling is unrelenting and you feel like you might pass out.
Tapping the couch as you say, “Okay, okay! I concede, just please stop!”
He hums and leans down from above you, whispering into your ear, “Good girl.”
You hide your face in the couch, skin hot and pussy aching, he isn’t being very nice to you tonight. Working you up, leaving you high and dry. He hops off you and grabs the remote, lifting your legs and sitting back down, resting them in his lap.
He slaps your leg lightly, “C’mon, you have to watch it now.”
Grumbling to yourself as you move up in a sitting position next to him, expression none too pleased. He’s smiling brilliantly at you though, overjoyed with his victory.
Sighing as you sink back into the couch, “I dislike you right now.”
“Well, I like you a whole lot right now,” He counters.
He flicks the movie on and you get about a third of the way into it when your eyelids start slipping shut, tired from the very difficult last couple days.
Thankfully, your dreams are pleasant, though they are filled with Johnny, mostly memories of last night, when you were stuffed full of his fingers, the sounds he was making, the words he spoke to you.
Your mind conjures images of him fucking you, how he would look above you, grabbing your hips as he rocked his dick in and out of you. The dream is pleasant, the feelings it offers you divine.
Suddenly, you’re being pulled back to your body, you awaken with a jolt.
“You fell asleep! That’s really rude of you, y’know. Hurting my feelings here, doll,” he criticizes you.
Based on the last scene you remember watching and where you are now, he either let you sleep for a while, or didn’t realise you were asleep.
You wipe at your eyes, “Mm sorry,” you mumble, stretching out a little.
He’s got an evil smile on his face when you look him in the eyes, “You were moaning.”
“Was not!” You don’t believe him.
“You definitely were, and I’d know,” his smile large as he teases you, “It was cute, what were you dreaming about, mmm?” he hums in delight.
You wonder for a moment what his end goal is here, he teases you but never follows through, aside from the other night but then he seemingly regretted that right after it happened. You decide to try something outside of your comfort zone.
You look at him, “And if I told you I was dreaming of you?”
He goes to shut you down, “I don’t–”
“–If I told you how wet I am right now, from thinking of you?”
“Don’t.”
“Why not?” You press.
“You know damn well ‘why not’,” He argues, “I’m older than you, and you’re a virgin!” He tells you these things like you don’t already know.
“…I want you, making my panties all wet,” you’re squirming in your seat lightly.
He groans out at your words, “Doll…” his expression is pained.
Feeling insecure you ask, “Do you not want me?”
“Are you kidding?” Dubious expression on his face, “You get me so hard, doll.”
“Then why won’t you even kiss me?”
“I want to, all the time,” he confesses.
You crawl across the couch and straddle his lap, his hands come up to your hips straight away. Grip digging into your skin, restraining his desire, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you how he wants.
“Why don’t you,” you press him for answers.
“Don’t trust myself around you, can’t help but tease you, touch you,” his grip on your hips tightens for a second, “The last thing I wanna do is take advantage of you.”
“I want you to take advantage of me,” the statement is true, you’ve never wanted to be with a man more than you do him.
He’s using every fibre of his being to control himself right now, refusing to do any more than hold you, his hands are holding you away from his lap. Knowing if he feels the warmth of your cunt through your panties, he’s going to lose his mind and all self-control.
Bringing your hands up, you place them on his shoulders, and then you lean forwards. Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, moving to the other and placing a kiss there, his breaths become laboured. Your lips travel across his cheek, pecking him as you go, kissing the corner of his mouth, and then a light kiss to his full lips, he sighs against you and kisses you back.
It’s quick, because you’re continuing to peck kisses on his face, a kiss to the other corner of his mouth, and his other cheek again. As you travel back, kiss on the corner of his mouth again, and as you kiss him lightly on his lips, he kisses you back harshly, hands coming up and grabbing your face. He angles you and deepens the kiss, his kiss is desperate for you, fuelled by need.
Without his hands on your hips, you can drop to his lap properly, you sigh at the hardness of his dick against you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into the kiss. You moan against his mouth in response and he groans.
Tentatively, you grind down into him lightly, needing some kind of friction. He distracts himself with kissing you, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your pussy grinding into his very hard dick. You’re so horny and this isn’t nearly enough for you.
Pulling away from his mouth you complain, “Want more.”
“You really are needy, aren’t ya, doll?” He teases.
But you roll your hips into his and he grunts in response, his hands gripping your hips again, without your lips on his, he’s hyper focused on the way you rut into his dick. You pull his sweats down, his cock bare, he’s not wearing anything under his pants and it has you moaning.
You sit down again; your panties are soaked and the feel of the slippery fabric rubbing up and down his cock has Johnny whimpering. You keep grinding into him, groaning in frustration, wanting more.
His hand grabs onto your panties and rips them from you, just straight up tearing them off your body, the display of strength makes you whimper.
“You gotta do this my way, sugar.” He tells you.
You nod your head at him, you’d probably agree to arson right about now.
“God, so fucken eager.” He chuckles at you, sliding you against him again.
The bare contact has you keening, rutting down onto him with more urgency. Wet squelching noises are filling the room as you slide against his cock, you want him inside you so badly. The thought of having him inside you making your cunt drool on his dick.
“You’re so fucken wet, ffffuck,” Johnny is groaning out, his control of the situation hanging on by a thread.
“I want you inside,” you tell him.
“No,” his voice is stern, it’s a line he refuses to cross.
You huff at him, “Johnny please–”
“ – You can plead all you want, Mm not fucking you, your first time isn’t –nghff– going to be on my damn couch,” his voice is strained.
“Want it,” you tell him, eyes teary with how needy you feel.
“And you think I don’t?” He snaps at you. His reaction makes your heart flutter and your pussy throb, “God, you are sooo –ngh– feel so good, sugar.”
His grip is guiding you now, taking control of the pace, of the pressure. He holds you tightly to him, slipping his cock through your slick folds, the head of his cock bumping your clit. Lewd wet sounds are coming from you and if you weren’t so horny you might’ve been embarrassed at how aroused you are.
The head of his cock catches on your pussy hole and you flutter around the very tip of him, a loud grunt coming from Johnny, his chest rumbling with the force of it.
“Please?” You try again, while he’s weak.
He shakes his head at you, his own expression dazed, “No…” he grits out, cock twitching against you.
You push down a bit on him, his eyes shoot to yours, a restrained kind of anger residing inside them, “I said no.” He scolds.
His chastising makes your cunt flutter against him again and his eyes roll back, he pulls you away from him. He manhandles you onto your back so you’re laying against the couch, he pulls off his shirt before spreading your legs open for him, his hips fitting between them.
Resting his cock between your folds again, slipping against you, “You take what I give you, or you get nothing, doll.”
You hum out a moan, letting him do whatever he wants to you. He tugs his shirt up your chest, exposing your upper half to him, mouth immediately going for one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it. The feeling making you whine, chest rising up into him, hips chasing his.
When he pulls away, he nips at you a bit, a shudder running down your spine. As he looks you in your eyes again he says, “Jesus, you have no idea how fucked out you look right now, pretty little girl, so fucken wet, so goddamn needy.”
He grinds down into you, leaning his body against yours, his weight resting on his forearms beside your head. Your hands grip his bare back, his head rests beside your ear, lips whispering filth to you.
“Want me to fuck you so badly hmm? Won’t fuck any of your little boyfriends –ngh– but you’re beggin’ me for my cock,” his words are disrupted by the moans he lets out at the feeling of your slippery cunt.
“Mhmm,” you agree because, yeah pretty much, “I’d let you do almost –hah–  anything to me,” you tell him.
He curses, “Fucken filthy, you’re making me lose my goddamn mind, doll.”
You wrap your legs around his hips, locking them behind him, his movements grow more urgent, desperately humping into you. He pulls his head from your ear to kiss you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth, it has you moaning into him.
Pulling back, he checks, “Let me do anything?”
You nod your head at him in confirmation.
“Open your mouth,” his thumb tugs your lip down.
You open your mouth for him and he spits into your mouth, onto your tongue, the action makes you gasp, face hot.
“Swallow,” he says, eyelids low.
His voice makes you shudder and you swallow his spit down, the sight of it makes him curse. He kisses you again, taking your breath away. Your fingernails dig into his back.
His hips are rutting into you, pace growing quicker, the wet noises sounding slicker, the way he glides over your clit has your eyes crossing behind closed lids. Your moans turn into whimpers, right on the precipice of cumming.
Johnny pulls his lips back, forehead resting against yours, his brows knit together, moans falling from his lips. His tongue flicks over his lip quickly, you’re gasping under him.
“Look so fucken perfect, doll. Should I keep you like this under me? Play with you how I like, mmm?”
His words and deep voice are what send you over the edge, the idea of him teasing you how he pleases has you cumming. You’re sputtering out nonsensical words, whimpers ruining any words you try to create.
Johnny groans at the sight of you cumming, he looks down between the two of you, enamoured by how he’s sliding through your folds. His cock wet and shiny from your slick and cum, it has a shudder running down his spine.
“Wan you to – nghfffuck me nex time, wan – hah – na be fill with you, –mm–  with your – ngh – cum,” you’re babbling to him, barely making sense to yourself, you aren’t even convinced you’re talking right now.
But Johnny knows you are, your words have him cumming violently, dick jerking against your cunt, his cum spilling all over your pussy and lower stomach. His groans turn into moans, and then he’s whimpering as he keeps rutting against you.
He looks at your lower half and the way his cum has gotten all over you, he uses two fingers to scoop it up and shoves them in your mouth. The taste bitter but you suck his fingers clean, swallowing around them. His gaze is captivated by you, groaning at you eating his cum.
Johnny gets up from you and tugs on his sweats, walking away momentarily and coming back not long later with a washcloth, wiping the rest of his cum off of you. When he’s cleaned it off you, he tugs your shirt back down, giving you back some of your modesty. Wandering off again, he disposes of the cloth and comes back with a glass of water.
“Drink this, sweetness,” he instructs, handing the cup to you.
Sitting up on the couch, you accept the cup and drink it down, appreciating the kindness. He sits beside you and strokes his hands up and down your thighs.
He takes the cup from you and places it out of the way, you’re a little dazed still, lost for words at what just happened.
“This can’t happen again,” he tells you gently.
Your expression is confused, “Why not?”
“I won’t be able to control myself next time.”
“I didn’t want you to this time,” you retort.
“Sugar, it’s not just a couple years between us, it’s a decade,” he stresses, “This is inappropriate.”
“Johnny, I appreciate your concern but I am an adult and I can choose who I sleep with.”
“I don’t want to defile you,” he’s terrified of ruining you somehow, of taking advantage.
“If you don’t want to ‘defile’ me, I’ll go fuck someone else and then it won’t be like I lost my virginity to you.” You’re just teasing him.
“Do not fuck someone else,” the look he gives you is even and serious, not even considering the idea of you having sex with someone else. He doesn’t find your comment funny.
You ask him eagerly, “Does that mean you will have sex with me?”
The look on his face is one of a good man trying so hard to stick to his morals. You smile at him sweetly and he practically melts for you, he grabs you and pulls you to him for a hug. Laying back on the couch with you resting on top of him.
He sighs, “Maybe one day.”
You can work with that for now, you smile to yourself, proud of your small win.
✰ ✰ ✰
A/N: Thank you for reading it all!!! I hope you enjoyed it; I wrote a 1k outline for this fic and I wasn’t expecting it to get this long but I’m not mad about it :)) Hopefully you aren’t either! I have a part two planned for this, I’ll probably only write it if people ask for it just cause this one took me a few days to write heheh. As always, requests are open, but don’t hesitate to reach out if you have questions about me, my blog, or specific fics, I love interacting with everyone and answering questions <33 I LITERALLY LOVE YOU ALL
˗ˏˋPart twoˎˊ˗
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ilovebuckers5 · 2 months
Text
*•♡never be like you ♡¸.•*'
nika muhl x cheerleader!reader
"I wanna hold the hand inside you. I wanna take the breath that's true"
word count - 3.4k
themes :
-fluff
-comfort
-toxic rls
warnings :
-arguing
-mentions to abuse
-explicit language
-iowa winning
A/N - did I get you guys. y'all really thought I would wait any longer to post this....
"can we please not do this ash."
i practically pleaded for my boyfriend to not argue with me before a big performance.
it was the day I had been waiting for since I was ever even notified that there would be a uconn game against iowa. I couldn't be dealing with relationship issues right before.
i attempted slipping on my skirt in the bathroom while my boyfriends voice was ringing in my ear no matter how much I tried to ignore it. I hate arguments. especially when they are stupid and have no point in even happening.
"no we are doing this now I don't care! you need to tell me the truth before you leave." Asher growled from outside the bathroom door. part of me wanted to swing the door open and break his nose but I knew that I didn't have time for that. so I gently but swiftly opened the door and forced my eyes into his with probably the most 'i'm not fucking around right now' look I'd ever given him. which is shocking with all of the arguments we've gotten into.
"Asher just fucking stop! I wasn't anywhere, I was literally sitting on the bench waiting for katie to pick me up! why is that so hard for you to comprehend." I pull my face away from his and before I could close the door and continue getting ready I whisper under my breath "its like you want me to cheat on you." the door was about to latch onto the door frame when his pale and veiny hand gripped onto the wooden edge. "what the fuck did you just say?" shit.
he then swung the door open with a force I've never seen before and a wave of fear flushed through my head. there were already tears welling up in my eyes from the yelling and now this just made them fall down my face. inside I was screaming incoherently at his face, slamming the door on his fingers and bashing his head around the room.
this has happened too many times. where we argue and I end up bruised or crying and I have to walk to Natalie's place and cry even more but into her arms instead. there's been too many times where Asher gets away with shit that no other man could get away with. and too many fucking times have I stayed.
his hand was peeled away from the edge of the door and I swear there was hot lava falling out from his eyes instead of guilt tripping tears. "why do you do this to me y/n? it hurts." he dramatically let his hand fall into his palms as more tears fell from his clearly angered eyes. most times I would let myself feel guilty and sorry for him as if I was the one that did the hurting. but this time I was done. nothing was officially over but the moment definitely was. he's going to have to find a way to win my attention back this time.
i tightened my pony tail and grabbed my cheer bag before walking out of our apartment, slamming the door behind me. it was so early in the morning that the sun was only rising as I walked out the door. I'm almost positive that everyone else on the team was asleep so I had to walk to practice. I was only a couple steps into my long walk when a car pulled up in front of me. well not in front but beside me. I continued walking until a window was rolled down and I heard a familiar voice call out.
"yo are you good?"
i was not. I had tears streaming down my face and I probably looked like I was just thrown in a pit of piranhas, but I cant say that.
"huh?" I turn my head to the side to see a white BMW pulled over. the voice I had heard earlier had a very memorable accent in it. Nika Muhl. 5'10 point guard. pretty hair. pretty eyes. just pretty.
"are you okay?" another voice reached out from the drivers seat of the car. Paige Bueckers of course. I finally looked down from my own height and saw a the brunette looking up at me with kinda eyes. her head was slightly tilted to the side while she waited for me to answer her question. "oh. uh." I waited a moment.
just before this I was telling myself that I wasn't going to put up with asher's bullshit anymore. that included hiding what was going on. Asher put me through shit. I mean he curb stomped my head on a pile of shit and dragged my face through it with his bare hands and never felt any regret.
"n-no not really." yeah I did that. fuck you Asher. the feeling of just admitting that I wasn't made the rest of my tears started to drain back into my eye sockets. I could see it in Nika's eyes that she felt bad even if she was smiling and laughing. she popped open the car door and tapped her lap. "well c'mon." she swayed her head, gesturing for me to literally crawl over her lap and get into the backseat, as there isn't a back door. I didn't want to be rude so I sighed and crawling over Nika's lap and into the backseat. I was hovering over her long enough to smell the beachy sunscreen smelling perfume she had on. her hands grazed my thigh that was exposed after my skirt had started to hang down from my position. thank God the cheer uniforms had shorts under the skirts because when I was almost in the back seat next to Ice Brady and KK Arnold, my skirt lifted up right in Nika's face. I almost fell face first into the backseat before I felt Nika's hands grip onto my waist to support me until I was sitting down. I let out a sharp and quick sigh while fixing my hair and and un-ruffling my skirt, I looked into the driver seat to see Paige holding back tears of laughter. I could practically see how red Nika was from the back of the head rest she had her hair pressed against.
i didn't expect the car ride to be as comforting as it was. the entire drive was basically just the girls either singing or asking me questions about cheer. it was all fine before Nika decided to speak up about why I was sobbing on the sidewalk.
"so what was going on with you earlier? before we very obviously saved your ass." I couldn't help but laugh at her remark but quickly got more serious when Paige turned down the music so everyone could hear me. I felt like I was put on a stage with a microphone in a pretty pink dress waiting to win Miss America with everyone's eyes on me while they waited for me to answer.
"oh it was nothing just stuff about my boyfriend...." I tried to shake off the question even though a part of me wanted to scream how much I hated him. I trailed off and glanced to the side to find an unconvinced KK staring at me. KK is funny, I always see her jumping around after a win and shes always filled with energy.
I shrugged and threw my head back before actually giving in. "fine. he's like, really shitty honestly. I want to break up but I can't." the car was silent for a couple seconds while I patiently waited for someone to speak. "what way of shitty? like wants to break up constantly but wont or like- another way of shitty" Paige asked without making any eye contact.
another way for sure. every other way that you could think of Paige.
"guilt tripping manipulative way I guess?" I said, my voice slightly cracking. Nika clicked her tongue as she reached around her seat and looked back at you. "you know you don't have to stay. I know its hard to not stay but you aren't obligated to stay." thank you. that the only thing I was needing to hear in the past year I had been with Asher. I know I'm not obligated to stay with him but Jesus it feels like it. "thanks." the car ride was silent for a couple more minutes before Paige pulled into the driveway of my cheer practice building.
I was just about to get out of the car before realizing that ice was in front of the door I should've been getting out of. I had to crawl over Nika's lap again. I tossed my duffel bag into her lap and its like she could read my brain when she opened her door and gently set the bag out side. but this time she put down her car seat so that there was a (mainly) flat surface for me to crawl over. instead of crawling, I lifted my feet over Nika's body first and then slid myself over her. my ass gently bumps against her lap, almost sending a loud gasp from my lips. there her hands were again. I thought everything was going by quickly but she still had enough time to wrap her fingers around my waist and lifted me from the back seat out the door.
it was honestly hard for me to speak after having to be that close to a practical stranger in the span of 20 minutes but I tried my best.
"thank you guys for the ride. good luck on your game!" as I was waving goodbye while walking down the sidewalk towards the door of the building, Nika yelled out.
"y/n? I'll see you there right?"
oh my fuck she wants to see me at the game. she actually WANTS me to be there.
all I could manage to do without folding over and passing out of the concrete was throw a thumbs up from behind me and continue walking. the moment I stepped or slid out of that car, all the thoughts came back, rushing through my head. how the fuck was I supposed to focus on cheer when my relationship was on the brink of ending. I felt tears well up in my eyes just thinking about it. obviously I wanted things to end but its been a year and a couple months. I don't know how I was going to just break up and be fine. when I swung open the doors to my cheer studio I saw coach and couple other girls sitting down, tying their shoes and fixing each other's hair. coach waved at me once I got through the door. I made my way over to the other girls and gave them each a hug with a very fake warm smile plastered on my face.
"hiii, are you okay you look like you've been crying?" Taylor spoke in a soft, caring mom kind of tone. why is everybody so worried about if I was crying or not. its not that big of a deal just let me cry. I nodded aggressively "mhm. yeah I'm good." the two girls, Taylor and Caydence, looked at each other and they obviously could see through me. I held back even more tears when they shrugged their shoulder continued talking, I knew they didn't believe me but they didn't push an answer out of me like Nika and Paige.
a part of me has always been interested in basketball but the other part kept telling me that I was talented enough or masculine enough. Nika was always an inspiration to me even before I started cheering for UConn. sometimes after practice, as long as there is no performances and I'm not being held back by my coach, I like to go to the public gym and practice basketball by myself. every time I do, I always wish that there was someone there to practice with me. that is part of the reason I went on to cheer for UConn basketball.
i was still stretching when some more girls off the team walked through the door. makeup done, lashes curled ready to go. I still sat in the corner with a couple mascara streaks running down my face. sadly, there weren't any wipes anywhere in the studio so I had to sit with dried cracky mascara on my face instead of my lashes. I stood up after stretching and actually set my bag and water bottle down at some benches before going up to my best friend, Farah, and squeezing her tightly. she had just walked through the door holding a bag with her cheer supplies and another that had a bow tied around it. it wasn't too big but definitely noticeable. my eyes were immediately drawn to it but I waited for her to bring it up after we finished hugging.
"don't act like you aren't wondering what's in here." she shook the yellow back in front of me, letting me take it out of her hands. I scrimmaged through it and found a piece of paper in the bottom. it looked blank until I flipped it over.
mother fucking Farah.
"YOU GOT ME TICKETS TO OLIVIA RODRIGO? WHAT THE FUCK?" I squealed loud enough for the entire team and coach to hear. all eyes were on me but I didn't care. there was literally no reason for Farah to do this at all. shes just a really fucking nice person. she bent over, holding her stomach with laughter pouring out of her mouth. I felt all sorts of feelings rushing through me. confusion, happiness, more confusion, a little bit of sadness because there was only one ticket at the bottom of the bag.
that when everything died down. I realized that she only got one? no way.
"wait did you-" I began to question but Farah stopped me by shoving her finger over my lips.
"nope." she pulled out her hand from her bag and there were two other tickets. why two? why two. two. fuck.
"for Asher!" she held onto my wrists more excited than she was walking inside of the studio. that giddy smile on her face fell quickly. there is no way I'm bringing Asher with to a concert that he wouldn't even give a shit about. all he'd care about is getting in my pants afterwards because my feet will hurt too much to walk away and say no. I pulled myself towards Farah's ear and whispered softly "Asher cannot come with. I'm planning on breaking up with him."
Farah's eyes widened once I pulled my mouth away from her ear. all she did was nod and dropped my hands back to my side. we walked over to the bench and continued waiting for the rest of the team to show up.
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practice went smooth. now its about to start. UConn and Iowa. fuck I'm nervous. I've been a UConn fan for years and this game is one of the things I've always wanted to see in person. they start introducing players while the cheer squad was doing our main routine to the rhythm of a random Taylor swift song. I think it's I knew you were trouble. ironic. the one thing I was not allowed myself to think of was Asher. if I wanted to think about him I would just trick myself into thinking about Nika. wait that came out wrong. anyways. I was just let down on the floor after doing a thigh stand and the team continued dancing until it was finally tip off. I scurried off the court with the rest of my team and sat to the side while a couple girls above me kept moving around with pom poms. we got the ball first and stayed in the lead for a while.
as much as I was pretending to focus on the shots all the players were making, I couldn't peel my eyes away from Nika. she was on Caitlin Clark's ass. not even letting her shoot a three pointer. shes doing so good. she had her hands surrounding the ball, barely letting Clark shoot at all. I admire her for her defensive skills. I believe her aggression really helps with that. shes passionate. she obviously wants to win but on court it looks like shes playing with her life on the line. but she does it with ease. the one thing I kept forgetting was that this could be her last college game. ever. no one knows where shell go after UConn. lots of people are saying overseas and I think that would be the death of me. I watched every move she made. not in a stalker way but in an invested in her game way. the way her hair swayed back and forth while she shuffled around Caitlin. the way she already had a couple balls of sweat falling off of her forehead. I would be lying to myself if I didn't think she looked really hot right now.
and I'm up again. Caydence was holding onto my hips before she tossed me in the air, I landed on her and angels palms before flipping off and landing feet flat on the floor. still holding a pretty fake smile on my lips. once it was someone else's turn to do a crazy flip, I took the chance and looked back at the bench, watching as Nika took multiple sips out of a Gatorade water bottle. her hand rested on Paige shoulder while she shot something that probably motivational and worded beautiful to Paige's ear.
the game was going smooth until the 4th quarter. I could feel my blood boiling while watching the timer tick lower and lower without our score going higher. this cant be happening. 3.9 seconds on the clock. I could practically feel the vibrations of every UConn fan tapping their feet waiting for someone to shoot a three pointer and give us the win. but no. a foul was called on Aaliyah. I don't think it was a foul but what do I know.
as much as I was desperate for us to win, I knew we wouldn't be taking home the win this time. 4.6 seconds. now Paige. what is it with these bullshit calls.
i never liked Iowa. in my opinion, Clark is good at basketball but can be conceited and over hyped. of course I didn't want anyone to come at me with that when Iowa "wins the natty" so i'll have to keep that in my head for now.
i started calming down, trying to accept the fact that there wasn't a point going on but they from the far side of the court I saw Caitlin Clark. the basketball player dubbed as the goat and a women's basketball savior, bounce a basketball off of her so called friend? fuck that shit. I almost stood up and sprinted across the court. me and Paige may not be close but I cant take shit like that. Farah rested her hand on my thigh, telling me to not do anything. because its "out of my control"
it could be in mine. just saying.
and just like that, number 20 gets the ball, throws it in the air, and declares the win for Iowa. I could physically feel my face getting hotter with each tear I saw fall from Nika's eyes. Iowa doesn't deserve this. they have everything. and UConn gave up everything. I couldn't stop myself from crying too. I shoved my face in my hands trying to dry the tears that were slowly ruining my eye makeup/ I feel fucking terrible. how could UConn give so much for this and barely get anything back. just the noise of all the Iowa fans cheering and laughing and the sight of them smiling made me sick. I wont even hide it. I was jealous. jealous that they had such dick riding refs.
who said that.
i wanted, so badly, to stand up and wrap my arms around Nika and Paige and Aaliyah and all the others to just give them some sort of recognition but we had to go. coach led us through the tunnel and that was it. I sat on a bench in our locker room, debating what to do.
and I figured out what to do. right then and there.
even with my hands on my forehead, crying and stressing, the inside of me was happy because I knew that someone wouldn't be feeling so bad on April 22nd.
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lexxiie · 1 year
Note
can we have lov trio + overhaul discovering that their s/o had been cheating on them? 🥺
When They Think You Cheated
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Omg, anon, no! I'm so bad at writing break ups, so I'll change the concept a bit to them believing their s/o is cheating, but she's not.
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Featuring: Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul.
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TOMURA SHIGARAKI
Tomura is an insecure man. That is no secret to either of you, however, he understands how his insecurities may harm your relationship, so most of the time he voices them out so that you can both talk about them, and you always end up reassuring him.
Today, though, he cannot, for the life of him, think of a way to talk out the fact that you have a hickey on your neck. What is there to talk about? The truth that he ignored was that you accidentally burnt your neck earlier this morning while doing your hair, it would've never occured to him, especially when he was as angry as he is right now, observing your neck, a thin layer of make up attempting to cover the mark, but failing. Why would you even hide it if there was a reasonable explanation? He knew for a fact that he didn't left that on your neck.
As much as he wanted to yell at you and dispose of all his rage, truth was that he was really hurt, and so everything he managed to do was confront the reality with resignation. "Who did that?" He asked calmly, but you could hear bitterness in his voice. "What?" You asked, not very sure what he meant. He looked at you angrily now, it was very clear. "Who's the guy that you are seeing? Or do you just happen to have a different one every now and then? You know, I always thought of you as a smart girl, but it is very stupid of you to let them leave your neck like that, you could've tried harder to hide it." You finally understood what was going on... Oh god. He tried to sound as if he didn't care, cold and indifferent, but you knew how incredibly hurt he was.
You immediately got up and approached him, reaching for his face, but he moved to avoid your touch. "Tomura, look, it's a burn mark, I did it with my straightener, I swear." He looked at you through narrowed eyes, still not believing you. You rushed to your room and came back with your straightener in hand, turning it on and attempting to place it on your arm, but Tomura immediately stopped you. "Are you crazy?" The man scolded you, and you looked at him desperately. "It is a burn, I swear." You repeated. Now starting to doubt himself, Tomura then reached for your neck, caressing it softly with his thumb, rubbing a bit of the make up off. You were right. Oh no. He truly felt like a fucking asshole. The man sighed before pressing his forhead against yours. "I'm truly sorry, (Y/n). I'm so, so sorry." You were just relieved it all ended. He spent the rest of the evening tending to your wound, scolding you for putting make up on when it was still so fresh and kissing your cheeks in hopes you would forgive him. Never again will he act like that, that's for sure.
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TOUYA TODOROKI | DABI
Touya sits silently on the edge of the bed as he observes the hotel recipt he found under the bed. It dates a week back, when you were supposed to go on a work trip at a completely different city than the one this hotel was at. Now, he can be very confident some days, and very insecure some other days. This is one of the latter days, evidently. In moments like this, thousands of thoughts run through his mind. Why? Is it because of the scars? But you said you didn't care. Did you lie? Of course you did, who would actually choose him over anyone else? He feels stupid, and so heartbroken. He loves you. He really does, and now all of this hurt has turned into uncontrolable anger.
He stands up and walks to the kitchen, where you turn around to smile at him as soon as you hear him coming, only to be greeted by his beautiful blue eyes contorted in pure rage. He must be a very scary adversary to his enemies. "What the fuck is this, (Y/n)?!" He asks while holding the recipt in his hand, speaking those words through gritted teeth, as if his jaw was frozen because of how angry he is.
"Wait, Touya, is not what it looks lik-" The villain slammed his fist on the kitchen island, flames emanating from it. "It's not?! Really, (Y/n)? Do you really think i'm this fucking stupid?” He is now yelling, very loudly. He starts getting closer to you, and you start walking backwards, trembling. He then takes one more step forward and you raise your arms as if you wanted to protect yourself. Now Touya is the one walking backwards. He would never hurt you, but as he took a step back, he realized that it really looked like it. Did you think that he was gonna incinerate you? Did you think he was about to hit you? The look on your eyes was too familiar, he had seen it in his mother's eyes way too many times. He sighed deeply as he burried his face in his hands. It seemed like he wanted to wake up from a nightmare, and then, as seconds went by and he wasn't lifting his head, you realized he might have started to cry, though he would never let you see him.
"That day-" you started speaking after several minutes, "I decided to stay at a different city because I heard about it being quiet and pretty. I thought maybe I could rent an apartment there, so you wouldn't be at risk. There isn't many people, it is indeed quiet, no one would recognize you, so I looked at a few places. There isn't anyone else I'm seeing, just apartments." Touya finally lifted his head from his hands, and you could see the relief in his eyes, but also a lot of guilt. A lot of it. He got closer, kneeling before you, pressing his forehead to your body, his hands clenching the coat that covered the sides of your frame. This was him apologizing. You caressed his hair softly, everything would be okay.
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KAI CHISAKI | OVERHAUL
He trusts you, he really does, but what is he supposed to believe when you tell him that you are going to the grocery store and you lie. He went there to help you in case you had bought too many stuff since it was taking you a while, but you were nowhere to be found. Minutes later, you come home, smelling like men's cologne that clearly wasn't his own.
God, this can't be happening, he thinks to himself. You walk to him, hoping to get a kiss from the yakuza, but instead you are greeted with a cold stare, his lips don't move when you place yours over them. "Where were you?" He asks visibly angry. "At the grocery store." You answered showing him the two bags on your hands. "All of these hours just for that? You really don't want to piss me off, (Y/n). Not more than you already did." Now his tone sounds like a threat, and you get defensive. "What is that supposed to mean?" You ask him. You have always hated whenever he would talk to you like you were one of his men, and he knew that. "Where did you actually go?" Unbelievable. You still didn't quite understand where he was trying to get, but you did know that you didn't like the way he was interrogating you. "Did you go out to meet with someone?" He asked, this time, impatience ruled over his voice. Okay, so he thinks you are cheating. great.
Leting out a heavy sigh, you dropped your bags on the floor and approached the hurting man before you. Much to your surprise, he allowed you to take his face in your hands. "I went out to get you a new cologne, I noticed you ran out of the last one I gave you. I wanted it to be a surprise, but it is in the car, in case you wish to have it now."
God, did he feel like an idiot right now... You could tell that he was beating himself up mentally. The worst part of it was that he felt truly relieved that you hadn't fallen out of love with him yet. Despise him attempting to seem indifferent earlier, he felt like his whole world was crumbling down before him. Kai then took your hands in his, kissing them softly. "I'm truly very sorry, darling." He said sincerly. "It's okay, I should've made up a better excuse anyway." You replied smiling gently. He couldn't help but smile back, still embarrassed with himself. He compensated you treating you to dinner that night. Kai saw himself realizing how strong he felt about you. The sole idea of you leaving made him feel vulnerable and terrified for the very first time in a while. He was going to need to learn how to trust you more if he didn't want to lose you.
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KEIGO TAKAMI | HAWKS
The pro hero had a lot of work all of the time. He would get home late very often, many times closer to sunrise than midnight. Of course, it was only logical for you to be asleep at those hours, which was always the case. Except for last week.
He had gotten home very late, but still earlier than usual, expecting to find his lover on his bed, hoping he could hold on to you for a couple of hours before he had to get to work once again, but you weren't there. Naturally, he freaked out, but just as he was about to go looking for you everywhere, the main door flew open. He hid on the bathroom, in case it was someone else, but all he saw was you getting on the bed and falling asleep almost instantly.
He let that incident go. He gave you the benefit of the doubt, he gave you his trust. This despite the uneasy feeling in his chest, however, today, you weren't on the bed either. Now the doubt felt very real. What on earth could you be doing at 4 am? He waited a couple of minutes, until you finally got home. The hero was trying his very best not to break down when he saw you. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this hurt. "That other bed must be really comfortable." He accused, startling you as you obviously weren't expecting to see him yet. "What?" you asked, a bit disoriented. "You heard me." Keigo then stood up from the couch, walking towards you. "How long have you been sneaking out for, huh? Cause this is the second time I witness this already" You realized how this looked immediately. Oops.
"Listen, Keigo, I'm not sleeping with anyone else. In fact, I'm not sleeping at all." The man looked at you confused now, all of the anger he previously showed you slowly disappearing. "I have been having trouble sleeping, so i go out and take walks in hopes i'll get tired, I'm sorry I worried you, yes?" You assured your lover as you took his hands in yours, offering him a tired smile. "But why? You used to sleep well before..." All of his previous worries seemed to be forgotten as soon as he realized how tired you looked, his hands roaming your face, as if they would figure out what had changed. "Yes, that was before you would leave all night, I guess I'm a bit more anxious now." You confessed. He felt very bad for adding to your already bad night with his insecurities. Soon after, though, Keigo managed to change his schedule, making sure to spend every night holding you, and he would be lying if he said he didn't miss you too. As for that particular night, he prepared you a tea and talked about his day until he made sure you had fallen asleep.
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MASTERLIST
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amomentsescape · 18 days
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What Should Have Been Said (Part II)
Thomas Hewitt x Reader
Summary: Reader finds themselves alone for the first time in a while, confused on what to do without their home.
Warnings: Angst but fluffy end, cuss words, mentions of dying
Word Count: 1,229
You can find Part I here. A/N: Quite a few of you asked for a Part II, and I am not much for leaving a story so unhappy, so here we are :)
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It had been a full three days since you last saw Thomas, and nothing had felt right since then.
You had no fucking clue where you were going when you ran off that afternoon. But once the adrenaline wore off and your mind cleared, you realized how stupid of a choice you had made.
It took hours to make it to the nearest town. Your mouth felt like chalk, and your feet were dragging more and more with each step you took.
But thankfully, a passerby saw your condition and caught you before your body could fully collapse to the ground.
A short rest and three bottles of water later, you explained that your car had broken down several miles back.
There was no way you were going to be honest about what actually happened. Besides the fact that you felt ashamed and rejected over the situation with Thomas, there was a part of you that still cared about him too much to make him out to be the bad guy. And whatever hatred or anger you might have felt earlier had long since worn off by then, leaving you only with the feeling of pure heartbreak.
The passerby believed your story and stayed with you late into the evening, insisting on making sure you were okay. But after seeing you move around by yourself just fine, they felt comfortable leaving you alone once you reassured them.
And thankfully, your wallet had been in your pocket when you ran off earlier.
You found a nearby motel and rented a room for a couple nights in order to figure out what to do.
But each night came and went without so much as a plan or alleviation from your pain.
Even if you had the strength to make the trek back, why would you even bother? It was clear he didn't want you there anymore. He didn't need you, so what use was it to go back to a home that no longer welcomed you?
Your eyes began to sting again with the familiar feeling of tears before you quickly swallowed the lump and wiped them away.
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
You didn't have enough money to extend your stay, and you had no source of transportation to make it anywhere else.
Your home had been him and now, you had nothing.
You sat on the bed of the dingy motel room for as long as you could before they'd kick you out, finally dragging yourself outside and into the heat once more.
It still burned as painfully as before, but it honestly felt nice to feel something other than utter despair for a change.
You went to a local diner and sat yourself in a corner booth, just ordering a water for the time being.
The waitress seemed to take pity on you and let you just rest there for a while, nursing that same cup of water over the next few hours.
They thankfully weren't too busy, so that was likely why they didn't kick you out before the sun fully set. But of course, the restaurant had to close at some point, so you had to finally peel yourself from the seat and wander out into the night.
You almost chuckled to yourself as you trekked along the dark street. After all those hours sitting alone by yourself with nothing but your thoughts, you hadn't figured out even the slightest idea of what the hell your next step was.
Your footsteps echoed against the gravel in the quiet town.
Thomas had given you everything. Food, clothes, water, shelter, love, a home, a family. Without him, you really had nothing.
You felt the warm tears drip down your face despite your protest. You would think after doing nothing but crying for three days that your body would have been over it by now. But it seemed that tears could never end if the pain was strong enough.
The cacophony of your uneven steps was now mixing with your pathetic sobs as you tried to choke them back. But no matter how hard you tried, the crying just kept coming on stronger.
You weren't able to even gather a breath until you heard a breaking twig off to your left.
Your movements froze and you snapped your head toward the source of the sound, only to be met with nothing.
Literally, nothing. You thought there might have been a wooded area where you were looking, but the night had become so dark that you couldn't see anything but black.
You squinted your eyes, trying to garner up some idea of what was out there, praying that it was just some small animal scurrying around among the branches. But when a looming shadow began to appear within the dark haze, you felt everything in you drop to your stomach.
So much for planning on what to do without Thomas. None of it would matter if you were killed.
You shakily took a few steps back as the figure came closer, slowly.
Was it toying with you?
You tried to back away even further but felt that you no longer had control over your body. Pure fear mixed with exhaustion, and your legs no longer wanted to work. Your body had failed you.
The shadow's hand reached out to your figure and you prepared for immediate pain. And against your better judgment, in a moment of pure panic, you screamed out into the night.
"Thomas!"
Your voice cracked, and you felt pitiful, but if you were going to die, at least your last words would be something meaningful.
The hand finally reached you but instead of the rough grasp you were expecting, you were met with a soft touch from calloused skin.
The shadow was finally close enough that you could make out its features, and you about fell to your knees at the sight.
Thomas was standing in front of you, his hand caressing your face as he stared at you with watery eyes.
Was this real? Maybe you were already dead, and this had all been some nightmare all along.
But his touch felt real, and his scent was all too familiar.
He caught you before you could fully crumple to the ground.
"T-Thomas?"
He nodded quickly and pulled you closer to him as he wiped away the sweat and tears accumulating on your face.
"What are you doing here?" you croaked.
He simply pointed at you with a shaking finger, his eyes never leaving yours.
Some weird part of you wanted to laugh at this. There was no way he could have come this far and found you. How could he?
"You told me y-you would never leave home."
You could feel the tears starting to form again as an unbelieving smile formed on your lips.
He shook his head and pointed at you once again, his finger touching softly against the middle of your chest.
You were his home.
With what little strength you had left, you bent upwards towards him, resting your head against his as he pulled you even closer to him.
He was here now. It was going to be okay.
He picked you up with ease as he began to make the long trek back home, not letting you go for even a second the whole way there.
For those that asked for a part II: @rosehilol @imhungry675 @blackrose8425 @littlechomper
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wrongplacerighttime · 4 months
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agent!harry x agent!fmc
the one where grace and harry are working a late night at the office. he follows her into the supply closet and things get…interesting…and grace realizes just how much she doesn’t hate him // a blurb for little bunny
part one here // part two here // little bunny masterlist
wc: 3.5k
tw: this basically just filthy, dirty smut. MDNI!! 18+. sir kink, breeding kink, little bit of degradation. not sure what else. lemme know if i missed anything. :)
yes, sir.
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It was late, and the last thing Grace wanted to be doing was typing reports. She had her headphones on, working double duty playing music and holding her hair back out of her face. Her fingers were moving rapidly over the keyboard trying to make the work go as quickly as possible. She had more involvement in the most recent case, which meant there was more paperwork on her part that she needed to make sure got filed properly. She reminded herself this is why she liked to sit back and watch more than she liked to be in the field. Grace also had been consulting on a string of murders around LA county and she was waiting for an email back from the chief of police before she left, and the time zone difference meant she would be here for a while longer. She glanced at the clock, the seconds hand ticking and dancing over the numbers, almost taunting her in a way. Her molars clench together in the back of her mouth stifling a yawn growing from her lungs. It really wasn’t that late, but it was December and the darkness crept into the sky earlier and earlier as the days passed and they were in the thick of the season, winter solstice just around the corner, making 8:00pm feel like 10:00pm, and she was ready for bed.
It didn’t help that Harry was sitting across the room at his desk, working on his own reports and throwing the occasional ball of wadded up paper Grace’s way to get under her skin. She had put the headphones on hours ago to drown out his incessant pen clicking and finger drumming that had caused her to lose focus more times than she could count. She had asked him to stop once but he made it a point to do it more obnoxiously and after she had put on her music to drown it out, he resorted to the paper throwing to continue to get on her nerves. A paper landed right on her keyboard and that was her final straw.
“God damnit Harry! Can you just leave me alone for once?” She rips her headphones from her ears and slams them down on her desk…or rather her keyboard and whatever combination of keys being pressed results in her entire file disappearing, whooshing away into inconceivable nothingness. Her eyes ignite with anger and she launches the paper ball back in his direction, hitting him in the face. She should've thrown something heavier, like her headphones.
His eyes narrow at her before a smirk grows on his face. “I don’t like your attitude, Grace.” He teases in a sing-song voice, heckling her.
“Fuck you. I’m trying to work and you’re distracting me.” She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair, tipping her head back and looking at the ceiling. “And you just made me delete this whole file so now I have to start over.”
“I didn’t make you do shit, you should have been more careful instead of throwing a fit like a toddler.” He says matter-of-factly with a shrug and she scoffs, rolling her eyes before opening an empty document and deciding it was better to just ignore him. They’re quiet for another moment, Grace trying to calm her breaths while attempting to recall everything that was on her document as Harry’s fingers clicked over his keyboard, humming a familiar tune under his breath. His actions were maddening, but it didn’t stop her eyes wandering over his slightly unbuttoned shirt exposing his skin...didn’t stop her gaze trailing over the tendons in his forearms flexing and relaxing as he typed. She felt the fire traveling down the wire of her spine, settling right in her belly. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and turns back to her computer and sighs.
“What case are you even working on?” She asks, and he glances over at her quickly before looking back to his blank screen. The truth is, he hadn’t really been working on anything at all. They’d been so busy recently, and he had stayed behind during their last case. It had been weeks since they last fucked. He just missed her. He wanted to just be in her proximity, alone, for a little while before he left…but a little bit turned into three hours. He’s been here, with her, daydreaming about taking her into the supply closet and bending her over a shelf.
“Consulting on a suspected LDSK in Denver.” He lies through his teeth and her nose crinkles at his answer.
“I don’t remember seeing that on the list Aaron sent out?” Her statement sounds more like a question, and he scrambles to come up with an excuse.
“Uh, he just put it on my desk this morning. I’m waiting for an email back from the police department.” His jaw ticks once and she knows he’s lying…that’s his tell.
“You’re lying but whatever.” She mutters and he presses his lips in a flat line. She opens the drawer of her desk, looking for a manila folder but instead sees that she’s run out. She stands, walking past his desk on the way to the door. He spins in his chair to follow her with his gaze.
“Where are you going?” He asks, throwing a stress ball in the air before catching it again, repeating the motion but she doesn’t stop walking.
“Supply closet. Does it matter? Wanna come hold my hand so I don’t get lost?” She feigns in a whiny voice and pushes the glass door open, striding down the empty hallway while shaking her head, the atmosphere almost eerie when no one else is here. The hallway is dimly lit from the flood lights, her eyes adjusting to the difference as she rounds the corner and pushes the supply closet door open. She flips the switch on the wall and the door clicks shut. The supply closet was actually an empty office, so “closet” wasn’t the proper label for it. She weaves her way through shelves of office provisions and she hears the door open and shut again. Her heart races, knowing she’s not alone. Realistically, she knows it’s just Harry coming to bother her. They were the only two here. That didn’t make it any less unsettling…something about being in a small, dimly lit space with him making her pulse skyrocket.
“Go away.” She tries to make her words stern, but they come out shaky. She sees his figure standing in the shadows of the room, and she swallows meekly as she turns back to the shelf where the folders are. “You don’t scare me, Styles. If that’s what you’re trying to do.” She feels his presence moving closer to her and her hands shake as she grips the box in her hands.
“Wasn’t. Just miss you.” His voice is low in her ear and he presses his chest against her back, warmth radiating through the thin material of his shirt. He cages her between his arms, his mouth dropping to the crook of her neck and his teeth graze her skin. He bites lightly causing her to wince, then soothes the pain by lapping his tongue over and kissing.
“Miss me?” She twists around to face him. His breath fans over her lips at their close proximity and before she can say anything else, his lips crash to hers and she groans into his mouth. He smiles into the kiss…at the reaction he always seems to be able to pull from her. Their lips move in synchrony, his tongue darting into her mouth the second she parts her lips. Her hands run up his broad chest before going around his shoulders and she tugs the curls at the nape of his neck. She pushes her hips against him, a primal reaction she can never control, her mind forcing her body as close as she can get to him. His strong arms wrap around her waist, covering the expanse of her back and holding her to him as he walks her away from the shelf and backs her into a wall.
“Need me so bad don’t you, bunny? Can't get enough?” He drops his lips to her collarbone as she mewls, her thighs squeezing together trying to relieve the pressure growing between them. And she hates to admit that he was right. She couldn’t get enough. No one compares to him. Nobody ever would…and she can’t help that she craves him. Craves way he stretches her open, craves the way he talks her through it every time…even craves the way he uses the pet name for her because he knows it makes her tummy twist with desire. He ruts his hips into her and she can feel his hardness pressing into her, catching her shirt and exposing her skin to the frigid air in the closet. His fingers dance over her waistband before dipping underneath. He trails a digit between her folds, collecting her arousal before pressing against her sensitive bundle of nerves and her head falls back against the wall, bucking her hips into his hand desperate for more friction. The gates inside her mind were fighting to be let open, and she's holding the mindset she had been so desperate to fall into at bay. She didn’t want to be vulnerable around him, but something about him just had her feeling so hazy, it was intoxicating just being near him.
“Please, sir. Need you.” The words tumbled from her lips before she realized they even came out. She was desperate, her mind slipping quickly into submissiveness, something she’d tried to hide from him for too long. He pulls back to look at her, the title something he’s not used to hearing from her, and he notices the way her eyes are glazed over and her pupils are blown wide inside her irises, her bottom lip jutting out slightly swollen from their kiss. He knows that look anywhere. Maybe not on her…but god did he love it, his own switch flipping inside him and changing his train of thought
“Oh, my sweet girl. There she is.” He hooks a finger under her chin and thumbs over her lips. Grace opens and wraps them around his thumb and sucks lightly, flattening her tongue against the skin. His eyes flutter and he leans his forehead against hers. She watches him through her lashes, doe-eyed and drunk on him. She swirls her tongue around the tip of his thumb and a groan of pleasure escapes from his throat. He feels his cock twitching against the zipper of his pants and when his eyes open, she sees the darkness in his expression and she feels the heat swirl in her belly, one that she’s grown all too accustomed to around him.
“Knees. Now.” He demands and she complies without a second thought. He’s been wanting to feel her pretty lips wrapped around him since the day they met, when she wore the most perfect shade of pink over them. She quickly brings her hands up to undo his belt and he watches from above, his fingers tracing delicately over her jawline.
“Look at you, so desperate to get me in your mouth, like a good little slut.” She whimpers at his words and quickly makes work at the button, popping it open and sliding the zipper down its track. In one swift move she’s greedily pulling at his waistband, yanking the fabric away as his cock springs free and her mouth waters at the sight.
“‘Cause that’s all you are right?” She looks up at him through her lashes and a devilish grin plays on his lips at the sight of her cheeks flustered and he waits for her answer. Her eyes flick down once to his hard dick against his torso, and she nods in confirmation. Her eyes meet his again, pleading for his permission and needing to feel the weight of him in her mouth more than she needs the air she breathes. But before he gives in to her, he wants to hear her say it.
“Words. Wanna hear you say it baby.” He croons and she squeezes her thighs together with a small whine.
“Y-yes, sir. I’m just a slut. Only for you.” She adds and she sees the look in his eyes go a shade darker.
“That’s right, only for me, bunny. Go on. Suck it.” He demands, grinning at her words and this…this is what he’s been waiting for, this scene with her on her knees in front of him…maybe the supply closet where they work wasn’t the best place, but seeing her like this just for him makes up for it. She parts her lips and wraps them around his tip, sucking and kissing, grazing lightly and teasing him just a little. His fingers intertwine through the strands of her hair, gripping at the root and pushing her forward. She opens further for him, tears pricking her lash line as he nudges the back of her throat. She breathes through her nose, and his chin drops to his chest taking in the sight below him. A sight that fills his fantasies, the image he conjured up in his head to help him get himself off on many lonely nights, and it’s better than he could’ve ever imagined.
“Fuck, Grace. Just like that baby. So good. Look so pretty like this.” His words encourage her, wanting nothing more than to please him. Steadying herself, she grips her hands on his thighs, dimpling the muscle under his skin as she pushes herself further, taking as much of him as she could down her throat and swallowing around him. His free hand darts up to the wall to hold himself up, the sensation of her throat squeezing around him making his knees weak. A string of expletives fall from his lips as his eyes flutter closed, rolling back into his head. He pulls away momentarily and she breathes in, before he’s slowly thrusting back in and making her gag around his cock again and again.
“Fucking hell. Look at you…taking it all down that pretty throat. Knew you could, knew you’d do so good for me.” He speaks between gritted teeth. His encouragement sends her mind into a frenzy and she flattens her tongue against him as she pulls her head away, leaving just the tip and she swirls her tongue around it before sliding him down her throat again, repeating the motions. He tightens his grip around the strands of her hair, pulling at the root and she hums, sending vibrations through his length. With a curse under his breath, he pulls her off before she has him cumming down her throat. She breathes deeply, the deprivation of air stinging her lungs as it filters back in through her nose. Her chest heaves with heavy breaths and her lips are swollen, tears stained with mascara streaming down her cheeks from his intrusion. He can’t help but think she looks ethereal like this, all drunk and dumb just from his cock down her throat. “Up, baby.” He commands and she stands, he takes her cheeks between his hands and brings his lips to hers, melding them together and her eyes squeeze shut, still searching for the breaths she lost.
“Please fuck me.” She begs, her voice raspy as she breaks the kiss and he wastes no time as he spins her around, her chest pressing against the wall. He yanks her jeans and underwear down all in one go, running his hands over her now exposed skin as he’s eye level with her dripping hole.
“So pretty.” He mumbles, running his thumb over her and watches as she clenched around nothing. He taps her ass lightly once before he stands and she grins. He guides himself to her, sliding through her arousal and bumping against her clit. Grace looks down, watching the way he slides between her folds and his tip glistening with a mixture of the both of them in the dim lighting. He pulls back and slowly, finally, pushes himself into her and her eyes flutter closed, a garbled groan coming from the depths of her throat at the stretch, feeling every ridge…every vein. He stills once he’s fully sheathed inside of her, grabbing her wrists and forcing them behind her at the base of her spine. He holds them there as he pulls out, cursing under his breath at the way she grips him. He snaps his hips, pushing through her walls without warning and she feels the tears well in her eyes once more, the pain mixing with the pleasure sending sparks down her spine straight to her clit. He drives into her again and again, sweat forming on his hairline and cries and moans falling from her lips.
“Gonna fill your pretty little pussy up, get you all full of my cum.” He leans over her and speaks against the shell of her ear. A pathetic whine leaves her throat at the image of him dripping from between her legs and down her thighs. And she loves it, every single time she can’t get enough, feels like it gets her high. He feels her clench around him at his words and he smirks. “Yeah? Y’like that? Like the thought of me claiming you, branding you with my cum?”
“Yes — god yes..” She groans, the thought of walking around with him all warm inside her making her feel floaty. His grip on her wrists tightens and she bites her lip, the pressure inside her growing and coming to a head.
“Sweet bunny, bet you’d like it if I got you pregnant too, huh — fuck — wanna see that cute little belly swollen, let everyone know who you belong to.” He growls, his teeth brushing the cartilage of her ear, and her head is spinning at the image he’s painting inside her head with his filthy words. His ring-clad hand reaches around her hip and he presses his fingers against her clit, her head falling back against his shoulder. She pants, feeling his broad chest against her back, the friction of their bodies making her skin hot. He pinches the pearl of nerves between his fingers and her mouth falls open.
“Oh fuck Har-Harry I’m gonna —”
“I know, bunny. Squeezing me so tight, cum for me.” He rubs his fingers over her clit and then she’s seeing stars, eyes squeezing shut and his name falling from her lips like a prayer as she pulses around him, pulling him over the edge with her. He grunts and groans against her shoulder, praising her and riding through his own orgasm while holding her up. Her legs feel like jello and when she feels him twitching inside her she hums in contentment. His hips still, and he leaves open mouth kisses against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin and leaving goosebumps.
After another moment catching his breath, he pulls out of her and tucks himself back into his pants. He bends down, pulling her pants up for her and spinning her around to button them. She looks up at him through her dopey eyes and he knows she isn’t quite back down to earth yet.
“Gonna hold all of me in there til you get home, m’kay sweet girl?” He brings his forehead to hers as she nods aimlessly. He pecks her in the tip of her nose once. Then her lips and she lets out a whimper into his mouth. “Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” She mewls and he smirks, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the supply room. He walks them back to their desks, gathering her laptop and papers into her bag as she watches him, her conscience coming back to reality slowly but surely. He doesn’t say anything, offering his hand to her again wordlessly and she reluctantly takes it. They ride the elevator down to the lower level in silence, his foot tapping on the floor. When the doors open, she keeps her head low and quickly exits, making her way out the front door of the building to her car parked across the street. He follows behind her, parked in the same lot. He turns to her before opening his door. She bites her lip, fighting the grin that wants to emerge.
“See you tomorrow, bunny.” He says just loud enough for her to hear, the streetlight casting a warm light over his features making her heart swell. She nods.
“Tomorrow.” They both slide into the drivers seats of their cars. She watches as he drives off, a pang in her chest almost wishing she was going with him. She shakes the thought away, starting her car and driving home on autopilot as her mind wanders, her thoughts full of him…his voice…his eyes…the ink scarred into his skin. She pulls up to her apartment building, sighing and cursing herself.
She thinks she’s falling for him. Grace walks inside, her mind racing around in circles.
She couldn’t be in love with him, because they weren’t supposed to let their feelings get in the way of their job…and whatever else they had going on between them. It was just sex. She runs her hands through her tangled hair as she unlocks her door, pushing herself inside and dropping her bags on the floor. She completes her night routine in record time and climbs between the covers sheets on her bed, her head hitting the pillow signifying her favorite time of the day. Her mind is a little hazy still, and sleep pulls her under into dreamland.
They were filled with him, and she was fucked.
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eydi-andrius · 9 months
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Ours, huh. (Malleus Draconia x Reader)
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a/n: just an exercise after my long break. also, malleus was so adorable at the current event. where he came three hours early so he will not miss his first vacation outside briar valley
cw/tw: unedited, pure brainrot for malleus
🐉 🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉
"I definitely heard that thunder loud and clear." Cater nervously laughed and looked outside the window of the mirror chamber.
It was true though. The once beautiful morning slowly turns dim as dark clouds with lightning crawl out and hide the sun.
"Wow! I've never seen Tsunotarou make that kind of expression before. Look! He's turning really scary." Grim grimaced and made sure to move closer to you as he watched Malleus' expression turn darker and scarier. The more you stare at his hulking stature, the louder the thunder outside.
Jamil was not at fault though for making Malleus angry. A royalty without an escort to a public event will surely be a problem. A national security level of problem. You're actually weirded out that Sebek wasn't here wreaking havoc because Malleus will go out alone. Lilia probably has him on a chokehold.
"Why was that? Draconia has been here for three hours. I think he was that excited to join you today." Crowley, just like how useless he was, emphasizes how much Malleus has been looking forward to this trip, more than doing his job as a professor and interfering with the problem at hand.
You watch Malleus' mood turning sour, as he hears the professor's words, and Jamil trying his best to make his point across when you hear Trey coughed behind you. You looked back at him and Trey nodded at where Malleus was standing. A frown was your only response, wondering what he meant. His only reply was an exasperated sigh when you did not understand him. He then opened his mouth to speak without sound, mouthing about Malleus again but you're far too slow to understand that too.
Done with the way you and Trey danced with each other, Cater held your shoulders, and forcefully made you look back again at Malleus. As you turn, a loud crack of thunder hits near the school that makes you flinch. It took you awhile to regain your composure but once you got yourself together, you almost choked in fear on how furious Malleus is looking right now.
If he was in his dragon form, he probably would have eaten and swallowed Jamil – whole.
Not giving you enough time, Cater pushed you towards Malleus and you tripped in front of him. Good thing his reflexes were fast and he was able to catch you on time. The air of anger and malice immediately vanished and his eyes softened as he looked at you.
Ah! They want me to take care of Malleus for them. These Heartslabyul friends of yours. You wonder if they were truly your friends or they were just using you when they needed your help. Tsk.
"Child of man, are you alright?" Tone soft and calm, he asked you. He even checked if you have any scratches from your accidental tripping.
"I am fine, Tsunotarou. Was it true that you waited for three hours here?" When Malleus blushed at your question, you also blushed in return.
"I did. I was afraid I would miss it so I woke up earlier than the agreed time."
Still a little excessive though. Was the thought inside your head but you know too well that Malleus' fear was valid. Somehow, even with his tall stature, people always miss him out or completely forget him. It always has been a mystery to you, especially when you never forget to invite him in everything you do. It wasn't that hard.
"You must be tired waking up that early. But I'm so glad you're coming with us today. Right, Jamil?" You looked at Jamil, who looked like any minute now he would pee in distress. So with your eyes, you silently begged him to just agree.
With no other choice, and with the incestent of Kalim, he agreed.
Glad that everything worked out, you intertwined your arms to Malleus' right arm.
"Let's enjoy our first vacation outside NRC, shall we?" You asked him with a broad smile and a tilt of your head.
He looks surprised at first with the gesture. His eyes wide and mouth agape. But when he got himself back, he gave you a sly grin.
"Ours, huh. Well, let's enjoy it together then." He gave you a smile and you did not fail to notice how the flowers seemed to bloom and the sun shone brighter outside before the mirror took you all to your destination.
🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸🐉🌸
Let me know your thoughts! And thank you in advance for your likes, comments and reblogs! <3
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loserlvrss · 3 months
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꒰ 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 ꒱ 정성찬
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summary : you and sungchan have been in a situationship for some time, and the pot was finally boiling over
genre : fluff, slight angst, suggestive, sungchan x afab!reader tws : language, pet names, kiss, slightly suggestive content author notes : wrote this like 10 minutes after i woke up lmao word count : 0.8k
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you were nervous. much more nervous than you ever had been — not even your exams could compare to the feeling of dread inside your chest, caving in your lungs. your hands fought each other subconsciously as you paced the front part of your apartment.
you thought of yourself as stupid, there was nothing else to describe the feeling of embarrassment, that was now mixed with guilt.
you’d seen it. your situationship making out with another girl during your shared physical education class. you’d seen it, and you watched in disbelief until he turned his head, catching your horrified gaze.
you had no right to be making faces at the two. you had no right to be upset. he wasn’t yours, and you made it clear all those months ago that he never would be.
so, why was your heart racing so much?
even the thought of him was enough to make you feel weak in the knees. the sight of him alone enough to make you crumble where you stood. he wasn’t yours, but he made you feel the same as if he was.
maybe this new feeling was too scary and that’s why you called him over. maybe you needed him to say he liked her better for you to break it off. maybe you needed something from him that you were too afraid to ask — that you never could, and frankly, never should.
you knew his reputation. hell, everyone did. he was a player. a womanizer. anything that wasn’t loving and caring… but the way he brushed stray hairs away from your face before kissing you oh-so gently; or the way his hands moved with so much caution against you; or the way he’d call you his baby, his pretty girl, contradicted all the rumors.
maybe, they just didn’t know him like you did.
but did she? did the girl he was lip-locking earlier today experience the same man you knew? did she get the sweet princess treatment, and intimate moments that shouldn’t be shared? did she get butterflies when she saw him, the ones that flew so fast it made you nauseous?
you don’t know why that made a lump clog your throat, and an anger form in the pit of your stomach.
he shouldn’t have been anything special — just another guy — but he was special… special to you. and that terrified something new in you. something you were scared to get close to, but scared to lose all together.
in the depths of the night, when he was curled up by your side, you even wondered if this was what love was. you pretended you knew everything about anything, but when it came to the feelings he instilled in you, you were just as clueless as the rest.
a knock on the door sent you away from the what ifs, and it took a lot of strength to get your feet to move to it.
you shook ever-so-slightly as you opened it, revealing the man that wasn’t yours on the other side.
your eyes couldn’t meet his, “i-i —“
he cut you off before you had the chance, “i hated it.”
“what?”
his hands rested down by his side, and you knew he was looking down at you despite you doing the opposite. “it wasn’t you. it’ll never be you. god, you really fucked me up! do you know that, y/n? do you know that i can’t stop thinking about you in situations where i shouldn’t? when i really fucking shouldn’t.”
“i-i’m sorry?”
he fully came through the door, letting it slowly swing closed behind him. his hands were on your cheeks, forcing your eyes to meet his. this was the intimacy you were talking about. and despite it being so casual to and from anyone else, from him, it felt like a confession every time.
his voice lowered a little bit to resemble a half-whisper, “do you feel the same?” but he already knew the answer. the look in your eyes when you caught him in the act was so endearing to him, engrained in his memory, it had him reading you like his favorite book; which you were. he knew all your signs, and now he knew all your tells. “because i can’t do this anymore, and i know you said we’d never take it further, but i —“
“it’s too late, sungchan.” you admitted, finishing what he was starting, “you already have me.”
his lips were on yours faster than the words left them. he had you going up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, making the kiss deepen. his palms rested steady against your cheeks, stroking them gently with his thumb through the synchronicity.
this kiss felt different; like something inside you had snapped, setting the waterfall of emotions free. and, this time, it didn’t feel like either of you had to hold back.
he walked you backwards, never once breaking apart from you, until you both hit the couch.
“and i’m never letting you go, okay?”
you fell back first with a huff, and he climbed on top of you, settling between your parted knees. your fingers carded through his hair as you kissed so passionately, it could’ve been considered pathetic how desperate it was in reality.
your night could’ve went one of two ways; he’d love you all the same, or he’d leave you. and, tonight — and hopefully forever — you were glad it wasn’t the latter.
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reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!
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mokulule · 4 months
Text
The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached (Catnip) - part 10
First| Masterlist
It was near noon. Tim was in civilian dress outside of Jason’s door. He took at deep breath. Worrying did not help. It did not help to think about the fact that Jason had pointed a gun at Bruce last night. That he had looked very close to pulling the trigger.
It wasn’t that Tim hadn’t noticed something was up with Jason. Of course he’d noticed, a blind man would have noticed. But this was Jason, something was regularly up with Jason. And like when wasn’t his relationship with Bruce strained? Basically never? 
But things had been getting better. Jason had stopped crime-lording, left that to his lieutenants, who as long as they followed the rules, operated relatively unmolested in Crime Alley. It worked. He kept apart, but he was on the same comms as them. He helped out if there was trouble. He cared, they all knew he did. Even if things were still hard. 
It was a bit back and forth but generally the relationship between the bats and Red Hood had been getting better - like the overall trend, Tim had a graph. There was a prognosis that Jason may join them for Sunday dinners in a couple of years. So it was not so weird that Jason had been drawing back, Tim had assumed that was just some of the regular fluctuation that happened now and again. 
But this?
Jason pointing a gun at Bruce?
That was more than just a fluctuation! That was something else, and it all lead back to Jason meeting the Ghost about 5 weeks ago. Jason had been odd that night, there had been something uncertain, hesitant, about him. Tim had brushed it off at the time, there could be any manner of reason for Jason to act a bit off, guilt being the obvious one. Jason for all his gruffness did not like accidental violence, his violence had a purpose and was doled out to those he deemed deserving. 
At one point that had been Tim. 
That thought sat heavy in his chest as he took another deep breath. 
Was he the best person to do this? No, probably not. But someone needed to do it. Dick was on a Justice League mission halfway around the world. Cass would probably have been safest, least likely to piss Jason off, but Tim couldn’t outsource this. Tim needed to talk to Jason, to assess him himself. 
Finally, heart steeled, he knocked on the door. 
There was movement inside, footsteps coming to the door. There was a rumble in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the text:
You should not be here.
Tim scowled at the door. “I am not leaving. I need to talk to you.”
There was a moment of silence that dragged. Tim would wait out here all day if he had to, he was stubborn like that and Jason knew it, which is why eventually the sound of the locks turning reached him. Tim carefully kept the victory out of his face. 
Jason didn’t meet his gaze as he let him in and locked the door behind him. He didn’t bother to reset the traps. Instead he padded barefoot over to the kitchen counter.
“Coffee?” He asked, voice scratchy.
Tim didn’t respond immediately eyes too busy following the small trail of blood Jason left behind where he stepped. 
“Tim?” His eyes snapped up, meeting Jason’s tired eyes. 
“You know me,” Tim finally responded weakly. Jason looked… sick, was probably the best word. He was pale, the bags under his eyes so dark they looked bruised. His hair was unwashed and there was something about the weariness in his posture that made him look small in his loose t-shirt and sweatpants. 
Something about the image deeply alarmed Tim and he retreated with a, “I’ll just use the bathroom real quick.”
He noticed the crunch under his shoes even before he saw the broken mirror over the sink; that explained why Jason’s feet were bleeding. Fuck. He sank down onto the closed lid of the toilet and put his head in his hands. This was so much worse than he’d thought. Tim could handle anger, not whatever that was.
“Fuck,” he repeated his earlier thought, quietly and emphatically. Then stood, flushed and washed his hands, to keep up appearances - for something to do. Stalling didn’t help.
He walked back out to find Jason sitting at the small kitchen table with two cups of coffee, one of them placed in front of the empty seat across from him.
Tim sat down and picked up the mug with both hands. He sniffed the rich aroma before taking a sip, Jason had great coffee.
“What do you want, Tim?”
Tim looked up and opened his mouth to reply, something, a deflection, but Jason didn’t let him.
“You’re obviously not here for my sake, so cut to the chase.”
Tim’s mouth clapped shut and his lips thinned. Outrage burst in his chest at the implication that he didn’t care. But Jason was right. He wasn’t here to check on Jason for his sake, he was here to assess him. To make sure what happened last night would not happen again. He was there for them, for the mission, not for Jason. 
Jason was right and it stung. 
Well far be it for Tim to further try to delude them both. 
“I need you to stay away from the Ghost.”
“Like Hell!” Jason snarled jumping to his feet, and there was the Jason Tim had expected, and he held the instinctive fear in an iron grip, not letting it reach his face. There was only a tiny tremble as he brought the cup back up to his lips.
Jason paced. Then turned on Tim, eyes with just a hint of the green they didn’t talk about.
“You cannot bench me,” he spat.
“I’m not. I’m asking you, Jason.” Tim carefully set down the cup.
Jason frowned and this was the one chance Tim had to convince him, he had to make it count.
“He disappears as soon as you get within 20 yards of him. I will figure out a way to capture him, but I cannot do that when he keeps disappearing. I need you to hang back.”
Jason was wavering, his hands clenching and unclenching.
“Please.” Finally Jason sighed and the weariness was back, he sat back down heavily. Leaning his head on his hand he spoke quietly, “he needs help, Tim.”
Tim didn’t know what made Jason so certain of that, but Jason didn’t know what Tim suspected either, what the ghost could be building. 
“But first he needs to be stopped.”
There was a long moment of silence...
“I’ll hang back.”
“Thanks.”
-
Taadaa! The misery continues... Things will be coming to a head soon, I don't know if you can feel it? I just have to write a small Danny POV, and then Tim coming up with the plan and then we'll get into it, it's exciting.
If you wanna subscribe to the story you can do so here
Update: next
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saintescuderia · 3 months
Text
ANTINAL // CS55
(a pancakes oneshot!)
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AKA - carlos tries the local food in jeddah without you - and suffers as a result
series masterlist here :)
the pancakes recipe here :)
A/N: this was written as a coping mechanism for the fact that carlos is sick and might not make jeddah
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“Please tell me what you were thinking.” 
You walked into the room to see the Spanish driver sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes from the nap you had just woken up him from. Good. You had seen his Instagram story and the bragging of the 50km bike ride around Jeddah. With the Ferrari contract coming to an end, Onoro was working overtime. Carlos’ schedule was now jam packed with all these PR moments, both official in having meetings and dinners, and unofficial and his Instagram was now becoming his CV. 
Case in point, let me show off my athleticism. 
“I wanted to go for a bike ride.” Carlos said simply. His ran a hand through his bed hair, wild from his nap, and then his eye adjusted to you. “Don’t dump your bag there.”
“Then don’t keep your shoes here.” You retorted as, of course, his shoes were right by the door. You two had often argued about it, him haphazardly taking them off as he walked into the hotel and you tripping over them and then nagging him about it as you kicked them to the side. As now, you nagged at him and kicked the white sneakers out of your path. 
However, in doing so, you stopped and bent down to pick up the shoes. You looked at him and then back at the shoe with the Nike swish. A surprised smile found its way on your face, distracting you from the issue at hand. 
“You went out in dunks?” 
“You bought them for me to wear.” He said as if it were obvious. “Girlfriend affect.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute that was. For a second, the whole thing disarmed you and made your forget why you had rushed to the hotel room in a huff. 
Then Carlos reached for some pills on his bedside table and it all came rushing back. 
It wasn’t like you disagreed with all the extra stuff Onoro had his cousin do. Carlos needed to start working now if he wanted to find another seat for next year. You all agreed to it. What you didn’t agree to was Carlos taking stupid risks with his training and doing stuff like a 50km bike ride in Saudi Arabian weather without you. The heat stroke alone was enough to knock him out and prevent him from actually racing that weekend. 
Case in point, right now. 
“Alright kids I gotta get to work, if I don’t input those numbers… doesn’t make much of difference.”
You snorted, immediately tuning into the iconic voice of one Chandler Bing. You look to where the TV was playing one of the earlier season of FRIENDS, the cast looking especially younger. You looked back at Carlos and frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. 
“What? You always say I should watch it.” He said. 
It wasn’t that Carlos was watching FRIENDS. It was the fact that he was in bed watching FRIENDS. If there ever was someone more pedantic about sleep hygiene, it was him. If he had just woken up from a nap, it wasn’t planned. Suddenly, your worry about his wellbeing overtook your anger. 
“How are you feeling?” You asked as you came to sit on the edge of the bed he was still reclined in. You brought a hand to his forehead and noted his temperature. Nothing alarming. Though, he was shirtless and the AC was on. You also noted the green gel of aloe vera he had likely stolen from your own suitcase. At least he was taking care of himself. 
“Better now that you’re here.” He said and reached up to bring the hand that was feeling his forehead to bring it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your fingers. You rolled your eyes but still couldn’t help but smile. 
“You’re not going to get out of this.”
“Out of what?”
“Carlos, I saw your story.” You said. 
“One second mi amor.” Carlos flipped the bed sheets back and then climbed out of bed. He rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. You stared at him confusedly as suddenly there was music playing from inside the bathroom. You were really at a loss with this one. Especially since you recognised the song and wondered since when your boyfriend willingly listened to Metro Boomin? 
Carlos was particular about his bathroom time and if he was playing music, you could only assume he wasn’t in there just to take a piss. Evidently he was going to be in there for a while and that meant you would have to occupy yourself until then. 
There was a coffee machine at the small kitchenette that was calling your name. You had woken up earlier than usual to help Oscar through some drills before the race weekend and the need for caffeine was all too real. As you popped the pod into the Nespresso machine, you realised the spread of half-eaten food Carlos had likely ordered - and dumped into the kitchen sink. 
You knew his diet well since you had been the one to essentially create it. It had been a painstaking process to carefully craft a regime that allowed Carlos to hit his protein goals - and indulge in his love for food. Because man, did Carlos love food. He had pretty much wept at the sight of you poached chicken breast all those many months ago. Since the relationship between the two of you had shifted on from the strictly business of a trainer-driver relationship to becoming a fully fledged romantic couple, Carlos had taken you out to countless restaurants. He had a list in his Notes app of all his favourite restaurants, bars and cafes all around the world and had decided to take you to every one come a Grand Prix weekend.  
You thought it was stupid since he needed to work but one could never be mad at those eyes. It was how he managed to get you to let him eat all that he did. 
So to see that Carlos Sainz, the Spanish foodie Carlos Sainz, had ordered a lunch of plain fruits and plain toast— you were immediately confused. Suspicious even. Carlos eating plain toast was… unfathomable. 
You made your coffee and opted to just wait until Carlos could explain his choice of breakfast. The way you saw it was that he was restricting himself with such low calorie foods in the hope of shedding weight and hopefully then bettering his race. 
The coffee had finished pouring and you huffed as you picked up the cup and went to sit on the bed. 
“I can’t stop smiling.”
“I can see that. It’s like you slept with a hanger in your mouth.”
Sitting on the bed, you blew on your coffee and tried to focus on Rachel and Monica on the TV - and not how Carlos was currently his own worse enemy. It was no use to tell him off now. Reyes had told you how the Junior was like the Senior in the toilet being a sacred space. You don’t bother Carlos on the toilet. 
You had done that once and it was the only time Carlos had ever snapped at you. 
Something buzzed in your pocket. It was likely Oscar asking about lunch and so you went to set the coffee on the bedside table to free up your hands and respond - when you saw it. 
You recognised the Ferrari water bottle with the personalised 55 decoration. 
You also recognised the Antinal box of pills that were half opened beside it. 
Oh. 
Suddenly all the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The plain foods, the lack of forewarning as he jumped to the toilet, the impromptu nap. Carlos wasn’t unfit for Jeddah because he was overworking himself, Carlos was unfit for Jeddah because he had diarrhoea.  
Looking down at the familiar bottle of pills, your only question now was how in the fuck Carlos knew to take it. Sure, Antinal would’ve been your go to if you were hit with gastro or food poisoning or whatever it was that was now plaguing your boyfriend. Your auntie used to have a hoarded stock of the medication in her cupboard above the microwave. You swore that the stuff was magic. It was better than any of the medication you had found in the US or UK. Though, how Carlos had managed to get hold of Egyptian diarrhoea medication was beyond you. 
You looked back at the white dunks by the door and remembered how while you had been training with your brother, your boyfriend had been doing some PR for Saudi Arabia and touring the local streets. 
The door finally opened and out came Carlos, patting his stomach. You said nothing as he came to sit on the bed beside you, not questioning how you took his side. He wordlessly climbed back under the covers and you felt all the anger, all the worry wash out of you. All you felt now was genuine fondness for the sick boy beside you. 
“You tried the local food without me.”
It was a statement but Carlos still curled up beside you and mumbled an affirmative “Yes.” to your side. Your arm came up to wrap around him and start playing with his hair. 
“How the fuck did you find Antinal?”
“I asked Oscar.” 
“Oh, habibi.” You couldn’t help but croon as you had to imagine Carlos going to your brother, someone he admittedly didn’t get along with all too well and asking for help because he had stomach problems. Still, you knew Oscar wouldn’t have said anything or made jokes. No matter his feelings towards Carlos, Oscar wasn't like that. Besides, you had taught the young driver enough.
For example, to always have gastro medication. No matter what. 
Carlos didn’t saying anything and you didn’t feel the need to add anything. Instead, you slowly got up from sitting on top of the covers and came to slide yourself underneath them. You brought your arm back around Carlos and resumed your comforting massage as he rested beside you, eyes closed. You, however, were sipping on your coffee, half your attention on the 90s sitcom currently playing - “I can’t believe you didn’t know it was a line!” - and the blue and grey text bubbles between you and the driver you considered your little brother.
Oscar was now asking if dinner was an option since lunch was evidently now forgone that Carlos was asleep next to you. 
“I’m sorry.” 
Or so you thought was asleep. You blinked, looking down at the boyfriend you thought had drifted off again. 
“For what?” You said, dropping your phone and sliding down to bring your face to his. You lightly traced his face and saw the way his frown between his brows eased, his lips lifted slightly. 
“Ricciardo made a joke about my contract in front of Lewis. It’s why I went out for that bike ride and posted about it.” He admitted. You bit back any of the words that immediately came to mind and how you wanted to rip into the stupidity of letting someone like Daniel Ricciardo getting to him. Sure, there was some clear bad blood but you really had hoped Carlos wouldn’t have let it get to him. Danny was just a scorned ex after all.
“If anything, I should be mad that you went to explore restaurants without me." You said lightly. "What happened to us having one couple date a weekend?”
Carlos’ eyes blinked open at that as his smile grew. You felt warmth inside you bloom seeing that beautiful, beautiful smile of his. Your phone buzzed again and you turned over to pick it up and read the message from Oscar. You snorted. 
“What?” Carlos asked. 
“Oscar says he hopes you feel better.” 
“That’s nice of him.” Carlos said, sitting up slightly to reach over you and go for his water bottle. This made you sit up also and now you both had your backs to the headboard, sitting up in the bed. 
“I think he just wants you to race so he can get payback for Spa last year.” You said. Oscar’s next text thread confirmed this and you chuckled and went to pick up your coffee to take a sip. Carlos shook his head and went back to lay his head on the pillow. 
“When does this kick in?”
“The antinal?” You asked, grinning as you still couldn’t believe Carlos Sainz was using your Middle Eastern auntie’s magical cure for anything stomach related. “Maybe an hour after taking it, depending on how bad it is.” Carlos frowned and closed his eyes, shifting a lot as he tried to get comfortable back in the bed. Your grin fell slightly and you brought your hand back to his hair. 
“Sleep it off, habibi.”
“What are you going to do?” 
“Watch FRIENDS.” You said with a shrug. 
“I was supposed to watch it.”
“Not my fault.” You sassed back. “I’ll rewatch it with you again later. You just work on fixing your stomach and I’ll read through race strategies and debrief you later in case you can race.” You paused and took a sip of your coffee. “I also need to convince Lando to come to dinner.”
“Why?”
“Since you and I haven’t had dinner and I was supposed to be with Oscar for lunch but I’m here with you.” You explained. "He's wanting dinner plans."
“He saw you all of yesterday and this morning.” 
Carlos' complaints made you smile. “We’ll go out us four. You two can bond again.”
He only huffed. “When have we ever bonded?”
“When you got over yourself and asked him for antinal because you wouldn’t stop shitting?”
Carlos’ response was to reach his hand up and flick you on the nose. 
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