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#the tone of voice is constantly changing between readers
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To My Dearest One (Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader)
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Premise: Leon comes home after a mission.
Sad Vibes/Slight Comfort, Song fic
Word count: 1072
Content warning: Not beta read or really edited if I'm honest. Vague Infinite Darkness and RE6 spoilers. Leon and his whole deal, especially post-RE4 stuff. Depression. Isolation. Implied suicidal thoughts. Reader is sort of a living emotional crutch for Leon. Also reader is not quite all right. I can't write domestic fluff for the life of me. Look, the grammar is going to be a mess, I constantly switch between using APA, AP, and MLA on a regular basis for professional stuff. My brain is gonna zone out here.
Song fic time and first time writing Leon. Came up with the idea while I was studying for my interrogation test for history and I had a concert where this song was performed playing in the background. Finished writing this in between studying for my psych exam in a couple days. Hope you enjoy (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)
Song: Itoshiki Hito E (To My Dearest One) by Kotobuki Reiji (CV: Morikubo Showtaro), Translation by Utapri No Sekai (slight variation by me)
The apartment is quiet besides the sounds of light music and cooking as he enters. Despite living there for a few years, it lacks much character causing it to feel hollow. One of the only things proving that it was Leon's apartment was the sun damaged photos, yellowed with time.
One of them from years ago as he visited Sherry on her birthday. The smile on the girl's face. Claire.
It all felt so distant.
Everything grew out of reach. Nothing seemed to last for a broken man, especially for one who had the bright sparkle in his eyes beaten out so violently.
As he approaches the kitchen, the smell of onion and herbs wafting through the air, Leon notices the nostalgic yellow tinted light that colors the white walls.
At the stove-top was a familiar figure standing before a pot of soup.
You.
A heart made of glass is always... hurting anything that tries to touch it. Yet you embrace it so tight without fear.
His arms wrap around your waist as his head sits upon yours in this rehearsed dance. He smells your shampoo as he takes a deep breath.
"Welcome back, Leon.” You say in a light tone as if he wasn't gone for a little over a week. "I'm making tortellini soup tonight."
He can hear how much you missed him. Even if you don't say it, those feelings tinge your voice.
"Mmm," he sighs with closed eyes, "That sounds good. Haven't had that in awhile."
Leon’s hold on you is strong. He wants to savor the moment.
There’s an itch in the back of his mind; one that would never leave. That this relationship would only hurt you. That he was taking advantage of your kindness. That he could never express just how much he loved the sense of normalcy you brought.
As if sensing his emotions, you quietly grab his left hand with a softness Leon wasn’t used to feeling.
Your hands were light compared to his calloused hands, which were covered in blood. Regrets marred his digits.
The plush feeling of your lips is unfamiliar to his inner wrist. This intimate touch caused Leon to melt.
A simple touch, a simple act, a simple situation in your eyes but it doesn’t feel so simple to him.
A clink as the spoon is set down. You turn around to face him.
But such happiness is sometimes, through cruelty of God, suddenly in front of my eyes… disappears and it makes me so scared.
The look in your eyes, how greatly it contrasted the steely eyes he would see everyday. Fresh eyes that didn’t twist with fear, changed. Not hardened by painful experiences. The look in your eyes is different.
Tired but understanding.
It is something that Leon was grateful for. A calm in a life that he felt so little choice or support in. A happiness from not feeling alone.
A deep hunger satiated but it caused a fear to rise.
What if you saw what he faces everyday? What if you got hurt even more than before? What if… you left?
They kept scratching at the back of his mind.
I live only for your sake. This voice will take an oath, to my dearest one.
Night carried on. Dinner came and went. No discussion of his work.
The ticking of the clock counting down the seconds before the feeling of the mattress would soon greet the two of you. The nighttime routine felt so unfamiliar. He was a stranger to this domestic moment.
“Apparently Sara,” your coworker, Leon had to remind himself as you spoke, “had decided to drag me out while you were gone. Saying that I was being too focused on work again.”
You roll your eyes in a familiar manner as you wipe the skin of your face with a cloth. There’s a soft, tired look, one that is aware of reality.
“Right.” Leon responds. “I already know you were hunched over your desk, typing away at a proposal looking like Gollum." He chuckles as he remembers the first time he saw you at work.
“Hey.” You pout cutely in response, before sitting on the bathroom counter and sighing. “Let me see your face.”
You put out your hand expectantly and he obliges as he puts his chin in your hand. Reaching with your other to grab his cloth and wetting it with water, you smile sweetly with the look that Leon loved.
A careful caress with the cloth as you clean his face. Your thumb traces over faint scars, reminders of the memories he can never escape. There’s a tightening in his heart at this touch.
As you finish and wring out the cloth, you turn back to face him still sitting on the counter. The softness of your hand shifts to cradle the side of his face.
In response, he lifts your chin with his fingers and gives that charming smile of his. “I have the world in my hands.”
“Not sure about that.” You reply softly. “Pretty sure I got it in mine.”
As you get into bed, due to a learned habit after living with Leon for four months, get into the side of the bed away from the door. He lies across from you and lets out a heavy sigh, as he feels exhaustion wash over him.
His hand finds its way to your waist as the light turns off. Leon’s face burrows itself in the crook of your neck, like something was commanding him to get as close as possible to you. To find the core to the warmth. The rhythm of your breath, a lullaby, gently sends him to sleep as his fingers curl atop your skin slightly.
Even at that moment, the scratching turned into digging.
Your eyes heavy and on the verge of the precipice, a whisper drifts from Leon’s lips as he is asleep.
“My only… Make me happy when…”
Will it be sent to you? Will it be conveyed? Words will never be enough… for this feeling of mine, to my dearest one.
By the time the rays of the sun bounce off your gentle skin, Leon is awake and doesn’t move as he watches you sleep peacefully. A smile creeps onto his face as he notices a line of drool.
In that moment, the man, who long lost his faith and wishes, says a silent prayer.
AN: Like what you read? Consider reblogging or leaving a comment. Thanks for reading.
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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5 times * mv1
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there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there's the time that he finally let you know
pairings: max verstappen x horner's niece!reader
warnings: i... don't know?
notes: yes, i'm making a comeback because i've gotten back into the mood of writing (i'm single) and because f1 has got me screaming, crying and throwing up. also, this took me 3 days to write, and i have grown attached. lmk if you guys want the counterpart (basically the same concept, but it's from your eyes???)
one.
"fucking," max cuts himself off, grabbing the closest thing to him. lucky for him, and his team, it's just his racing gloves, "bitch!"
it's just so infuriating to be so close to that podium. he crashed with 5 laps left of the race. his left rear decided to fail him stupidly near the end, after he'd poured his heart and soul to get on that podium. but here he is, moping in his driver's room.
after constantly being in the scrutiny of the public, especially with the way he handled losing, he'd resided here immediately. there's a bubbling anger rising up from him. he's so infuriated.
until a soft knock lands on his door. snapping him out of his thoughts, he knew what he wanted this time. "please leave me alone."
"okay. but christian just wants to know if you're alright." your voice sounds small. he could barely hear you with the door in the way.
he takes a deep breath, then walks over to the door. it reveals you with a hesitant smile on your face.
but he's always had a soft spot for you. all of the anger he'd been feeling merely 5 seconds ago dissipated. "oh. you're not in my room at the circuit often."
"i know. i'm sorry to intrude." you look down at the ground, your often confident self absolutely nowhere to be seen. "christian sent me to check in on you. i'll leave you alone, but i can't go back without an answer."
for starters, you're not a stranger to the signature max verstappen temper. but never has he directed it at you once. it's surely raised the eyebrows of christian horner the first time it happened when you joined the team.
one second he was all over the garage, only rude words coming out of his mouth. the next, he was silently raging as he sat on the tire of his car while you discussed dinner plans with your uncle.
"please, don't worry about it." he takes a step back, gesturing for you to enter the room. you do just that, although a bit hesitant. and he doesn't blame you for that. "come in."
there's a moment of silence between you two. for a moment, the engines from the cars outside start to die down, and the frequency of the fireworks is slowing down, and there are more footsteps in the gravel that surround the trailer.
"i'm okay." he leans on the massage table in the middle of the room. he still hasn't changed out of his race suit. his helmet, balaclava and gloves are all thrown in different directions of the room. they had all been victims of his uncontrollable rage.
it's apparent that he's not even close to being okay. he just has to bank on the fact that you don't probe with more questions.
"it's okay if you're not," you answer in a gentle tone. a soft audible sigh passes your lips as you sit on the couch in the opposite side of the small room. "it's just you and me. i'm not part of your racing team."
his eyes do the speaking again. the heaving of his chest is enough to tell you that he's actually contemplating it. without another moment's hesitation, he starts to go at it. all of the emotions he's been feeling lately, the frustration from just being 5 laps shy of being on that podium.
he's just ranting, throwing his hands in the air while he paces all over the room. he makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to you after this - you're just sitting there patiently, nodding your head empathetically while he talks.
it’s as if you knew and understood all that he’s talking about.
"it's just unfair! i did everything right this time!" he exclaims, hands clenched up into a fist. "i should have been up there! i deserved to be on that podium!"
there's one more thing that bothers him. you. whatever he feels for you. the way his heart races whenever you're around, or the way he's always thinking of the way you fix his hair for marketing promotion material - he can't get you out of his mind. for years, now.
he'd met you when he was 18, fresh into red bull racing as christian's new prodigy. he had only seen you a total of 15 times within the span of 3 and a half years. the transition from crumbs of your presence to full-out spending the whole racing season with you was more than his heart could handle.
now that he's gotten to know you better, the 22-year-old is almost convinced that he might actually have feelings for you. "and-"
he looks up from the ground, flinching back slightly when you're staring directly into his eyes from across the room. your eyes dart down to his hands and it's only then he notices how his hands are clenched into fists next to him.
he almost slipped up about his feelings for you. good thing he caught himself at the last second. his chest heaves as he looks at you, shoulders tensed up and eyebrows furrowed.
you raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding. you make a gesture with your hand to encourage him to continue saying whatever is on his mind. "and?"
"and," i have feelings for you, "it's just so unfair."
he feels his body melt at your stare. his shoulders slump, his breathing starts to regulate and his hands slowly unravel from a fist. it's just so unfair that he's so hopelessly smitten with his principal's niece.
"i know." you push yourself off the couch and walk over to him. stopping just a few steps from him, he looks at you sigh. "i'm sorry that it happened to you, max."
then a small grin slowly stretches his lips. the race is over - there is absolutely nothing he can do to change the result. he shrugs, "it's just racing."
"you can still feel angry about it," you grin, "it's just me."
max shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "i know. it's okay; i'm okay."
you drop your head slightly. max knows you don't buy his lie. of course, he's still angry about what happened. but there is still some truth to what he said - he got unlucky today with the car.
you take a deep breath. he's caught completely by surprise when your arms spread out, taking a step forward and engulfing him in the warmest hug.
he catches a whiff of all your scents - your shampoo, your perfume, and creepily enough, the soap you use for your clothes. and he completely basks in your embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around your smaller frame. his neck rests on your shoulder, silently straining his back just to take you in.
"i know you're not," you whisper. you lean your head into his as you rub circles on his clothed back. "i'm here for you, okay?"
and he wants to say it to you. he gets an inkling, after you just spent the better part of 20 minutes letting him scream about his feelings, that this is bigger than himself.
"i," he trails off, arms tightening around you. he closes his eyes, repeatedly reminding himself that he's not willing to risk it. he releases the breath he's been holding. "thank you."
two.
max can barely keep himself upright in the seat. he's clutching onto his balaclava, eyes following the light shone into his eyes as per the doctor's request.
he had a bad crash with lewis during the race that sent him flying into the walls. he blacked out for a couple of seconds, and he's been in pain since they escorted him to the medical centre.
there's a soft knock on the door, before he hears the creak followed by footsteps. "i'll be back with results, okay?" the doctor straightens up before walking away from him. he acknowledges the presence of someone new, then proceeded to walk out of the room.
the relief max immediately felt when he sees you standing shyly by the door, hands clasped together.
"are you okay?" you ask softly, slowly making your way over to him. "i came as soon as i heard what happened to you. that was horrible, what happened to you."
he tilts his head at you, ignoring the strain in his neck and the pounding in his head. "as soon as you heard?"
you chuckle, glancing down at the floor in what could only be described as embarrassment. "i was in the bathroom taking a piss when geri ran in yelling for me," you admit.
your eyes roam his body, your eyes matching the empathetic stares of everyone he has looked at since he was helped out of that stupid car. he hates it. he hates being on the receiving end of those stares, but it was strangely comforting coming from you.
"are you alright? do you have any more injuries?" you ask. you look at him, hands hovering above his hand that rests on his knee. max gives you a small nod of consent.
"it's just a concussion, from what i can feel," max admits. though, it hurts everywhere. when you crash into a wall at that speed and black out, it's definitely going to hurt everywhere that it can.
he's watching you intently. you're lifting his sleeves to scan for bruises and moving about the neckline of his race suit to look for any injuries. there's a tingling sensation that you leave behind as your fingers graze over his now exposed skin.
"i'm okay."
"i don't buy that at all," you scoff. you reach over for the empty plastic chair and pull it to his side. you take a seat. "i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried something bad had happened."
he smiles. the way you care for him never fails to make his stomach churn and his heart start to race. "it could've been worse. i'm glad it's just a concussion i've got."
you turn your head to look at him. god, he wishes he can just take you in for an embrace and reassure you that he's perfectly fine. because he is. it's just some body aches - nothing he hasn't had to go through before as an athlete.
"i'm sorry about the race." you take his towel into your hands and fold it up. you gently tap on his face, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face. "let me know if you need anything, okay? water, ice... food..."
"i will handle," he grins, his gaze following your hands' movements. "thank you, though."
you don't say anything. you just smile at him as you put the towel back down on his knee. you rest your hand just above the damp material and tilt your head at him. "how do you feel, though?"
"g-"
"about the points," you cut him off. "it's a close fight for the driver's championship. how do you feel about that?"
he shrugs, pouting his lips out. you widen your eyes at him as you anticipate the next thing coming from his mouth. "it's just racing. i'll come back next weekend."
you roll your eyes and lean back into the chair. both of your eyes are on the tv, watching the broadcast of the race together. "i believe in you. there's still a long season ahead of you."
he moves his eyes to look at you. not his head fully - he doesn't need you catching him stare at you. your unconditional support for him just made him want to jump for joy.
thought, sometimes he does wonder if you're only doing it because you work for the team. but other times you're just so believable that he thinks it's him as a person you're rooting for.
and god, he wants it to him so bad.
"it feels like forever - this pain," he admits. without thinking, his hand instinctively reaches forward. he puts his hand above yours. he squeezes your hand.
he sees you shake your head. you manoeuvre your hand. now your palms are touching. he could have sworn it was the concussion making him see and feel things when you intertwine your fingers.
if he were to be honest with you, he feels like this could the lowest point of the season for him. that rear failure earlier on felt minuscule compared to this crash. deep down inside, there's a fear that there's no coming back from this.
you squeeze his hand, slightly tighter than he had done to you just a few seconds prior. "i wish i could make it better. i'm sorry, max."
your voice wavers as you speak to him. and it kills him that you’re so worried for him. he does have a healthy support system, as much as the public wants to make it out that he’s too cold for that.
max wants to reassure you, just as you'd done with him. but he doesn't even know how to do that. your presence now, while he's still slightly out of it from the crash, is enough to put him at ease.
he sighs, squeezing your hand once more. it's at the tip of his tongue. if he could just convince himself to say it to you.
yet, he settles with, "you're the best."
three.
max leans back into the wall, arms folded over his chest. the strobing lights, the music bouncing off the walls, and a plethora of bodies surround him.
next to him, sebastian is deep in conversation with daniel. a conversation that he had tuned out of a few minutes ago. when he found you on the dance floor, terrorising alex and lily with your dance moves.
if you asked him, he would've told you that you're a natural at many things. dancing, unfortunately, is not one of them.
his silent pining comes to a halt when he meets lily's gaze from across the room. a knowing smile on the girl's face, he feels his cheeks heat up when she drags alex down to whisper something in his ear while pointing at max accusingly. alex turns his head in max's direction and his body shakes with a laugh.
great. they've caught on.
alex nods and raises his eyebrows at max teasingly. alex glances at you, shocked to find out that you've managed to shimmy your way 5 metres down the dance floor to now terrorise george and carmen.
max smiles to him, watching alex bend over backwards to get your attention. it's proven a challenge when you sandwich yourself between them.
when alex manages to finally get your attention, you just smile at him. you hand him the empty glass in your hand and grab carmen's hands. it's a wonderful sight - alex struggling to get your attention. but when he did, max swears his heart skips a beat.
because you lean into alex, listening to what he says into your ear. alex points in his direction and your face lights up when your eyes meets his.
you stride across the room and push yourself through the crowd. before he knew it, you're staring up at him with a toothy grin and wide eyes.
from the corner of his eyes, he notices sebastian and daniel have stopped their conversation. across the room, lily and carmen have flagged their boyfriends down. all eyes are on the two of you.
"what are you doing here all by yourself? you should be out on the dance floor celebrating!" you shout over the music, tiptoeing slightly to meet max's height. "you just won a race!"
"i'm good here, thanks!" max laughs, moreso at your state. your cheeks are puffed up and your lips are swollen. even your voice sounds damaged from all the screaming you've done. "enjoy your evening, please! don't worry about me!"
you shake your head in urgency. "no! you have to celebrate!"
he continues to look down at you, genuinely considering if he should let your persuasion tactics work on him tonight. who is he kidding; he can never say no to you.
"okay, but i'm driving us back to the hotel. so no drinks for me." before he could finish his sentence, you've managed to yank him off the wall. your hand has a firm grip around his wrist as you guide him through the crowd towards the bar counter.
"we'll get a cab!" you stop right at the bar and turn around to look at him. "you won the race today! aren't you excited? are you not at least a little bit prideful that you're leading the driver's championship again?"
max supposes you have a point. he should be excited. here he is in his 6th year in formula 1, being so close to clinching the world champion title for the first time in his life. it's just one night, right?
he can't possibly let you be more excited for his achievements than himself. that's just not right. did he not believe in himself?
he watches you prop yourself up on the bar stool, carefully telling the bartender your order. max's hands hover over your body, just in case you'd fall.
once again, you have managed to make his heart race by putting so much emphasis on his achievements. he's made his way onto the podium several times now that it seems almost mundane for him to end up there.
he wants the next big thing; he wants the world championship title. but why exactly is he waiting a whole few months just to celebrate again?
"come on, max! let loose a little. you don't have to wait for the season to be over to celebrate," you answer genuinely. for a moment there, max almost thinks you're sober. "if you don't want to celebrate your small wins, at least let me do it for you?"
he huffs. you're a lot more convincing when you pretend to be sober, after having downed a couple glasses of cocktails.
you tilt the unscrewed bottle of beer towards him, a freshly mixed glass of cocktail in your other. "congrats on winning the race today, max. i'm so proud of you."
max takes the bottle out of your hands. he willingly taps the neck of the bottle onto the rim of your glass. "cheers," he grins, watching you excitedly sipping away on your mojito.
if he could guess, you’re 6 glasses in. you’re definitely going to regret it in the morning.
you swiftly intertwine your fingers with his and start to pull him towards the dance floor. "let's go celebrate!"
you stop abruptly, your cocktail almost spilling all over your dress as he plants his feet into the ground. you squeeze his hand and look up at him shyly with your chests almost touching. even in the sea of people in the club, you managed to make it feel so intimate.
just you and him.
can he really excuse the words threatening to slip out of his mouth with half the bottle of beer in his system? can he just say it without you remembering it the next day?
but you beat him to saying something. "i'm so proud of you, max."
he smiles, letting a small breath out. he squeezes your hand. "thank you. you're the best."
four.
it's upsetting, really, not having you in the paddock all weekend. what you'd thought to be a simple itchy throat from all the sweets you've consumed had turned into a covid scare. you're isolated in the hotel, albeit having tested negative, already better.
the team couldn't risk getting either driver contracting a sickness. especially not max, a clear contender for the title this year.
max has not seen you since tuesday. the photos of him on the red bull racing social media platforms are just not as good when it's not you taking them. nobody else on the marketing team ever tells him his hair is a mess. neither do you - you always just reach in to fix his hair for him.
max huffs, adjusting his shirt as he stood in front of your hotel room. the small bouquet of flowers suffocate in the grip of his hands. a plastic hangs on his fingers.
the lock clicks. the door is slowly pulled open. there you are, in all your glory. your hair is up in a ponytail, you're in your pyjamas with juice in your hand. your eyes widen. "max! what are you doing here?"
with flowers in his hands, there's really only so many excuses he can make up. he tilts his head and his eyes narrow down. he's searching his brain for an excuse - something that doesn't scream the fact that he is hopelessly in love with you. "um..."
he stays in the hallway of the hotel, and you stay inside with your hand still on the door handle.
when he had gotten off the race track, alex had celebrated with him. at some point, max expected someone to bring it up. it just shocked him that it had taken this long.
alex gave him a firm pat on the back as they strolled the paddock after media commitments. and the question finally came up. "so are you ever going to ask (y/n) out?"
the question should not have even shocked him in the first place. he had been sitting around waiting for someone to ask him this. nevertheless, he was still dumbfounded by the question.
he started explaining - how he can never get around to asking you out. you're christian's beloved niece. first of the next generation. christian even introduced you as the daughter he had to raise before he ever thought about having kids of his own.
and alex gave him the weirdest stare. because everyone on the paddock could easily tell max had feelings for you. he didn't do much to hide it either. it'd apparently been so bad that even toto wolff sneaks around the paddock with questions if there's been progress.
and so, here he is, standing in front of your hotel room after having won his home race. when he managed to escape his pr manager, he took a shower and immediately bought flowers, some food and came straight to you.
he missed you all week.
"max?"
his answer comes out in a ramble. if you hadn't spent so much time with him, you probably wouldn't have understood. but in your week of absence, the driver doted on you with video messages, voice messages and pictures. endless updates with the grid, the drama, the placements.
anything to make it feel like you were still there with him.
"can i take you out on a date?"
his heart races. beads of sweat form on his forehead. the hallway, that had once felt so icy suddenly became so warm.
"what?" your jaw drops, eyebrows are raised in shock. the silence is deafening.
is this some kind of sick prank alex is pulling on him?
immediately, max goes into defensive mode. "i mean, it's okay if you don't! i just thought if i don't shoot my shot now, then i'll never know. i won't take it personally!" he lifts up the plastic filled with tupperwares of food. "i even brought you supper!"
you scoff with a laugh bubbling up from your stomach. you leap up from your spot, throwing yourself onto max. you lift your feet off the ground. his available arm wraps around your waist to stabilise you. his other arm, already busy with gifts for you, darts out to hold the door ajar.
and what does this mean, exactly? max verstappen has never been one to take these things for an answer. he needs is in black and white - in the clearest of clarifications.
"yes, of course!" you squeal into his shoulder. okay, now he can celebrate. it had taken you a solid 10 seconds in a tight embrace before you decided that the hotel's hallways were too exposing for your liking.
finally, he lets you guide him into the hotel room. he can't stop the wide grin forming on his face either. by the looks of it, neither can you.
"right. these are for you," max finally says, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you. "and i'm sorry i'm late. i could have gotten here earlier if it weren't for alex and lando fighting me over what flowers to get you."
your eyebrow raises, willingly receiving the flowers. "you were in cahoots with those two?"
"and george," max shrugs simply, scrunching up his nose. "but he was easier to deal with than those two."
you smile, if it's possible to get even bigger than what's already there, as your fingers lightly graze over the petals of the flowers. max simply stands back while he watches you admire the brightly coloured bouquet.
he's confident about one thing that night: what kind of flowers to get you. so when lando and alex were fighting him over which flowers to get you, they were simply debating over the roses.
but he is in the netherlands. what else could have been the right choice of flowers but the tulips? and he's in an expensive sport, after all. it would be so uncharacteristic of him to undermine the way he felt for you.
long story short, he got the most gigantic bouquet filled with striped tulips. he spent 150 euros. that's not even near the amount he knows he feels for you.
if you asked him for the world, he'd simply exhaust every single resource he has to give it to you.
"thank you so much," you coo, finally looking up at him. you lean in, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. and he will absolutely spend the rest of his night thinking of this exact moment.
this is quite possibly the furthest he's gone with you. and he almost slips up again. he should've just said it, but he's just not quite sure he should. it's just going to scare you off.
"oh! and, congrats on the race win today," you cheer before pressing your lips against his cheek again.
max grins. he doesn’t know why he put it past you. you’ve made it clear you’re going to be his biggest fan. “oh, you watched the race?”
you’re gently laying the bouquet on top of the table in the corner of your room. “of course. it was a brilliant race. i'm so proud of you."
he just squeezes your shoulder. "thank you. you're the best."
five.
in his dark hotel room, the tv illuminates your face as your eyes lock on the movie you've chosen. it's the only way max can see your face. he'd love to be able to pay attention to this movie, but how could be when you're all tangled up with him.
"are you scared?" you suddenly mutter. your first words in almost 20 minutes, almost making him question if you're making conversation because you're falling asleep.
"what?" he's genuinely dumbfounded with the question. he glances at the tv, curious if he had dozed off long enough for you to choose another movie. but no. it's still mamma mia playing. "we're watching a musical."
max watches your body heave up, then down. "for tomorrow."
he tenses up. he's been trying his hardest not to think about it at all, actually. since he'd finished up his evening with media commitments, he just went straight to you in the garage office. he packed his bags and took you out to dinner.
he's secured pole position for tomorrow. he didn't want to think of anything else right now.
he doesn't want that stress passed on to you.
max hums, suddenly feeling an interest in the musical. it's meryl streep singing abba, after all. how can he not be any more interested? he shrugs. "okay, i guess."
he avoids your eyes. all eyes and remaining attention of the evening is on the actress belting out a song. and it's rudely interrupted when you pause it.
you stumble around, propping yourself up to your elbow to give him a stern look. "okay?" sometimes max forgets you're now his girlfriend. he forgets that he doesn't have to put up a front to shield you from his real emotions. "what do you mean 'okay'?"
he sighs. he turns his head back to face you, almost flinching at the glare you're giving him. he clears his throat as he pushes himself up against the arm of the couch. he sits cross-legged and you mirror his posture. he shrugs again. "i can't overthink it now. i just have to do my best tomorrow."
you throw your hands up in the air, scoffing. "what?"
max is at a loss for words. what response, exactly, did you expect out of him? "what?" he says back, hands also thrown up into the air. from the amount of time you've spent around him on the race track, he expected you to know his mindset when stepping into a race.
he can't overthink it before he even gets on the track. in fact, there is no room for that at all.
you resign to the other end of the couch and fold your arms over your chest. you even pull your feet back, not wanting to be in the range of his touch.
"(y/n), i don't know what you want me to say, darling," max responds gently. he's slightly annoyed, yes, but he doesn't want that to triumph your relationship. "you know the clear mind i need to get into a race. if i overthink, that's when it's over for me."
you roll your eyes. "no. it's just you and me. there is absolutely no way you have no opinions about the race tomorrow. not even a single thought? seriously, max?" you tear your eyes from him. "i'm not christian."
max sighs. he scooches over to you on the over end of the couch. though you squeeze yourself further into the armrest away from him.
he huffs, wrapping his arms around you. he pulls you in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "of course, i have a thought in my head about the race. but if i let it get to me, darling, it can cost me the championship."
you hum, but there's a hint of annoyance. though, you give in. because you drop your head back on his shoulder and pout. "okay, fine. race your heart out, max. i just know you've got this."
he gives you a slight squeeze. a weaker one compared to others. honestly? he's terrified of screwing up tomorrow. he just wants that title so bad. all his life, he's worked for it.
he's simply afraid to let christian down. more importantly, he's afraid to let you down. though his handful of mental breaks about being so close to the final race of the season, you'd reassure him that you'll always be proud of him no matter what.
it's just not enough for him.
the movie starts to play again. you coddle up into his lap and he rests his cheeks on your head. i love you.
thank you, you're the best.
max has not been able to get the ringing out of his head since he crossed the checkered flag. he has not been able to think straight since then.
he just won his first world championship title. he's on his knees, his head resting on the tire. all 58 laps, all he could think of is how is he going to win? how will the season play out?
he finally lifts his head, dropping himself back to sit on the track of the abu dhabi track. he groans loudly, almost into a scream, as he unclips his helmet. he yanks it off his head, then his balaclava almost immediately.
he is feeling so many things.
then across the barrier, he sees you. eyes filled with tears, hair pulled back into a ponytail, in your very own red bull racing uniform. his stare down with you doesn't last long. christian is quick to yank you away.
and he spends the next 5 minutes scanning the crowd for you. sure, he wants to celebrate with the people that made it possible for him to even be there in the first place. but there is you.
"max!" your voice makes him whirl around. a sigh of relief slumps his shoulder. it's you.
his face lights up at the sight of you. just a minute ago, he felt so drained. he barely found it in himself to walk to his team for cheers. yet here he is jogging towards you.
"world champion, max verstappen!" you scream. you leap off the ground, legs quickly wrapping around his waist.
his arms wrap around your torso, just holding you close to his body. "i'm so proud of you," you cry into his already wet neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i fucking told you."
he doesn't even know what to think. his mind is in a jumble of thoughts. it's undeniable that you had pushed him to his best this season. just having you there, reassuring him every single weekend. even when he crashed, even when he'd retired out of a race.
your legs slowly drop back down to the ground, and he finally gets a good look at your face. for some reason, you're just as sweaty as he is. the ponytail on your head is falling apart and the makeup running down your face almost makes him laugh.
then the excitement obviously hits you again. because you give him a firm and strong pat on his shoulder. "you proved them all wrong, max! you're a world champion!"
his chin is held high and his chest is puffed out. you'd never doubted him. it almost brings him to his knees how much support you had for him.
max is so full of emotion. the race, the title; you. you jump in your spot and clap, nose scrunching up in delight. "i told you this was your season! i knew it all along!"
and he just blurts it out. "(y/n), i love you."
you don't even hesitate. it's like you'd been waiting around to say it too. "i'm so fucking proud of you. i love you."
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moonalumi · 7 days
Text
arguing with ellie n it goes too far
idk if this has been done but um be ready y’all i’m bouta cry
warnings- guys this is kinda sad um, angst, arguing, crying ig, ellie being easily agitated n mean, mentions of death, reader comfort el at the end guys trust!!
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“el what’s wrong?” you ask as sweetly as you can. worried about how your girlfriend has been ignoring you and other people all week. she’s just been in her own little world writing and drawing the days away. every now and then you heard little sniffles coming from her direction but choose to ignore it; thinking she’ll come to you when she’s ready to talk but it’s only been getting worse day by day.
she ignored your question again. flinching at your touch and cursing herself in her head for that.
“ellie please talk to me, i made you some food” you comfort once again, reaching out to brush out some tangles in her hair with your fingers.
“i don’t want it.” ellie mumbles out coldy. not even taking her attention away from her drawing.
“okay well i’ll leave it here in case you change your mind okay?” you kiss ellie’s head and unintentionally glance at her sketchbook. somehow she notices and slams it shut. pushing you away from her as well.
“cant you just leave me alone for two seconds?” ellie snaps. her tone of voice taking you by surprise.
“el— i’m sorry i didn’t look—“ you fumble your words. not knowing whether to look at the closed sketchbook or your angry girlfriend.
“i don’t care stop hovering over me constantly, i’m fine stop worrying.” ellie stands up to walk past you but not before you stop her.
“how am i supposed to know you’re fine? you certainly don’t seem fine when you haven’t even had a conversation with me in days!” ellie turns to look at you and you swear her eye contact with you could kill, you forget how mean she can look without trying to.
“drop it i don’t wanna argue with you” she trys walking away again but you grab her wrist.
“please talk to me, what’s wrong??” you beg, and lift your hand to push strands of her hair away from her face.
although ellie pushes your hand away, not roughly though, her touch is still soft unlike her words, “don’t fucking touch me just leave me alone i don’t want to be anywhere around you, just go.”
it hasn’t been the first time ellie had snapped at you like this and said awful things she didn’t mean. for some reason it’s in her nature to just lock away her feelings and attack anyone who tries to push their way in. unfortunately today you seem to be her victim. and after a year of being in love with her, you know her very well by now.
“you really want me to go ellie? cause i’ll go but who’s gonna be taking care of you like i am right now?” you raise your voice at her while picking up things of yours from around her room.
ellie just watches as you pick up your items. sitting there with a lil pout on her lips not saying a word as you stuff more stuff in a bag. but before you can even touch the doorknob to leave she stands up, “wait..” she whispers, if you listened carefully enough you would’ve heard her voice cracking.
“what is it?” you ask rather harshly. opening the door and stepping outside.
ellie panics, her eyes widening and her legs unintentionally making their way towards you in a rush, “wait don’t go” she whimpers.
only then do you turn to see ellie’s eyes filled with tears and her panicked expression. her tough angry demeanor changing in a matter of seconds. n that pout on her lips turned into quivering lips.
your own eyes soften at the sight. you can’t help but feel the pain and guilt for making her cry but you knew she needed a wake up call. you needed to let her know you won’t stand there and just take her hits.
“oh el i’m so sorry” you bring her in for a hug. letting her burry her face in your neck and squeeze you into her hold.
“n-no i’m so sorry i—shouldn’t have been so mean to you. don’t leave me” ellie hiccups and sniffles between her crys. getting your neck all wet with her tears and snot but you don’t mind.
“i’m not leaving you baby i just needed to teach you a little lesson i’m so sorry” you leave kisses all over her hair and scratch her back as she calms herself down.
lifting her head up, you kiss her cheek that’s all flushed and puffy n lead her back to bed. cuddling her and forcing her be little spoon.
a comfortable silence over takes you too as you just lay together, “you wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” you whisper breaking the silence.
you feel ellie take a deep breath and intertwine your hands together, “it’s— around the time of joel’s death date, i think that’s why i’m being like this.”
“i’m so sorry ellie” you try and comfort but you know there’s not much you can say or do to make her feel better about it other than being here with her like this.
“can you scratch my back? it felt good earlier,” ellie smiles at you as she asks the question.
“of course, c’mere” you sit up and let ellie lay onto of you as you lift her shirt up to scratch her back until she falls asleep <33
free palestine !!
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qingxin-dream · 6 months
Note
Scara relaxing on the couch with you<3 if u do NSFW having him cockwarm you so he can relax
“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐈𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬”
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summary | today was one of those days where nothing could go right. well, maybe, it’s been like that for awhile. and you know damn well that your loving husband was not about to watch you fall into despair. (art credits: unknown)
warnings | not proofread, reader has a mental breakdown, comfort, profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, cockwarming, edging/teasing, orgasm denial, slightly possessive/dominant, marking, breeding kink, creampie
genre | modern au, comfort, smut
word count | 3k
pairing | husband! scaramouche x reader
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
The sky had been overcast all day, only putting a damper on your mood. Work has somehow become extra stressful lately with more and more responsibilities piling up. You felt the crushing weight on your shoulders with each passing hour and you couldn’t wait for the clock to hit 5pm.
The last place you wanted to be was at work, away from home, and without your husband, Scaramouche. Even then, your relationship was getting to a point where it was nothing more than bitter roommates. He had missions to complete while you were obligated to work every day. Someone had to be the breadwinner, after all.
Sweet freedom washes over your exhausted body when it’s finally time to go home. You rush outside only to find that the clouds had turned a nasty gray color and wet droplets of rain dotted your suit jacket.
Great, you forgot an umbrella.
The rain was really picking up now, your clothes soaked and your hair flattening into drenched clumps. Running through the downpour, you had to make it another block to your car until you got stopped at an intersection—narrowly avoiding the wave of water a speeding car almost splashed onto you.
Once you practically leaped into your car for safety, the sense of stillness that suddenly permeated the air brought you back down to earth. You were more than overworked. You were burned out, with hot tears freely streaming down your face in a choked sob. Gripping the steering wheel, you slumped your forehead onto your knuckles, shoulders shaking as you cried out all the pressure you had bottled up inside. The rain beat against the windshield, drowning out your agony.
Once you managed to compose yourself with a few sad sniffles here and there, you turned the key in the ignition. Tonight you decided to forget about everything. No stress. No work. Not even a single load of laundry. You couldn’t muster the strength for anything other than some sort of self-care or self-indulgence.
When you walked through the door with an expression bordering on despair, Scaramouche knew you had a rough day. He frowned to himself. Frankly, the distance between you two was a sore spot for him as of late and he was expecting you to lock yourself in the bedroom.
At first, he had been stubborn about the tangible separation pushing you further and further away from him. Foolishly, Scaramouche had tried to drown himself in his busy work and missions, simply trying to ignore it. But after a while, he realized that this damned feeling of alienation and being constantly on edge like some old married couple was ridiculous.
That’s not who he married or the life he signed up for, and Scaramouche found himself determined to finally act like you both loved each other for once.
“Hey, babe,” he greeted you from the couch. Looking down at his casual sweatpants and shirt, you wished you could’ve stripped down and lazed around on the couch this afternoon. Sleep was something you desperately needed. He offers a small olive branch with his softened tone of voice. “Why don’t you get changed and come sit with me? I missed you.”
You drew in a hesitant breath. Perhaps it was your way of attempting to decompress before answering your husband or you were unsure of his intentions. The couch was definitely calling to you, and the prospect of your lover’s comforting arms enveloping you was even more tempting. In a haste, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag, nodding with a bit of a pitiful pout on your lips as you went into the bedroom.
Scaramouche perked up slightly upon hearing your return, making room for you on the couch so that he could spoon you just right. As you sat down, his hand immediately went to your hip and he found himself gravitating toward the comforting crevice of your neck. Your skin was colder than he expected from the rain but he was more than willing to share his warmth with you, his fingers venturing up the contour of your waist under your baggy shirt.
“There’s goosebumps on your skin,” he noted with an obvious smile in his voice. “Why don’t you take this off and let me warm you up, hm?”
You gaze at him over your shoulder, catching the subtle seductive intonation of his offer. Despite his pads of his fingers gently caressing and massaging your hip in encouragement, you weren’t entirely sure if you had it in you for too much physical affection. Most of all, you just felt tired.
Yet, Scaramouche always got his way. Maybe it was how the words rolled off his tongue that sparked your imagination in the back of your mind, or that mischievous gleam of excitement in his violet eyes. He had no problem catering to your needs, helping you slowly lift that baggy shirt over your shoulders and tossing it aside. He quickly did the same.
Suddenly, he ensnared you in his arms, burying his nose in your neck and sighing. The feeling of your back pressed against his bare, muscular chest was like a balm soothing his soul. You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, surprised by his enthusiasm, and pull a heavy blanket over you both.
“Better get rid of these too,” Scaramouche suggested softly into the shell of your ear, tugging at the elastic waistband of your shorts. He generously nuzzled your neck, peppering a few kisses across your sensitive skin to distract you as he easily slipped you out of your bottoms.
Your whimpers were buried in your throat. You purposely tried to stifle it, but the little shiver of your neck and body against his ministrations couldn’t hide your true feelings forever. The slow drag of his hand up your plush thighs, over the round of your hip, and dangerously close to your breasts was merely a confirmation of your suspicions.
“Scara… please,” you murmur, sounding more like a faint plea for peace and relaxation. “My feet hurt so much. I don’t think I can move anymore, let alone do—”
“Shhh, love, you really think I’m going to make you do anything?” he asks rhetorically, the timbre of his sweet words deepening to a level bordering on husky. His hand travels back down the curves of your body with silent reverence, hoping to ease your worries. “I don’t think you realize how hard you’ve been working until it breaks you.”
With a click of his tongue, your husband continues to let his hand journey over every inch of your lovely form. Your breasts, your stomach, your pelvis, hips, thighs… If he was being honest, Scaramouche would never have thought he’d discover someone as perfectly imperfect as you. To not remind you of how much he secretly worships your whole being would be a grave sin in his eyes.
“I feel like I never see you anymore. We never talk anymore,” he mumbles into your shoulder blade, taking his time to kiss and nibble as much of your upper back as he could. You involuntarily arched your back, the sensation of his mouth along your spine sending pulses of electric desire through you. His voice shifts into a possessive growl. “And I miss my wife.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you weep dryly, rolling your head back to relax on him fully. Your thoughts instantly short-circuited at the revelation of his thick bulge pressing into the plush of your ass, tactically held in place by his fingertips digging into your love handle. You were so ready to just melt into him completely, to give in and let him take care of you.
“Don’t ask for my forgiveness,” he quickly interjected to correct you. You could feel the smirk spreading on his face as he leans into you as much as possible. The back of his hand ghosts your inner thigh, nudging it to the side. “Show me how much you want my mercy.”
You were hanging on every syllable that left his lips in a hushed whisper. A featherlight touch grazed near your outer labia, enough to capture your attention like a moth to a flame. That was all it took for him to push your mind over the edge. It was pathetic, really, how you were desperately trying to mentally fill in the blanks and imagine the pleasure of his slender fingers massaging your needy clit.
Scaramouche knew exactly what he was doing. He loved getting a rise out of you. Admiring the subtle contortion of your features in pleasure may be his favorite pastime. Tickling the insides of your thighs and skirting skillfully around the one place you wanted him most, he scoffed in amusement every time you sighed softly in frustration.
“I thought you were going to be nice,” you groaned impatiently, beginning to lazily roll your hips in rhythm with the intermittent brush of his fingers just shy of your cunt.
“I am,” he snickered into your collarbone, his hot breath pouring down your chest and thrilling your skin. “You can’t lie to me. I know you like when I tease you until you’re begging for me to stuff you to the brim.”
Taking your lower lip between your teeth, you managed to defiantly buck your hips forward and finally feel the tantalizing glide of his index and middle fingers between your slick folds. The sweet victory ripped a lewd moan of your lover’s name from your pretty throat. To say you were utterly addicted to the sound of him parting the lips of your glistening pussy might be an understatement.
“Tsk, tsk, good things come to those who wait. Isn’t that what you humans say?” Scaramouche mocks you lightheartedly, though his fingers don’t leave your clit. Rather, he circles the sensitive nub at a tantalizingly slow pace to earn another cock-twitching moan from your angelic mouth. “I could touch you like this all night… unless you’d rather serve your punishment on my cock instead?”
You were too preoccupied with the intoxicating pleasure concentrated on your aching clit, eyelashes resting on your cheeks and jaw slightly agape. Scaramouche chuckled deeply into your ear with satisfaction, returning his lips to your neck but this time with a little more force. His teeth sunk into you, intent on leaving a good bruise.
It would be a clear reminder in the morning of who you belong to.
He sucked a little harder, causing you to yelp in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. His words were muffled against your skin with a gentle scolding. “I asked you a question.”
“C-cock, please,” you nearly choke, starting to grind sloppily onto his hand for some sense of relief. His other arm underneath you tightened, essentially pinning you to the heat radiating from his body from behind.
“Whose cock?” Scaramouche grumbled jealously at your vague plea. He needed to know that you didn’t just want anyone’s cock to fill up your drenched, gummy hole. The intensity of his violet irises demanded an answer, glued to your blissed out and desperate expression. His fingers were hastily stimulating your clit as he intently watched you parse love and lust on the brink of an orgasm.
“Y-your cock! Please! I need it so bad,” you cried out loudly, the threat of tears lingering behind your eyes. He abruptly slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your moans, and then shoved his hot, veiny cock pulsating with desire across your soaking wet entrance.
Scaramouche couldn’t stop the salacious groans under his breath, wanting you to hear all the ways you make him unravel. He was eager to drag the mushroomed, pink tip of his cock over your clit over and over, occasionally teasing your hole with the pressure of his length trying to nestle itself within you. But he never pushed it all in. Instead, he continued to gather your essence on his cock—the mere thought of cumming in your rosy folds like this and fucking it messily drove him wild.
“Don’t tell me… hnnnghh… that this is all you want, (Y/N),” he grunted with honeyed pleasure, grinding at a little faster rhythm. You were already nearing your climax again, whispering prayers and praises under your breath for Scaramouche to plunge into you and fuck you senseless.
His hand was still tightly covering your mouth, so you simply shake your head and moan breathily to ask for more.
“Mm, good girl,” he mumbles intimately, kissing your ear and nuzzling you affectionately again. “I know my baby is tired and needy, so I’ll let you be my little cocksleeve tonight, okay?”
You nod and hum against his hand enthusiastically.
He takes the opportunity to shower you with a few more kisses, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance once more. Your walls were already squeezing eagerly on the small inch of his tip inside you and he didn’t dare delay any longer. Scaramouche grabs you by the hip and buries the entirety of his thick cock in your slick tightness, his eyebrows crinkling at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him like a vice.
“F-fuck!” Scaramouche curses sharply, bottoming out completely in your aroused cunt. “So good. S-so fucking good, yeah…”
“A-ah, yes! Mm…” you sighed raggedly with ecstasy, pure pleasure and relief washing over you. His huge cock was stretching you perfectly, the lips of your pussy sucking him in at every possible chance. Despite your exhaustion, your husband had wound you up so much that you begged for tiniest semblance of a thrust into your sopping hole. “Oh my god, p-please, fuck me.”
Without warning, you decided to selfishly fuck yourself on his throbbing cock, but Scaramouche instantly snatched your throat. He held you tightly against his pecs and craned your neck with a forceful grip so that you were facing the ceiling, your oxygen partially cut off. The submissive position had your spongy walls dilating in excitement.
“No, no, wait,” he chastised you, his voice cracking slightly at the end as he struggled to adjust to your greedy cunt. “N-Need I remind you, love? Good things come to those who wait; and if you’re lucky, I’ll cum in you.”
He couldn’t believe your pussy was still quaking around his girth, releasing your neck as you nodded obediently. Once he pulled you into him tightly with his strong arms around your stomach, Scaramouche nudged your legs closed so that you could completely envelope his cock. It was incredibly hot every time he shifted to get more comfortable and your walls only swallowed him further. His breathing calmed slightly, wanting to relax with you for the rest of the night deep within your cunt.
“I-It feels too good, Scara,” you whined, cuddling into the pillow on the couch and clutching the warm blanket to your chest.
For the love of Celestia, your body was so exhausted from work but at the same time you wished you had the strength to fuck him like crazy. You made a mental note to wake him up tomorrow morning with the feeling of your folds lubricating his hardened cock, sinking completely onto his impressive length when his pretty indigo eyes sleepily opened for the first time. You’d make sure to hush him and keep his sleeping mask on snugly, fucking him to your heart’s content.
But for now, your husband returned to worshipping the expanse of your soft curves, coaxing you to relax despite the occasional twitch of his cock inside you. Scaramouche’s voice was smooth as silk when he whispered into the crook of your neck, “See? That wasn’t so bad now. Why don’t you turn on your show and I’ll keep this pretty pussy of yours company for as long as you need, hm?”
You both melted into each other’s embrace, connected in every way imaginable for the first time in a long time. The sensation of your lover’s cock nestling into your folds slowly nudged your sweet spot, drawing breathy moans out of you. He thrusted slowly but deeply, marveling at the lust clouding your eyes pushing you just a little bit closer to the edge.
Though Scaramouche was enraptured by the heavenly sound of your pussy slurping his cock, the need burning in his core was beginning to overtake him. “Mm, turn around for me, babe.”
He was gentle and attentive to you as he helped you face him, holding you firmly against his chest and quickly ensuring his cock didn’t leave your cunt for too long. As he stuffed you full, his mouth captured yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your hair, keeping your lips planted on his as you lazily swirled your tongue on his own and moaned his name.
“Nnghh, can’t take it anymore,” Scaramouche growled hungrily into your mouth, lifting your leg slightly to support you so he could delve his cock deeper. His tone trailed off in a quiet beg, “Lemme breed you, (Y/N). Please…”
“Mhmm,” you agreed without hesitation, cupping your lover’s cheek and kissing him with growing reckless abandon.
He was unequivocally smitten by your ardent claim to his lips, groaning lewdly into the kiss as he began to fuck your desperately pulsating pussy. His grip on you tightened, focusing solely on ravaging your walls until you were on the verge of screaming his praise.
“Hah, that’s it. Goddamn it, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he takes your lower lip between his teeth roughly, plunging ruthlessly and chasing his impending orgasm. “You can take it, you can take it, yeah… you better fucking cum all over me or else, I swear…”
You reeled him in with a firm tug of his dark purple locks, nearly crying in pleasure onto his tongue intermingling with yours. Moaning and whimpering like a whore, you clutched onto your lover like your life depended on it. “O-Oh my god, Scara, shit, I’m cumming! I’m… mmph, f-fucking c-cumming…!”
Scaramouche pounded his cock into your sopping release, a guttural groan escaping him as he generously coated your spasming walls with loads of his hot seed. He kept himself buried in your cum-laden folds, your erotic juices mixing around the base of his cock while he kissed you softly.
“God… you have no idea how much I missed you.”
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thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.
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rafeism · 2 months
Text
Depraved
Aemond Targaryen x Sister! Reader
WC: 1,827
TW: typical hotd incest, fingering, minor oral sex (f recieving), p in v sex. 18+ MDNI
A/N: Haven’t posted porn about my husband in a while, happy to change that.
The hour was late, the Red Keep now completely quiet. The only sound to be heard was the crackling of the fire and the low timbre of your brother’s voice as he recited various phrases in High Valaryian to you.
You watched him carefully as his finger traced over the page of the book. His long, silver hair and aquiline nose illuminated under the amber light of the fire.
It didn’t take long for him to realize you were staring.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m gazing.”
In annoyance, he shuts the book and draws his attention to you.
“Are you paying any attention to what I’m reading you?”
“Yes, but this is just… so boring,” you mused as you positioned yourself closer to your older brother.
“You were the one who insisted that I teach you, were you not?”
Your brows furrowed as you snorted at him. In all truth, you had no actual interest in being fluent in High Valyrian, or even learning the language at all.
It was not a requirement for you. It didn't matter to your mother and your father was mere moments from withering away to nothing. Your eldest brother lacked even basic proficiency in your mother tongue, and he would one day be king.
As the youngest Targaryen sibling and a girl at that, your role was to sit still and look pretty. To do what you were told without question, and to hold out until you were married off to some lord of a noble house. Another piece in your family’s political game.
Despite its lack of use, High Valyrian gave you an excuse to spend time with Aemond.
Ever dutiful Aemond, he was fluent in the language and thought the rest of you should be as well. You’ll never forget how he beamed with pride the first time you ever asked him to help you understand it better.
“You’re correct, I did ask you to teach me. Perhaps it was an excuse to get you to spend time with me,” you state as you run your index finger along his chest.
“There is no need to feign your interests in order to spend time together, I always make time for you.”
Looking up at him through your lashes, you pout as he rolls his eyes.
“If you can tell me one sentence in High Valaryian, we can retire this for the night.”
At this, you inched closer to him, shifting yourself to crawl into his lap.
“Jaelan ao sīr quba, kostilus ivestragī nyke emagon ao.” I want you so bad, please let me have you.
“I... we have had this conversation,” he began, “we cannot do this, it would be inappropriate.”
His immediate dismissal made you laugh a little. To the outside world, Aemond was hard to read. A stoic with no desire for anything fun, and even less desire to indulge in the pleasure of flesh.
You knew different. You knew how badly he desired you. Just as much, if not more than you desired him. The growing bulge in his pants giving you even more reassurance.
“Inappropriate?” you question innocently as you grind yourself against him.
“Are we not Targaryens?”
You pushed yourself harder onto him.
“Aren’t you the one constantly reminding us to keep up with the traditions of our house?“
“Do not do that,” he warned.
“I’m not doing anything.”
Two large hands gripped you at the waist pulling you off of him, flipping you onto your back. He positioned himself between your legs, pressing his forehead to yours.
“I need you to stop,” he growled through gritted teeth.
“And if I do not?” you challenged him.
“Then you are going to bring out a side of me that I am not sure you’re prepared to see.”
This was not the first time you had tried to seduce him, but this was the closest you had ever come to succeeding. It only made your desire for him burn even hotter.
"What side is that?” You breathed out. Your tone innocent, mocking even.
“The one where the very thin thread I have holding onto my duty to this family snaps. The one where I take what I want and don't stop I’ve ruined you."
His words caused a pool of arousal to form at your core.
You felt his lips ghost over your neck lightly before he tried to pull away, but you quickly caught his face between your palms.
"Don’t you trust me?"
"Yes," he whispered back. He pressed his lips to your neck, kissing and nibbling his way down to your collarbone.
You could feel his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. He took your mouth with his own, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth.
You shivered as his hand slid up your thigh, slipping under your nightgown.
“You’re not wearing small clothes.”
Unsure if it was judgment, or a mere statement you just shook your head.
He slid two fingers over your cunt, making you moan into his mouth. He pulled away from you, a look of hunger in his eye.
“You’re sure this is what you want?"
You had never been so sure of something in your entire life. For as long as you could remember, you craved him. He was the object of all your desires, the star in all of your dizziest daydreams. You wanted him to be yours.
Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head yes.
“Ivestragon ziry.” Say it.
"Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your voice shaking. He pulled away from you, and you watched him undress himself.
His body was perfect. Every muscle defined, every vein prominent. You licked your lips, heat flooding your body. As he approached you once more, you could feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh.
Your eyes begged him to take you as he knelt down to kiss you, pushing you back into the bed.
He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You moaned into him as he slowly ran his hands down your body, cupping your breasts and pinching at your nipples. He broke the kiss and moved down to pull the top of your night dress down, exposing your breasts. He licked his lips and leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You moaned as he suckled on it, flicking the tip with his tongue. He moved over to the other breast and gave it the same treatment, leaving a trail of kisses between them.
He took his time with his assault on your chest, causing you to moan and squirm in pleasure. He moved down further, kissing a trail down your stomach until he reached your cunt. Spreading your legs wider, he ran his tongue up the length of your slit, tasting the sweetness of you.
You moaned louder as he licked and sucked on your clit, making you writhe in pleasure. He slipped a finger inside you, pumping in and out while he continued to lick and suck on your clit. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to orgasm, and then he stopped.
"Ugh,” you groaned, “No! Please, don't stop," you begged; the desperation in your voice was almost humiliating.
"I want to hear you say it," he said, his voice low and husky.
"Aemond — please, make me cum," you pleaded, "I need it so bad." He resumed his ministrations on your clit and finger fucked you harder until finally, your mind went completely blank. Your ears rang, your vision blurred so much you had to squeeze you eyes shut, eventually seeing stars. Your body vibrated until it eventually went numb.
You layed there for a moment, total blackness surrounding you until your brother’s voice brought you back to reality.
"Was that alright?“ he questioned, a smirk plastered on his face as you nodded in approval.
“I believe you are well prepared now," he noted as he used two fingers to gather up the wetness leaking out of you. After giving you some more time to come down from your first orgasm, he crawled on top of you. Slowly dragging his cock between your already swollen folds, swirling the tip in your wetness; almost pushing in, but not quite.
“Aemond!” you moaned, “please, I cannot bare it.”
He met your gaze and entered you slowly, stopping abruptly as he let you adjust to his size.
"Oh.. Gods," you moaned, the stretch was almost unbearable and yet, you craved more. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes! Yes, I'm fine. You can go ahead and move now, please."
He began to rock back and forth into you, pumping his cock in and out of you.
The louder you moaned, the harder he pounded into you. Eventually, the head of his cock pressed against your cervix.
With each thrust the original pain became less and less and it became more clear to you that this is where he belonged; inside of you.
"Please, please don't stop," you begged. He began to pound into you harder and faster, the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass filling the room; you were sure the servants would have something to talk about come daylight but you no longer cared. You felt your second orgasm of the night building inside of you as he continued to fuck you into you.
"Oh, Gods! Aemond, please, I think I'm going to cum again” you all but screamed as your climax ripped through you once more. Your cunt clenched around his cock as the tip prodded against your cervix.
Your slick coated walls contracting around his length was all it took for him to lose control. He let out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside you, filling you with his seed as he bit down on your neck.
“Fuck,” he drawled as the aftermath of his own orgasm coursed through him, his cock still twitching inside of you. After placing a wet kiss on your cheek he positioned himself upright as he pulled himself out.
Instinctly, you clamped your legs shut.
“Uh uh, come on, baby,” he cooed, “let me see.”
He forced your legs a part, watching in awe as his seed seeped out of you.
“Yeah,” he breathed, “that’s good.”
As you had a moment of clarity, shame washed over you, “Aemond!” You giggled, “that is depraved!”
He raised his eyebrows at you in response before slowly shutting your legs and climbing to lay next to you.
“Are we not Targaryens?“ he joked, mocking you.
“Besides, I thought you would like me depraved?“
You gently shifted your position onto your side to meet his gaze.
“I do.”
“And, little sister, if my seed takes, it seems that they will have no other choice but to betroth us, won’t they?”
You giggled at him and feigned surprise at his words, “I think I may like this side of you.”
“Oh, my love. This is just the beginning.”
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ellebakers · 24 days
Text
☆ My love (+18)
Aemond Targaryen x reader (twin sister)
Summary : Being Aemond's twin sister is a good thing, he is gentle with you, always kind and affectionate because you are his twin but also his wife, but with the others, he is cruel and you have more than enough of it.
Warnings : Smut, slight angst, language, incest.
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You would be his wife, that's what your mother Queen Alicent decided when she gave birth to you, three minutes after Aemond. And until today everything was perfect between you, obviously as a child there was only platonic love and joy, over the years this love was transformed into desire especially for Aemond who knew that you were going to be his but who had to watch you become a woman without being able to touch you, suffice to say that your wedding night was not very relaxing..
“To these three strong boys.”
You let out a sigh as you heard your husband's cruel words directed towards your nephews.
In a split second things escalated, Jace hit your husband and Aegon slammed Lucerys onto the table, everyone stood up, screaming and panicking.
Aemond wore a smirk as he turned to you, hoping to see you laugh at the situation, but it was a tired and cold look that you gave him, shaking your head.
You got up from the table and informed your mother "It's time for me to retire mother, have a good night."
Hearing your nonchalant tone of voice, Alicent offered you a sad smile "Of course my dear."
Aemond watched you leave the room, a little disappointed that you didn't appreciate his provocation.
You sighed and walked towards the nursery where one of the maids was sitting, watching your daughter, you smiled tenderly and whispered to the maid "You can go and rest, I'll keep Aenora in our marital bedroom."
The servant bowed "Of course princess, I inform you that Aenora does not want to drink my milk, it is possible that she will ask for it later."
You smiled and nodded, taking the little girl, only three months old, into your arms.
The small Valeryan looked at you, cooing as you stroked her cheek while taking her to your room.
When you arrived, Aemond was sitting on your bed, waiting for you, he raised his head when you entered. “I told myself that my wife had fled the castle.” He tried to joke.
You didn't bother to answer, settling into your reading chair you kept Aenora close to you, rocking her lightly.
“Did I do something to make you angry ?” Aemond asked with a hint of sadness in his voice.
You sighed. “Why do you have to be so cruel to everyone other than me ?”
He sat down next to you "You are my wife, the love of my life, I only need to be nice to you and our daughter."
You shook your head slightly and handed him Aenora. “Take her, I have to change.”
Aemond grabbed the baby and wrapped his arms around her, smiling tenderly at her as you stood up to take off your dress.
"You know what I'm talking about, why did you need to tell our nephews that ?"
Aemond scoffed "Because it's the truth, they're bastards."
You gave him a cold look. “Don’t use that kind of language in front of our daughter.”
He chuckled "She's four months old honey, she can't understand."
Once changed into your nightgown which left nothing to the imagination, you sat down again next to Aemond. “Even if that is true, why do you constantly need to remind this poor childrens of that ?"
Aemond scoffed, his jaw clenched. "Children? They're men, didn't you see the way Jacaerys was looking at your breasts ?"
You frowned a little, not paying attention to the way your nephew was looking at you. “What are you talking about ?”
"My love, you should stop thinking that everyone has good intentions. Jacaerys almost had a hard-on looking at your dress hugging your chest."
You slapped his shoulder, laughing lightly, “Stop.”
Aemond smiled "It's my role as a husband to protect you and if I can humiliate these.." He was about to say an insult but seeing your look he did nothing "Boys.. by the same opportunity, so I do it."
You rolled your eyes and smiled "You're stubborn, are you aware of that ?"
He smiled and kissed your lips “That’s why you love me.”
Aenora started to get agitated and cry, Aemond handed her over to you, understanding that the little girl was probably hungry.
You lowered the strap of your nightgown, letting your left breast come out, and the little girl hastened to put it in her mouth to extract the milk.
After a moment you saw Aemond moving out of the corner of your eye, pulling on his pants that were becoming too tight.
“Don’t tell me that seeing me breastfeed turns you on?”
Aemond couldn't help but moan "Can you blame me ? It's been a week since I've been able to touch you... do you have any idea of ​​the torture you're inflicting on me ?"
You couldn't help but laugh, "You're insatiable." Aemond came closer and nibbled on your neck making you moan slightly, thanks to the gods Aenora had finished drinking and was starting to fall asleep.
You gently placed him in his little bed, and as you turned to face Aemond, he threw himself at you, kissing you furiously.
You stepped back and fell on the bed, your twin took the opportunity to lift your nightgown, he pulled on your thighs, bringing you a little closer to him.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking up at him lustfully, he maintaining eye contact with you as he knelt down and attached his mouth to your pussy.
You gasped and threw your head back, your hand came to his hair instinctively, pushing his head a little closer to your pussy to feel even more pleasure.
“Lords.” You moaned and moved your hips as he continued to devour you, his tongue working magic as you arched up moaning harder each time, and when you felt the orgasm approaching you grabbed a pillow and put it on your move to cover your cry of pleasure so as not to wake Aenora.
Once recovered from your orgasm, you looked up at Aemond and saw him take off his pants, leaving him with his tunic, he grabbed his hard cock let his hand slide over it to harden it a little more, once ready he grabbed a pillow and put it under your pelvis, then, with these firm hands he grabbed your thighs and spread them a little further.
You closed your eyes and gasped as his length entered you slowly and deliciously.
“Still so tight.” He whispered to you, letting out a moan in your ear. “So hot, wet and good… you’re perfect.”
The act was so sensual and romantic, different from what he used to do before your daughter was born.
“Aemond.” You cried with pleasure.
He grabbed your thighs, wrapping them around his hips, he continued his slow and terribly delicious movements, you felt every inch of his length as he moved in and out.
"My love." He moaned, with his fingertips he pulled down the top of your nightgown, exposing your breasts to him, he grabbed the left breast, licking and sucking your nipple, extracting some of your milk while he massaged the other.
Having enough of his slow movements you swapped positions.
He let out a groan of pleasure, you placed your hand over his mouth "Shh, you're going to wake up Aenora." He smiled against your hand and gave you a thrust making you moan.
You started moving on his cock quickly making you moan mutually
"That's my little dragon." He groaned, running a hand over your face, letting his thumb brush over your lips, you grabbed it and sucked on it while looking at Aemond.
He growled and slid his hand between your legs, playing with your clit, and in no time he had a hand over your mouth as you came, letting out cries of pleasure.
It was up to you to shut him up with your lips on his mouth as he finished inside you after you clenched your pussy around his length.
You pulled yourself off of him and dropped to his side with one last moan, both of your bodies sweating, out of breath.
He turned and kissed your lips while caressing your breasts “I love you.”
"I love you too." You sighed, trying to catch your breath.
After a while you fell into a deep sleep, but before you fell asleep you heard Aemond's words as he stroked your hair.
My love...
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milliesdiary · 1 year
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 — 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
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𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; you get injured one day and your self-proclaimed "rival" has a problem with it.
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬; rhaenyra, daemon, alicent, jace, aemond, aegon
𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; "who did this to you?" trope, blood, kind of gory (?), fluff. female reader
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; this piece was based on this request! also i just had to use that line alicent said to aegon in that one scene... it was too fitting omg. enjoy :)
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𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐑𝐀
you and rhaenyra have always had a rocky friendship. sometimes there was an unspoken sort of distaste, one that neither of you had a reason for; your views just did not align, and you did not agree on how certain events had been handled in the past. as these disagreements grew, so did the rift between you. but as a vital part of house targaryen, you remained there for years despite the hardships and helped her with tedious tasks. whenever you spoke with the princess, your words were clipped, short, and to the point: something you are sure rhaenyra appreciated as well. you assumed she hated you, and accepted this way of life — until the second you got hurt. 
you’d been watching ser criston training the boys in the courtyard, and on accident, a sword managed to get too close and sliced right into your forearm. the second you rush into the palace with a knight behind you — a palm clutching the wound to stop the blood from dripping onto the expensive flooring — has rhaenyra reeling from her place on the sofa. you expect her to grab someone, but instead she’s rushing up to you, an unknown emotion swirling in her light eyes. “dear gods,” rhaenyra whispers lowly, taking your wrist in one of her hands to inspect the damage, calling down the hallway for a maester to bring a cloth. when she locks her gaze with yours, you see it: worry. “what happened? who is responsible for this?” rhaenyra asks, her lips drawn into a taught line and lightly shaking your arm with every word. the second you tell her, she’s screwing up her face in both indignation and annoyance. “i must admit,” rhaenyra mutters, grabbing a cloth from a shocked servant woman and tugging you along to where you presume you’ll be getting medical attention. “i am sick of his incompetence.” when you lift your eyes to stare at her in wonder, you find that she’s already focused on you. with a sigh, she lifts her chin to look ahead, her steps down the hallway resolute and grip on your wrist secure. “at least we will have a scar to match,” rhaenyra murmurs, and her attempt to lift the mood is successful. the moment you smile at her, she’s doing the same. it’s warm. it speaks volumes: all those years spent together weren’t a waste. 
𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍
you and daemon never got along. perhaps it was his attitude that made your hackles rise, or his brash way of speaking that had you prickling with annoyance. either way, the prince was constantly antagonizing you. to your chagrin, you surrendered yourself to a world of teasing; however, things changed when you accidentally took a hard fall onto the floor, thanks to aemond and aegon rushing through the palace in a quarrel and knocking you down.
you make your way down a long stretch of hallway, waving away the boys’ apologies and trying to ignore the blood dripping down your knee under your dress. searching for your chambers with a wince falling from your lips, you presumed you were alone: but there daemon was of course, walking the opposite direction. he at first gives the slightest of smirks in your direction, though it falls when he catches sight of you limping. daemon stops in his tracks, eyeing you with that razor-sharp gaze of his. “what happened?” he questions coolly. before you can even say anything, daemon is sauntering over and aggressively lifting the hem of your dress. you make a surprised noise, one that he ignores, and clicks his tongue when he sees a chunk of skin missing from your knee. “and which inept cunt did this?” his voice rumbles, tone interweaved with venom and... anger?
it’s a reaction you weren’t expecting, and he knows it the second you stare at him in silence, mouth gaping open. a servant stops and gasps at your wound, turning to grab someone, but daemon stops her with his stern voice. “i’ll take care of it,” he barks out, before placing a protective hand around your waist and guiding you down the hall. his grip on you is tight, and you swear you see a slight quirk of his lips when he speaks. “the moment you are bandaged,” daemon says, voice deep yet almost a whisper. “i will have the head of whoever did this. and you are going to tell me.”
𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓
you both had been friends at some point, but after you got into a fight with her father, it ended abruptly. from then on, you always butted heads in some way. still, both of you always tried to keep any sort of conversation between one another civil. it could be awkward, though, having to talk with her at meetings and avoiding eye contact throughout the day, or being in each other’s company without a single word spoken. so once you cut your finger on a blade after trying to rid a loose string from your dress, and alicent enters the room as you cover the cut in a cloth, you’re surprised to find that her brows are knitted together in concern. the gasp that falls from her mouth when she notices the red, raw slice on the tips of your fingers is loud — you swear she almost steals all the oxygen in the room.
in almost a motherly instinct, the queen rushes over, her green gown swishing behind her like a silk scarf. alicent takes your hand in her own before her focus flashes up to you. by the way her dark gaze flies over your face, you can tell she’s trying to analyze your expression, to gauge your pain level. “are you alright?” her hands quickly find themselves upon your shoulders and she aligns her face to yours so you look her dead in the eye. “who did this? was it jacaerys? lucerys?” she questions angrily, voice coming out fast and harsh once she mentions the boys names.
you tell her what happened, and her face softens a bit, the crease between her brows softening. “i thought you hated me,” you whisper as alicent takes a peek under the cloth, assessing the damage. the words has her head shooting up to stare at you; she appears shocked. after a few beats of silence, the woman’s hand comes to rest on your cheek and her lips twitch into the smallest of smiles — something you haven’t seen in a long time. it’s filled with something akin to friendship. no, stronger than that. love. “you imbecile.” 
𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐄
some sort of rivalry settled itself between you and jace as children. you both always competed with each other in almost every aspect; sword-fighting, your training, studying for the septa, literally anything. your chats were full of sarcastic remarks and rebuttals, along with stares of jealousy and frowns from losses.
when ser criston goes too hard on you training, however — knocking you down and causing your head to hit the ground — a hatred grows deep into his gut. his temper is a copy and paste of both his parents: upon seeing you sit up with a groan, he is placed into a chokehold by a force that’s scarlet, scorching, and nearly agonizing. it’s one of those rages that make your chest ache, almost as if your heart has been used as a pin-cushion. “is this what you do?!” jace spits, stepping between you and ser criston cole, glaring at the older man with fiery eyes akin to raging flame. “place harm upon your pupils?” he's upset, his voice much heavier to match the intensity of his furrowed brows and pinched gaze. it’s not the first time ser criston has gotten too heavy-handed with a sword or words: he has seen him egging aemond on to mercilessly beat luke in a practice duel. he’s ushered away by ser harwin, but you’re surprised when he holds his hand out to you to help you up. for some reason, you take it, and it feels right. jace’s palm leaves yours only to land on your shoulder as he leads you out of the courtyard; he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, it seems. in an effort to contain his fury, he scoffs and shakes his head mockingly.
“what a farse,” he grumbles, coming to a sudden stop: his gaze settles on you, and his words are suddenly soft. “is your head alright?” those lovely eyes of his bore into yours, crowned by brunette wisps of lashes as he awaits a response. when you nod, he forces a tight grin and takes you by the hand. he looks a little sheepish as he does it. embarrassed even. maybe jace didn’t hate you as much as you thought he did. maybe he didn’t hate you at all.
𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃
similar to jace, there sits a rivalry between you and aemond. it started when you were younger — two children fighting to prove their worth — and sat with you until adulthood. while you did talk, your conversations were mostly teasing and emotionally provoking. he angered you in plenty of ways, doing little things he knew would be annoying: giving hidden smirks while walking by, jesting, throwing small insults here and there. naturally, you would have thought aemond holds an ill-will toward you. that being said, when you got hurt during a practice sparring match and escorted into the castle by a knight, aemond catches sight of you. having one eye has forced him to become more perceptive, more wary — so it isn’t difficult for him to see how you try to cover up the crimson-red seeping from a cut your palm. you don’t even realize he’s there until you hear the knight address him, and then you turn and aemond is at your side.
without even asking, his large hand is grabbing harshly at your arm to steal a glance at the wound. “gotten yourself into trouble, have you?” comes aemond’s voice. you instantly snatch your hand back, giving him a confused stare, and he returns it with a cool look of his own. something deep and primal has been lit within him; you can see it, and the knight can certainly see it as well, judging by how they decide to remain distant behind you. with a quiet rage in his eye (we KNOW aemond can give off the scariest silent wrath) he orders, “tell me; who is it from?” you try to explain it was an accident, but aemond is not having it. your rivalry has been about one-upping the other and making each other’s lives more difficult, so you’re stunned that he even gives a shit. “whoever dared to lay a single hand on you,” aemond says lowly, tone graced with deadly contempt, “will not live to see my brother crowned.”
you just gape at him with those pretty eyes of yours, puzzled, and aemond offers you a sly smirk. he says nothing else, but his body language holds the unspoken words: i will destroy them in every way i know how. aemond detaches himself from your orbit, walking away on a mission to find out the assailant. he knows you wouldn’t tell him, so “justice,” in his mind, needs to be served by his own hand.
𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍
like rhaenyra, aegon’s distaste toward you comes from differing viewpoints. he finds your beliefs annoying — who says he can’t sleep with any maiden he can get his hands on? who cares if he gets drunk and lazes around? he just can’t fucking stand how intrusive you can be when it comes to his choices, so he avoids you whenever possible. sometimes you end up in the same room, sharing glances at one another, but not speaking much besides uttering each other’s titles in greeting. you manage to treat him well though; you make sure the servants remember to make his bed, have him eat properly, and even send him wine despite disagreeing with his drinking tendencies. still, he struggles to be in the same room with you — and you with him. you’re just being nice toward your future king, and even if it kills you, it may be worth it in the long run. besides, it’s not like he cares about you anyway. thus, you don’t think much of it when a hand-maiden bumps into you and knocks hot tea onto your neck, scalding the skin there. it leaves a blistering burn, one that you can’t hide.
when you are collecting the empty goblets from aegon’s room shortly after, he walks in; you can tell he’s ready to shoo you away, to tell you he does not have to be mulled over… but he stops himself after seeing the peeling red blotch on your throat. quick to judge, aegon’s face screws up in resentment and he takes multiple heavy steps to stand in front of you. “what is this?” he asks, staring at you with a frown until you explain.
“that whore,” aegon almost growls, taking a steadying breath before looking toward the door. “i ought to find her. teach her that she will get what she deserves.” when you grab him by the elbow and tell him it doesn’t matter, aegon rips his arm from your grasp and shakes his head, stark-white hair waving about his face; no one shall bring any sort of harm down on you — because unbeknownst to you, and perhaps even aegon, you’ve made a home in that heart of his. although he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s claimed you as his woman. “this is bordering on treason,” he states angrily. then, after shooting you a softer look, he snatches you by the arm to draw you close. “these commoners will have to learn not to toy with me. or my playthings.”
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Kinktober (10)- Fingering
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Wanda X Reader 18+
Summary: Wanda finds a way to give you the attention you want.
Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI, Fingering, Praise, Fluff
Kinktober Masterlist
“Wanda,” you call out in a playful tone, your feet swinging as you sit on one of the countertops in the kitchen of the compound. “Come here, it’s urgent,” you hear her chuckle while turning around from the stove, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she sees the cheeky smile on your face. Your hand makes a come here motion, Wanda shaking her head at your antics as she checks the food she’s cooking once more before changing the temperature of the hob and making her way over to you. She walks until she’s slotted in between your legs, her face brightening when you wrap your arms around her and pull her into a tight embrace. “Thank God you got here in time,” you joke, breath tickling the skin at the crook of her neck, “Your girlfriend was about to die of boredom and a lack of attention.”
“Was that so?” she laughs out, snaking her arms around your shoulders and swaying both of your bodies slightly. You hum in response, now content with the situation as Wanda was no longer focussing on cooking for the entire team and now giving you some attention. “What can I do to make sure this tragic event doesn't happen again?” she murmurs, sarcasm dripping from her voice making you chuckle while pulling back to look at her.
“How about this?” your finger taps your lips that tug into a cheeky smile. She simply rolls her eyes at you, nose scrunching slightly before leaning down and pressing her lips to yours. Both of you smile into the kiss, an adorable giggle escaping her when she pulls back and looks into your loving eyes.
“You’re so cute,” she mumbles, leaning in for another kiss. “How about I give you something a little more than a kiss?” your cheeks flush at her sultry tone, eyes darkening when you feel her fingers on your thigh, slowly drifting closer to your core.
“What about the team?” you sigh out when you feel her mouth now on your neck, her hand slipping into your jeans and panties.
“If we’re quick and quiet they’ll never know,” she husks out, peppering kisses up along your jaw till she reaches your ear, nibbling softly on your earlobe to make you groan, “I want to make you come so hard on my fingers Detka.”
“Fuck Wanda,” you moan, her other hand going to cover your mouth to stop you from alerting the team in the other room what you two were up to.
“Shhh Detka,” she whispers, removing her hand and claiming your lips once again. Her fingers ran through your folds, your moan muffled by the witch’s mouth. “You’re so wet for me,” she whispers in between kisses, her thrusting two fingers into you and quieting the noise that escaped you by sliding her tongue into your mouth. Her thumb moves to circle your clit, fingers now steadily pumping into you as your hands clutch at her shirt. When she curls her fingers in you at the perfect spot, your hands slip under her shirt, nails digging into her hips and leaving small crescent shapes.
“Wanda,” you sigh out, closing your eyes as you lose yourself in the feeling of her fingers thrusting into you, hitting your g-spot constantly making your hips buck and the way her tongue explored your mouth.
“Are you close Detka?” the tone of her voice dropping an octave as she feels your walls clenching around her. You nod your head frantically, eyes opening to stare into her lust-filled ones. “Come for me,” your moan is muffled by a passionate kiss, body trembling on the marble countertop as you come hard on her fingers like she promised. She works you through your orgasm, murmuring praise against your lips as you try to recover. “That’s my good girl,” you hear her say when you peck her lips, peering up at her with a smile as she pulls out of you. “Was that enough attention for the moment?” she teases, you blushing as you watch her slide her fingers into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she licks them clean of your arousal.
“For the moment,” you shakily say, the throb between your thighs returning at her previous action, “But I might need some more after dinner.” You watch her laugh as she goes to the sink, washing her hands properly and thoroughly before returning to finishing off the food she was making.
“I guess you’ll have to be good-”
“When’s food going to be ready, Sestra?” Pietro calls out, speeding into the kitchen and appearing next to her, peeping over her shoulder to look into the pan. “I’m hungry,” he grumbles, making you laugh as he pulls the same face Wanda does when she’s grumpy and hungry for food.
“I got a little side-tracked, so about another fifteen minutes so it can sit,” she tells him, giving him a look that tells him to not try and argue with her.
“Fine,” he mutters, jumping up onto the countertop with you. “Wait, what did you get side-tracked with?”
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aureatchi · 18 days
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⋆ 𖤓 𓂃 ࣪˖ BUT CAN YOU SEE IT TOO? THE WAY THE SKIES ARE TURNING BLUE . . . ft. OSAMU DAZAI
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⟢ SYNOPSIS. a dream constantly on repeat…you wake up in the arms of your lover after weeks gone by not spending time with each other, greeted by the serendipity of the blue hour and his content, honey-bathed gaze.
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ᡴꪫ a/n. schedule changes have caused me to wake up so early. + i haven’t been able to rest well lately so i dread getting up, but the one i do like is the calmness of deep-blue tone light seeping through the windows. :)
ᡴꪫ info. fem!reader. fluff; a pinch of angst. sleepy mornings. reuniting. poetic, yearning dazai. ノ wc. 1.3k+
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Lately, the land of fantasies had appealed to you the most. Busy days without a moment of quiet serenity ravaged through your schedule unannounced, and before you knew it, half the month already passed.
The only way time stopped was in your dreams. Places where your life didn’t have to be so chaotic—you could control the fact you didn’t have work on a day; you could control if you wanted the weather to shower the blossoming flowers or have not a single wispy cloud in the sky.
“I have a cheat code to lucid dreaming. I’ll only explain if you promise to take me with you, though.”
Above all, you could assure Dazai Osamu was always by your side. That he did not have to leave for days—weeks on end for missions, risky missions. In dreams, he would never have to gamble his life again. Never would Dazai have to feel the level of heartache he was so familiar with.
However, not one soul could stay in the land of fantasies forever. You were soon forced to open your eyes to the empty space in your bed. Another morning without your lover and another lingering thought of being unknown to what he was going through.
So, you longed for the day you would instead wake up in his arms.
You were aware you were in a moment between unconsciousness and awake. Lazily, you shifted positions into a more comfortable one, but instead, you landed in someone’s embrace.
“Osamu.”
It was not framed as a question. Your eyes were closed, but you recognized his touch—the way his hands lovingly cuddled you, slipping under your pajama shirt to warm your back amid the bedroom’s intense air conditioner.
“Good morning, ‘bella,” Dazai said.
Oh, how his drowsiness affected his speech. His voice was noticeably a few notes lower than usual.
He moved his fingers up to your face to move strands of hair away from your features. With that gesture, you slowly opened your eyes.
A good morning indeed. You were not blinded by bright sun rays, but rather coaxed into soft, relaxing blue hues of aurora.
And Dazai’s charming face. He looked like a prince, even just woken up. Your faces both reflected the cerulean light in the room, except his caramel eyes that contrasted against it. You kept his gaze for a few undisturbed moments before he spoke.
“‘Guess beauty-rest is a real thing. You look beautiful.”
You giggled before replying. There was no way—you thought you looked like a mess whenever you got up.
“And you look handsome.” The brunette’s wavy hair was even more disheveled than usual, yet he somehow looked more attractive.
“Only because I’m here with you. I got my beauty rest because of you.”
He gently nudged his pointer finger on your chest to empathize. Meanwhile, a sensation of warmth suddenly flowed through you—a mix of bittersweet joy and affection.
“You were able to sleep?” you whispered.
“Yeah,” Dazai replied and then held up his finger to his mouth, as if he wanted you to keep the fact a secret.
He had been gone for almost a week this time. Who knows how long he hadn’t had the opportunity to sleep?
Dazai shifted, and for a second, you thought he was getting up to leave. In a moment of panic, you tugged down on his shirt to keep him down.
“Wait-”
“‘m going nowhere ‘bella, don’t worry,” Dazai chuckled, amused. He laid your head on his chest, where you were calmed by the soft beats of his heart.
“It’s far too early to, anyway. The sun hasn’t even risen yet.”
You slowly nodded. “What’s the day today?”
“It’s the weekend, darling,” he replied. “Even if not—I’d make sure you’d miss work.”
“I wouldn’t plan on going,” you smiled. How could you miss a precious day with your favorite person?
“How was your week? Any stories for me?”
“Lonely. It was pretty uneventful, too. I just missed you,” you replied. You inched closer to Dazai despite already being pressed onto him, nuzzling your face into his neck.
“How about yours?” you asked as his fingers ran through your hair.
“Don’t worry about that.” He couldn’t see your frown. “Just the typical mission.”
Still, he sensed your unease. He gently kissed your forehead. “I promise I wasn’t in danger. You forget how strong I am sometimes, hm?”
You pulled back so Dazai could see you roll your eyes. “Strong enough to beat all the big bad guys,” you responded, a statement he constantly repeated to jokingly lecture you.
“Exactly!” he winked. “To protect you, of course.”
He held up your hand and clasped it between his, once again making you re-realize the indigo light of the morning.
You turned towards the window whose curtains had been drawn away probably earlier in the foreday. The view was completely uniform in color—the sun had not yet arrived to paint the sky with various shades.
“If our love had to be described in a specific hour of the day, I’d say blue hour.”
You turned back to see his eyes on yours, slightly squeezing your hand. You had zoned off for a few minutes in relaxation.
“Why do you say that?”
“Multiple things,” Dazai smiled. “Such as the deep blue stretching across the entire horizon representing the depth of our love. And how the calmness of the hue reminds me of the way you never fail to give me peace when I’m with you,” he responded.
“How poetic,” you teased, but you couldn’t hide how touched you were by his unexpected sentiment.
“I have more.” His blush did not go unnoticed. “This time of the day is rare to catch. Only appearing in dawn and dusk and only lasting minutes—you’d be lucky to come across it. I’ve stumbled across the most gorgeous girl in the world; I’d had to have some luck. She’s more beautiful than the sunrises and sunsets, and I’ve never met anyone like her.”
Dazai lifted you up, and you straddled his waist. He moved his face towards yours until your noses were touching.
“And finally, in this hour, we are in between night and day. The moon is still visible, yet the clouds are too. Helios has still yet to wake, but there is enough light to point out all your divine features.”
He stole a quick kiss on your lips before continuing.
“A dream surpassing the boundaries of night. One that I haven’t woken up from. You remind me of this very moment.
“Do you know why I asked you to take me with you in your dreams?” he asked.
You cusped his face in adoration. Of course, you knew. He seldom slept, and in turn, he hardly experienced life’s gift of reverie.
“I want to be by your side wherever you go. In every universe, in every moment of time. Not a second goes by when I’m apart from you where I’m not reminded of you.”
You’ve had this dream many times before. A longing for Dazai told your mind to conjure him at a peaceful hour of the day, in the warmth of his arms. You’d repeated this scenario so many times that you’d sometimes forget it wasn’t actually real.
However, you were hit with a realization that, for the first time, this was real—Dazai was home; you would not be woken up to an empty side of the bed.
You knew this because, just as you recognized his touch, you felt seeps of rare vulnerability through his kiss. His human emotion of yearning your consciousness couldn’t single-handedly recreate—the warmth of his body and heart as Dazai pulled you close.
You remind me of this very moment, Dazai had told you once. Whether in dream or the present moment before you, there was something extraordinary about your souls. He knew every experience with you.
Dazai found wherever you were among the cosmos. He transcended night and day—space and time, until he would see your face once again.
He did not need to visit the land of fantasies. You were one already real, his solace and love.
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i heard dazai cuddles w/ you in bed if you rb; reblogs are appreciated, they are what support me the most! <3
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© AUREATCHI 2024. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + animated line divider by cafekitsune; gradient line divider by benkeibear. manga header mine.
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myfictionaldreams · 11 months
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The Haunting Silence // Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Natasha was your soulmate and she had done everything physically possible to keep you hidden and safe. Every day the two of you spoke through your mind using your soulmate connection but, what happens when suddenly Natasha's mind is silent?
Requested by: @southern-goth​ thank you for the request!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (lots!), fluff, hurt/comfort, head injury, Sense 8 soulmates AU, Crying/Anxiety, threats of violence, protective Natasha, scissoring, oral sex, fingering, multiple orgasms
Words: 7.5k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 
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Soulmates: two souls that are deeply connected and once successfully found, can communicate through their minds, no matter how far the location or language that was spoken. They were rare and many people were driven insane with the search to find their one true love but not you, you'd accepted years ago that there may never be the chance of ever finding her until fate was on your side.
It had been a beautifully mundane day. The movies like to show a romantic first meeting between two souls tied together from the depths of time, whether it be colliding in a coffee shop, running through the rain or even the hero saving someone from a villain. This was not anything like the start to your story, in fact, there were many details you couldn't remember.
Was it sunny? A Monday? Were you wearing jeans or leggings? You were completely unsure of any of these details but these were all menial with regard to the bigger picture no matter what day it was; it was the best day of your life as you met your soulmate. One minute your thoughts were your own, always described as 'hauntingly silent' by individuals who had already found their soulmates and thought back to the time before meeting their loved one.
Then the next, as you turned towards the exit of your work, your eyes hadn't even connected with her green eyes, still mesmerised by her lips as another silky voice echoed, "Oh", through your mind. It wasn't just this, as a warmth settled through your chest, not realising how empty you had been surviving through life until you finally found her, Natasha, your soulmate.
Natasha Romanoff had recently joined SHIELD when the two of you met but, she was honest about her alter ego Black Widow, as well as her past as an assassin which quickly helped to decide the dynamic of your relationship: a secret.
You were a nurse in a small hospital in the middle of nowhere, it was a surprise to you that Natasha had even found your workplace with it only being used by the locals. This fact actually aided with you being able to keep the relationship secret, you were a nobody in comparison to Natasha, no one would even look in your direction with suspicions or notice a hooded figure sneaking into your home in the middle of the night with your lack of neighbours.
At first, it had been difficult, you'd just found someone you wanted to spend every waking second with but she had to travel around the world and face dangerous missions constantly. However, thankfully with your soulmate connection, you could talk through your minds as long as you were both awake. Then as aliens attacked Earth and the Avengers were formed, you were happy to still be hidden, knowing that if anyone found out about you, they could use you against Natasha so a long-distance relationship it was.
Every single day, the two of you spoke, her words always feeling like being wrapped in a tight warm hug or when the tone changes, a seductive finger sliding down your spine.
Today, you were 5 hours into your shift at the hospital, finding a spare moment to wander down an empty corridor, hugging a report to your chest as a smile widened across your face.
You aren't lying to me, are you? your words were teasing towards Natasha but had every undertone of seriousness behind them.
Natasha had to hide her smile behind the microphone of the headpiece she wore as she was currently flying the Quinjet on the way back from a mission with the Avengers. Why would I lie to you, Milaya?
Your heartbeat quickened at the use of her nickname for you, Milaya, translating to darling, a name that often had you feeling safe and warm. It was also an easy way for Natasha to distract you from your questioning so you shook your head and tried to remain on track with your mind communication.
Please tell me, you encouraged, trying to find out if your soulmate had earned any injuries on this mission.
I'm fine, it's only a scratch on my wrist. - and bruised ribs to match the deep purple shade forming along her jaw where some asshole managed to punch her in the face, but you didn't need to know about that Natasha decided. You were at work and didn't need the distraction.
Hmm fine, I'll believe you for now but I'm going to see if you're lying when you get here in 2 days' time, you responded trying to sound slightly doubtful, having had this conversation with the red-haired assassin far too many times before.
Natasha's mouth quipped into a soft smile that she didn't bother to hide, eyes softening as she looked across the extensive view of clouds. 2 days seemed like such a long time to you both, her stomach twisting uncomfortably thinking about the wait as she decided, I'll try and visit sooner.
Don't rush baby, I would love to see you but please rest. It had been nearly two weeks since you had been able to hold or kiss Natasha and it was almost like you craved to be with her, needing to smell her hair, stroke her bare skin - you were going insane without her around. However, you couldn't help but feel bad that she felt the need to rush to be with you, she was so busy on these missions, hardly eating, sleeping and having to be at peak physical performance at all times. She was doing the very most and travelling across the country to see you whereas you had to sit pretty and wait for her, yes you worked full-time at the hospital but it was hard to compare your fatigue to Natasha's.
I just want to be with you, Natasha finally admitted, her voice losing the confident tone she had been trying to uphold for your benefit.
Your steps slowed to a stop as you stared at a crack in the concrete floor, I want to be with you too. You sighed out loud, wiping a hand down your face before trying to continue the conversation. Where are you at the moment?
Natasha swallowed the lump forming in her throat, the sudden overwhelming sensation to cry needing to pass as she was still surrounded by her friends in the Quinjet who had no idea she had found her soulmate all of those years ago. Looking at her coordinates, she replied, we are flying over Colorado at the moment.
You smiled slightly as you approached the door you had originally been planning on visiting in the hospital, the happiness felt through the bond that Nat could feel her chest warming. Oh, I've always wanted to visit Colorado, I've heard the--.
Silence.
Not the silence that came with being distracted and losing your train of thought but the sort of quiet that left an empty hole in Natasha's chest as she waited for you to finish your sentence but it never came. The assassin sat up further in her seat, heart beginning to pound violently behind her ribcage as the realisation dawned on her that the emotions she was experiencing were the haunting silence she felt before meeting you before there was ever a soulmate connection.
Milaya? Natasha asked into the void of her mind, but there wasn't any sort of response or emotions felt back. Even when you were asleep, Natasha could feel your calmness and sense of contentment through the bond but it was just...lifeless.
MILAYA?! The red-haired woman was screaming through her mind, frantically pulling off her headset as they felt suddenly claustrophobic, forest green eyes darting wildly around the multitude of buttons laid out before her on the jet's console.
Nat hadn't noticed that in her surge of anxiety to try and get you to respond, she had actually begun verbalising her nickname for you, which caught the attention of Tony who was sitting closest to her.
"Who? I'm not naming the jet that Nat, if- Woah". Tony's words were swiftly cut off as Natasha pushed past him, her mouth was painfully dry, eyes wide and unblinking with fear, the match the tremor that had settled in her hands as she grabbed the touchscreen computer typing in your hospital's location.
Her eyes moved faster across the screen than ever before. There was nothing, no reports of an attack, nothing that would be a reason for your bond to completely disappear. Next, she opened the local police scanners and reports but once more, there was nothing that reverted back to the hospital.
Every second that agonisingly ticked past, she continued to scream a mixture between your name and Milaya, hoping there would be some sort of a response but nothing seemed to come of it.
"Natasha? What is it?", it was Steve who was asking now. Natasha's erratic behaviour was quickly questioned by her colleagues and friends who all approached and watched with confusion as she continued to lose all control.
Clint pushed past the others, grabbing onto his best friend's shoulders, his eyebrows furrowing as a tear slipped from the woman's eye, sliding down her cheek. Looking over her shoulder towards the screen, he recognised the hospital name, him being the only person that Natasha trusted with your whereabouts.
"What is it?" Clint demanded.
"I... I can't hear her", Natasha's voice was quiet and displayed her distraught brokenness.
"Her? Who is her?" Tony asked.
"Tony, not now", it was Bruce this time who spoke up, having never seen Natasha lose her composure like this, something had to be seriously wrong.
Clint's hands moved to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him, "Nat, I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath in for me and tell me what's going on."
Natasha removed herself from Clint's grip after taking one steady breath before turning back towards the computer screen, not bothering to wipe away the tears that she couldn't stop from falling as she attempted to log into the hospital's CCTV. From there, she rewound the feed to a couple of minutes ago and began to search through the corridors.
"Can someone explain what's going on, please?" Steve asked, more sternly than before, trying to find some answers that he wasn't getting.
However, the Black Widow wasn't listening, becoming even more panic-stricken with each passing second as she searched for you on the screen until finally, some air returned to her lungs as she found you walking down a deserted corridor, the footage a minute before the bond suddenly stopped. Natasha nearly smiled at seeing you there, even though she couldn't see the details of your face due to the low-quality cameras.
Tentatively, she, along with the rest of the Avengers, watched you walk down the corridor. Nat's eyes continued to glance at the time, watching it tick down as you approached the door at the end of the corridor, opened it and stepped in and then nothing as it was the time everything became silent. There were no further camera feeds in that room, you were simply there one minute and then something happened in the room and the bond was gone.
Natasha rested her head against the computer, closing her eyes to put all of her effort into shouting your name into the void in her mind but the only thing that responded was the silence and the disrupting shouting from the people around her was distracting.
"Everyone shut up!", she demanded with authority, thinking hard enough that it was beginning to form a migraine.
Glancing towards Clint, who looked just as worried as she felt, he asked, "Nothing? What about here?" he tapped against his chest, directly over his heart.
Natasha shook her head before a red suitcase caught her eye line. Taking a step towards Tony she demanded, "Give me the iron man suit".
Tony scoffed, "What? Not until you explain what's happening- wait what the fuck?!"
"GIVE ME THE SUIT!", Natasha had lost all composure, not thinking clearly, only thinking about you as a priority as she reached into her holster and within half a second, had her gun pointed towards Tony's head.
"Natasha, put the gun down, NOW.", Steve demanded, taking a step towards the billionaire like he was going to stand in front of the gun for his friend.
Nat began to cry, still mumbling, "Give me the suit Tony", the hand holding the gun still visibly shaking. Clin stepped directly in the path between the gun and Tony before Steve could, he held up his hands for good measure to show he didn't mean any harm.
"Nat listen to me", his voice was calm and low as he spoke, like he was talking to a frightened animal. "Even if you wear his iron man suit, I don't think you're in the right mindset to be by yourself so this is what's going to happen. You're going to lose the gun and I'm going to sit in the pilot seat and fly us to her, we'll be there in a couple of hours but you need to calm down right now, this jet is too small to be firing guns and you know it".
She knew he was right, thankful that she had a friend to talk some sense into her as she lowered the gun, nodding her head towards Clint who rushed to the seat she was just sitting in, placing the headset over his head. Returning the gun back into her holster and watching as Clint increased the speed of the jet, she suddenly jumped as Bruce began talking to her.
"How long has it been since you found her?" he offered her a warm drink that she hadn't noticed him pour for her. Of course, Bruce was the first to suss out what was going on. Nat held the warm drink in her hands and forced herself to drink it, even though the nausea she felt was overwhelming, she needed to try and keep calm.
"Before I knew any of you...except for Clint", Natasha admitted quietly, sitting in one of the seats surrounding the edge of the Quinjet.
Steve sighed heavily, sitting next to her, now understanding just what was going on.
"Wait, so you've had a soulmate this entire time and you didn't tell any of us?" Tony asked, sounding slightly disheartened by the news.
"I had...I NEEDED to keep her safe Tony. Do you really think our jobs don't come without any repercussions?" Tony shivered at Nat's words, thinking about the number of times his soulmate Pepper had been caught in the crossfire due to him being Iron Man. "Exactly. I can't lose her, she's... the only person I have and the only one I let get close to me, she's my only one and now, she's not answering my calls, something is wrong, I know it is".
The Avengers all nodded their head solemnly, understanding why she had reacted the way that she did. Tony sat opposite Nat, eyes full of remorse, "So is her name Milaya? That's what I heard you say earlier".
Natasha released a half-assed chuckle beneath her breath, "No that's just a nickname, her name is y/n", she allowed herself to smile for a split second, thinking about the first time she'd called you Milaya and how fond you were of it.
Then realisation dawned on her that this was really happening. Not only were you potentially in danger but now the Avengers also knew about you, could this potentially mean you didn't need to hide anymore? Shaking her head she left that thought for another time, needing to make sure you were ok first.
"Everyone strap in", Clint shouted over his shoulder, the jet beginning to reach it's maximum speed. Natasha attached the buckles around herself tightly, dropping her head back and continued to try and shout down the bond.
Clint landed in the near-empty car park in record timing much to Natasha's relief, who hardly waited for the doors to fully open before jumping down onto the tarmac. Even though the car park was bare for vehicles, there was still a scattering of people gathered around, visiting people in the hospital or using the facilities which meant, as the Avengers were suddenly in this forgotten-about town, it caught their attention quickly, shouts and whispers from every direction.
This didn't stop the group however as they followed Natasha into the building, her footsteps fierce and confident, face full of determination, all tears gone as anger replaced those feelings. There wasn't any immediate sigh of distress as they entered the building, and no sign of an attack still or police presence.
The reception lay straight ahead, and immediately, Natasha knew that it was the receptionist Bonnie behind the counter, someone you had talked about with affection on many occasions and it dawned on the assassin that she probably knew every professional in this small building.
Trying to not sound too aggressive but still holding the urgent tone, Natasha stopped before the counter, staring at Bonnie who looked up with comically wide eyes, glancing at each of the Avengers before looking back at Black Widow as she began speaking, "Y/N, where is she?"
Bonnie frowned in bewilderment, "Nurse Y/N? But how did you know-"
Natasha's heart dropped painfully as the receptionist seemed to confirm that something had happened. Beginning to lose her composure once more, her voice raised in noise level as she demanded, "Where is she? Is she even here? Did someone take her? Is she dead-?"
Bonnie quickly cut off Natasha's rant, standing from her seat with raised hands, "No! No she's not dead but something did happen earlier, let me take you to her".
She directed the group down a corridor, half running with how fast Natasha was trying to walk in front of her, ignoring the stares from the other patients and professionals. As they approached a series of windowed rooms, Bonnie began to explain what had happened.
"A ... a guy came in earlier, we think he snuck through the basement but he was caught stealing meds which were where Nurse Y/N was stationed and...she found him in the cupboard and he hit her hard across the head, by the time we found her, the guy was gone and she was unconscious on the floor. The doctors are still waiting for her to wake up was the last update that I had".
Natasha was reeling from the information, knees momentarily buckling but Clint was right behind her, hand under her arm to keep her upright and moving. You were alive, that was the information that alarmed through her mind, you were unconscious that was why she couldn't feel the concentration, it wasn't like you were asleep and could wake at any time, you'd been forcibly put to sleep, your body healing and cold.
Then there was the fact that someone had actually hurt and injured HER soulmate, right now, you were her priority but the second you were feeling better, nothing and no law would stop Natasha from hunting this guy down.
Suddenly Bonnie stopped in front of a large window that looked into a private room that had light filtering through the blinds causing an orange hue to shift across where you lay in the hospital bed in the centre of the room. There were a few machines scattered around that were monitoring your observations and a nurse recording the results standing next to the bed.
Natasha had to use every part of her training to try and hold back the audible sob that threatened to explode from her mouth as she didn't wait for permission to walk into the room. However, no one seemed to have the courage to even question the Avenger, all looking confused between her and the other heroes, nurses and healthcare assistants gathering to see what all the commotion was about.
The nurse turned, hearing someone else entering to room, her eyes widening just as exaggeratedly as Bonnie's and Natasha was quick to read his name tag, Chris. Internally she smiled knowing you were in good hands, Chris had a reputation at the hospital for his quality of care and that you and he were close friends, it must have been hard for him to then stay professional and give care for his friends.
"Is...Is she ok?" Natasha finally found her tongue to ask the Nurse, her green eyes wandering over every inch of your body. You looked almost peaceful, except for the fact that you were still in your Nurse tunic and there was a bandage plastered to your forehead.
A wave of nauseous anger rushed through Nat's body but she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Chris's full attention was now on the Avenger as he answered her question with a surprisingly sturdy tone considering he was talking to one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. "She's had several stitches to close the injury, we found a metal pole next to her covered in blood so she took a strong hit. Thankfully there's no internal damage shown in the scans and she's yet to wake up but her observations have remained stable. Even if she wakes, she'll need to stay for a day or so to fully assess the damage."
The red-haired woman nodded, feeling somewhat relieved hearing this.
"Natasha?" Clint asked from the doorway having heard what Chris had said, waiting until the assassin turned towards him before continuing. "You good? We'll get out of here to give you some space just... keep in touch, will you? Let us know when she wakes up and-", his voice lowered dangerously low, "we'll find the guy".
Natasha nodded thankfully, even though she wanted to find whoever did this, the promising look in Clint's eyes she knew to trust that he had it covered. The rest of the Avengers shuffled back down the corridor, waving at the onlookers, thankfully taking the spotlight off of Natasha for a second as she attempted to step closer to you.
With no one there to hold her up, her knees buckled once more with overwhelming relief pulsing through her heart as she reached for your hand, her eyes filling with tears at the warm skin of your hand against yours, finally feeling grounded and connected to you.
Chris was quick to provide a chair for the Assassin, leaving the two of you and ushering away the spectators through the window, Natasha decided she would find him later to thank him for this.
"Oh Milaya," Natasha sighed as her face searched yours, hand gripping yours before stroking the back with his thumb.
The movement seemed to stir something with you as your fingers twitched in her grasp, a moan releasing from your mouth, eyes flicking beneath your still-closed eyelids. It almost felt like instinct for you to turn your head towards Natasha, feeling her presence there as the further you stirred, the mouth the empty hole in Natasha's chest filled with your bond.
"Natasha?" you whispered, voice thick and slurring slightly.
Nat brushed her other hand across your cheek, leaning down to lightly kiss the part of your temple that wasn't covered in bandages, mumbling "I'm here, baby". For this once, she absolutely didn't care who could see the two of you, Natasha allowed herself to be vulnerable for a moment, she thought she'd lost you, there was no way she was wasting another moment again.
A further hour passed before you moved again, sucking in a deep breath to properly fill your lungs and frowning, feeling something was off but not sure what. Blinking open your eyes, you flinched at the bright light that sent pain sparking across your head.
"Milaya?", Natasha whispered, careful to keep the noise down to not affect your sensitive senses. Her thumb brushed across your soft cheek, trying to help you arouse so she could see your pretty eyes.
"Nat?" you asked again, voice still sounding just as slurred and thick as before, "Am I dreaming?".
Eventually, your eyes opened, squinting against the orange light still pouring through the outside window. Even though the doctors had been giving you pain relief through your IV that was attached to the back of your hand that Natasha wasn't holding, you were still sensitive to the lingering concussion.
"There are those pretty eyes", Natasha praised as you looked at her hovering over you. "You aren't dreaming, you're ok, you're safe".
"What- What's going on?" you asked, feeling like something was wrong but not quite understanding just yet. You were confused and dazed still. Attempting to sit up, you frowned as your soulmate pushed against your shoulders, keeping you lying but you were only attempting to be closer to her.
"Hey it's ok, you don't need to get up, you need to rest", Nat encouraged, watching as you looked down at your body, observing the leads attached to various areas to monitor your observations, the cannula in your hand to the heavy feeling in your head, lifting said hand to brush over the soft material of the bandage on your head. Natasha cupped your hand and pulled it away from your injury, "Be careful my love, you've been hurt, don't touch it".
"I've been hurt?" you asked with confusion but the slur was very much still evident, you still need to rest and recover.
"Yeah, do you ... remember anything that's happened? Do you know what day it is?" Natasha asked, staring down worriedly at you.
You tried to think hard about today but your mind continued to be blank with delirium. "Uh... I don't remember anything. I feel like I'm floating through space", you admitted but then something dawned on you, even though you couldn't name what day it was, you knew you were at work, having been in this particular room hundreds of times and Natasha was definitely next to you right now, still dressed in her Black Widow uniform. Eyes flicking over her shoulder to the indoor window, you could see some of your colleagues walking around. "You're here! In front of everyone, they'll see you, Natasha!"
Natasha's eyes softened, hands coming up to cradle your face, "Shhh Milaya, I don't care that they've seen me. Baby, I thought you were dead." Her eyes dropped from yours to stare at your name tag that was clipped to your tunic, willing the heavy emotions to remain at bay, you needed to rest and she didn't want to make you more upset. "We were talking and then you were silent but usually, I can feel you even when you're asleep but there was nothing and I couldn't... I had to come here, I thought you were in danger, I mean, you were in danger! Apparently, some asshole was stealing med and you found him so he hit you with a metal bar".
"I'm sorry I scared you", you responded, feeling overwhelming guilt over the situation but still feeling completely dazed and out of it. "Will you stay?" you asked hopefully, reaching up to touch her cheek gently.
"I'm not leaving your side", Natasha confirmed.
"Good". The two of you stayed silent for a few minutes as the assassin returned to sitting in her seat, lifting your hand to place it back against her cheek so she could nuzzle into it. You smiled at her softness, something she didn't often like to display before something else caught your eye, your fingers nimbly grasping her chin to turn her head away from you so you could look at her chin, seeing the painful bruise there, "I thought it was just a scratch you got on this mission?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Ah, so you do remember somethings", Natasha smirked, referring to the conversation the two of you were having before you were attacked.
"Oh little bits," you admitted, "I bet we look like a right pair", you joked, eyes closing with heaviness suddenly exhausted.
"Get some sleep Milaya", Natasha muttered against the palm of your hand.
I love you, you spoke into the mind connection, feeling heat spreading across your chest with love.
Natasha had never heard such beautiful words before, sighing and leaning over before she could stop herself to kiss your lips softly, audibly whispering, "I love you too".
Thankfully, 24 hours later you were discharged and finally bombarded by your friends and colleagues that were swiftly brushed away by Natasha as she led you towards the exit, but she quickly admitted that her phone had been going off constantly from the Avengers, wanting to invite you over soon to be introduced.
It took Clint three hours to find the man responsible for the attack and had been keeping him in a secret holding for Natasha, not that the woman was rushing to leave your side any time soon.
The days passed by and you were forced to rest by both the Doctor and Natasha, who was quick to do anything and everything for you and you were more than thankful, the symptoms of the concussion taking longer than you'd anticipated to wear off.
Finally, you felt strong enough to climb out of bed, the smell of food being cooked coming from the kitchen had your stomach growling in hunger as you quickly had a shower, still careful of the plaster over your stitches but the massive bandage had been removed thankfully.
After dressing in only an oversized top and shorts, you smiled lovingly at the sight of Natasha in the kitchen, standing in dark joggers and a thin grey vest, her hands moving skillfully over the food that was cooking, toast popping up in the toaster.
You began to move forward with the plan to help her by buttering the toast, greeting her with a "Hello beautiful", and reaching for the knife and butter. However, your attempts were futile as Natasha snatched away the utensil.
"Nope, I'm doing that, go and sit down please", she began moving away from you, to continue with her cooking.
Rolling your eyes, you simply found another butter knife from the drawer and moved back to the toast, "I'm fine! I can butter my own toast, Natasha".
Once again, she simply removed the knife from your hand, shaking her head with a throaty laugh, "I'm looking after you so go and sit down".
"You have looked after me and I'm feeling almost normal except for the stitches", you admitted, pulling the toast over from the toaster and placing it onto the plate, moving closer to Nat to try and snatch the knives out of her hand but she held it at arm's length, still smirking. "You're relentless you know that?" you finally admit defeat, hand dropping to your side.
You watched her move for a moment, not planning on sitting down at all before stepping behind her as she stirred something in one of the pans. Your hands rested against her waist, fingers teasing along the hem of her vest to finally slip beneath and feel her warm, soft skin as your lips kissed along her exposed shoulder. You smiled against her, hearing the relaxed sigh escape her mouth.
"Hmm... and you are good at distractions", Natasha quipped over her shoulder, leaning into your touch.
"I've missed you," you admitted thoroughly, even though the two of you had been together for the last few days, due to you resting, you hadn't been able to be intimate and you missed her, especially being away for so long before the attack.
I've missed you too, Milaya. Natasha spoke through your mind, hands moving to rest over yours before turning slightly towards you. "But- I need you to eat first, your stomach growling woke me up this morning and I'd feel much more content knowing your belly as full before I take your clothes off".
You swallowed harshly at the end of her sentence, thankful that she wasn't fighting you on being intimate and you could deal with the request, kissing her mouth quickly before stepping back towards the table that was already set for the two of you to eat.
Sitting down, you watched mesmerised as she cooked, it looking almost like she was dancing around the kitchen, you knew you could never be as graceful as her but she also had extensive training which aided with her movements. Your core clenched though as her vest continued to ride up on her hips, exposing more of her stomach and you wanted nothing more than to lick the area.
"Having fun over there?" Natasha asked with a wicked smirk plastered on her beautiful face as she observed your wandering eyes and the shifting you were doing on the chair with your obvious arousal.
You bite your lip to hide your grin at being caught, not quite finding the words to respond that wasn't a request to take her clothes off so you distracted yourself by drinking the glass of water that was already placed on the table.
The two of you ate and chatted about Natasha's teammates, especially Tony who had sent about 50 invitations to you to join the numerous events that were coming up that the Avengers had to attend, hoping you would accept one so he could bombard you with questions.
You both had decided that you'd attend one eventually, increasing the security would be easier now as you didn't need to hide away. This new found freedom was exhilarating and you couldn't wait to walk down the street, holding her hand and showing everyone that she was yours.
Scrapping the plate clean and moaning at how good the food tasted, you stood to wash up the plates but once again, Natasha was grabbing the plates from your hands, moving over to the sink and placing them into the warm water.
"We can do that later", she informed, extending her slender hand for you to take and leading the way towards the bedroom. The two of you lay in the centre of the bed, your eyes were already heavy, you hadn't realised just how tired you were, with a full stomach and it had been the most you'd moved in days and had exhausted you quickly.
You felt bad having teased her and attempted to reach for her but she easily held down your arms, pulling your body against hers, fingers moving delicately across your scalp in a calming manner. "Get some sleep baby, I'll be here when you wake up".
When you finally woke, you were greeted with the peaceful sight of Natasha also sleeping, her features completely relaxed. Watching her for a moment, you carefully lifted your hand, attempting to tuck a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear but in a blink, your hand was stopped in midair as Natasha gripped your wrist.
You grinned as she opened her eyes, "It's really creepy when you do that".
Natasha's plump lips tilted into a smirk, her eyes flicking across your face as she bought your wrist up to her mouth, kissing the sensitive skin on the inside that sent a shiver through your spine. "You love how quick I am, really", she teased, her voice completely sultry to match the darkening look in her eyes.
"I love everything about you", you countered, leaning closer, finally closing the gap between your lips. Both of you released a heavy sigh, breaths fanning across each other's faces at finally touching. Your skin burned instantly, feeling like there were tiny electric pulses coming from wherever your skin met and it always felt like that when it was with your soulmate, intense and powerful.
Natasha broke the kiss first but only to move down your cheek, on her own journey to reach your lobe, nibbling the sensitive flesh between her teeth that caused a deep moan to vibrate in your chest as your fingers reached for the thin straps on her shoulders, efficiently pushing them down.
"My Milaya", Natasha whispered against your ear, her fingers, pushing underneath your shirt to do their own exploration. Just before the tips of your fingers began to graze over her now exposed breasts, she pushed you fully onto your back, easily rolling on top, straddling over your abdomen her shoulder-length hair falling and framing her face as she leaned over you. "Let me make you feel good".
You mewled in response, admiring the beauty that she was, the way her lips parted and shined in the light, the straps dropped off of her shoulder that allowed for her vest to drop and reveal her perked breasts that were desperate to be touched. A finger slid under your chin as she looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
"You're so beautiful Natalia", you praised, hoping your eyes showed as much affection as your words did. Natasha's shoulders visibly dropped with love at the use of her birth name before she was leaning over you and kissing you fiercely, desperately moving, tongue pushing and flicking against your own, both moaning as you could taste each other.
Your hips lifted trying to find some friction but ended up grinding against Nat who groaned at the contact, her fingers suddenly reaching to grasp the edges of her vest, pausing the kiss for a second so she could remove the offensive material before moving back down to your mouth.
It felt so good to have her chest naked, rubbing against your t-shirt, that she was willing to be so bare before you. Your fingers caressed down her spine first before pulling around to the front, grazing over her scars and careful of her still healing bruised ribs that didn't seem to phase Nat anymore as you finally cupped her tits.
You felt the weight of them against your palm, squishing the beautiful flesh before tweaking her pretty nipples, earning a grind down from Nat's hips on your abdomen. Smiling against her mouth, you knew she had ultra-sensitive nipples which only made it more fun to play with them, hearing the desperate little moans she would release.
Suddenly, you were left cold and reaching for more as Nat sat up, pushing her hair out of her face as she looked down at you, "take off your clothes", she demanded whilst climbing off of your lap to remove her joggers speedily. You did as instructed, first removing your shirt and then your underwear before lying back down and Nat was straight away straddling your body again.
With no layers of material between the two of you, her bare, noticeably wet cunt now lay against your abdomen. Your hands went to her hips to grind her hips further against you, making her rock her body against yours as she leaned down once more to kiss you, your breasts rubbing together as her pussy rolled against your stomach.
"I'm supposed to be making you feel good", Nat whispered breathlessly against your neck of which she had moved to leave open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin.
You chuckled, releasing her hip with one hand to reach between your bodies to play with her nipple again, feeling the vibration of her moan melt into where your chests touched. "You are making me feel good", you responded just as breathlessly, rubbing your thighs together and feeling how wet you were.
The assassin suddenly moved, half climbing down your body and moving one of your legs over her hip, lowering her hips and then her cunt was stroking against yours. The two of you moaned, and your eyes flicked between her now swollen parted lips and where her hips began rolling against yours, your clit brushing against yours, both of your juices mixing together.
You matched her movements, gripping onto the leg that she had positioned over yours still, your hips rolling with hers, both gasping and mewling as your clits were rubbed and swiped against each other.
"Feel so good baby", Natasha praised, her hand coming up to cup against your breast, massaging the flesh slowly to match the thrusting of her hips. Your head flung back as she tweaked your pebbled nipples as she pressed especially hard against your clit. "Do you like when I rub on you Milaya?" she asked you, feeling her cunt pulse with arousal at seeing you experience such pleasure.
"Yes, feel so so good", you groaned, also reaching up to play with her tits, before sitting up slightly and pulling her face down, kissing her desperately as you both chased your highs, clits still sliding against one another with how wet you both were.
You were so close, your core beginning to tighten as you began to chant her name like a prayer, needing and wanting her, begging not to stop as Natasha was responding with just as much desperation.
Your cunt then started fluttering as you came, hands gripping onto Natasha hard enough that you were sure to leave bruises but it just felt so good that you couldn't stop. Natasha continued her movements for a few further minutes, finding her own release with a beautiful gasp.
You had planned for her to catch her breath but she was moving before you could comprehend that she was, your legs being pushed back against your chest to expose your soaked cunt to her as she lay down on her stomach, eyes connecting with yours as her mouth dropped to your pussy.
She began by licking up everything you had spilt, moaning at the taste of yours and her juices, tongue pushing through your folds before teasing your hole that was still twitching to be filled. Your hands replaced hers with holding up your leg, of which she gave a long lick up your entire middle as a reward, now freeing up her hands. With one, she spread you open, giving her the perfect view of your clit and hole and then she was diving right in, her lips sealing around your clit and sucking whilst two of her powerful fingers pushed inside of you, curling instantly about your special spot.
"Oh my god- Natasha!" you moaned, and you could feel her smiling against your bundle of nerves at your reaction, seeing your eyes closed to concentrate solely on the pleasure that was being given you. This was all you had wanted for weeks, to be with her, spend time touching and pleasuring each other's bodies, feel the bond glowing and strengthening with the time spent together.
Natasha's skilled tongue and fingers drew a toe-curling orgasm out of you, your back arching to try and grind your hips on her face. She had been a master at work, her eyes never leaving your face as she watched you go through all the stages of pleasure.
You were then rolling the two of you over, and you wanted nothing more than repay her with your tongue but you still had to be careful of the stitches on your forehead. So instead, you used your fingers in her soaking cunt and your mouth sucked leisurely on her nipples which had her clenching around your fingers, your thumb stroking against her throbbing clit.
"Milaya, don't stop", Natasha cried out, hands clenching into the sheet below, her thighs shaking around your hand, a pink glow to her cheeks as she watched you move from one breast to the next. You didn't stop, wouldn't stop until she was cuming around you and the way her walls were becoming tighter, her breaths coming out in short bursts you knew it would be soon.
"Cum for me 'Tasha, wanna hear your moans", you encouraged after releasing her nipple for a second and then going straight back to sucking it harshly into the back of your mouth.
"Ah! Yes-!", Nat's eyes rolled back as she began quivering around your fingers and you didn't stop your movements, making sure to draw out every ounce of pleasure that you could, until her hips jolted through overstimulation.
Easing your fingers out of you, you quickly drew them to your mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of her before she was sitting up and kissed your lips. Her tongue stroked against yours and you could taste yourself on her, and you hoped she could do the same taste herself on your mouth.
Then you were both collapsing into the middle of the bed, limbs tangled together facing one another and trying to catch your breaths, sweat glistening off of your bodies. Smiling softly at her beautiful expression, feeling her thumb stroke near to your stitches, you asked, "what's going on in that head of yours?"
"I'm just thankful you're here with me, I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you", she admitted in nothing more than a whispering volume.
Reaching to take her hand in your own, you kissed her knuckles, feeling the scars beneath your lips, "You don't ever have to worry about that baby".
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tomieafterdark · 1 year
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hate fucking with Eren drabble..18+
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want more? I got you<3 here’s my masterlist
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pairing: Eren x fem!reader
cw: hate fucking, sex through the prison bars from that one season 4 scene, no prep but reader is wet enough by just seeing Erens drastic glow up, vaginal sex, ass slapping, choking, hair pulling.
a/n: I haven’t watched season 4 properly and that includes this scene so if something is missing you know why😭 anyways enjoy this drabble, I am having a writers block kinda so I am stuck on my requests and longer fics rip.
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Hange just came back up from asking Eren some questions, it seems she didn’t have much of a breakthrough though.
“He kept babbling on about fighting…” she said and sat down with the others. She looks disappointed as she continues explaining what else had happened.
You wanted to go down and check on Eren knowing damn well Eren despises you. Ever since you first met, you’ve had this weird energy of constantly competing or tearing each other down. Deep down inside maybe you were just looking for a way to let out your pent up anger and sadness, to tease Eren or full on argue with him. You just needed an outlet for your feelings…
As you get closer to his cell, he is still mumbling to himself about fighting. What a weirdo. And he is shirtless with a freaking manbun, you take a minute to stare at him not knowing he is aware, his body looks like it was carved by the gods themselves. As much as you despised Eren, you couldn’t help but admit he was so attractive right now, he has changed a lot.
“How long are you going to stand there and not talk, you know I am not deaf. I heard you walk down.” He says, his voice is husky and sends chills down your spine. You hadn’t seen Eren for a while, last time you saw him he was annoying and whiny and just cried a lot…this time he is different. You bite your bottom lip. His face was hotter too, that hairstyle looks like it was invented just for him.
“Whatever.” You say in a bratty tone, and walk closer to him.
He doesn’t care, he is just sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looks annoyed, as if he was doing something important earlier and had been interrupted.
You start to bother him on purpose, hoping for a reply. He must be equally desperate to let out his pent up emotions because he argues back. Suddenly you and Eren are full on arguing about god knows what because it doesn’t make sense to anyone but you two. It goes from petty things to you bursting into tears, asking Eren why he has changed so much and why he is hurting everyone he once cared about. Eren doesn’t take kindly to that last part, you don’t know it but you hit a sore spot inside of him.
He grabs you by the collar of your shirt through the bars, eyes full of hatred and rage with a hint of pain and regret if you look deeper. You don’t stop there, you’re so angry and upset you end up bringing his mom into it, and then the real hell breaks loose.
He yells at you to leave her out of it, you scream back about everything that’s wrong with his behaviour and plans and how she would never approve of this. You’re trying to reach the little humanity he had left in him but it’s not working, the tension between you becomes weirdly sexual at some point. He can’t deny the tension and neither can you, he may have neglected his humanity but that doesn’t mean it’s not there deep within him, screaming to be let out, to express its feelings. The very feelings he has been pushing down to work toward his goal, pushing everything else aside. With you being here, and the sexual tension already between you the grief and pain chooses to express itself sexually.
He turns you around, with little care for how it affects you or if it hurt. He is rough with you, even though there’s literal bars between you he doesn’t seem to care. He pulls you in close, you can feel his breath on your neck. You giggle in response to Eren’s rough manhandling. “Geez, I didn’t know you had this side to you. Last time we argued it just ended with you crying like a bitch!” You laugh.
He slaps your face really hard in return, causing you to moan a little. Something about his cold broken energy just made you so attracted to him, and the carelessness and manhandling only made you more weak in the legs. You had not planned for this sexual tension to arise with Eren. Sure, all your arguing earlier helped you release the anger you were wanting to express but the sexual side of you needed release too and Eren’s glow up alone had awakened it. You hadn’t had sex in so long, too much work and too little time for anything else left you neglecting your sexual needs a lot.
You arch your back and push your ass up against Eren, to your surprise you’re met with some hardness. “Arguing makes you hard? You really are a mess Eren Yeager” you say to him in a snarky tone and laugh.
“Shut the fuck up, aren’t you the one pushing your ass all up against me like a bitch in heat?” He says in a husky voice that sends shivers down your spine. You almost accidentally moan yes daddy in reply, this new Eren has your mind racing. You just smirk back at him. “I’ll fuck this sly smirk off your face bitch, when I’m done with your ass you’ll be crying begging me to stop.”
“Ooh I’m so scared. Face it Eren, you couldn’t last a minute.” You brag, hoping to get a rise out of him and get manhandled even more. Oh how you wish those stupid bars weren’t between you, so Eren could have his way with you.
He chokes you in return and pulls your pants and panties down, you’re so wet just from this alone. It’s good you are wet because Eren was so pissed off he would’ve bottomed out in you wether you were wet or not. Your eyes roll back as you’re gasping for air, he is choking a bit too hard. He gets closer to your ear as he continues choking and whispers “spread your legs more bitch.”
You’re so dizzy from being choked you accidentally reply back “yes daddy” out loud instead of in your head and spread them causing Eren to chuckle, he low-key likes it and even more when you said it in the state you were in. He shoves his entire length into you, it’s so big it hurts causing you to wake up from your dizzy state. He knows you’re struggling to take it, from the way your body tensed up to the way you’re almost pushing him out is telling but he keeps pushing it in making you take it all. Your moaning is starting to get a bit to loud, which has him hiss “quiet you whore. Do you really want them to find you like this? All wrapped up around my cock moaning like a slut?” He lets go of your throat and puts it over your mouth, your muffled moans are still loud but it’s better than before. He keeps thrusting at a merciless speed, your body finally stopped resisting his sheer force and you’re taking him. Limp legged, barely able to stand up and he just keeps going, you can feel it reach all the way up in your stomach. He grabs your hand and makes you feel it. “Feel it slut, that’s me re-arranging your tiny little guts.” You cry out in return, it’s making you lose it, it’s just too much. You just want to collapse here and now, but Eren pushes your hand down on the bulge his cock is making on your pretty stomach. Your reaction is gold to him. “What was it about me not lasting huh y/n?” He snarks and starts slapping your ass, not once or twice but so many times your cheeks turn red.
You squirt all over Eren’s cock, orgasming so hard your cunt is once again trying to push him out. Eren just buries himself deeper inside you, feeling every small movement your cunt makes in hopes of pushing him out. Your breathing is getting faster, with legs shaking. “Please Eren, pull out for a second it’s too much” you cry out with tears running down your pretty cheeks.
“Shut the fuck up and take this dick” is all he says and starts fucking you deeper. He puts you on all four, positioning you into a mean painful arch even though there’s bars between you. He somehow reaches deeper into you with the position you’re in and you’re leaking all over the cold cement floor from your eyes and cunt. Eren is brutal, you had enough ages ago but he keeps going. You are so overstimulated you try to crawl away but you’re met with more brutal manhandling, he pulls on your ponytail keeping you in place. “What’s wrong y/n? You can’t last longer?” He mocks.
You end up getting your absolute brains fucked out by Eren, at the same brutal pace for what feels like hours. When he is done, you’re a mess. He didn’t stop until your cunt was overstimulated, bruised and gaping. You hear the others come down to check on Eren, you quickly put your clothes on. You’re struggling to stand as they come over, you’re just standing against the wall with your legs threatening to collapse any minute.
thanks for reading I didn’t proof read so sorry for mistakes 😵‍💫
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spider-stark · 1 year
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Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader
Summary - Your ex-boyfriend, Peter Parker, finds out that you're planning on going out with Harry Osborn, and he's definitely not happy about it.
Warnings - Sexual situations (no actual smut), slight degradation kink if you squint, angst
a/n - another random little thing I wrote about Peter in-between writing for Infinitely You. considering a part two, but we will see! lemme know what you think :)
// masterlist // send me your thoughts //
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“You seriously can’t expect me to be ok with this!” 
The sound of his voice had your blood boiling, anger instantly coursing through your veins as you realized just how domineering his tone had become. He was purposely trying to push you to your limit, seeing just how far he could go before you would finally break. 
“I don’t care if you’re okay with it, Peter!” You snapped at him, not bothering to even look over your shoulder at the boy as you both trailed through the halls of Oscorp, Peter following at your heels like a lost puppy. “And last I checked I don’t need to ask for your permission when making my own decisions.” 
“You can’t go out with him.” Peter grumbled from behind you, ignoring your words entirely. He respected your decisions, he really did. But it wasn’t his fault that you made such terrible ones, he thought to himself. “He’s a total dick.” 
The comment stopped you in your tracks, swiftly turning on your heel and looking up to stare directly at the annoying boy that refused to just leave you alone. “Guess you two have something in common then.” 
He narrowed his eyes at the gab. “What do you even see in him? I thought you hated his little rich kid attitude.” 
You hated the way he mocked your voice as he spoke. Hated the way he mimicked the phrase you had used to describe Harry Osborn so many times in the past. Yet, he wasn’t wrong.
You did hate the way Harry used to act around you–constantly flaunting his fathers fortune–expecting you to fawn over him like all the other girls that came his way. But things had changed after you took on an internship at Oscorp. Harry realized that his pompous act wasn’t working on you, and the closer the two of you got the more you realized it was just that–an act–and you had grown to like the person he actually was. 
“We both know that’s not who he really is.” Peter stayed silent, both of you knowing that he couldn’t argue with you. Harry was his best friend, and he was a good guy behind the flashy cars and his multibillion-dollar corporation. “And at least he makes time for me.” 
The comment had hit its mark, hurt flashing across Peter’s face as the words cut into him. You didn’t let yourself falter, didn’t let yourself feel the guilt that was starting to rise in your chest. He deserves it, you reminded yourself.  
“You know I always tried to be there for you,” his tone softened, his own irritation momentarily melting away as he began to recite the same spiel he had given so many times before, “but it’s complicated, people need-” 
“People need Spider-Man.” You cut him off, finishing the sentence for him. “And I get that.” You really did. People relied on Spider-Man, trusted in him that he would be there when they really needed a hero. “But I needed my boyfriend, Pete. And he was never there.” 
Things had been complicated since the two of you split, especially since neither of you had been willing or even able to cut the other out of their life. You were Peter’s biggest supporter, and Spider-Man’s, but you had grown tired of the constant suffering that came with being close to him. 
As much as you loved Peter, you couldn’t help but crave normalcy. Someone that could be there for you and make you a priority, something that Peter wouldn’t ever be able to offer. 
There was a beat of silence, the weight of your words still lingering in the air between the both of you, before he finally broke it. 
“He can’t make you happy.” It was a weak argument, and Peter knew that, but it was the only one he had left. 
“Honestly Pete?” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “You set the bar low. Extremely low. At this point I think I’d be happy just to have a partner that won’t crawl through my window in the middle of the night and bleed out on my carpet.” 
Pete rolled his eyes. “Okay, that literally only happened one time!” 
“Pretty sure one time is more than enough.” 
“Well there were plenty of other times where you didn’t seem to mind having me crawl through your window.” He shot you a smug grin, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ya know, for someone who seems so pissed that their boyfriend was Spider-Man, you sure loved fucking me in the suit-” 
Your eyes widened, your head jerking around to make sure that no one was around to hear his words. Peter didn’t seem to care either way, only smirking when he saw the blush that was starting to creep up your neck. 
“I’m not gonna lie,” he continued, once again pushing and pushing, just trying to see how far you’d let him go, “I always thought it was kinda hot. You’ve always been pretty desperate for me, but god, the way you’d act when I wore the suit?” He paused, looking you over as he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. You hated how the simple action made your breath catch in your throat. “It was pathetic–how you were such a slut for Spid-” 
You roughly grabbed hold of his wrist, snapping at him to shut up in a hushed tone. He let you pull him towards the empty conference room to your left, that stupid proud grin still on his stupid face. 
“What are you trying to do? People can hear you, Pete! Do you want people to find out who you are?” Your attitude was much different than Peter’s, clearly not sharing in his apparent amusement as you tried to quietly pull the door shut. 
A part of you felt like you were getting emotional whiplash from this conversation, somehow jumping back and forth between anger, pity, and guilt while simultaneously trying to pretend like his words didn’t have an effect on you. But Peter knew you, he knew everything about you–and he was using that knowledge to his advantage. 
“You gonna try and get Harry to wear it?” You weren’t surprised that he once again ignored you, only caring to entertain the conversation you wanted out of. 
“What are you even talking about?” 
“The suit.” His tone was so matter-of-fact, so cocky and arrogant. You wanted to hate him for it, wanted to pretend that you didn’t love when he acted like this. “I mean, he’s got enough money to find a replica somewhere, right?” 
You bit down on your bottom lip, your nerves building as you watched him take a step closer. “Shut up.” 
“I’m sure you’d love it, wouldn’t you?” Another step towards you, caging you against the closed door. You could feel his breath against your cheek, though you still refused to look at him. “Maybe you could convince him to wear the mask, yeah? Pretend like it’s still me fucking you.” 
Copper filled your mouth as you bit down on the inside of your cheek, fighting against the familiar warmth building in your stomach. He wanted to get you riled up, that much was obvious, and he knew exactly how to do it. Fuck you, Peter Parker, you had meant to say the words out loud, but they died in the back of your throat as you struggled to find your voice. 
Peter’s nimble fingers lifted to your face, forcing your chin up so you had no choice but to look directly at him. “Even if he wasn’t wearing the mask,” he cooed, the gentle tone not matching up with the dark gleam in his eyes, “we both know you’d still be thinking about me, right?” 
A shaky inhale on your part, desperately trying to maintain a cold stare. You couldn’t let yourself melt for him, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he still had so much control over you. “You’re intolerable.” 
“You’re not denying it.” He didn’t loosen his hold on your chin, not giving you a chance to break away as his other hand began to trail along your waist, fingers sneaking beneath the hem of your shirt to touch bare skin. “That when you’re with him, you pretend I’m the one touching you,” 
He tilted your head further, leaning just close enough that you could practically feel his lips graze against yours. “Pretending I’m the one kissing you.” 
The hand on your waist suddenly dropped to your hip, his thumb digging roughly into the flesh just hard enough that you were certain it would leave a mark. You gritted your teeth, trying to hold back the gasp that threatened to break free in response to his actions. Peter knew that you were holding back, fighting against your own instincts, and he planned on breaking you.
“Do you wish it was me?” Just barely a whisper, his lips now ghosting against your jawline as he rephrased the question, harsher this time, “Do you pretend that I’m the one inside you?” he shifted his hips as he spoke, pressing them against yours and letting you feel the very prominent bulge in his jeans. You didn’t have time to stop the high-pitched squeak that it had elicited, your face burning red as you accidentally gave him exactly what he wanted. 
“No. I don’t.” The words came out weak, as well as a little shaky, your eyes screwing shut to try and avoid looking at him. 
You weren’t sure how you felt anymore, the emotional motion sickness reaching an all-time high as you grappled with your feelings; just angry enough to scream at him, just horny enough to scream for him. 
Your pitiful attempt to deny him did nothing as he still worked his way down to your neck, lightly nipping at the sensitive skin, grinning against you when he felt you jump at the sensation. “I don’t believe you.” 
His fingers were now toying with your waistband, tugging against the material, begging for any sort of indication that you were okay with it. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to turn him down even if you wanted to, and thankfully you weren’t gonna have to. 
A loud buzz against the door caused both of you to jerk away from each other, Peter stumbling back before you realized that it was your phone vibrating in your back pocket. You didn’t hesitate to reach for it, desperate for a distraction. 
Harry. 
Guilt washed over you as you saw his name appear on the screen, followed by a text telling you that he had finished up work early so he could take you out for dinner. It was a simple gesture, one that some wouldn’t think twice about, but the thought made your chest tighten. 
He was making time for you. 
Peter seemed to know who it was that texted you, able to put the pieces together on his own. That cocky mask fell as he watched you, listened to the way your heart skipped a beat when you thought of Harry. 
“Pete,” He recognized that tone, the same one you had used the night you called it quits, “I love you. You know that, but-” there was always a but, “I just–I can’t do this again. I need to pick what’s best for me.” 
“And Harry is what’s best for you?” It hadn’t been meant as a slight, but rather a genuine question. One he knew he wouldn’t like the answer to. 
“Maybe not.” You hesitated for a moment, dreading what you had to say next, “But I know that it’s not you. It can’t be you. Not again.”  
The words hurt to say as much as they did to hear. Neither of you wanted this, but as much as Peter hated to admit it, he knew that there was no other way. Not right now, at least. Not while the world still needed Spider-Man. 
“Okay.” Peter’s voice cracked, doing his best to force a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes, not in the way it used to. “So where does that leave us?” 
You tried to return the smile. “Friends?” 
“Does that mean I have to see you with Harry?” 
“Probably, yeah.” 
“Fine.” He feigned a look of disgust, earning a small laugh from you. “But I’m not gonna like him.” 
“He’s your best friend, Pete.” You snorted at his statement, assuming that it had to at least partially be a joke. 
“And you’re the love of my life.” Peter shrugged and tried to mask the pain that accompanied his words, while you tried to mask the sound of your heart breaking, “So I guess things change, huh?”
If you liked this, then please feel free to check out my No Way Home series, Infinitely You! :)
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atinystraynstay · 8 days
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Checkmate - Park Seonghwa
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Synopsis: Jealously is a dangerous game.
Pairing: Biker Bf!Park Seonghwa x fem reader
Really got inspired by this gif set because when I sent it to a friend, she said that Seonghwa was giving biker bf! vibes and I just have been drooling over that idea ever since.
Genre: Angst, on and off relationship
Contains: mentions of sexual intercourse (use protection babes!), alcohol consumption, vulgar language, attempted spiking of drink (be cautious when you go out, babes - hand your drink to a friend, take it with you. Better to be safe always), description of physical violence
Word Count: 3k
Heartbreak was not in the forecast for this week, but sometimes things changed. Yet, you were familiar with the rollercoaster of emotions so it almost was routine, always expected like those in the Pacific Northwest anticipate rainfall. It was part of your normal.
Deep down, you knew you were in love with your boyfriend, Park Seonghwa. He was someone who added excitement into your life and could be the absolute gentleman. At least when you two weren't arguing.
The arguments between you were not frequent but more explosive. You two often approached situations defensively, almost refusing to see the other's perspective unless the other came in apologizing immediately. You two were stubborn which led to your cycle of being on and off.
Almost everyone in town knew you were Park Seonghwa's girl. Even after the ugliest of arguments, you found your way back to Seonghwa one way or another. Some might say that your souls are carved out of the same material, so you're bound to be together one way or another.
Seonghwa was the type that was fiercely protective of you. To him, you were capable of standing your own ground. He just didn't trust the motives of other people, so he always had a watchful eye over you.
That was ultimately led to the recent argument between the two of you. Seonghwa wasn't suspicious of your best friend's new boyfriend. He was a part of another biker gang in town who didn't quite carry the best reputation. Seonghwa thought he was being reasonable by asking you to limit your interactions with the individual.
However, you took it as Seonghwa didn't want you to see your best friend anymore. You were running on high emotions when you exchanged venomous words you would never use to actually describe your beloved. You called him a monster, self-centered, and insecure.
You were also hurting from the impression it seemed that he couldn't trust you.
Time and time again, you have shown your dedication to Seonghwa. Or at least you thought you had. You were constantly there to take care of any bruised knuckles or black eyes he might obtain from altercations. You poured so much love into him to help him be the confident man he is today.
Hell, you guys have been on and off for three years. Isn't that enough to prove your devotion when you always come back?
Apparently not.
"If you want to be a slut, kitten. I'm not going to stop you," Seonghwa growled at you. "Go on. Go someone else's whore."
His words cut deep. It shattered your heart into a million pieces that no argument had been before. Sure, Seonghwa might call you his slut behind closed doors. The word doesn't bother you as there was often a tone of possession behind it.
Yet, to be called a whore? By the man you love? That just aches.
You had no argument left in you after he said that. Whore. It just repeated in your mind like a broken record.
So you went to the only place you could think of to escape from the ache. Alcohol. You were currently sitting at the bar. You were wearing a black silk skirt that had a slight slit that exposed your knee. It was Seonghwa's favorite on you. He always claimed how angelic yet tempting you looked. You wore a black top that showed off your cleavage nice well.
Might as well fulfill what Seonghwa wants from you, right? He made it clear you were no longer his lover.
"Well isn't it Mrs. Park," a voice called out to you. "We're filing for divorce," you murmured.
While you might not know the particular person speaking to you, you had to make it clear. You were not linked with Seonghwa anymore. He made that very clear, and you were convinced there was no going back this time.
Not when it seemed his view of you was tainted, that he was disgusted by you because you were some common whore to him. You weren't his angel, his lover anymore.
"Can the lady get another drink? Put it on my tab."
Your interest undeniably peaked when the stranger offered to buy you a drink. You found your posture sitting up before turning around to face your suitor.
Your eyes widened. No fucking way. It was your best friend's boyfriend.
"Oh hi! Is y/bff/n here?" For the first time that night, you had a bit of hope in your eyes. Maybe not all is completely lost. You never liked to say you were dependent on Seonghwa, but your whole world was created when you got together with him. Without him, you felt like you had no true direction in life. You could always count on Seonghwa to guide you, to cherish you. But now what? The only remanent from your past life before Seonghwa was your best friend.
Her boyfriend shared an apologetic look before shaking his head. "Oh. I guess she didn't tell you. Um, we broke up last week." "Oh fuck, I'm sorry. She and I were meant to catch up but we both just had let life get in the way. I'm sorry to hear that." "It's okay. Maybe it isn't too bad? I mean, after all, we are people trying to overcome heartache."
As if on cue, the bartender delivered your drink in front of you. You smiled as you exchanged your ice-filled glass for the fresh cocktail. You raised your glass in the air as he followed suit with the beer bottle that accompanied his.
"Cheers to that," you laughed.
Clink!
After taking a proper sip of your drinks, you both set them down on the bar top. You looked out towards the crowd, seeing dancing bodies as the bass from the stereo rattled your bones. It was the perfect opportunity to forget reality.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, what happened? I mean, I don't think Seonghwa is as dumb as I think he is."
In any of your past relationships, you were all on board to bash your exes. Not Seonghwa. He had given you the world, and somehow, you gave him the impression you weren't genuine. Even though you were hurt by his words, you still felt the need to protect him.
"I think I messed things up," you sighed. You tried your best to blink away the tears, taking another sip out of your drink to ease your nerves. "I don't even know at this point. We were just arguing in circles and somehow, I pushed the man I love away and I don't think he's ever going to welcome you back."
Your best friend's ex-boyfriend looked at you sympathetically. You didn't deserve any pity. You were the one that ruined the relationship. There is no way Seonghwa would say such a word if he didn't mean it. You just couldn't calculate how he got that impression you would cheat on you.
"His loss, y/n." His hand rested on your knee comfortingly, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You don't want to get mixed up with the wrong crowd anyways. Seonghwa and his biker gang are all trouble, you know that."
It felt odd to have another man touch you, even if it wasn't particularly intimate. Seonghwa was the only man you trusted within your bubble because he was yours and you were his. At least, that's how it was until tonight.
Seonghwa initially joined the biker gang when he was 18. He felt lost in this world. There was no traditional career path that sparked any interest, so going to college seemed pointless. Especially when there sometimes can be such a hefty price tag.
Hongjoong, one of his classmates, had talked about the gang. It helped Hongjoong feel important, like he had power in a world that often casted any strays to the side. Seonghwa wanted to do something meaningful in his life, and the bikers allowed him to do that. His gang, in particular, viewed themselves like the Robin Hoods of your town - trying to make wrongs into rights. They were the good guys.
"And what? Your gang has a clean record?" You teased.
He chuckled and put his hands up in defense. "You got me there, pretty girl. But I can still see Seonghwa is a complete jackass for letting you roam free. Never know what can happen," he sighed.
"But at least I'm here with good company," you said. "Unless you hurt my best friend? I mean, she didn't call me crying but still." "Yeah, I know, kitten. That's your girl. Don't worry. Things just fizzled out between us. I think we thought we could give each other what we needed, but I realized it wasn't enough." "Ouch. Not sure what type of heartache is worst." "The type where you feel sorry for yourself."
You nodded, even though you didn't completely agree. You didn't feel sorry for yourself. If anything, you felt guilty for pushing away the best man you've ever met. You really thought eventually, the on-and-off carousel would come to a stop but where you two would get off together. Maybe get married. Have a house in the suburbs. A girl can dream.
"Another drink?" Your friend's ex offered.
You smiled and nodded. If he was paying, why not take him up on it. There seemed to be no strings attached, so who knows. Maybe this is the start of a new friendship, a new chapter, a new life for you.
Although, you couldn't quite shake off Seonghwa's warnings about the individual beside you. Maybe Seonghwa's been overreacting this whole time? I mean, the guy seems harmless even for being in a gang.
Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.
You looked at your phone to see Seonghwa's name pop up. You rolled your eyes and declined it immediately. There were no words to be exchanged between you and Seonghwa. Not when the message was loud and clear from him. He was done with you.
Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.
Seonghwa. Decline.
Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.
That's it. You looked at your new friend and muttered a quick apology. "I'll be quick, ok?" He nodded before turning towards the bartender to order another round.
You grabbed your phone, deciding to hop off to take the conversation outside. At least maybe you could hear him clearly and get all the pent-up emotions off your chest. While you were wishfully thinking that Seonghwa would beg for you to come home, you also had to be realistic.
Seonghwa was a well-known guy in town for the wrong reasons. His gang made grown men quiver in fear. Someone probably saw you were out alone, talking to someone from a rival gang. Specifically, a person whom Seonghwa viewed as public enemy number one. It didn't look good, but how bad could things get for you? Seonghwa wasn't your boyfriend anymore. That fact alone kept you at rock bottom.
Finally, when you were at least in a hallway of the bar, your thumb hit the green accept button.
"Hwa-" "Stay where you are."
Your eyebrows furrowed at his command. It wasn't an ask. His tone was fierce, firm. You knew there was no room for arguing, even though you wanted nothing more than to scream at him for what he said.
"How do you even know where I am, huh?" "I always keep track of my belongings, baby girl."
Your heart fluttered at the pet name. What was going on though?
Before you could question, just to get more details, you heard grunting from his side of the call. The fluttering in your heart came to a quick halt, especially when you heard grunting.
Was he okay? Was he hurt?
You noticed that the music at the bar came to a screeching halt. Quickly, you picked up on the sound of fists flying, grunting, and shouting. Even though you knew better than to stay where Seonghwa told you to, you had to investigate. At least to make sure he was okay.
Cautiously, you emerged from the hallway into the main floor of the bar. Some of the members of Seonghwa's gang were beating up the members of a different gang. The one your best friend's ex belonged to. Most of the bar had cleared out the moment fighting broke out it seems. Either out of fear or not wanting to be present when police arrive.
It was then you noticed where Seonghwa was. With the call still on-going, you noticed his cellphone was on the bar top. Yet, Seonghwa stood over your friend's ex as he remained seated. Seonghwa's fists were gripping onto the collar of the poor guy's shirt. Oh no.
You came rushing over, trying to get Seonghwa to ease up. Jealousy never brought out the best in people.
About to speak up, you found everything came to a halt the moment you heard Seonghwa.
"And you dare try to hurt my girl? My world? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
What was he talking about? Your mind was rushing to the numerous scenarios of what could have played out to lead to this moment. Did someone feed Seonghwa the wrong information? Was someone trying to stir drama.
"Listen, man. I was just following orders!" "And you really are that much of a sick fuck to try to spike someone's drink?"
Your eyes darted to the bar top to look at your drink. It seemed to be okay, the usual light yellow color from the pineapple juice mingling with the clear liquor.
But then you noticed the clear baggy. It was small, and easy to be hidden if the man leaned his arm a certain way. Honestly, you probably would have missed it when you returned to your seat.
Seonghwa was seeing red. He was worried you had taken a sip, only arriving right after you slipped away to accept his call. He was fearing the worst case scenario, and he had asked you to stay back so he could come help you once he handled the creep.
"Hwa? I'm okay, baby."
The harsh breathing from Seonghwa slowed down at the sound of your angelic voice. His grip didn't loosen, but his demeanor softened slightly. Yet, he still remained vigilant in case the punks tried pulling a fast one.
"Kitten, I asked you to stay where you were. I didn't want you to get hurt." "I didn't take a sip, I promise. He ordered a new one for me when I slipped away to take your call," you confessed.
You didn't speak in your normal tone. Seonghwa always admired how confident you are. Even during the worst of fights, he was enamored by how you always stood your ground.
Now, though, your voice was soft. Almost timid. You weren't afraid to speak to him, but clearly overwhelmed by the situation. To go from breaking up with your boyfriend, again, to nearly falling for a trap. All you wanted was to be in his arms, your safe haven.
"Hwa, we can take care of him," Hongjoong announced from behind. His hand was on Hwa's shoulders, to show he was fully capable of taking over dealing with the low life. It helped knowing that San was also there to be a the guy to a pulp after retrieving information, of course.
Revenge would be sought after. But not until he comforted you and made sure you were okay.
Seonghwa nodded, taking a small step away from the guy. However, before he could even think of running off, Seonghwa's knuckles met his face. The guy's head went flying back, so he slumped in the stool. Hongjoong and San took Seonghwa's position, leading the guy out back to handle business.
You didn't even notice the fighting in the bar had come to a halt. The bar was nearly empty besides the few members of Seonghwa's biker gang who checked the perimeter, to ensure that it was safe.
Immediately, Seonghwa rushed over to you. Both of his moved to cup your cheeks, his thumbs caressing over your cheeks. He had a hard exterior, but he was undoubtedly soft for you. It was a privilege of getting to experience this side of him. Your eyes fluttered shut in the comfort of his warm touch but also at your settling heart.
"Are you positive you're okay? He didn't touch you?" "No," you whispered. "He bought me a drink and touched my knee, but that's it, I promise."
Seonghwa's blood boiled slightly, but not enough that made him want to jump and join his two friends outside. What was important to him was taking care of you.
His heart shattered as he noticed the tears slipping from your eyes. He pulled back which caused your eyes to widen, fearing he was about to walk away. All he did was coo in your direction as you watched him shrug off his leather jacket, draping it around your shoulders.
Once he noticed your arms had slipped in through the sleeves, he wrapped his arm around you. He never wanted to admit it, but he loved being physically close to you. He just loved how soft and warm you were. His free hand moved up to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear.
"I never should have said such hateful words. God, I am a fucking idiot, sweet girl," he whispered. His lips moved to plant a lingering kiss on your forehead. "I don't view you like that. Like what I called you. I don't even know why I said it, but it's not a fucking excuse."
This happened every time Seonghwa felt guilty after an argument. When he was consumed by the guilt, he couldn't quite put the words together so they came out at once. He never wanted to let something be unsaid, especially when he was trying to make amends.
And all he wanted was to make things right with you.
"I'm done with the arguing, sweetheart. The way we argue isn't productive because I mean it when I say I'm putting a ring on your finger."
He pulled back, so you two could look at each other. Your eyes slightly widened but a smile was on your face. The tears of anxiety and sadness were replaced with tears of joy. "Really?" You whispered. "That is, if you accept my dumbass back as your boyfriend? And that you allow me to work hard to be the man you deserve, not just who you need."
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bitchiswild · 17 days
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Distracted | Purinz
G!P Yunjin x G!P Chaewon x F! Reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: threesome,face fucking, cream pie, etc. A/n: First time writing a threesome tell me how it is😊 REQUESTED
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"Y/n, can you please pay attention? I'm not enjoying this any more than you are, but we really need to finish this," Yunjin said, annoyed, glancing up from her laptop to see you squirming in your seat.
"Yeah, Y/n, listen to the nerd. Let's just get this over with," Chaewon added with a scoff, her arms crossed as she slouched in her chair with her legs spread out.
Your head snapped towards them with a glare, muttering under your breath in frustration as you turned your attention back to your part of the project. The three of you were gathered at Chaewon's house to work on the project together. You and Chaewon had never gotten along. Ever since your mutual friend/ teammate Kazuha introduced you to her, the popular girl, and you, the captain of the soccer (football) team, there had been tension. The two of you constantly got on each other's nerves.
Yunjin, on the other hand, was a different story. She was practically a loner, not having many friends and always focusing on her studies. She was what some might call a "nerd," always engrossed in nerdy activities.
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere in Chaewon's living room grew increasingly tense. Despite the shared goal of completing the project, the underlying animosity between you and Chaewon continued to simmer beneath the surface.
Yunjin, sensing the growing tension, tried to mediate. "Alright, guys, let's try to focus and work together," she said, attempting to steer the conversation back to the task at hand.
But Chaewon couldn't resist taking a jab at you. "Yeah, Y/n, try not to mess this up like you always do on the field," she remarked with a smirk.
Your temper flared, and you shot back, "At least I contribute something other than empty popularity."
Yunjin sighed, recognizing the futility of trying to defuse the situation. She returned to her laptop, quietly typing away, determined to finish her portion of the project despite the brewing conflict.
The tension between you and Chaewon escalated with every passing moment. Each word exchanged felt like a verbal jab, intensifying the animosity that had long simmered between you.
In a moment of frustration, Chaewon leaned in closer, her voice dripping with disdain. "You know, Y/n, maybe if you focused less on sports and more on actually using your brain, you wouldn't always be at the bottom of the class," she sneered.
Your jaw clenched as you fought to maintain your composure, but the comment struck a nerve. "And maybe if you weren't so obsessed with being the center of attention, you'd realize there's more to life than popularity," you retorted, your tone sharp with anger.
The room fell silent for a tense moment, the air thick with unresolved tension. But then, unexpectedly, Chaewon's expression shifted, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes.
"You know, Y/n," she said, her voice lowering to a husky whisper, "for someone who talks a big game, you sure seem to have a lot of pent-up frustration."
Your heart skipped a beat as her words hung in the air, the tension between you suddenly taking on a different, more charged quality. It was as if a switch had been flipped, the animosity giving way to something altogether more primal.
Caught off guard by the sudden shift in dynamics, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from Chaewon's, the air crackling with an unspoken challenge.
Yunjin glanced up from her laptop, startled by the sudden change in atmosphere. Her eyes widened as she watched Chaewon saunter towards you with deliberate steps, her movements oozing confidence and a hint of something darker. It was as if Chaewon had transformed into a predator, and you were her unsuspecting prey.
Chaewon's gaze bore into yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a raw hunger in her eyes, a desire that seemed to consume her entirely. It was a look you had never seen from her before, one that stirred something primal within you despite the lingering tension between you.
As she drew closer, the air between you crackled with anticipation, thick with unspoken desire. Your heart raced in your chest, torn between the instinct to flee and the inexplicable pull drawing you closer to her.
Yunjin watched in silence, her expression unreadable as she observed the electric exchange unfolding before her. It was as if time itself had slowed to a crawl, the world narrowing down to the charged space between you and Chaewon, where every breath, every heartbeat seemed to echo with the promise of something forbidden.
As Chaewon closed the distance between you, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. And then, in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down your spine, she uttered words that made your heart skip a beat.
"You know, Y/n," she murmured, her voice dripping with seduction, "I've always wondered what it would feel like to have you beneath me, begging for more."
Your breath caught in your throat at her brazen words, your mind reeling with a heady mix of desire and disbelief. Before you could form a coherent response, Chaewon closed the remaining distance between you, her lips crashing against yours in a fervent kiss that ignited a firestorm of passion within you.
In that moment, everything else faded away as you surrendered to the intoxicating sensation of Chaewon's lips moving against yours with a hunger that matched your own. It was a kiss filled with longing, with pent-up desire that had been simmering between you for far too long.
Caught up in the heat of the moment, you melted into Chaewon's embrace, your hands tangling in her hair as you lost yourself in the overwhelming rush of sensation. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent confession of all the unspoken desires that had lingered between you, finally finding release in the electrifying connection you shared.
As Yunjin sat there, her face flushed at the scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but stutter out, "I-I think I should leave..."
But her words were drowned out by your escalating moans, the intensity of the moment overpowering any attempts at rational thought.
Chaewon, her voice husky with desire, murmured against your ear, "Do you like that, Y/n? Do you want more?"
You could only manage a breathless nod in response as Chaewon continued to grope and tease, her touch igniting flames of pleasure within you.
"Tell me what you want," Chaewon whispered, her lips brushing against yours in a teasing caress.
"I want..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, "I want you..."
And with that confession, Chaewon's hunger reached its peak. Without hesitation, she pulled you into a searing kiss, her hands roaming freely over your body as she eagerly explored every inch of your desire. The sound of your moans mingled with the rhythm of your pounding hearts, filling the room with a symphony of passion as you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.
The room was charged with tension as Yunjin remained frozen in her seat, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene unfolding before her. Your moans, growing increasingly desperate, echoed through the room, sending a shiver down her spine.
Unable to resist the overwhelming arousal building within her, Yunjin's hand drifted down to cup her hardening cock, whimpering softly at the electrifying sensitivity that coursed through her body.
Your head snapped towards Yunjin at the sound of her whimper, and you caught Chaewon's eye as she began to kiss down your neck. "Chaewon," you sighed out, your voice a breathless plea, "Nerd over there wants some action."
Chaewon detached herself from your neck, her gaze flickering to Yunjin's flushed face with a wicked smirk. "Aw, is the nerd getting turned on by watching two girls kiss?" she teased, her voice dripping with amusement.
Feeling emboldened by Chaewon's taunt, you crawled over to where Yunjin sat, guided by Chaewon's nod. "Tease her a little, Y/n," Chaewon instructed, her voice low and seductive.
You obeyed, brushing your fingers teasingly against Yunjin's face before trailing them down her body, eliciting a shuddered breath and a whimper from her. Your hand found its way to Yunjin's hardened bulge, and you began to rub it gently, feeling her tremble beneath your touch as desire surged through her.
Yunjin's breath hitched as she succumbed to the intoxicating sensation, her body responding eagerly to your teasing caresses. The air crackled with anticipation as you continued to explore Yunjin's desires, guided by Chaewon's wicked gaze and the heady rush of arousal that enveloped you all.
With a mischievous glint in your eye, you continued to rub Yunjin's clothed cock, feeling it throb beneath your touch. Looking up at her with a daring smirk, you whispered, "Take off your pants, let me suck you off, nerd."
Yunjin wasted no time in complying, eagerly pushing down her pants and underwear in one swift motion. Your eyes widened at the sight of her exposed cock, a rush of excitement coursing through you as you took in its size.
"Who knew the nerd had such a pretty big cock," you remarked with a playful smirk, your voice filled with admiration.
Without hesitation, you leaned forward, your lips capturing Yunjin's throbbing member as you began to lavish it with attention. Your hand joined in, providing additional stimulation as you worked her with fervor, determined to bring her to the brink of pleasure.
Yunjin's moans filled the room, mingling with the sounds of your slurping as pleasure coursed through her. Lost in the intoxicating sensation, she surrendered herself to the pleasure of your touch, her body quivering with anticipation of the release that awaited her.
Your tongue explored every inch of her length, while your lips tightened around her shaft, creating a delicious friction that sent waves of pleasure through her.
Yunjin's hips bucked involuntarily, her hands gripping your hair as she surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. Her moans grew louder and more urgent, filling the room with desire and urging you on.
As you continued to pleasure Yunjin, your mouth occupied with sucking and stroking her cock, Chaewon's actions caught you off guard. With a wicked grin, she swiftly whipped out her own cock and began to tug your shorts and panties down, exposing your needy core to the cool air.
"Looks like someone's eager to join in on the fun," Chaewon purred, her voice dripping with lust as she eyed your exposed body hungrily.
You moaned around Yunjin's cock, the sensation of Chaewon's hands on you sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. "Oh, fuck, Chaewon," you gasped, your voice laced with desire, "don't stop."
Chaewon chuckled darkly as she teased your throbbing clit with her fingers, her touch sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. "You're such a needy slut, Y/n," she taunted, her voice low and seductive, "but I love it."
Your breath hitched as Chaewon's fingers dipped lower, teasingly circling your entrance before sliding inside you with ease. "Fuck, Chaewon," you moaned, your words barely coherent as pleasure washed over you in waves.
Meanwhile, Yunjin watched with rapt attention, her own arousal evident as she enjoyed the show unfolding before her. The air crackled with anticipation as the three of you indulged in the forbidden pleasure, lost in the intoxicating haze of desire.
As Chaewon continued to tease and taunt you, her fingers danced along the slick folds of your entrance, eliciting a low whimper of anticipation from you. With a devilish grin, she guided the tip of her cock to your dripping entrance, teasingly rubbing it against your slick folds.
Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation, your body trembling with need as Chaewon teased you mercilessly. "Come on, Y/n," she teased, her voice dripping with desire, "you know you want it."
You moaned in response, your hips instinctively bucking towards her, desperate for more. "Please," you whimpered, your voice pleading, "don't tease me like this."
But Chaewon only chuckled darkly, her eyes glinting with mischief as she continued to tease your entrance with the tip of her cock. "You're such a slut, Y/n," she murmured, her voice a husky whisper, "begging for it like this."
The sensation was almost too much to bear, your body trembling with need as you yearned for her to fill you completely. With a final, torturous tease, Chaewon relented, pushing her cock slowly into you, inch by agonizing inch, until you were filled to the brim with her.
As Chaewon teased and tantalized you with her cock, Yunjin couldn't help but be drawn into the electrifying scene unfolding before her. Her breath quickened as she watched, her own arousal mounting with each passing moment.
With a seductive smirk, Chaewon glanced over at Yunjin, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Why don't you join in, Yunjin?" she purred, her voice filled with desire. "I'm sure Y/n wouldn't mind having both of us to play with."
Yunjin's cheeks flushed with excitement as she nodded eagerly, her hands trembling as she pushed you off with anticipation as she reached out to join in the erotic encounter. With trembling fingers, she began to stroke her own cock, mirroring the rhythm of Chaewon's movements as she teased you with her own.
You gasped in pleasure as Yunjin's hands joined in, the sensation of being pleasured by both of them driving you to new heights of ecstasy. Your body trembled with pleasure as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming sensations, lost in the intoxicating haze of desire.
The room was filled with the sound of your moans and gasps, mingling with the slick sounds of flesh slapping against eachother as the three of you indulged in the forbidden pleasure. With each passing moment, the intensity of your arousal grew, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.
As the pleasure mounted, you could feel yourself teetering on the brink of release, the tantalizing touch of Chaewon and Yunjin pushing you over the edge into blissful oblivion. With a final, ecstatic cry, you succumbed to the overwhelming waves of pleasure, your body convulsing with ecstasy as you reached the pinnacle of pleasure.
Chaewon pounded into you, driving you to new heights of pleasure, Yunjin seized the opportunity to indulge in her own desires. With a hunger in her eyes, she reclaimed your mouth, her lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss.
You moaned into the kiss, your body responding eagerly to her touch as she deepened the kiss, exploring every inch of your mouth with a fervor that left you breathless. Meanwhile, Chaewon's relentless thrusts sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.
With a wicked grin, Yunjin broke the kiss, her eyes glinting with mischief as she pushed you down onto the bed. "Open wide, Y/n," she whispered, her voice husky with desire, "I want to fuck your face."
Without hesitation, she positioned herself above you, her cock poised at your lips as she thrust forward, forcing you to take her into your mouth once again. You eagerly complied, sucking and stroking her with enthusiasm as she face-fucked you with a relentless rhythm.
The sensation was overwhelming, the dual stimulation of Chaewon's thrusts and Yunjin's cock driving you to new heights of pleasure. You moaned around Yunjin's cock, the vibrations sending shivers of ecstasy coursing through her as she drove herself deeper into your mouth.
Lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure, you surrendered yourself completely to the overwhelming sensations, your body trembling with desire as you were consumed by the ecstasy of the moment. With each passing moment, the intensity of your arousal grew, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.
Chaewon continued to thrust into you with unrelenting fervor, the intensity of her movements driving you to the brink of ecstasy, you felt her body tense with impending release. With a sharp cry of pleasure, Chaewon reached her peak, her hips bucking wildly as she spilled her seed deep inside you.
"Fuck, Y/n, you feel so fucking good," Chaewon gasped, her voice filled with ecstasy as she emptied herself into you. "You like that, huh? You like taking my cock deep inside you."
You gasped in pleasure as you felt her hot release filling you, waves of pleasure washing over you as she emptied herself into you completely. "God, yes," you muttered against Yunjins cock, your voice filled with need. "I love it, Chaewon. I love feeling you inside me."
With one final, powerful thrust, Chaewon collapsed against you, spent from the intensity of her climax. "Fuck," she breathed, her voice husky with satisfaction.
Feeling Chaewon's release triggered your own, you cried out in pleasure, your body convulsing with ecstasy as you reached the pinnacle of bliss. The sensation of her cumming inside you sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you over the edge into an explosive climax of your own.
Meanwhile, Yunjin's cock remained in your mouth, her own pleasure evident as she moaned and gasped in response to the erotic scene unfolding before her. With a wicked grin, Chaewon withdrew from you, her fingers finding their way to your needy clit as she began to rub it with expert precision.
"Look at you, Y/n," Chaewon purred, her voice dripping with desire, "so desperate for release. You're such a little slut, aren't you?"
You moaned in response, unable to form coherent words as pleasure washed over you in waves. Chaewon's fingers worked tirelessly, driving you to new heights of ecstasy as she teased and tormented your sensitive clit.
And then, with a sharp cry of release, you reached your climax once again, your body trembling with the force of your release as pleasure consumed you entirely. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and gasps, mingling with the slick sounds of flesh against flesh as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming sensations.
As you and Chaewon basked in the aftermath of your climaxes, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction, Yunjin seized the opportunity to indulge in her own pleasure. With a low, guttural moan, she reached the pinnacle of ecstasy, her body trembling with the force of her release.
Feeling Yunjin's cock throb with the intensity of her climax, you eagerly accepted her into your mouth, welcoming her cum with open lips. You moaned in delight as Yunjin spilled her seed into your waiting mouth, the taste of her release driving you wild.
With each pulse of pleasure, you eagerly drank down every drop of her cum, savoring the taste of her release as it filled your mouth. The sensation of her cum mingling with yours sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, heightening the intensity of your own pleasure.
As Yunjin's climax subsided, you swallowed her seed with a satisfied sigh, relishing the taste of her release as it lingered on your tongue. The room was filled with the sound of your satisfied moans and the slick sounds of flesh against flesh as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming sensations.
As the waves of pleasure subsided, leaving all of you spent and breathless, you collapsed together in a tangled heap on the floor, limbs entwined in a deliciously intimate embrace. The room was filled with the heavy, heady scent of sex, a tangible reminder of the passion that had consumed you all.
"Fuck, that was amazing," Chaewon exclaimed, her voice laced with satisfaction as she caught her breath. A playful laugh escaped her lips as she added, "We should definitely do this again."
You hummed in agreement, a lazy smile gracing your lips as you reveled in the shared moment of intimacy. The rush of endorphins coursing through your veins left you feeling warm and content, your body tingling with the echoes of pleasure.
Beside you, Yunjin blushed at the suggestion, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson. She couldn't bring herself to meet your gaze, but the shy smile that tugged at the corners of her lips spoke volumes.
As the three of you lay there in a blissful post-coital haze, basking in the afterglow of the unforgettable experience, a sense of camaraderie and closeness settled over you like a warm blanket. It was a moment you knew you would cherish forever, a memory that would bind you together in an unbreakable bond of shared pleasure and intimacy.
“Round 2 in my room?”
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stsgluver · 23 days
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Can I get a uhhh...hurt/comfort Choso drabble where he snaps at the reader? Maybe because he's worried about Yuuji or something?
𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐎 — kamo choso
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synopsis. choso's parent's relationship is struggling and he doesn't know how to handle it.
wc. 1.4k
tags. very slight angst, happy ending, yuuji is choso's 10yo half brother, choso and yn are 18-19, both went to the same school, yn is yuuji's tutor, possible ooc choso I've never written for him before
a/n. MY FIRST CHOSO WRITING!! you never specified an au so I did a post-highschool!au-ish. I hope that's okay <33 thank you for requesting!!
2k event
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“can’t you tell i’m busy?” choso uttered through gritted teeth, not even bothering to glance up at you from his sketchbook he was hunched over on his desk. you’d been trying to tell him about the sweet old couple you always saw at the cafe and hadn’t seen for weeks until today. the two of you had become invested in their wellbeing and you’d thought that had been something he would’ve wanted to hear about.
“oh, sorry.” you frowned at how unintentionally pathetic your voice sounded. despite his cold demeanour, choso was probably the, if not the, sweetest person you’d ever met. he was always doting on his younger brother and showing up at your day job unannounced to bring you something whenever you tell him you’re having a bad day.
for all intents and purposes, he was the blueprint, so for him to lash out at you for no explicit reason was the total polar opposite to his usual personality.
“sorry?” choso mocked, leaning his head back to push his hands through his hair which was still damp from showering. still, he seemed more preoccupied with the ceiling than his concerned girlfriend who sat cross-legged on his bed, “geto’s going to be pissed that i’m behind on these designs and you constantly talking in my ear is not helping.”
after graduating, choso had initially taken on an admin role at a small tattoo parlour in town. a couple of months into the role, the owner, geto, had offered him a proper apprenticeship. you’d met geto on a handful of occasions and, from how choso had previously described him, he didn’t seem like the type to be annoyed over a few incomplete designs. especially not considering the additional hours and effort choso always puts into that place.
“you invited me over choso,” you pointed out. it was a sunday and, while you usually have work in the evenings, you’d been given the day off due to staff sickness. your boyfriend’s first message had been to excitedly offer for you to come over and stay the night at his which of course you said yes to.
somewhere between sending you that message and you making the fifteen minute drive to his house, he had a drastic change of heart.
choso sighed, picking up a different pencil to continue his sketch. “well, now i’m uninviting you.”
the bluntness in his tone had you blinking back tears. it was the first time he’d ever been so intentionally dismissive towards you. you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response or an argument, if that was what he was after, and picked up your coat and left his room. 
you hadn’t needed to bring over any clothes or essentials since you’d come over so often his room had designated areas for your spare bits. as upset as he had made you, you weren’t about to scare him with a breakup threat because he was having a bad day and lashing out at you. 
“yn!” yuuji’s bright voice spooked you from your thoughts as you made your way down the stairs and you had to quickly wipe away any tears so as to not worry your boyfriend’s ten year old brother. choso’s golden personality was hidden by dark hair and an introverted front whereas yuuji’s was clear from his pink hair to his loud voice. “are you leaving already? you haven’t even tried my pancakes yet!”
one of yuuji’s incentives to attend the lessons that he didn’t like (ie. anything that wasn’t sport) was for him and choso to make homemade pancakes together. it was a weekly thing that you usually missed because of work and yuuji had been jumping up and down when he had found out you’d be there this evening.
your heart broke a little more at the fact you’d now be upsetting him.
“sorry yuuji,” his little face dropped slightly, bounce in his step gone as he clasped his hands together. you gently rubbed his shoulder, “i’ll be here for friday?”
yuuji scrunched up his nose. “that’s so long away!” it was also the day he’d be sat at the kitchen island with you for several hours doing catch up on his classes.
yuuji was the reason why you and choso had reconnected after graduating school – because when you agreed to tutor a student how could you have known that itadori yuuji was kamo choso’s little brother? you’d never been close in school so you hadn’t even known he had any relatives.
“i’ll bring you a treat,” you promised, making your way out of the house after saying a quick goodbye to his parents. 
the pouring down rain coupled with the ever flowing tears that stained your cheeks meant you had to stop your car several times on the way home just to ensure you wouldn’t crash. each and every time you checked your phone to see if he’d sent you a message, apologising and asking you to come back (which you would have in a heartbeat). there never was.
you didn’t see choso for the rest of the week – not until friday, your usual tutoring session with yuuji. 
he had messaged you a couple times, asking about your day and sending you several pictures of tattoos he had done himself which you always responded to quickly. but the conversations were short and filled with unanswered questions.
most days that you didn’t sleep around his, the two of you would call until one of you fell asleep. for the last five nights both of you had made excuses for why you couldn’t call. 
your relationship was still fairly new and this was the first spat that you had had. neither of you really knew how to cope with the aftermath or even the initial falling out. you missed your boyfriend, though, and you couldn’t avoid this forever.
“is yuuji here?”
you’d knocked twice before the door had been opened by choso. he looked just as tired as you felt (you’d done your best to cover it up with a bit of concealer and highlighter), and his shoulder length hair was messily framing his face. the hoodie he wore was a matching one that you had still hung up in your wardrobe at home.
“no,” choso shook his head, “he’ll be back from fushiguro’s kids in about fifteen.”
yuuji had spoken about megumi a lot to you – his best friend in the whole world, he’d described him as. he told you he’d bring him around one day to meet you.
“okay,” you said slowly and there was an awkward silence that settled between the two of you. on a friday night whilst you were with yuuji, their parents went out for their weekly date night, so right now it was just choso in his house and you at the doorstep. you take a step back, “i can just wait in my car till–”
“i think my parents are splitting up,” choso said quickly – almost too quickly for you to understand – and his eyes dropped down to the ground below, avoiding your worried gaze. “friday date nights are now for marriage counselling,” he continued when you didn’t say anything, still in shock from the confession, “jin… he’s a good guy, but my mum is stressed with work and–”
“and she’s taking it out on the people closest to her.”
choso picked his head up and there was an unspoken understanding that that was what had happened on sunday. he looked guilty as he nodded.
choso and yuuji were half brothers – choso’s dad had up and left when he was only a couple of years old and his mum had had to single-handedly rebuild their life. he didn’t want yuuji to have to experience any of the hardships he did in his broken family.
“i’m sorry for hurting you. i don’t want to lose you too,” your boyfriend apologised and you made the first step on closing the gap to wrap your arms around his waist. he smelt like home, you realised, nestling your face into his hoodie, and you didn’t want to go five whole days without him again.
you lifted your head up to press one kiss to the corner of his lips, “we’ll get through this together, no matter what happens.”
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wlntrsldler · 1 month
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jamie tartt late night ramblings (jamie tarttt x reader)
based on this screenshot from tiktok:
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it was roy who noticed it first. your name seemed to leave jamie’s lips often— too often, like he was just saying it just to say it. you would be brought back to every conversation, every hint and whisper of a recollection, your name rolled off jamie’s tongue constantly.
roy had an “over or under” bet with keeley the next day. he bet that your name would leave jamie’s lips at least 50 times; keeley who didn’t realize just how often jamie brought you up (she was just happy to see him happy, content) scoffed and said there was no way. she lost the bet. (jamie said your name 53 times that day)
sam noticed it after the pair. he sat next to jamie on the way to manchester and he forgot his headphones (rookie mistake) and found himself on the receiving end of jamie’s babbles about date night at his apartment. sam, who grew up watching the love of his wonderful parents, felt something familiar tugging in his chest. it was the same feeling that bloomed when he got older, when the sweet words and innocent kisses his parents shared in front of him were no longer repulsive to his teenage brain, but rather something fond, something soft.
he indulged jamie in the conversation and offered a table at ola’s for next thursday. jamie beamed at him (sam had never seen him smile like that, not even when they moved back to the premier league or finished second) and thanked him profusely because you had been talking about wanting to eat at ola’s again.
“there’s just no time,” you complained, offhandedly. “between my work and your training schedule and games, i feel like we don’t get to have a restaurant dinner anymore. i miss ola’s.”
jamie would change the way time worked if you asked him to.
jan mass was the next person to notice it. him being the blunt dutchman nonchalantly asked jamie why he talked about you so much. at first, jamie was taken aback by the question. does he talk about you that much? jan quickly followed up by saying he meant no offense by this (this, jamie knew. he’d known jan too long to take offense) and said he was genuinely curious.
what jamie wanted to say was, if anyone had grown up the way he did, with the father he had, with the constant pressure of living up to an impossible standard, with the struggle of having to decide to either be a great footballer or a great man (he will be the first to admit, he chose wrong the first time, but he learned from you that he should give himself some grace. nobody is perfect in their early twenties, after all) anyone would probably talk about you as much as he did.
to jamie, you made his life so much better. sprinkles of beauty here and there from your whispers of “good mornings” when you rolled over to kiss him when you woke up in his bed; or when you would pitch the tone of your voice up to coo at a puppy walking down the street; or when you would drop coins in the tip jars at cafes while you mindlessly chatted with the baristas.
everywhere you went, there were marks of you that lingered there; in the smile of a stranger you complimented, the giggles of a child when you lean down to fix the bow in their hair; the scent of your perfume that stayed when you hugged a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. those little things made the world that much better.
jamie felt he was being selfish keeping you to himself, absorbing your love so much that sometimes he felt guilty that the rest of the world was deprived of it; so in his own way, whenever he spoke your name into conversations, into interactions, into the ether, he believed he was doing the world a favor, giving them a glimpse of the beauty that you added to the world.
but he thought that this was too much to say to jan mass in the middle of the locker room. so jamie simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “i dunno. i didn’t even realize i do it.”
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