#and then PANIC WHERE'S OUR BABY
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#thewitcheredit#yenraltedit#yenralt#the witcher netflix#the witcher spoilers#geralt x yennefer#yarpen zigrin#geralt x ciri x yennefer#the witcher#not spn#my edit#straight out of a fic#loved this#the way he smiiiiiles when he wakes up to her#and then PANIC WHERE'S OUR BABY
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Random Johnny and Marcus Headcanons for the Human AU
Marcus and Johnny would cook together a lot when Johnny was young, mainly with Johnny sitting on the counter holding the recipe book for his dad to read.
Marcus’s nicknames for Johnny are John-song and John-bird, which come from his wife’s nickname for their son, songbird.
When Johnny gets night terrors, he will go sit with his dad til he’s calmed down enough to go back to sleep. He typically ends up falling asleep where-ever that turned out to be and Marcus still carries him to bed.
Marcus still carries an inhaler in case Johnny has a really bad panic attack again, even though the last one that severe was years ago. He also brings noise cancelling headphones everywhere in case Johnny gets sensory overload.
Johnny inherited his dad’s tendency to get awkward in suddenly emotional or intense situations.
They both are very dramatic in the reactions to things.
Marcus called Johnny duck as a nickname when he was really little and now he does it in really intense situations to calm him down.
Marcus does still remember a bit of piano from his wife and will help Johnny out when he’s struggling.
Johnny helped his dad and uncles set up social media soon after they got out of jail. The first person Marcus followed was Johnny and he immediately went through and liked all his posts.
Marcus has a ton of books on parenting and raising/being supportive of your kids that he reads constantly.
Johnny tells his dad pretty much everything, including set gossip.
Marcus is in a groupchat with the other parents in the New Moon Theatre Troupe.
Marcus and Johnny both are fluent in Hindi and use it as a way to just talk to each other one on one in public without other people listening in.
Marcus is constantly hugging his son and tells him that he loves hims and is proud of him every chance he gets after the disaster that happened in Sing 1.
They started family therapy together after the whole disowning issue and are doing so much better that it’s surprised even their therapist.
Marcus has an alert set on his phone for every time Johnny is mentioned in a web article and he reads every single one. He even hangs his favourites around the garage and will show off videos of Johnny to customers.
#sing#sing 2#sing johnny#sing marcus#sing big daddy#Marcus is a good dad y'all#he just made a mistake and is now working through it with Johnny#my favorite father son duo#theyre perfect#*holds gently*#just look at the babies#and the hug thing is essentially canon at this point#marcus pretends to not really care about the set gossip but he looks forward to hearing whats new#johnny calls his dad everyday#marcus swears his mother is where he got his flair of dramatics from. johnny does not believe him#the parent groupchat is mainly *who's picking up the kids today* or *WHAT THE HELL IS MOON DRAGGING OUR CHILDREN INTO NOW?!?!?!*#theyre in therapy#theyre healing#johnny has a panic disorder#autistic johnny
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#one of my best friends just texted me she gave birth today#and her baby is beautiful and healthy and so is she and I’m so happy for her#and I will be the best rebel aunt this child is gonna need#and she texted me before she told any of our friends#the text was the most her thing too and nothing like those standard baby announcements. bless her at least that hasn’t changed#so yk. all. Good.#but also.#this is baby number two while our third friend just announced his gf is pregnant too#and I am starting to panic a little bit#because what?#what do you mean we are in the life phase where we are bringing new life to the world?#I don’t feel like MY life has started yet? I’m still waiting for my own to pick up where I need?#and I know that’s the sweet combination of mental illness + being queer + burn out + pandemic talking#making it feel like. idk. I lost years cumulatively#and naturally I would Never say any of this to my oh so happy friends#but I’m…………………#bro what I was not prepared for this??????????#and not this emotion in general#genuinely want to burst into tears#(1) pregnancy is a fluke#(2) is a coincidence#but (3) is a pattern#so this is where we’re at now and we’re never getting those years back#and I’ll be here just trying to figure out why the fuck I’m stuck in the past when everyone else is Living#anyways.#cant BELIEVE one of my LONGEST friends just GAVE BIRTH TO A HUMAN BEING#WH A T??????#like . WHAT#even without all my complicated feelings about this that is WILD and INCOMPREHENSIBLE TO MY BRAIN
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NPD BPD combo will make you feel like a starving wild circus animal every time you remember other people exist
#ok to rb#vent tw#it's like. we have a member who has NPD proper as cohost now#so our BPD and NPD symptoms have been combined into one worse thing#and it's baby's first Real Narc Crash and Ive been having RSD inflicted panic attacks every day#and I'm getting really fucking exhausted so the point where Im thinking stuff like 'I wish I could kms rn but that'd be too shitty and I#know this shit has to get better eventually because it has before so Im just#trying to relax#and in this case it's not like I have imo a compelling reason like my friends are all paying a proportionate amount of attention to me#to the energy for friends they have to give like I'm not being NEGLECTED#but I am so attention starved it's actually insane#and if it were just that itd be fine but I'm pmsing and Ive been losing sleep#from a mix of medical issues and exotraumatic nightmares#so I'm just. I'm absolutely Fucking Miserable#and its nobodies fault so instead of getting pissed off at someone Im just pissed off at everyone and no one at the same time#I just want to feel special again but its like. even if I DID feel comfortable asking for more attention#1. It wouldn't feel genuine and nothing my friends could easily do would stop it from not feeling genuine#2. I've been cluster B long enough to know that this stuff has to sort itself out naturally#asking for vallidation can be good at the right times but when I'm wanting to rely on it most thats when I need to find something else#but genuinely IDFK anymore man like I'm too tired to do shit I feel like all of my energy this month has been#STOPPING myself from doing stuff so when I try and think about what I actually Want To Do I feel so obstructed and exhausted I feel like#there's nothing fulfilling rn bc my stupid ass brain is like why find joy in anything if everyone hates you and you don't matter#(<- literally no one in my life has even implied this but. that's just how mental illness goes sometimes)#I just need to hang on until this narc crash is over and my friend groups aren't in the middle of like#2 million different things we're all struggling with stopping us from hanging out very much#I do think this happens every winter though#Ironically I love the winter weather and the rain and cold and gray (idk if I have SAD but if I do it's for the summer)#but I never enjoy the season like I want to because it's the most busy time of year so everyone is stressed out and doesn't have much time#to vibe like I want to so I end up just feeling pretty miserable until the slow time of year when people can relax more#It's usually like
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KITTEN, BEHAVE ☆
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ there are consequences to teasing your biker boyfriend...
⋆。°✩ semi-public s/ex, fem!reader, biker!sylus, reader wears a skirt, reader's a nasty gal <3, undertones of dom/sub (sylus is one kinky mf), finger sucking, finger gagging, petnames (kitten, baby), fucking on his bike (hehe), c/um countdown, unprotected s/ex (wrap it up babes), sylus matches our freak perfectly, based on this thot i had
⋆。°✩ dawn says: i've been a nasty girl ive been a nasty girl nasty nasty (sorry zayne)
Sylus isn’t one to find beauty in the mundane but the wind whipping past his frosty locks and your arms wrapped tightly around him makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine.
“Kitten, are you alright?” he calls over the lashing breeze.
His leather jacket is ridiculously thick, but even through the material, he can feel the heat of your cheeks seeping through.
You always flush whenever he calls you your favorite pet name, and Sylus forgets that just like a kitten, you can be just as playful.
A slender hand tipped with French nails slides down his torso, leaving blistering heat in its wake. The thin compression shirt he’s wearing under his jacket can barely fight off the warmth of your palm bleeding past the material and onto his skin.
His heart doubles in speed, and in response, he revs the N-907 Ultrabike, its wheels kicking up more dirt and dust. Linkon City speeds into a blur, White Coves’ beaches in the distance and to his right, Bloom Forest spreads her velvety green arms open for adventurous outdoor lovers to play in.
Your hand trickles down his abs, stealing his attention back to your whims, and he smirks behind his visor when he feels your dainty, pretty little palm resting on the front of his pants.
Looks like the little kitten wants to play a dangerous game.
Two can play the same.
Sylus pretends to ignore you, and he can tell it only frustrates you more when he remains stone cold and unmoving; a statue you’re trying to thaw.
Your free hand creeps under the hem of his shirt, and thank fuck the wind is too loud because a groan slips past his clenched teeth—it would be absolutely embarrassing if you heard it. His mind works doubly hard to focus on not crashing the bike, maneuvering it down the winding steep roads.
“I thought you said you wanted to take me for a ride,” your voice touches his heated ears, innocent and alluring.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing, kitten?” He tilts his head back slightly and hears your snort.
Your antics will never cease to amaze him. Whatever possessed you to be bold also eggs you on to be audacious. Your hands travel further up his shirt, pressing right onto his broad pecs and you smirk when you feel the bike wobbling slightly under his control.
“Kitten,” he hisses. “Stop it.”
But, you don’t listen to him. You never do.
This insolent prey. He tries his damndest not to buck his hips when you start to rub his bulge, merciless with your teasing. Your other hand reaches up to his neck, where his favorite leather collar sits prettily on his defined clavicles, and tug on it, earning another hiss.
The bike skids to a stop and you’re not sure how you ended up pushed against the pillion seat, Sylus looming over you. He kills the engine and kicks down the stand, the sudden deafening silence exacerbating your heavy breathing.
“Wait,” you squeak, and he shakes his head.
“No more waiting. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Looking around in a panic, you notice that he’s parked the bike under a secluded shade of trees, next to an empty strip of road.
This was the same route you took to the edge of the N-109 when you were given the mission to retrieve Sylus a few months ago.
“Familiar, isn’t it?” He reads your mind with a dark chuckle.
Those ruby red eyes bore into yours with the grace of a predator provoked, and you, his favorite prey, will finally get what you’ve been asking for.
“I think it’s high time we recreated some memories from the first night we both saw each other,” he drags his palm up your bare thigh, making you shiver. “It’s a good thing you’re in a pretty little skirt, kitten,” he hums, pushing the hem of your leather mini skirt—a gift from him—out of the way.
Sylus inhales sharply when he notices the micro thong you’re wearing which barely covers anything, his nostrils flaring.
“Insufferable.”
“Sy,” you whine, unsure what he's waiting for. It's never like him to play with his food.
The press of his bigger body on top of yours cages you to the pillion seat, the friction burning when he unceremoniously drags you closer to him.
Those intense eyes seem to devour you, and for the first time since you’ve been together with him, you see a shadow of his villainous evil in them.
“Is this what you wanted?”
Is this what you’ve been begging for?
Sylus wraps a hand around your throat in broad daylight, not caring for morals or decency when he squeezes. Hard.
Your eyes roll back into your head, regret streaming in for how you teased him earlier.
“A-ah—” you choke lightly. “Was jus’ tryna play around.”
Sylus ignores your whimpers, a bored look on his face as he loosens his fingers, letting you suck in a wheezy breath.
“Little hunters never learn their lessons, do they?”
He smirks unexpectedly.
“Remember that night you tried to tame me during our interrogation? In the end, I was the one who had you screaming, didn’t I, kitten?”
You did remember—of course, you did.
The shine of your boots spreading his kneeling thighs apart. Leather collar around a pale strip of throat you just wanted to suck on and leave a mark. His smug leers, those glowing ruby eyes that shone like dying embers when he finally snaps off the handcuffs you placed him in and pins you to the ground for a taste of your own medicine.
As much as you hate to confront the truth, it stares you down with an impassive face and dark eyes—a truth that breaks the delusion that you were the one in control when it came to Sylus.
He touches your thighs, spreads them further. Bright sunlight speckles through the trees, casting webs of shadows across his crooked nose and high cheekbones.
Sylus takes his time to peel your thong off, and you bite down on your lip to muffle a whimper.
“What? Don't tell me you're all shy now?”
He snorts in amusement at your attempts to be innocent, prying your lower lip free, stroking the curve of your plush mouth with his thumb until you relent and suck on his digit docilely.
While you’re not inexperienced when it comes to such carnal submission, it’s the first time you’re doing it outside of the bedroom where anyone could stumble upon the both of you.
The thought makes your thighs tense and your needy pussy clench down on thin air, something that Sylus doesn’t miss.
“You like this, huh? Being slutted out so publicly… it turns you on to be so open to me.”
He continues to push his thumb around your mouth; pressing down on your gums, flicking the tip of your tongue, inspecting the ridges and juts of each pearly white tooth. Intentionally drawing out your humiliation.
Satisfied with the oral inspection, he removes his thumb, swiftly stuffing your protests with two thick fingers.
“You say ‘no’, but I can smell that sweet little cunt getting wetter,” he murmurs, flitting his dark gaze right to your folds flushing readily with need; right to that cleft which houses his favorite hole.
Lewd doesn’t begin to cover how Sylus can treat you in bed. Outside the sheets, he’s content to play the role of your partner and friend, tagging along on your adventures and explorations.
But the second he has you trapped in his bed, he becomes a different person.
Meaner. Assertive.
Downright cruel.
“Do you want me to touch you?” He goads, locks of silver hair falling across his damp forehead. Sweat dews across your chest, and you feel the heat of shame rising in you.
Sylus, I was just joking, you try to argue, but he’s not hearing it.
“Didn’t seem like a joke when you were pawing at my cock earlier, kitten,” your lover hums, unable to take his half-mast red eyes off of you.
He slots a hand between your thighs, and you swallow a cry when he drags your thong to the side, spreading your wetness around roughly with his thumb. Sylus rubs tight circles on your aching clit, forcing you to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.
“Ssh,” he whispers when you give a tiny, choked cry. Sylus takes this chance to nuzzle your neck, inhaling your scent like a starved man. “We don’t want anyone to find us out, don’t we, kitten?”
Evil, evil man. You bite on the inside of your palm to keep quiet when he lifts one leg to wrap around his narrow waist, effortlessly tugging his zipper down and freeing his cock.
“One single sound and I will stop, do I make myself clear?”
There’s no choice but for you to nod. Sylus doesn’t waste a single second once he’s got you all nice and wet for him, grasping the base of his girthy and veiny length, stroking it a few times to make sure he’s hard and ready for you.
The thick tip breaches past your tight ring of muscle, and you bite down on a sharp gasp, squeezing your eyes close.
His breathing is getting heavier, and he curses the second he bottoms out in your tight heat.
The bike begins to shake with every clean stroke, his thrusts making your toes curl and heels dig into his back. Luckily, the pillion seat is wide enough to accommodate your shaking bodies; never imagining for a single second that your lover would be boldly fucking you on it in the middle of a dangerous zone.
But, Sylus has always been like this—addictive, painful.
Dangerous.
How he fucks you is no different.
The blunt head touches the deepest spot inside of you, and you’re helpless to do anything but cling onto him like second skin, muffling your whines into his broad shoulder.
“Looks like the little kitten is enjoying her cream,” he murmurs, trailing his gaze down your body taking him so well.
The veins on the back of his hands stand out, drawing your attention to him dragging the front of your blouse down, tucking your bra cups under your heaving breasts.
Sylus’ mouth wraps around one turgid bud, sucking it till it’s shiny with his spit and throbbing from oversensitivity.
He repeats the same motion on your neglected nipple, savoring your hitched breaths and muffled whines.
Your thighs start to shake, and you turn your head to the side.
Look at you, he coos and grabs your chin, forcing you to gaze at the spot between your thighs where he’s fucking into you. Look at how well you’re taking me.
You’re so wet that droplets of white are trickling down your inner thighs, frothing into stickiness where his cock is rutting shallowly inside of you.
“Sy,” you moan softly, eyes glossing over with tears of pleasure.
He loves how needy and pathetic you look for him with your swollen, parted mouth and tight nipples just begging to be pinched or flicked.
A furrow creases between his brows, drops of sweat trickling down his jaw.
You surprise him by leaning forward, flattening your tongue and lapping it right up, shameless in your desire for him.
“Naughty girl,” Sylus purrs, his red eyes darkening to an impossible black until you’re sure not a shred of your sweet boyfriend remains. Two thick fingers part your mouth open, sliding down your welcoming throat until he’s knuckle-deep in you.
Sylus chokes you out as his other hand trails down your body towards your clit, rubbing the flushed nub until your hips buck and you cry out; a master at bringing your body closer to the pleasurable brink.
The tears beading in your lash line finally freefall down your face, triggering his devilish satisfaction.
Returning the favor, Sylus licks them clean, chuckling cruelly at the arousal turning you cross-eyed.
He loves it when you look this fucked out, and one day when you’re comfortable enough, he hopes you’ll relent to him taking a picture of that messed up, pretty face for his safekeeping.
Baby, you gurgle around his fingers. I’m close…
Yeah? He goads. Gonna break for me? Come on this cock? Make a mess? Fuck—do it baby. Mess me up. Make me feel so good because that’s all you’re good for, huh?
He grits his teeth, fighting back the cresting pleasure, needing you to come first.
Come on, baby. Come with me. Five… four… three… that’s it, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you. Don’t come until I reach zero. Fuck—that pussy’s so tight. Two… one… fuck, fuck.
High strung keens are escaping past the cracks of his fingers stuffed in your mouth, your entire body shaking violently that Sylus thinks you’re being wrecked by an internal earthquake.
Zero. Zero. Fuck, baby. Come for me. Come on, give it to me. Give me that sweet cum. Yeah, that’s it, that’s it—
He grunts, his patience breaking, flooding inside of you in waves of heat; filling you up to the brim.
In this moment of weakness where anyone targeting him can put a bullet right through his head, Sylus thinks that if he dies right now, he would do so happily in your arms.
His forehead gently thumps onto yours and you must be as fucked up as him because you push his hair back, scratching his scalp lightly.
Your sculpted, 6’2 menace of a lover who’s seen death and destruction since the day he could speak, groans and nuzzles your cheek like a weak puppy. With every version of Sylus that you have seen before, this will always be your favorite one—where he’s comfortable enough to kiss you affectionately, bringing you down from the high.
He hums. “Satisfied?”
Sylus would never say he loves you out loud—that’s not in his nature.
But, his actions scream louder than words when he adjusts your rumpled clothes and gives you a peck on your cheek.
“Do you still want to visit that mad scientist or should we scrap it for another day?”
The implicit invitation tempts you.
A boring lecture or a whole day spread out on my sheets, kitten?
“Let’s go home,” you choose the latter, and Sylus tries his hardest to hide his smug smile when you refer to his penthouse as your own home.
“Of course. But, for the sake of not violating any more public decency laws, you better keep your paws to yourself until we get home, kitten.”
Proving your disobedience and your unwillingness to learn your lesson, you sink two fingers under his collar, dragging him close enough for your lips to touch.
“That depends on if you can get us home fast enough, Sy.”
He takes it as a challenge, a grin touched with a hint of lunacy splitting across his face.
“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?”
“No, I—”
He pulls you into a kiss, devouring your breaths until your lungs are filled with nothing but him, him, him.
His fingers in your hair, an arm wound tightly around your waist so his favorite prey can never escape him. Sylus breaks off the kiss, ruby eyes like two bloody pools when he stares at your warm cheeks and puffy mouth.
“You should know I always—always—win our petty bets.”
— feedback and reblogs are appreciated luvs <33
©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or translate to another site
#🦢 writes#sylus love and deepspace#sylus x reader#sylus smut#lnds smut#sylus qin#lnds sylus#sylus x you#sylus drabbles#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#lnds#sylus#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace mc#love and deepspace x reader#divider by @/ 0clu#tw unprotected sex#tw public sex#tw dark content
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the slip up l lando norris x reader
request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream
author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.
Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time.
“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair.
“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next.
“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare.
—————
A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute.
I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends.
I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress.
Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile.
Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement.
“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream.
When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream.
I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend.
I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.
“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.
I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips.
He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.
“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle.
“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”
“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side.
“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.
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calm - Matt Sturniolo
summary: after a terrible day of arguing with your boyfriend, accidentally breaking your favorite perfume, and now your hair and outfit not going to plan, all your emotions hit you at once and matt has to calm you down.
contains: fluff, crying, arguing, comforting!matt.
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10:38am
i huff angrily as i tug up my knotty hair into a ponytail, my arms burn while i attempt to tie the elastic around my thick hair. suddenly the elastic snaps, pinging my hand almost in a mocking way.
"oh for fucks sake!" i whine, throwing my fact into my hands as i reach for the hair gel.
i plop more on the top of my head, my hands now sticky and my whole body sweating. i finally get my hair up into a ponytail, but it looks like total shit.
i sigh before stomping out of the bathroom into matt and i's shared room, i swing open the door and ignore matt as i reach for the closet.
matt and i have argued a record amount of times today, it's almost impressive.
flashback:
it was 6 in the morning, and i rolled over onto matt accidentally.
he shoots up in bed as i lay my body weight on his arm, "ow! ow get the fuck off!" he says in a pissy mood, i drift awake slowly as matt shoves me off him.
"matt come on." i groan, grabbing my shoulder from where he just shoved me off of him. "dont say come on like you didn't just break my fucking arm and wake me up at 6am in one sweep."
"i'm not that heavy matt, don't be stupid." i scoff, rolling over in bed to the edge of the mattress, a good meter away from him.
"yes you are, your fully body weight was on my arm." he says with an attitude,
"so you're calling me fat?" i ask angrily,
"dude, just go get out of here." matt demands, pointing towards the door, the nickname stinging a little bit.
"its my room matt, i'll stay right here, not my fault your acting like a child." i raise my voice, slamming my body down onto the mattress and tugging the covers up over me, my back facing matt.
i wasn't expecting matt to leave, but he did. he shot up out of bed and grabbed his pillow, he walked swiftly out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him
and i think that set the mood for the whole day, because now 4 hours have passed and we’ve argued about matt being lazy, me leaving out dishes, him ignoring me, and me apparently being a brat.
-
i sort through our closet, tugging out a small skirt and one of matt's shirt.
"did i say you could borrow that?" matt speaks from the edge of the bed, my head snaps round to look at him.
"stop matt!" i almost yell, which shuts matt up quickly.
i storm back into the bathroom, i hear matt laugh slightly from behind me.
i tear off my pyjamas, and tug up the tiny skirt. as i go to zip up the sides the zipper pops off.
and that will do it.
i erupt into a loud sob, which quickly escalates into floods of tears.
i hear some movement coming from matt and i’s room before the bathroom door swings open, matt takes one look at me and his face drops.
i don’t want to look at him, or for matt to see me like this.
“hey- hey what’s going on sweetheart?” matt says, panic clear in his voice as he reaches for the side of my face.
i shake my head as more and more tears flow down my flushed cheeks.
he wraps his arms around me and i bury my face in the fabric of his shirt.
i let out shaky breaths as i attempt to calm myself down, my body shaking in matt’s arms.
“come- come to the bedroom.” he whispers into my hair before picking me up by my ass.
i nod as i bury my face into his shoulder, matt carries me into our air conditioned bedroom and plops me down on the edge of the bed.
my legs dangle of the edge of the matress, matt sits down right beside me, the matress shifting under his weight.
he wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer to him as i continue to cry.
“what’s going on baby.” matt says softly, rubbing my back.
i crawl over and sit myself down on matt’s lap, straddling him.
he grabs the sides of my face with two hands, his thumbs wiping my tears delicately.
“you- you’re mad at me.” i squeeze out with a loud voice crack
matt’s eyebrows furrow, but i continue to speak “and- and i don’t look good.. like my hair and outfit.” i sniff
matt plants a kiss to my swollen lips, he grabs my chin, making me look at him.
“i would never be mad at you princess, sometimes people fight and that’s okay, but what happened today wasn’t worth fighting for.” matt says while looking into my eyes
“and you look absolutely gorgeous, honestly.” matt says, his eyes gazing over my face.
“i didn’t mean to wake you up this morning- i promise.” i sob, letting my head fall onto matt’s shoulder.
“you know i’m grumpy in the mornings don’t you, it’s not your fault, and i’m so sorry for making you feel like it was.” matt sighs, rubbing my back soothingly.
i sit on his lap in silence for a couple minutes as i take in sharp breaths.
i feel matts chest rise and fall against mine, i attempt to copy his breathing.
“my skirt broke earlier.” i say lightly, lifting my face away from matt’s shoulder.
“did it?” matt asks, his head tilting down as his long fingers inspect my skirt.
i nod, pointing to the broken zip. “i’ll get you another one tomorrow, how about that?” he speaks with a small smile.
“you don’t have to do that.” i breathe, “i’m gonna do it anyway as an apology for how i acted today.” he protests.
“let’s get you out of that skirt then if it’s broken.” matt suggests, picking me up again and walking me over the the closet.
he pulls out a pair of his sweatpants and brings me back over to the bed, matt places me down on the edge of the bed and bends down.
his hands tug down the hem of my skirt, pulling it down my thighs.
he purses his lips out of concentration before tugging the sweatpants up my legs.
he stands back up “you want your hair out?” he asks,
“it’s gonna be crunchy if i take it out, because of the amount of gel i put in.. but it’s also tugging on my scalp like crazy.”
“i’ll wash your hair later for you.” matt smiles, he’s always loved washing my hair for some reason.
i wipe my face, flustered by his words.
“do you want some water?” he asks, i rub my puffy eyes with a nod.
he walks over to me and grabs my hand, tugging me up off the bed. matt walks me out of our room into the corridor.
i follow closely behind him as we walk down the corridor into the kitchen.
i stand next to the counter top, matt walks over to me and grabs me under my armpits before lifting me up onto the countertop.
he grabs a cup and fills it up with cold water before walking over to me.
he holds it up to my lips, “and… open.” he says, i open my mouth slightly and matt pours some water into my mouth,
he accidentally pours too much, my cheeks hollowing out as i lock eyes with him.
i let out a loud laugh, spraying the water all over his shirt.
i slam a hand over my mouth as the water leaks down my chin.
“oh- my god.” matt erupts into laughter, both of our laughs filling the room.
“i am so sorry-“ i say in between giggles.
“how did that even happen-“ matt rubs his eyes with a wide smile,
“i’m so sorry- i don’t even know-“ i laugh,
but i’m cut off by his soft lips pressed against mine.
“i love you.” he mutters against my lips with a grin,
“i love you more.”
——
@gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @mattybsgf @stupid4sturniolo @lydi2718 @chrisstopherfilmed2 @flosslikeabosss @zturndq @skysturniolo @jetaimevous @sturniolo04 @luxy-nyx @aliceloveschris @livvy4realll @chrissturnsss @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72
#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo
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That's Life - M.S
A.N: After the stream where Matt said he liked the name June– which has been a name on my baby list for YEARS now – I couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, so I decided to write it. Sorry if it's bad. (I'd also say they are still very young in this, maybe 23/24. But imagine any age you want, I don't really specify.) Hope you enjoy!
summary: dad!matt - a cute snippet of Matt and y/n becoming brand new parents and Chris and Nick meeting their niece for the first time. mainly fluff :')
warnings: none, really. maybe swearing and mentions of blood? (also use of y/n because apparently that is hated? idk)
word count: 2.4k
--
"Kid, hold her fucking neck." Matt panics as Chris readjusts in his seat on the couch.
"Matt shut the fuck up, I think I know how to hold my own niece." he retorts.
"No, you clearly don't you idiot."
I peer to my left, he holds her with one hand under her head and one hand under her butt, propping her in front of him on his lap. She's perfectly fine, Matt just worries.
"Look she's fine. She's with uncle Chris." Chris looks at her adoringly but Matt cautiously watches, biting his nails.
"How are you feeling?" Nick asks beside me, rubbing my shoulder as I eat my burger. I was starving and the first thing I wanted after giving birth was In and Out, so Matt made sure Nick and Chris brought it for me.
"I'm so tired but just relieved everything went okay."
It was a long labor, almost 20 hours and about an hour of pushing. I waited to the very last minute to get an epidural and Matt almost passed out once he saw what it actually was.
-
"That goes in your fucking spine?" He squeaks, his face turning pale as he nearly keels over.
I'm sat up with the anesthesiologist behind me prepping the needle. I grab Matt's forearms and bring him to stand between my legs so he's hunching in front of me before I collapse my head into his chest and groan.
"Don't fucking look at it, hold my hands." I seethe through the pain as I wait for the contraction to pass.
"I'm so sorry," He says into my ear as they stick the catheter into my spine and I stay as still as possible.
"I want In and Out after this is all over," I breath out, beginning to feel my lower half go numb.
"I'm getting you whatever you fucking want, sweetheart." He looks me dead in the eyes.
-
"It's kinda fucking nuts that she was just inside you, how the fuck did you like..." Chris speaks up looking between the baby and me. "Push her out..." He hesitates and I burst out laughing as Matt throws his arms up and shakes his head at him, stopping himself from knocking Chris' shoulder.
"Well, it wasn't easy." I wipe my tears from my eyes due to my laughter and Nick gives me my water so I don't choke on my dry ass fries.
"Women are the strongest people on the planet." Nick chimes and Matt smiles proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.
"That's fucking right. So much respect after all I witnessed." Matt rubs his eyes, seeming to be mentally reflecting the past 36 hours.
"She's so fucking cute, looks nothing like Matt." Chris comments, a small smirk growing on his face at the playful jab.
"Okay, give her back you're pissing me off." Matt quickly but gently takes her back even as Chris protests and pouts, sulking back into his chair.
"Lost your baby holding privileges," Nick points at him as Chris makes a face and sticks his tongue out, a throaty bellow echoing in the hospital room.
Nick immediately hushes him. "Can you not act like a barbarian? Fucking idiot." He scolds him.
Matt cradles her softly and my heart still melts at the sight of him holding her. It makes everything I went through so worth it. The both of them do.
-
I lay there in shock with a wailing baby placed on my chest. I look up at Matt on my left and he's got his hand over his mouth and tears brimming his eyes, staring at our baby with so much love.
My chest blooms with warmth and I look down at our daughter. Anyone else would look at her and think she was gross, being purple, covered in goop and blood, but she was quite literally breathtaking. Matt blubbers and bends down so he's more level to me.
"Oh my fucking god," he laughs through his emotion, wiping his eyes quickly and placing a hand on her blanketed back, her cries dying down.
"How the fuck did you do that? You're amazing oh my god." He rambles, kissing my sweaty hairline and I shake my head not really knowing how I did this either.
They let Matt cut the umbilical cord before taking her off me to bathe her quickly.
Matt grabs my face checking in on me. He scans all over my face,"You okay? You did so good, oh my fucking god." I nod quickly, feeling my adrenaline still rushing. It's a weird feeling to describe, but I am so happy.
"She was so tiny, did you see her?" I ask him, my voice a little shaky and he nods laughing, tears still shining in his eyes.
"I did, I did. She's perfect. Thank you." He kisses my lips this time and then looks over to the nurses bringing her over to him.
"You want to hold her, dad?" The nurse smiles and he visibly pales but nods nonetheless and takes her into his arms.
He looks at her and begins to tear up again, having to compose himself by looking up shaking his head. When he looks back at me, I'm sent me over the edge into my own fit of tears.
I would relive this day over and over again to just see that look on his face.
-
He walks over to Nick who's still beside me, bouncing her slightly.
"Nick, cmon. You've yet to hold her." Matt nods toward Nick to take her from his arms. Nick immediately shakes his head and steps back.
"No she's too fresh and tiny. I don't want to break her." He declines.
"Chris get him the pillow. Nick, hold her. You won't break her I promise you." I give him a reassuring rub on the arm and his eyes widen.
"I'm scared," He squeals quietly as he sits down in the chair and Chris sets up the pillow in his lap. Nick covers his mouth as he watches Matt walk over to him.
Chris puts a hand on his shoulder, "Nick it's gonna be fine." He giggles at his antics and I stifle my own laughter.
"Dude c'mon, I'm telling you to hold my kid not a bomb." Matt rolls his eyes and Nick flips him off.
Matt places her carefully so she's snug in Nick's arms and he freezes immediately.
"What do I do?" He looks up at me in fear.
"Just that. You're doing fine. See, she's perfectly content in your arms." I tell him softly and grab Matt's arm so he stands next to me.
I kiss his forearm and he looks back at me with a warm smile, wrapping his arm around me and sitting beside me on the bed. He pulls me in gently before kissing the top of my head.
"I'm trying to see any real defining features in her but she quite literally just looks like a baby," he studies her face as Chris takes photos of them.
"She definitely looks more like y/n," Matt says, rubbing my arm lightly before stealing one of my fries from my tray.
"I think she has my nose for sure. She hasn't really opened her eyes yet, maybe you can try and wake her up. The nurse should be coming soon to help me feed her."
"I just realized, what's her name?" Nick asks, lightly rubbing her cheek with the back of his finger to try and wake her.
"Yeah, have you guys finally decided?" Chris sits down next to Nick on the couch.
Matt and I look at each other. We had been debating her name since we first saw her face. Of course we had a list prepared but we didn't want to settle on a name until we could match it to her face.
It was hard agreeing on names at first as we had very different tastes but there was one that kept coming back up in conversation and once we saw her it was a no brainer.
I nudge Matt, "Go ahead, tell them." I lean my head against his shoulder.
"Her name is June," They 'aw' in unison.
"June Iris Sturniolo." Matt tells them her full name and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face.
"I love that, such a sweet name.” Nick smiles down at her.
"Does it have a meaning? Or did you guys just like the name?" Chris pulls back her hat.
"Holy shit, she has a lot of hair." he comments.
"Explains all of my heartburn." I huff and Matt giggles beside me.
"We liked the name and we were looking at lot of nature names, month names, classic names. We landed on June a few times when going over names but didn't want to make it official until we saw her." I start and Matt nods before speaking up.
"Well, we had some music playing during the whole labor and everything but after Y/N started pushing, our playlist ended and started playing whatever. And right before June came out, the song That's Life by Frank Sinatra played. And in the song, there's a line that goes: You're riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I'm gonna change that tune when I'm back on top, back on top in June. Right when we heard that and then we saw her face, we knew that was her name." Matt concluded and I tear up.
"That's so fucking cool,"
"Stop I have chills, oh my god."
"And Iris was my grandmothers name, but we also liked how it sounded with June. It was proven really hard to find a middle name that sounded good with June and Sturniolo." I laugh.
“I love that her name has a cool story behind it that you can tell her one day.” Nick says and I get emotional thinking about telling my daughter the day of her birth.
"Hi June, you gonna wake up for us?" Chris speaks softly to her. She stays put as Nick and Chris look at her expectantly.
"I wouldn't want to open my eyes either if I were just in a a warm dark place for almost nine months and all of sudden I'm in a bright ass hospital room with a loud idiot." Matt speaks looking directly at Chris.
"She must take that after you," I say playfully and rub his chest. He rolls his eyes.
"Aw, a little Mattitude." Chris uses a baby voice, tickling her belly playfully. “Look she even makes Matt’s stank face he does when he’s mad.” He points.
“Oh my god she does,” Nick exclaims.
"Not to be weird, but you are all basically her father since you have identical DNA. Also if you guys have children one day, they'll be genetically June's half-siblings." I state my fun fact and all their faces drop.
Nick gasps, "Wait, that's actually crazy because I was just going to joke around and say 'aw she has my eye-bags'." His eyes widen and I shrug at him proving my point.
"That's so fucking weird." Matt shakes his head in realization.
Chris acts repulsed, putting a hand up. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about that. I'm no one's father, thank God." He does the sign of the cross.
"Yes. Thank God for that." Matt says shortly.
"I don't know, I think Chris will be a good dad one day." I defend him and Matt gives the side eye.
"Thank you y/n," He says with a hand over his heart.
He walks over to me and gives me a side hug. I kiss his cheek, offering him a fry and he takes it appreciatively.
"I'm definitely staying the fun uncle." Nick states, turning his attention back to June. "One day, you'll be big enough to stay at Uncle Nick's and I'll get you anything you want without your parents knowing," he says quietly to her but we can all still hear him.
She begins to stir in his arms and he freezes again.
"Oh no, she's waking up. Is she gonna cry?" he panics. "Matt quick, take her."
"She might want the boob," he says taking June out of Nick's hold.
She begins to fuss and squirm but Matt calmly shushes her and begins to bounce lightly.
"It's her feeding time in 15 minutes, should I try without the nurse?" I look up at Matt and he shrugs.
"I don't see why not. She's clearly hungry now."
"Uh, should we leave?" Chris says awkwardly and I wave him off.
"I'm gonna cover myself don't worry. Unless you want to leave," I say nonchalantly, not having a care in the world after just about everyone in this hospital has seen me naked. But of course I won't be flashing anyone.
"Junie don't cry, here's mama. She's got the food." Matt tells her quietly, bringing her to me as Chris clears my lap for me and goes to sit down next to Nick again.
"My baby," I pout as I grab her and her little cries die down once she's in my arms. "You already know the deal sister, let's see if we can do this." I talk to her confidently hoping I can do this on my own.
Matt stands beside helping me cover up and get June in the right position.
"There you go, all better." Matt speaks to her softly as she latches on and I exhale in relief. "Good job, mama." He runs his fingers through my hair and rubs my neck.
The nurse walks in mid-feed and praises me. "Looks like you've got it under control here." She smiles and checks my vitals quickly before stepping back out of the room.
Once June finishes eating I burp her upright on my lap, facing her towards everyone. At this point she's wide awake and everyone is staring at her.
"Oh my gosh, her eyes are like, gray," Nick says.
"Can she see me?" Chris waves at her, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out.
"Her eyes will most likely change color, they can change up until she's a year." I tell them. "And she can probably see you as a blob, Chris. Stop dancing." I tell him and he stops mid griddy.
"Oh..." He looks defeated and she burps loudly in that moment, making him laugh. "Why does she burp louder than me, she's like 12 hours old." he jokes.
I feel Matt's hand on my shoulder again and he gives me another squeeze. I look up at him and smile tiredly, he leans down to give me a kiss. Something we rarely do in front of others because we hate PDA. But we can't help it this time.
I hear a snap of a camera and we both look to see Nick with his film camera.
"I couldn't resist. First family portrait." he smiles softly. "I can't believe you're a father, Matthew."
"Believe it, kid."
"Nick, will you actually take our family photos when we get home." I ask rubbing Junie's back.
"The fact that you even asked that," he says looking offended and everyone laughs. "Of course I will, though."
#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#dad!matt#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolohouse
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can u do how jjk boys (include megumi PLEASE) would react to you getting all pretty and dolled up to go out (and u just look soooooooooo good)
TOO PRETTY TO BE TRUE!
featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento. itadori yuuji.
n. your wish is my command nonnie, and ya don’t need to say megs cause i’ll ALWAYS include him in every shit that i write (he comes in one package okay) and.. I WENT OVERBOARD WRITING THIS HELPLEP i usually limit to 4 charas every post but yours made my creative space going and I HAD TO DO 5.. so thank you for that. i looooveee the idea mwah mwah i hope the writing makes justice for your cute hc <3
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you were running late; a girl's usual problem before a date. your hands fumbled with the clasp of your earrings, and shit, you cursed softly under your breath. outside, you knew your boyfriend was waiting patiently, or so you hoped. the idea of keeping him waiting made you anxious, but you wanted everything to be perfect.
just as you finished adjusting your hair, you heard the front door creak open. fushiguro’s soft footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you felt a twinge of panic. he never liked to intrude, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "hey, what’s taking so long?" you heard him mutter.
you turned around just as he reached the doorway to your room. his eyes widened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. fushiguro's usual stoic expression melted into one of pure surprise. his cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.
"is everything okay?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest.
megumi blinked, finally finding his voice. "a-ah, yeah, everything’s fine," his eyes remained locked on the ground while he stammered. how in the hell did this place get so hot? he thought to himself as he fiddled with his shirt collar.
"you look… um, really pretty."
"no, i mean, don't get me wrong though! you're al-"
you blushed at his earnestness, but you also smiled. "you too, gumi."
the guy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but managed a small smile in return. "sorry i kinda barged in,” gently, he reached his hand to you and said, “next time, take all the time you need. i’ll wait.”
GOJO SATORU. "well, well, look at you," someone called out, sauntering over with an exaggerated attitude. "you really went all out for our little date, huh?"
you couldn't help but smile as you rolled your eyes. "aand you didn't even bother to dress up," you teased back, gesturing to his usual attire. “so lame for the gojo satoru, boo-hoo.”
"why would i need to dress up when i have the most gorgeous person in the world right here?" the guy stepped closer, taking your hand and spinning you around playfully. "you look soo good, i kind of want to take you home right now. can’t have everyone else stealing glances at my date."
a giggle managed to escape your lips, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "you're ridiculous, toru," shaking your head at him.
then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, one that could captivate a soul. "but seriously, you look amazing. i'm the luckiest guy here."
you swatted at his arm playfully, but your heart swelled from his words. "alright, mr. smooth talker, where are we going?"
gojo straightened up, still holding your hand. "anywhere you want, as long as i get to show you off. but maybe we’ll head home a bit early, just in case," and of course, he didn’t forget to wink.
ITADORI YUUJI. a knock on your door sent a jolt of excitement through you. you had taken extra time to get ready for your date with itadori tonight in the hopes of surprising him. he was standing there with an enormous smile on his face as you opened the door.
“bless me!” his pink eyes widened with admiration. “you look beautiful as always, baby.”
your cheeks heated beneath his surprising compliment. "nah, baby, that’s too much."
his enthusiasm contagious, he practically bounced on his toes. “i’m serious! you’re soo pretty that i might die from your prettiness—is that an actual word—but look at me, i'm serious!”
as you stepped outside, itadori kept showering you with compliments. "that outfit is perfect on you. and your hair! you’re always cute, but.. you really shine tonight."
“you’re too sweet, yuu,”
"i mean it! you deserve to hear it every day baby!”
NANAMI KENTO. you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard a firm knock at the door. taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find nanami standing there, his usual composed demeanor softened by a warm smile.
his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail. "you look beautiful, sweetheart." he said simply, sincere and direct. the compliment made your heart skip a beat.
"thank you, kento," goddamn, a gentleman is always a gentleman.
he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "i appreciate the effort you put into this. it means a lot to me." his smile widened just a fraction, but the warmth in his eyes spoke more than his words could.
you smiled back, touched by his straightforwardness. "it’s because i’m excited to spend time with you."
nanami nodded, offering his hand. "shall we go?"
you sensed serenity and joy as soon as you held his hand. "i’m glad you liked it," you said softly as you both made your way down the street.
GETO SUGURU. “fucking hell, you look so pretty,” he swore under his breath, emerald orbs wide as he took in your appearance. “too pretty to be true.”
“hmm, you think so, suguru?” a little teasing might not hurt, right? his usually calm and composed expression shifting to one of pure astonishment the moment he saw you. and there it is again, his usual up-to-no-good grin.
he stepped closer, his gaze intense and cocky with that smile of his. “oh, you’re mine,” he declared, voice firm yet filled with a protective tenderness. “definitely mine.”
your heart skipped a beat at his sudden possessiveness, yet you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight at his words. “i’m yours,” you confirmed softly, tippy toeing to peck his cheeks.
he pulled your waist gently into his hook, grip both protective and warm. “i just… i don’t want anyone else looking at you like this,” the words were murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “you’re too beautiful.”
you leaned into him, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. “i only want you to look at me like this, suguru.”
he smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up his face. “good. because i’m not letting you go.” he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “let’s go, princess."
@uzurakis
#.writing#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro x reader#megumi x y/n#fushiguro megumi x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto x y/n#geto suguru#geto x you#geto fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento#nanami x you#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji#itadori fluff#yuuji x you#itadori x reader
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the carlos sainz roast
summary: it's carlos' 30th birthday and what a better way to celebrate it than roasting him. wc: 2.8k
folkie radio: happy birthday to the smooooth operatorrrrr. i hontesly LOVED this idea that randomly popped in my head and writing it was sooo much fun, i hope you like it !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Carlos Sainz was turning 30. The big 30.
You wanted to do something special to celebrate it, something out of the ordinary that he would never forget. After spending multiple hours on the internet looking for ideas, a brilliant one came to your mind: A roast.
"So all of you will take turns roasting me? Like making jokes about me?" Carlos asked, looking at you from the couch as you pitched him your idea.
"Exactly, baby, It's going to be so much fun!"
The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of preparations. You sent out invitations, coordinated with the other drivers, and gathered embarrassing photos and funny stories about Carlos.
The night of the roast, you transformed your living room into a makeshift comedy club, complete with a small stage and a spotlight. Each driver that arrived at your house complimenting your effort.
As everyone settled into their seats, you stood up and tapped your glass with a spoon to get their attention.
"Welcome, everyone, to the Carlos Sainz Roast!" you announced, catching Carlos's eye and winking at him. "We're all here to celebrate the man, the myth, the legend... the one who always leaves the toothpaste open - Carlos Sainz Jr. on his 30th birthday. And what better way to show our love than by mercilessly making fun of him?"
Laughter rippled through your friends as Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, "Thank you, amor, that's very nice of you."
You playfully blew a kiss his way before speaking again, "Now, before we start, let's remember the rules: keep it funny, keep it respectful, and try to speak slowly so Max can understand." You shot a teasing glance at Verstappen, who grinned and shook his head.
"First up, we have Charles Leclerc, Carlos's teammate and the only person who can make Carlos look slow on a good day. Charles, the floor is yours!"
Charles stood up, straightening his jacket as he approached the makeshift stage. He cleared his throat dramatically, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Thank you for that introduction," Charles began, "You know, when I first heard Carlos was joining Ferrari, I was excited. Finally, someone to make me look good! But then I realized, with his luscious hair and chiseled jaw, he was going to steal all my sponsorship deals. So I had to step up my game."
The room erupted in laughter, Carlos included.
"But seriously," Charles continued, "working with Carlos has been an experience. He's like a Spanish version of Google Maps – always recalculating, never quite sure where he's going, but somehow ends up in the right place eventually. That's why I had no doubt in my mind he was going to find an amazing car to drive next season, my bet was on the Safety Car but he opted for an even slower car, a Williams!"
Everyone erupted in laugh again, making Carlos shake his head with his eyes closed, "That one was low, Leclerc."
Charles took a moment to catch his breath, then added with a grin, “And Carlos, now that you’re 30, you’re officially a veteran in the sport. But don’t worry, no matter how many years go by, you’ll always be the guy who can make a Ferrari look like it's in a constant state of panic. Cheers to you, mate!”
You grinned at Charles as he stepped down, patting Carlos on the shoulder. "Alright, that was pretty good, Charles," you said, "But let's see if Lando can top that. Norris, you're up!"
Lando bounded up to the makeshift stage, his trademark cheeky grin plastered across his face. He adjusted the microphone, clearing his throat dramatically.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the birthday boy, Carlos 'Smooth Operator' Sainz," Lando began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, when I first met Carlos at McLaren, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got it all – talent, looks, charm.' Then I realized it was just his hair products messing with my senses."
The crowd burst into laughter, Carlos included, you ran a hand through his famous locks and he gently grabbed it to place a kiss on your palm.
"If I'm being completely honest," Lando continued, "Carlos taught me so much during our time as teammates. Like how to perfectly time a dad joke in team radio, or how to look devastatingly handsome while finishing P7. Essential skills in F1, really."
The room erupted in laughter once again, with Carlos shaking his head in amused disbelief.
"Carlos, you're one of my best friends," Lando's tone softened slightly, "Even if you did spend most of our time together trying to teach me Spanish pickup lines that work about as well as Ferrari's strategy team."
"But I have a girlfriend and you don't, mate. Even with my bad pickup lines." Carlos jabbed, making you throw your head back in laughter.
As the laughter died down, Lando raised his glass. "To Carlos, the man who proves that you can be devastatingly handsome, irritatingly talented, and still somehow likeable. Happy 30th, mate. May your midlife crisis be as smooth as your overtakes."
Lando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up from his seat to give him a hug.
"Love you, mate," you could hear Carlos say, making you smile.
"Next up, we have Fernando Alonso, Carlos's longtime mentor and fellow Spaniard!" you announced, making everybody clap as Fernando took the stage.
"Ah, Carlos. I've known him since he was just a little karting prodigy. Back then, I thought, 'This kid's going places.' Now, 20 years later, I realize I was right – he's gone to every midfield team on the grid!"
The crowd roared with laughter as Fernando continued, "But seriously, I always thought Carlos had potential, and I was right, he's got the potential to be the second-best Sainz in Motorsports!"
Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his drink.
"But let me tell you something, Carlos," Fernando's tone softened slightly, "You've made all of Spain proud. You've shown that with hard work, talent, and a famous last name, anything is possible in F1. Well, almost anything, winning a championship might still be a stretch!"
As the laughter died down, Fernando raised his glass. "To Carlos Sainz Jr., the man who proves that you can be a great driver, a fan favorite, and still be overshadowed by your dad at family dinners. Feliz cumpleaños, amigo!"
Fernando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up to give him a warm, laughing embrace. As they parted, you stood up to introduce the next roaster.
"Now, let's hear from someone who's known Carlos since their early days in Formula 1. Please welcome to the stage, the reigning world champion and certified cat lover, Max Verstappen!"
Max sauntered up to the stage, he adjusted the mic and grinned at Carlos.
"If it isn't the new old man of the grid," Max began, earning chuckles from the crowd. "You know, Carlos and I go way back to our Toro Rosso days. I remember when we first met, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got great hair.' Then I realized that's all he's got!" everyone laughed once again, "Back at Toro Rosso, Carlos was always so dedicated. He'd spend hours studying my telemetry, trying to figure out how to be as fast as me. Spoiler alert: he's still trying!"
The crowd roared with laughter, Carlos included, as he playfully threw a napkin at Max.
"But in all seriousness, Carlos," Max continued with a grin, "you've always been one of the most hardworking and determined drivers on the grid. You never give up, no matter how many times you've been dropped by your teams mid season."
Carlos laughed, raising his glass to Max in a mock toast. "Thanks for the reminder, Max."
"Carlos, you're one of the best guys in the paddock. With your resting bitch face and all, you're always there with a helping hand. Even if your driving skills are debatable," he added with a wink. "Happy 30th, mate."
Max stepped down, and Carlos stood up to give him a hug, both of them laughing. You took the mic once more, "Thank you, Max, for that trip down memory lane. Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who's known for his infectious smile and his matchmaking skills. Please give it up for Daniel Ricciardo!"
Daniel bounded onto the stage with his characteristic enthusiasm, flashing his famous grin.
"G'day, everyone! Carlos, mate, happy birthday!" Daniel began, "You know, I've known Carlos for years, but my proudest achievement was introducing him to his lovely girlfriend, YN," you smiled at this, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand, "I thought to myself, 'This bloke needs someone who can put up with his golf obsession and his constant need for mirror checks.' And boy, did I deliver!"
The crowd erupted in laughter, with you and Carlos exchanging amused glances.
"I remember the day I introduced them," Daniel continued, "I told YN, 'Look, he's a great guy, but be prepared for endless conversations about tyre management and the perfect hair product.' Little did I know, she'd be nodding along enthusiastically!"
You playfully rolled your eyes as the audience chuckled.
"But seriously, folks," Daniel's tone softened slightly, "watching these two together is like watching a perfect pit stop - smooth, efficient, and occasionally involves someone getting sprayed with champagne."
Carlos pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your cheek as everyone 'aww'ed.
"Carlos, mate," Daniel concluded, raising his glass, "you've found yourself a keeper. Someone who can navigate your mood swings faster than you navigate Eau Rouge. YN, love, you've got yourself a man who's smoother than a freshly paved track... at least when he's not tripping over his own feet trying to impress you."
Daniel stepped down from the stage, approaching you and Carlos. You both stood up, enveloping him in a group hug, all three of you laughing and thanking him for his words.
"Alright, that was brilliant, Daniel. Now, let’s hear from let's hear from someone who's about to get very familiar with Carlos's driving quirks. Please welcome to the stage, Carlos's new future teammate, Alex Albon!"
Alex strode up to the stage with a playful grin, adjusting the microphone as he faced the audience.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my new teammate, Carlos Sainz," Alex began, "You know, when I heard Carlos was joining Williams, I thought, 'Great, someone to help push the team forward!' Then I remembered his time at Ferrari and realized he's just as confused about strategy as the rest of us."
The room erupted in laughter, with Carlos good-naturedly shaking his head.
"But seriously, Carlos," Alex continued, "I'm excited to work with you. I mean, who wouldn't want a teammate who's been through more teams than I've had podiums? Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari... Williams is just the latest stop on the Carlos Sainz World Tour, isn't it?"
Carlos raised his glass in mock salute, chuckling along with the audience.
"I have to say, though, I'm a bit worried," Alex said, feigning concern. "I've seen how competitive you are, Carlos. I just hope you remember that at Williams, we're usually racing against the clock, not other cars. But hey, at least you'll always beat the safety car... probably."
"You know, Carlos, I just realized we have something else in common besides our great hair and questionable career choices. We're both proud members of the 'No Appendix Club'!"
The room burst into laughter, with Carlos nodding in amused agreement.
"That's right, folks," Alex continued, "Carlos and I have both had our appendixes removed. I like to think it makes us more aerodynamic, but let's be honest, in Carlos's case, it's probably just made room for more hair product."
Carlos playfully patted his hair, eliciting more chuckles from the audience.
"But seriously," Alex said, "I suppose this means we're perfectly matched as teammates. We're both down an organ, so when Williams inevitably asks us to give 100%, we can honestly say we're already giving everything we've got - minus an appendix, of course! Happy birthday, teammate, here's to a season of driving a tractor, but at least we'll be together."
Alex stepped down from the stage and approached Carlos, who stood up to give him a hug patting his back.
"Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who needs no introduction, but I'll give him one anyway. Seven-time world champion and fashion icon, Lewis Hamilton!" you said and everyone clapped.
Lewis sauntered up to the stage with his characteristic cool demeanor. "Carlos, my man," he began, "I've got to hand it to you. You've had quite the career. Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari, next year Williams, it's like you're collecting team merchandise,"Lewis grinned mischievously as he continued, "You know, Carlos, I've got to thank you. You've done such a great job warming up that Ferrari seat for me. It's like you were my personal seat heater all along!"
The crowd roared with laughter as Carlos playfully buried his face in his hands, and you rubbed his back comfortingly while chuckling.
"But seriously," Lewis continued with a grin, "You've made that Ferrari seat look good. I just hope I can live up to your legacy of looking devastatingly handsome while trying to figure out what on earth the pit wall is thinking."
Carlos laughed, shaking his head in mock despair. "Thanks, Lewis. I appreciate the… kind words."
"You know, Carlos, I've always admired your ability to stay positive," Lewis continued his roast, "No matter how many times you've been dropped from teams, you always manage to smile for the cameras. It's like you've mastered the art of looking happy while screaming internally. I'm taking notes mate!"
After a few more jabs Lewis concluded his roast, several other drivers took their turns at the mic, each adding their own flavor to the celebration. George joked about Carlos's infamous beach photos, Pierre told some stories about their Toro Rosso days and even Oscar joked about being surprised about being invited since him and Carlos always push each other off the track.
Finally, it was your turn. You stood up, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as you approached the stage. Carlos looked at you with a huge smile.
"Well, well, well," you began, locking eyes with Carlos, "what can I say about Carlos Sainz that hasn't already been said? He's talented, he's handsome, and he's the only man I know who spends more time on his hair than I do."
The room filled with laughter as Carlos nodded in mock pride.
"But seriously, living with Carlos is an adventure," you continued, "He's always talking about smooth operations, but let me tell you, there's nothing smooth about the way he leaves his socks all over the house. It's like living in a minefield of sweaty foot prisons."
Carlos threw his head back in laughter along with the rest of the guests.
"And don't even get me started on his competitiveness. Everything's a race with this guy. Brushing teeth? Race. Getting dressed? Race. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to overtake me in bed yet!"
The room erupted in cheers and wolf whistles as Carlos turned a shade of red.
"But in all seriousness," your voice softened, "Carlos, you're the most incredible person I know. You're kind, passionate, and you never give up, whether it's on the track or trying to convince me that paella is a breakfast food."
You raised your glass, "To Carlos, the love of my life and the smoothest operator I know. Happy 30th birthday, mi amor. May your future be as bright as your smile and your pit stops be faster than your hair routine."
As you finished, Carlos stood up, his eyes shining with laughter and love. He pulled you into a tight embrace as the room filled with applause and cheers.
"I love you so much," he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple softly.
"Well, folks, I think we've successfully roasted Carlos to a crisp," you said with a grin. "But before we wrap up, I think it's only fair that the birthday boy gets a chance to respond. Carlos, amor, the floor is yours!"
"Wow," he began, his accent thicker than usual, "I'm not sure whether to feel honored or insulted. But I guess that's the point of a roast, right?" He paused as chuckles rippled through the room. "First off, I want to thank all of you for being here. It means a lot that you'd all take time out of your busy schedules to come and insult me."
Carlos thanked each of his friends with a blend of humor and sincerity, making everyone laugh. He playfully teased Charles about making him look good on track, jested with Lando about the success of his Spanish pickup lines with you, and expressed gratitude to Fernando for his mentorship while vowing to become the best Sainz in motorsports.
"And finally, to my beautiful girlfriend," Carlos's voice softened as he looked at you, "Thank you for organizing this amazing night, and for putting up with me every day. You're the real smooth operator here."
The room erupted in cheers and applause as Carlos stepped down from the stage. You met him halfway, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug once again.
"Happy birthday, amor," you whispered in his ear, pulling away to kiss him softly.
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POOL PARTY (l.hs)
MDNI! MDNI! MDNI!
PAIRING: brother's best friend! Heeseung x fem! reader
WC: ~7.3k (whoops my bad)
CW/TW: older brother's best friend, smut (MDNI, 18+) , 1% angst, family problems, fluff, degrading + praise (receiving), oral (both), fingering (receiving), protected (BE SAFE), choking (receiving), spit, hickeys, hee calls reader a slut/whore like twice, public sex/outdoor sex, drinking, assault (if you squint), jealous heeseung, he kind of has a corruption kink and size kink (?), inexperienced reader, lmk if I missed anything!
SUMMARY: Blaring music, colorful lights, free alcohol, horny girls, cool water: pool parties were Lee Heeseung's favorite type of party. When you heard that your older brother, Jake, was throwing one in your back yard for Heeseung's birthday, you took your chance to have Heeseung finally notice you. Luckily for you, Heeseung knew your plan; and two can play that game.
FEATURING: Taehyun of TXT, enha (minus Niki and jungwon)
Buy me a Ko-fi!
Much like every college student, Lee Heeseung loved three things: money, alcohol, and pool parties. You recalled this as Heeseung and your brother walked into the living room shouting about how “awesome” their party will be, raving about your parents finally deciding to go out for the weekend. Heeseung stopped in the doorway upon seeing your figure curled onto the couch, watching Twilight for the thousandth time.
“Hey, birthday boy,” you teased, your eyes leaving the television in front of you. Jake locked eyes with you before rolling his own.
“No, you can't go,” Jake replied, annoyance coating his tone. “This party is for cool people only," he swiped at a loose strand of his blonde hair as it fell over his face.
You sighed, putting a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Then why are you going?” You joked back. Heeseung laughed lightly at your response.
He walked to where he could see the screen before turning to Jake. “I don't see why she can't come, it'll be here and all the guys will be here to make sure she's safe,” Heeseung reasoned. His arms rested against the top of the couch, leaning forward as he came closer to you.
Your head turned to face your brother’s best friend, eyeing how his newly silver hair complimented his tan skin. He wore a silver chain over his shirt, the metal dangling dangerously close to you.
Jake groaned, rolling his eyes again. “That's the problem, dude! Tons of guys will be drinking and looking at my baby sister like a piece of meat!” He shouted. “It's best if she just goes to her friend's house and stays far away that night.”
Jake angrily tapped his phone, sending a text to his friends.
You scoffed. “‘Baby sister’? Jake, I'm almost twenty years old.”
He ran a hand through his hair, aggravation evident on his face. “Twenty, twelve, same shit. My answer is final, you are not going to our party.”
You shrugged in response. “And if I happen to want to go for a swim in my own pool with Sunoo, then what?”
“I’ll inflate the kiddy pool for you two.”
You fiddled with the tiny black box in your hands nervously as Sunoo, your best friend, examined its contents. “Y/N, I'm not sure this is a good idea,” he sighed, placing the object back in the box.
Your shoulders fell as you put the box next to you. Sunoo came to sit next to you, running his hand over your back soothingly. “Maybe if you would tell me why this damn thing was ‘so cool’ I'd reconsider my opinion,” the blonde gestured towards you.
You held the silver sun-shaped pendant in your palm. “It's embarrassing,” you mumbled.
“Then why are you giving it to hot boy Heeseung?”
You slapped your palm on top of Sunoo’s mouth, glancing towards your door in a panic. “Don't say that shit so loud, Sunoo!” He raised his arms in surrender before you spoke again. “I just… It's something between me and him, and I'm sure he'll understand the meaning.”
“Ooh, did you two fuck on the beach or something?” Sunoo bounced up and down, hitting his knees excitedly. “Tell me EVERYTHING!”
You laughed lightly. “No, that's not it,” you traced the outline of the metal Sun. “It’s much more meaningful and realistic than that.”
When you were sixteen, your family took a trip to the beach. You had just begun to bloom into womanhood, according to your mother. Jake had decided to bring his friend from school, Heeseung.
Heeseung was possibly the most popular senior at your high school, your brother a close second to him. You had sat at the bottom of the food chain your entire freshman and sophomore year, until you’d come to school after spring break with a completely new look.
It was the last night of your trip, and you'd decided to go out to the shore one more time before going home. You made your way out in your tank top and shorts, the sandals on your feet crunchy with sand.
The sea greeted you with its soft crashes, the salty, sticky breeze hitting you slowly. You closed your eyes and relished in the tranquility.
Quietly, sniffles began to enter your ears. Your head snapped in their direction, seeing your brother's best friend still shirtless and in his swim trunks that he'd worn all day. He sat with his knees curled into his chest, his brown hair blown askew from the wind.
You walked over to him quietly, sitting next to him with your legs out and arms behind you. “Wanna talk about it?” You asked gently, your eyes never leaving the shore.
He shook his head as it sat against his knees with another sniffle. You brought your hand up to run through his hair, a common gesture you did. Stopping mid-air, you watched as his shoulders shook with the force of his breathing.
Heeseung’s body visibly relaxed at the feeling of your fingers gently carding through his hair. “Whatever it is, it'll be okay. I'm here for you, if you need someone to talk to,” you comforted him in a light voice.
He couldn't get himself to pick his head up, too afraid to have anyone see him so disheveled. “It's- It's-” he stammered, hiccuping between words.
You shushed him, whispering that it was okay and that he didn't need to force himself. He lifted his head up, watching the way you stared towards the open ocean as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
He admired the way your hair fell over your shoulders, slightly wavy from the salt water. He watched a smile grace your cheeks, freckles and a slight tint from a sunburn being gently illuminated by the moonlight bouncing from the water.
“It's my family,” he scratched out, his throat burning from his emotions. “They just, God, they're so shit. My parents fight all the fucking time, and then they expect me to clean up their messes when they throw shit and scare my little siblings. I come home half the time to one of my parents drunk as shit, high off their ass, or flipping their shit at one of the kids.”
He glanced at you, as if to ask if he could continue. You nodded slowly, your eyes giving him all of the reassurance he needed. “I don't want to go home,” he mumbled. “This week with your family has been the best week of my life. I'm not scared to walk out of my room or talk to you all, your family is so loving and easy to be with. I'm so thankful your family let me come and treated me like one of their own.”
Heeseung cracked out another choked sob. “I'm so tired of having to work my ass off to pay bills, and fix shit, and take care of my siblings in my parents’ place, and do good in school, and-”
Heeseung felt his body freeze at the feeling of your soft fingers wiping the tears from his cheeks. He leaned into your touch as you continued to hold his face, his eyes closing in comfort. “You don't have to keep this all to yourself, y'know,” you smiled down to him.
He lifted his eyes to yours, making your breath hitch. The delicate moonlight created a shadow over his face that only served to increase his attractiveness, despite his puffy eyes. His round, doe eyes had a white shine from the illuminated night above him, and you couldn't tell if the stars you were seeing lived in the sky or if they simply lived in his eyes.
“Heeseung,” you breathed out. “You'll always be part of our family.”
Heeseung wrapped his arms around your arms, his chin coming to sit on your shoulder. You let your hands hold his back soothingly, your palms running up and down as he breathed. He brought his face back, staring into your own eyes.
His breath reached your lips with each exhale. “Y/N, you're like a ray of sunshine, y'know?” He laughed, a perfect smile over his features.
“You sound cheesy,” you joked. “But if I can be a ray of sunshine for you when you need it, then I'll be your Sun.”
The two of you sat like that, the last words of your conversation hanging in the air. His face was so, so close to your own.
His eyes flicked down to your lips as he slowly leaned in. “Whenever I need it?” He asked, gauging your reaction.
“Anytime,” you breathed out, almost whispering.
His arms unraveled from your body, hands holding your chin and cheek softly. “What if I just want it?”
You closed the distance, pressing your lips against his, hoping to God that he'd reciprocate. His lips moved against your own slowly, never escalating the kiss beyond just that: a kiss. He pulled away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against your own. He laughed lightly, his shoulders bouncing with him. “Thank you, Y/N, for talking to me. I won't forget this.”
Sunoo sat with his jaw hung open as you finished recalling the story of your conversation with Heeseung. “So you two kissed?!” Sunoo all but yelled.
You jumped up and slammed your door shut, a threatening glare in your eyes. “Shut up!” You whisper-shouted. “The last thing I need is for Heeseung to hear you, or worse, Jake!”
Sunoo swooned in your bed overdramatically. “And you got him a sun pendant to remind him you're his Sunshine, oh my GOSH! So romantic!”
You put the box back onto your desk. “Not exactly,” you smiled. “Just… friendly.”
“Oh, shut up! You guys kissed all romantically, have you two been sneaking around?”
“Nothing ever happened after that, actually. We just went back to how it was before, with him being Jake's friend and me not being allowed to interact with Jake’s guy friends.”
Sunoo slammed his hands onto your mattress. “Okay, I see the problem. We have to kill Jake.”
Your eyes widened as Sunoo wordlessly slid his finger across his throat. His eyes were wide with exaggeration.
“Oh my God, Sunoo, no! We're not killing my brother!” You laughed, your large t-shirt falling over your gym shorts.
Sunoo shrugged. “No fun,” he mumbled. He suddenly snapped his fingers as he got an idea, jumping off your bed and tearing through your closet.
You ran over to him, catching clothes as he threw them behind himself. “Sunoo, what are you doing?!” You shouted, laughter tearing through your body.
He mumbled, “I know you've gotta be hiding your sexy clothes in here,” as he flipped your entire dresser drawer of swimwear upside down. He smiled devilishly, pulling out a white bikini. He held it over your body, his tongue poking from the side of his mouth as he squinted his eyes.
“Sunoo, what are you planning?”
“We're crashing that party, and you're crashing Heeseung,” he stated. He nodded once as he examined where the suit fell and exclaimed, “SEXALICIOUS!”
You giggled, the two of you falling into fashion show mode, trying on different clothes from your closet.
Heeseung stood outside your door, a blush on his cheeks. As he'd promised, he never forgot that night on the beach. In fact, he thought about it quite often. Hearing you laugh every time he came over, seeing you run around with Sunoo happily, the way you would innocently smile at him as if he wasn't thinking about how beautiful you were that night: it drove him crazy.
As time passed and you grew into the adult you are now, Heeseung began to think about how beautiful you would be in front of him, with his cock down your throat. He wanted to ruin the innocence behind your smile.
The day had finally come. It was Heeseung’s twenty-first birthday, the day that you and Sunoo had been planning for weeks. Your parents cooked a simple ramen for everyone, the cake being the main course.
Of course, you'd helped decorate the cake. Your mother was only capable of making a sheet cake, so you helped her ice it with smiley faces everywhere and “HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEESEUNG” being drawn in the center.
Heeseung watched as you placed the candles carefully, wanting all twenty-one to be even. He walked over to you as you placed the finishing candle, noticing you were alone.
Heeseung had been planning for this day. At least, he'd been planning since he overheard your plans. He was going to drive you to your absolute limit, and put your simple plan (which he knew would already be highly effective) to its fullest potential.
He smiled at the cake, glancing at you. “Thank you, Y/N. This looks delicious,” he commented.
Your eyes shot around the room. “Watch out, Heeseung. Jake might froth at the mouth if he sees any of his friends talking to me tonight.”
“Well,” he swiped his finger into the icing, gathering a dollop of white on it, “we'll just have to be sneaky, then.”
You turned to him, mouth open and ready to scold him for messing with the cake (and your head). He smirked, dragging his finger along his tongue slowly. You watched as the icing spread over it, his tongue flat against his finger. He quietly groaned at the flavor. “Fuck,” he practically moaned.
“‘Fuck’?” You breathlessly whispered.
He looked at you, licking the rest off of his lips. “Tastes so good, Y/N,” he murmured with half-lidded eyes.
Suddenly, his sweet eyes had opened back up as his smile reached his ears again. “Can't wait to eat it!” He cheerily harped before walking out of the room, leaving you in a state of confusion and with a puddle in your skirt.
“BITCH!” Sunoo shouted upon hearing of your interaction with Heeseung. He laughed loudly, his tropical shirt and black swim trunks complimenting the sunglasses he wore atop his head. “He is so flirting with you!”
You walked out of your closet, doing a dramatic twirl in your bikini. You had a pair of glasses on your head, matching Sunoo’s. He clapped and hooted while you did a few more moves, including the iconic Elle Woods “bend and snap”.
Sunoo scanned your figure, from your curled hair down to your painted toes. “Are you seriously wearing an anklet?” He asked as you stood.
You looked down at it. “Yeah, what's wrong with it? It matched the pendant I'm giving Heeseung, I thought it would be cute.”
“It is,” Sunoo nodded, “if you want to tell him you want it to dangle over his shoulder, that is.”
He looked up at you, expecting you to take it off.
When you made no move to do so, his eyes widened as he began to shout. “Oh my God! You dirty whore, look at you growing up!”
He stood next to you, eyeing the both of you in your mirror before putting an arm over your shoulder. “We could pass as a cute couple, couldn't we?” He commented.
The two of you faked it for about two more seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunoo holding onto your shoulder to keep from falling.
As you heard the door to your house opening, followed by boisterous laughter and shouting, you knew that the party was starting. You and Sunoo walked down the stairs, your gift to Heeseung in your hands.
Jake's friend, Sunghoon, whistled lowly as you walked into the room. “Damn, Jake, didn't know you had a girlfriend,” he commented.
Heeseung turned to you quickly, his eyes going wide and his cheeks turning red as he checked you out. If he had been trying to hide it, he did not do a good job of it. He shut his open mouth and blinked quickly before trying to get ahold of himself.
Jake looked at you in shock and disgust. “That's my sister, you douche!” Jake shouted.
“Is she single?” Sunghoon asked flirtatiously.
Heeseung and Jake both shot a look at the boy.
“Off limits.”
“Don't even try it.”
The two looked at each other after they spoke simultaneously, both shrugging and looking back at Sunghoon with glares.
You came up between Heeseung and Jake, eyeing Sunghoon up and down. “Actually, I am single,” you smiled. “I'll be at the party all night, if you wanted to hang,” you hoped your attempt at blatantly flirting would get to Heeseung.
From the way his jaw clenched, it did.
Your bubble was burst, however, by Jake’s hand on your wrist. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I told you, you are not invited,” Jake dragged you back to the stairs. “Whether you live here or not, you will stay in your room.”
You opened your mouth to protest, only for Heeseung to come up next to you and pluck the sunglasses off of your head. “Why do you have these anyways? You do realize it’s nighttime, right?” He asked, putting them in his own hair.
You rolled your eyes. “Can I at least give Heeseung his birthday gift?”
Jake shook his head no as Heeseung nodded at you. He smiled tenderly, his hand settling on your shoulder. “I'll find you after the party's over so you can give it to me, yeah?”
You sighed, pretending to give in. “Alright, that works. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my room all night. All alone! The one right by the-”
“Alright, horndog, I'll be sure to relay the message that your brother will beat the shit out of anyone who tries to go, don't worry,” Jake began to push you up the stairs.
As Jake and Heeseung greeted more people, you watched the red solo cups fill outside your window. “Sun,” you called out, “do you think girls are gonna hit on Heeseung?”
“I think girls are going to flash him, too,” Sunoo deadpanned. You frowned at him, your makeup not being able to hide your worry. “Girls are going to throw themselves at a hot guy like him, but that guy out there was one of many who will be begging for your attention tonight.”
He walked over to you, rubbing your arms. “You are hot shit tonight, babe. If you want Heeseung to notice you, you've gotta flaunt it.”
After the two of you snuck back into the party, it took about five minutes before a guy offered to show you how to use a keg. Once you'd gotten that information, you were unstoppable.
You had about four cups of beer before deciding to take a break, the buzz making you dizzy. You let your feet dangle into the water of the pool, watching the way the water rippled under your feet.
The slight waves in your pool from people swimming reminded you of that night on the beach so many years ago. There was no way Heeseung remembered, you thought. You were probably just a kid to him, or a little sister.
You looked up and took in the scene of your backyard. You’d seen it from your window many nights, but you’d never been immersed into it. Girls ran around with pool floats in skimpy swimsuits, guys targeted one another with water guns, your pool was decorated with LED lights and stray solo cups, and your brother was easily the life of the party.
Currently, your dad’s expensive speaker setup for the pool was blaring “Beauty and a Beat” by Justin Beiber. You watched as a beach ball was tossed around the party, beer splashing onto the ground and water dripping down bodies.
You felt a leg brush against your own as someone sat next to you. A shirtless man with big eyes and an impressive physique sat next to you, his hair dripping with water. “You ever been to one of Jake’s parties?” The man asked.
You shook your head, “I’ve only ever heard of them, this is my first party.” The man watched as you took another chug of your drink.
He let his hand touch against the flush on your cheeks, smiling at you. “I can tell, you look bored as fuck. My name’s Taehyun.”
“Hi, Taehyun. I’m Y/N,” you smiled, holding your hand out for him to shake.
He looked at you with a confused smile, shaking your hand slowly. He then intertwined your fingers, his pink hair dripping water into your hand. His muscles flexed as he helped you stand with him, his pretty hand coming to steady you. “Say, do you want something a little better than beer? It tastes like shit, a pretty girl like you needs quality drinks."
You glanced at your cup, eying the amount of beer you had left. You chugged the rest, nodding as you swallowed. “Yeah, what the hell? I'm always up for a challenge.”
He cocked a brow. “Oh? I like that,” he held your hands as he led you to the drink table.
You handed him your cup as he poured a mixture of clear liquid, lime, and frozen pink lemonade into a cup. “Try this. It's good, and it's not enough to fuck you up off one cup,” he smiled.
You pushed the drink down your throat, your eyes widening as you swallowed. “Holy shit, Taehyun. This tastes like a fucking slushy.”
“I know, it's awesome,” he praised himself.
As you laughed, you felt a pair of eyes glaring at you. You hoped it wasn't Jake as you sound around.
Heeseung sat behind you, a girl sitting sideways on his lap. You watched as she ran her hand up and down his chisled abs, his hands behind his head. She whispered into his ear, a smirk crossing his lips, but you knew she didn't have his undivided attention at the moment.
His eyes were burning into you, and if looks could kill, the entire neighborhood would have gone up in flames. With a clenched jaw and raised eyebrows, he glared at you as if to say don't even try it. He stared at you so intently that you felt almost ashamed for talking to Taehyun.
You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your trance. “Taehyun, do you want to try a sip?”
He looked you up and down. “I mean, sure,” he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close enough to have you pour the drink into his mouth yourself.
Your lips curved into a smile. “Flirting, huh?” You teased him.
He smiled back. “Is it working?”
You grabbed his chin, forcing his face closer to yours. “Only if you're looking to get laid tonight,” you said, sure that Heeseung was reading your lips.
You glanced at the boy, his jaw clenched again. He returned his focus to the girl on his lap, his hand gripping at her thigh. You watched as she turned to him, a gasp escaping her lips.
Taehyun smirked as he crashed his lips into yours, a much different kiss from the one you shared with Heeseung four years ago. His hand wove its way into your hair, his other hand holding your hip. He pushed your body against his, your back arching into him as you let out a moan.
He took the opportunity to insert his tongue into your mouth, clashing against your own. He sucked your tongue harshly, his lower hand gravitating towards your ass. You brushed your leg against Taehyun’s crotch, a low groan leaving his lips as he pulled away. “Maybe we should take this where we can't be seen by everyone, yeah?”
You nodded, Taehyun already starting to lead you to the side of your house. You watched as the two of you walked into the seclusion of the shadow cast by it, your heart racing.
Maybe, having seen Heeseung with the other girl and believing he doesn't want you the way you want him, you could move on.
Taehyun placed a hand on the wall of your house, your foreheads touching. “God, you're so hot,” he sighed, capturing your lips again. It was one filled with lust, with teeth clashing and lip biting.
You grabbed his hand and lifted it to your chest as he backed away and looked at you. “Are you sure?” He asked. “I don't want it to be the beer talking.”
You nodded, throwing your head back as he kneaded your boob over your swimsuit. He squeezed your mound in time with every jab of his tongue into your mouth, occasionally pinching your nipple through the material. You had all but cum from him just kissing and touching your chest when he was suddenly ripped away from you.
“Dude, what the fuck?!” Taehyun shouted, bracing himself as he hit the ground.
You watched as Heeseung didn't spare the man a glance, his attention entirely on you. His eyes raked over your figure mercilessly, making you feel small in your own yard.
Taehyun looked between the two of you, confusion and anger evident on his face. “Tae, go back to the party. You don't want her,” Heeseung said in a low voice.
Taehyun scoffed. “And who are you to make decisions for her?” His arms came to cross in front of his chest.
“She's Jake’s little sister,” Heeseung turned his head to face the other. “He'll kill you.”
Taehyun cursed under his breath before running off, hoping your brother hadn't seen your show earlier. Your eyes followed him, wondering if he could’ve given you what you’d been hoping for.
You glared at Heeseung. “What the fuck is your problem, Hee? You can't just tell me what to do!” You pushed him back by his chest, your smaller hands barely moving him.
Heeseung’s eyes locked onto yours, his stare harder than anything you’d seen before. He stared at you like you were wrong for kissing Taehyun, wrong for kissing anyone else. His hair, which he used your sunglasses to push back after jumping into the pool, still dropped some water onto his neck and shoulders. You watched as a droplet fell down his collarbones, trailing down his chest and stomach, collecting in the waistband of his swim trunks.
You wanted to lick every bead of water off of his body.
His tongue peeked out of mouth to wet his lips, his teeth catching the bottom of the two as his eyes fell to where Taehyun had touched.
His hands balled into fists as he fought his desires. He closed his eyes, groaning in anger. “Go to your room. Jake will never talk to either of us again if we do this.”
He turned to walk away, taking two steps before you spoke up. “Do fucking what, Hee? Instead of me falling for that fucking show you put on earlier with the cake, I decided to go and find someone who was actually into me. Nowhere does that involve you!”
Heeseung turned around. “You think I’m not into you? You don’t think I’ve been fighting myself to not kiss you all this time?” He raised his voice, the tension finally getting to him.
Suddenly, it was too hot outside. In the cool night air, your body temperatures began to rise to unseen numbers.
“I don’t know, Heeseung. You sure didn’t have to do much fighting if you’ve lasted four years.”
He slammed his hand against your head onto the wall, much harder than Taehyun had. Your faces were inches away from one another, you could smell the beer on his breath. “I see your pretty fucking lips in my dreams, Y/N. I’ve had to imagine your pretty little face and how it would look if you were choking on me for ages, and tonight, I have to watch you parade around with your ass out and your tits barely covered? Do you know how badly I wanted to rip these clothes off you when you walked down those stairs?”
You held your breath, his eyes glancing to your lips. “What makes you think I won't just walk away and go find someone else?” You asked. The two of you both knew you were bluffing, an empty threat that only served to make Heeseung angrier.
“If anyone’s fucking you tonight, it’s gonna be me.”
Heeseung looked into your eyes, how they were wide with anticipation for him. He looked down to your lips, admiring how they were already pouty and puffy for him, begging for him to kiss you right. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to your own.
You threw your arms over his shoulders, his hand holding the back of your head as he pushed your mouths impossibly close. His other hand slid down the curve of your hips, holding onto your leg and pulling it up to wrap around his hips. You moaned as you felt his hard-on press into you, Heeseung taking the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. The two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, Heeseung winning and taking your lip between his teeth. He backed away, loving how you looked under him. “Go inside. I’ll excuse myself from the party and meet you in your room.”
You nodded, walking towards your front door to sneak back in. Heeseung jogged back around the house to find your brother. Jake was laughing with his friends, a girl sat on his leg as he played with her hair. “Yo, Heeseung!” He called out, obviously plastered.
Heeseung walked to him, yawning. “Dude, I hate to say this, but I’m feeling super tired. Must’ve been all the swimming and all the beer, man.” Jake looked around the party, seeing how everyone else was still partying.
Jake put his cup onto the table behind him. “Do you want me to call off the party? It is your party, after all.”
Heeseung shook his head. “Nah, keep it going. I’m just gonna head inside and go to bed, but don’t stop the party. Keep it going as long as possible, actually.” Jake cocked a brow at him in confusion. “In my honor, y’know,” he added. Jake gave him a thumbs up, standing and shouting something incoherent, to which everyone else cheered.
Heeseung ran inside, practically flying up the stairs and to your room. He swung your door open, slamming it shut and smashing his lips onto your own again. He reached his hand behind your back to push the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders, halting all movement when you pushed him off of you.
“Is something wrong?” He asked with worry.
You shook your head, grabbing the black box from your desk and handing it to him. “I wanted to give you this first. I think you’ll like it.”
He nodded, opening the box. “Is that for this?” He asked, holding his chain out. You nodded, helping him put the pendant on.
You sighed as you looked at it. “It’s supposed to be because-”
“Because I called you my ray of sunshine, I remember. I go to sleep thinking about that kiss,” he mumbled at the end.
You pointed to your ankle. “I have the matching anklet. Figured it would look good over your shoulder.”
Heeseung looked up at you, the toothy grin on his lips contrasting the filthy words coming from them. “I know exactly what position I want you in first.”
He kissed you again, unclasping your top and pulling it off of you as he made his way down your jawline and neck. His fingertips fluttered down your arms gently, goosebumps appearing behind them. He bit along the bottom of your neck, leaving small bruises in his wake. You swallowed a moan, earning a harsh bite from him. “Let me hear your pretty voice, babe,” he whispered into your ear.
His hand slid to your boob, experimentally pinching your nipple with his thumb and index finger. You let out a quiet moan, melting into his touch.
He brought his other hand to your waist, his thumb rubbing circles onto the side of your stomach. He kissed his way down your chest, leaving hickeys all the way down to your free boob. You moaned as he licked your other nipple, the cold air hitting his saliva and making it perk.
You let out a loud moan, hands flying to the top of his head as he sucked harshly and rolled your other nipple between his fingers. He pushed you against your bed, your legs falling over the side as your back lay on the edge. He continued to roll your nipple between his fingers as he kissed down the valley of your tits, down your stomach, and to the hem of your swimsuit bottoms. "Already so wet for me, why didn't you say you needed me, baby?" He smirked against your stomach, his fingers already curling underneath the material.
“You talked so much shit earlier, and now look at you. You can't even tell me how bad you want me to eat your fucking pussy,” he mused. “Tell me, am I the first?”
You felt his hot breath fan over your clothed core, your wetness showing through the white material. “Y- You’re the first,” you breathily said. Heeseung let out a low groan, a dark smile appearing.
He ripped the clothing down your legs, throwing them to the corner of your room. He looked down at your core, your lips glistening with your wetness. “Fuck, I’ve barely even touched you,” he let the sight and smell invade his senses. “So pretty, baby, so pretty for me. Almost like you were made to be my pretty whore.”
Your hole clenched around his words, the praise going straight to your stomach. He put his finger on your clit, rubbing slow circles over it before dragging it down to your hole and back up. He pulled his finger to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. Sucking your juices into his mouth, he closed his eyes and moaned. “Taste so good, might have to just eat you out until you’re begging for my cock.”
“Hee, please,” you whined.
“Please what, babe?” He cooed, the tip of his finger pushing into where you needed him most. “You think Taehyun could’ve made you needy like this? Think he could’ve had you whining for him like this?”
“N- No, Hee, only you,” you moaned as he pushed his finger all the way in, curling it to make your back arch.
He laughed cruelly at how sensitive you were, fanning his breath over your heat. He wanted to watch the way you squirmed over a singular finger, wanted to see the way you saw stars from him doing so little to you. He wanted to stay strong, palming himself over his shorts to the sound of you.
You moaned loudly, your legs twitching. Heeseung growled, his resolve shattering into pieces as he dragged the tip of his tongue up from your hole to your clit slowly, eyes rolling back in his head at the taste.
"Fuck, Y/N, you taste so amazing. Could eat you all day."
He latched his lips onto your folds, licking and sucking your slick until his nose and chin were shiny with it. He pumped his finger fast, a relentless pace building up. You felt a knot in your stomach building, his lips coming to latch around your clit and suck. “‘m close,” you mumbled, your head thrown back.
He sloppily licked over your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the euphoria he’d been building you up to. He added a second finger, stretching you out and pushing you over the edge. You saw white and your ears rang as he swallowed as much of your juices as he could, the rest coating his chin and nose still. Once he was sure you’d come down from your high, he brought his lips to your own and kissed you, forcing you to taste yourself. It wasn’t as sweet as he made it out to be, but if he enjoyed it, you guess.
“So good for me, you’re so, so good for me baby. My pretty baby, already all fucked out for me,” he commented, holding your jerking hips down. “Get on your knees.”
You obeyed, sliding to the floor on your weak legs, your eyes staring into his. He pulled his shorts off of his body, his hard dick slapping his stomach, leaving a string of precum attaching his tip to his lower abdomen. He looked at you expectantly. “Can’t expect me to teach you everything, not when you were gonna give another guy the same like I haven’t been waiting.”
You wrapped your hand around his member, the tip continuing to leak into your hand. Heeseung wasn’t monstrously thick, but he was long. His girth was what you’d consider average, if not a little above, but his length was longer than you’d imagined he could be. You used your thumb to spread his precum down the underside of his cock, bringing your head to lick up the trail you created from base to tip. He threw his head back, a pretty moan slipping past his lips as you put your lips around the tip and sucked.
The tension in his shoulders released, his jaw going slack as you tried to fit him inside your mouth. He found it so cute how you tried your best, but so sexy that your proportions were so much smaller, that he had to fit himself in you.
You used your hands to stroke where you couldn’t reach, your head not going very far beyond his head. He moaned loudly as you used your tongue against his slit, his hand collecting your hair into a ponytail. He thrusted into your mouth, his dick going down your throat and making you gag. “Shit, baby, are you okay?” He asked quickly.
You nodded, pulling yourself off of him. “I’ve never done this before, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he stroked the side of your face. “That makes this more fun. I can help, if you want.”
“Please.”
His cock twitched in your hands as he looked down at you, your eyes teary and your chin dripping with slobber. You were fully naked on the floor in front of him, your hair messy and your chest marked. And you looked so beautiful for him.
He moaned at the begging tone of your voice, the hand in your hair holding your head in place as he thrusted forward. He was holding back from going fast, you could tell. You gripped his thighs, your nails digging into them as you moaned around his dick. He sucked in a breath, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit,” he hissed, “I almost came doing that.”
He pulled you up by your hair, the pain making you drip down the inside of your thighs. You moaned loudly as he jerked your head around, littering your chest with more hickeys. “Trying so hard to be gentle with you, I promise. You’re just so perfect, want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“Hee, be rough. Wanna feel you,” you moaned into his kiss.
His eyes squeezed shut, a low groan emerging from the back of his throat. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He threw you onto your bed, climbing on between your legs and pinning your hands above your head with one hand. He kissed you roughly, his teeth grazing whatever skin they could.
His finger tapped the side of your lips. “Open,” he commanded. You opened your mouth, watching the glob of saliva fall from his lips. “Swallow.” You let the warm liquid travel down your throat as he said it. “Good girl,” he cooed in your ear sweetly, his stomach filling with warmth as he watched you. “Want everyone out there to hear how good you are for me. So bratty and talkative outside, and now you want my cock so bad you’ll do anything, isn’t that right?”
You nodded. “Want you s’ bad, Hee,” you whined as he rubbed his thumb against your clit. “Wanna feel you in me.”
You reached under your pillow, pulling a condom out and handing it to him. He ripped the package open with his teeth, sliding the rubber on easily. “Had it ready for me, you knew I’d be in you tonight, didn’t you? My pretty little slut,” he teased as he pressed the tip of his dick against your hole.
He grabbed your legs, bringing them over his shoulders. True to your word, your anklet dangled next to his face as his matching necklace hung over your face. He pushed your legs closer to you, pressing you in on yourself as he slowly started to push in. “Stop teasing,” you stammered. “P- Push it in all the way.”
He threw his head forward, watching his cock disappear into you and bulge in your stomach. “S’ tight, s’ happy I got to fuck this pretty pussy. Can’t believe you almost let someone else see this when you know it’s all mine,” he spoke filthily over you.
He slowly began to thrust in and out, building up to a fast pace that had your bed creaking. His jaw hung open, shameless moans spilling from his mouth. His breath would catch in his throat, short gasps telling you he found this as pleasurable as you did. His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing until you felt lightheaded. He brought you up by your neck to kiss you.
This kiss was much softer and slower than the others. He took his time savoring your lips and their pillowy feel, he committed the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his to memory. He let your head fall back down as he brought his head into your neck. You felt the familiar tightening in your stomach that you had before, his dick filling you up entirely. He moaned into your ear, words of praise falling from his delicate lips with each thrust. “‘S good, ‘s perfect, all mine,” he said. "Ngh, fuck, feels 's tight around me."
Your nails scratched down his back as he ruthlessly pounded into you, a loud moan escaping him as he felt the pain. You moaned his name louder the harder he pounded into you, only fueling his drive. He picked his head up, his eyes bearing into your own. “Tell me whose cock is making you feel this good, hm? Who’s making this tight little pussy cum so hard, hm? Is it anyone out there, or is it me?”
“You, ‘s all you, Heeseung. Don’t want anyone but you, Hee,” you moaned. You felt your orgasm coming quick the more he teased you. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”
Heeseung sucked hard against your neck. “Fuckin’ love when you call me that,” he groaned in your ear. “You’re my baby, all mine, I’m all yours,” he cooed. “Only this pretty pussy makes me feel this good, nobody else.”
You pulled Heeseung back down to you, “Shut up and kiss me, ‘m so close.”
“Fuck, me too,” he said, molding his lips to your own. His mouth caught your whines and moans as you came undone onto him, your cum coating his abdomen and thighs. Your hole spasmed around his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm, making him release into the condom.
He panted into your ear, his forehead against your own. The two of you sat in that position for a few minutes, catching your breaths and kissing one another.
He slowly pulled out of you, tying the condom and tossing it into the trash can. He came back to lay on top of you, holding your waist as he did so. He pulled your blanket over you both, bringing you up to your pillows. “Jake’s gonna wonder where you are, Hee,” you ran your fingers through his hair.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he laughed, his hand intertwining with your free one. “Just had sex with the girl I’ve been in love with for four years, he can suck it up.”
You looked down at him. “You’re in love with me?”
He looked back up at you and nodded. “You couldn’t tell?”
“Heeseung, I was going to give up on you after tonight if nothing happened.”
“I was supposed to move on from you too, but I realized I didn’t give a fuck about Jake’s overprotectiveness.”
You laughed. “I don’t think he’ll be too mad. He does trust you with his life, after all,” you smiled while rubbing your thumb over his hand. He brought his head to lay on the pillow next to you, bringing your body closer to his. “So, what does this mean for us?”
Heeseung ran his hand down your side soothingly. “Well, Sunshine, even though I did it insanely out of order,” he laughed, “I’d like to take you out on actual dates and get your parents’ approval and all. Y’know, court you and shit. Treat you like someone I want to spend my life with.”
You smiled. “I’d like that, Hee.”
The two of you fell asleep like that. Needless to say, Jake was not pleased when he went to look for Heeseung in the morning. Your parents immediately gave him the seal of approval to date you, but Jake took much longer to come around. It wasn’t until Heeseung told him he wouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend until he got Jake’s approval that Jake realized how stupid his friend was.
“You mean to tell me, you’ve been in love with my little sister since that vacation, but you’re waiting on something as stupid as my approval to ask her out?” Jake had asked one morning while the three of you ate breakfast together.
Heeseung nodded, pouring another bowl of cereal for himself. “Yep, pretty much,” he smiled.
“Dude, it’s been, like, a fucking month!” Jake exclaimed. “Why would you do that?”
“He wanted to wait for his best friend to be happy for him and the little sister,” you grumbled, morning crankiness being your worst enemy. Jake looked between the both of you, his eyes wide.
Heeseung’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes like it usually did, his spoon aimlessly stirring his meal. “I want my best friend to not hate me for life if I date his little sister,” Heeseung corrected you.
Jake slammed his fist onto the counter, making you both jump. “Dude, I might beat your ass. Really,” he glared at Heeseung. “I can get over you two dating, but I won’t be able to get over you hurting her.”
“I would never-”
“That includes being an idiot and making her wait,” Jake interrupted Heeseung. “Ask the girl out-”
“Hello, ‘girl’ is right here,” you waved.
Jake held a hand in front of your face. “Ask the girl out, and make her happy.”
Heeseung pushed Jake’s hand out of your face, leaning over the counter. “Hey, girl,” he smiled. Jake rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, leaving his cereal on the counter. Heeseung grabbed your hand with his. “How happy would it make you if I took you out tonight?”
“Well, in my mind we’ve been dating for four years, so I’d be pretty happy,” you smiled as you put a spoonful of cereal in your mouth.
“Well, girl, I’m excited to celebrate our imaginary four year anniversary when you become my girlfriend tonight."
NOTES: ohhh my gosshhhh this took so long to write 😭 never really written this much before, I'm scared it's repetitive or boring. I just listened to Beauty and a Beat and my mind was like "omg heeseung at a pool party yass"
Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated, and my asks/requests are always open!
#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fluff#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jake#enhypen jay#enhypen smut#enhypen sunghoon#enha heeseung#smut#enha fanfic#enha smut#heeseung smut#enha smau#enhypen smau#heeseung#enha fluff#enha x reader#enhypen sunoo#enha imagines#enha#enhypen#jake smut#jay smut#sunghoon smut
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
You're early.
Your little knock on the door sends him into a spiral of panic, brain splitting in half, trying to figure out if he can hide his mortifying failure from you and still save dinner.
You knock again.
"Hey, sorry, I know we're early but-" You peel off with a sniff, nose wrinkling slightly, lips tucking together. You're wearing a lip stick, or a lip gloss, or something? And your hair is done. "Is something burning?"
"No!" He blurts. "No, uh. I'm just... cooking. Come in, come in."
He did actually, burn dinner. He burnt it so bad he had to order delivery, Thai on the fly, much to your excitement, and he files the knowledge of one of your favorite foods away for the future. The two of you eat together, little bits and pieces being given to Emmaline from your finger, and by the time you're finished, he's nearly worked up the nerve to start talking.
"So..." your voice trails, awkwardly, and you glance at him before looking away, finding a spot on the wall to study. Here goes nothing.
"I ah, wanted to explain, my behavior... from the other night." He starts, rubbing the nape of his neck. You watch him expectantly, Emmaline on your lap, and when he falters, you give him an encouraging nod.
"I'm listening."
"How I reacted, how I spoke to you was... unfair. It was cruel and I never want to make you upset, like that." You nod. "What I do- my job- it's... it can be dangerous. Stressful. Our last mission was difficult and I... operate in a different headspace at work. It's what keeps me alive. Makes me good at what I do." Skip the killing part, LT, Soap's voice reminds him, and he pushes on. "I was still decompressing, when you came to the door and I didn't want you to see me... like that."
"With your war paint." You quip, and he pauses, head cocked. "You had black stuff, around your eyes?"
"Yes, with my war paint. I didn't want you to..." He loses it for a second, flailing in the wind, mind scrambling as he tries to put the words together. Just say it. Tell the truth. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I don't think I could stand it. It's no excuse but, I guess, I thought you deserved an explanation."
"You're right." You say slowly. "It's not an excuse." You sigh, twirling a fork through the last of your noodles. "I'm not mad at you, not anymore. I just... it's hard you know. To put yourself out there, when you're a single mom. And a widow. I thought, maybe... you didn't-"
"I do." He cuts you off. "I... you and Emmaline, you're the best things that have happened in a long time. I-"
"Oh my god!" you gasp, and he instinctually startles, muscles going stiff as he surveys the flat.
"What?"
"It's snowing! Sorry, just uh..." You're already standing, hand half reaching towards him, excited smile on your face. "Emmaline's never seen snow before, can we... this is her first winter." You explain, and then move towards the balcony, fidgeting with his door lock, huffing in frustration when you can't figure it out.
"I got it." He says, not mentioning that it's custom, and slides it free, pushing the door wide so you can go outside. You're vibrating with joy, smile wide and big, and even Emmaline feels it, watching her mum, little face lit up the same as yours.
"Look, baby. Look!" You point, and then cup your palm, letting fat white flakes fall into your hand, tilting to show Emma, and she cackles with excitement, pudgy hand slapping against yours, bringing the melting snow to her mouth. You laugh with her, staring back up at the sky before glancing over to where he stands in the doorway, enraptured. The snow is caught in your hair, on your nose, in your eyelashes, the same as the baby, both of you glowing on his fucking balcony like angels on earth, sent to him from someone up there who might love him.
"Thanks, mum." he whispers to himself, to her, ducking inside to grab the blanket from the couch so he can wrap the two of you up in it to keep you at least a little warm and protected from the elements. "I wish you could have met them."
When he reappears, you're still catching flakes, this time with your tongue, hardly paying attention until he's settling the blanket on your shoulders and stepping back to watch, content to try to memorize every single second.
"Come here." You call, extending a hand, wiggling your fingers. "Try to catch one on your tongue." But he can't move.... he's too stunned, standing there before you, staring, and it gives you pause. "Simon." You whisper, head tipped back. The balcony lamp reflects in your eyes, snowflakes and yellow shine glowing back at him, the entire world lit up inside them, and his hand finds your cheek, cupping it with his bare palm, thumb stroking across the velvet that is your skin.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry." His voice sounds thick, fractured, and you smile, leaning into him, Emmaline's warm weight between your bodies.
"I know... I... I understand now." You look away, for a second, taking a deep breath before blinking rapidly, tears just barely there on your waterline. "I can't... losing Emma's dad, before she was even born I- I can't... I don't want to go through anything like that again, Simon. I'm scared." It's a confession, horrifying and real, terrified and heartbreaking. All he can do is tell you the truth. Tell you what he feels. What he knows.
"You don't have to be scared." He murmurs, low and soft, other hand coming to gently support Emmaline's back. "Not with me. I promise you." What is he doing, what is he doing, what is he- what is he promising? To live forever? To never hurt you? To never let either of you be hurt? To claw his way back to you, even in death?
He looks down at you, at Emma, and the world freezes. He sees everything so clearly, the image of his future, of yours- a little house with a yard, another baby. Emmaline a big sister, so proud and excited. All of you tucked away somewhere secret and safe.
He takes a deep breath, exhale crystalizing in the air, water vapor falling like a halo around you, and his confession comes unbidden, so easily given to you. "I want to kiss you."
"Okay." You answer, and then he moves, closing the gap, slowly pressing his lips to the warmth of yours, blood pooling beneath his skin, heat flowing between your bodies. You taste like heaven, mouth sweet and easy for him, parting with a tiny gasp, and it overpowers him to the point where he thinks his knees might give out. He can't help but hold your closer, arm tightening around your back, finger stroking down the length of your spine-
Emma cries. It's not really a cry, more like a little shout, and you pull away abruptly, giggly expression on your face.
"What's wrong baby girl." He hums, patting her back, tucking the blanket tighter around your arm and her body.
"I think she's upset she's going to have to share you. You're her favorite nowadays, you know." You tease, and his grin is so heavy on his face, but so light at the same time, something completely foreign and wild, the breadth of happiness something he hasn't felt in so many years. "And she's probably cold."
"Should we go inside?" He motions, somewhat relieved to get both of you out of the cold, and when you nod, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently.
"We should."
#peaches writes#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#light on
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BDSMaid - Chapter 1
Masterlist || AO3
Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: 18+ Chapter Summary: To save money for law school, you accept a job at Maid Discretely; a high end, anonymous cleaning service. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in, more than just your curiosity peaks. CW: Author chooses not to use warnings in this chapter in order to avoid spoilers. While I never want to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. AN: Oh boy, here we go! I'm in a straight PANIC getting ready to post this. I hope it meets all your expectations, I was not at all expecting that reaction to the teaser post. Love you all and thank you for all your support. Please share or comment, I have a praise kink LOL. Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for future chapters. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Thank you @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk and @burntheedges for being my little cheerleaders over this, ily!! Chapter Word Count: 4.4k
You stare down at the very intimidating legal document you have clasped in your clammy hands. There are so many big legal sounding words that seem to be mocking you with their importance. Somehow there are clauses that have sub clauses that are then further broken down into sub-subclauses. It feels heavy to be handed this on a Monday morning. Truthfully, this doesn’t seem like something a soon-to-be twenty-one year old woman who literally just graduated college, albeit a semester early, should be allowed to sign without parents and a lawyer present.
This is just supposed to be a simple job working part time as a maid for your best friend's family’s cleaning company. A job where she promised easy money and part time hours that you set for yourself. The perfect opportunity for you to be able to save money AND set aside lots of study time for your upcoming LSAT rewrite. You passed it a few months ago and applied to a bunch of law schools, but you aren’t going to waste these next few months waiting around. You know how competitive law schools can be, so you’re preparing to be better just in case you don’t get in.
Your eyes scan words that your brain can’t seem to comprehend. The internal panic starts to bubble in your chest, someone who has law aspirations should know what these words mean.
This is just supposed to be easy. Cleaning. Vacuuming. Washing floors. Simple things.
But now, as you sit in this shiny, fancy downtown office building looking at your full legal name typed beside a bunch of ‘initial here’ and ‘sign here’ lines on a nondisclosure agreement you’re starting to feel like this is anything but simple.
“Our clientele is VERY exclusive,” your childhood best friend Jamie says. She looks very professional and grown up sitting behind her glass desk. Her long, toned legs are crossed, the slit along the side of her crisp, white pencil skirt showing off her tanned upper thigh. She’s paired her white skirt with a baby pink silky blouse that's perfectly tucked into the high waist of the skirt. Her long, dark silky hair is twisted into a jeweled claw clip. Even though you’re the same age she has an air of sophistication and grace, even with winged eyeliner, a matte pink lip, and a slender rose gold septum ring that sits tight to her little button nose. She almost screams old Hollywood in the middle of Austin, Texas.
She continues, “You won’t know the names of the clients and they will never be home. If they do come home, leave immediately, and try your best not to be seen or heard. Then you can fill out in the company app what you did and didn’t manage to get done.”
You put the paper down on her perfect desk so she can’t see your hands shaking. How can you work at that desk all day and not get a single fingerprint or smudge on it? There’s a very good chance that I am not cut out for this. This is fancy. And expensive. I’m neither of those things.
“What am I gonna be walking in on at these houses, Jamie?” You ask, swallowing the fiberglass that’s suddenly prickling at your throat.
Jamie shakes her head and laughs, saying your name through her melodic giggles. “Most likely nothing. We’ve never had an encounter or run in with a client. They pick times for cleaners to come when they aren’t home.” She leans back in her high backed chair and continues, “But the clients are big deals. Politicians. Judges. Athletes. The odd celebrity. They don’t want anyone in their home that will snoop or snap pictures. Hence the NDA.”
“Well, why didn’t you start with that!” You laugh. “Jesus, I thought I’d be walking into like a virginal sacrifice or some shit!”
“Well, there was that one time…” Your face drops and she immediately starts laughing again. “I’m kidding. Relax. Look, you’ll probably get three homes a week, each house will take six to eight hours. The hourly pay is twenty dollars plus whatever tip they’ll leave you in these black envelopes.”
She puts a perfectly polished finger on a stack of black envelopes with a red ‘Maid Discretely’ logo on it and continues, “In my experience, the tips are around five hundred, completely tax free. This is a good gig! You’ll be in law school becoming smarter than all of us in no time. Fuck, you’ll be writing insane contracts like those before we know it.”
She stands, one hand resting on the desk while the other slides the paper towards you with a closed pen. She drops the writing apparatus on top of it, the metal casing of the pen clanging loudly on her glass desk. You let out an exasperated sigh, dramatically clicking the pen before signing the NDA. Jamie claps her hands excitedly then snatches the contract away before you can rip it up and says, “Let’s get your uniform and supplies!”
She hands you a few fitted white polo style t-shirts, black dress pants, white Keds (that she scolds are for inside the houses only), a caddy full of high end cleaning supplies, a top of the line Dyson vacuum and everything else you’ll need.
She ends your meeting with instructions on how the company's scheduling and tracking app works. "Essentially, you set the days and times you’re available and it will populate for you. You’ll have addresses, dates and times, as well as tasks to be done, all nicely laid out for you. If a client likes you, they can request you for additional shifts, but for continuity purposes you should get the same couple houses that you’ll rotate through throughout the month."
You nod along, mostly surprised to hear the girl who did a keg stand just a few days ago sound so professional, using words like 'continuity purposes'.
The next day you have your first official shift. Tuesday from nine to three and you’re scheduled at a mansion in a neighborhood you’ve never heard of and you most definitely wouldn’t fit in to. Jamie is already waiting there for you when you pull up. She explained yesterday that she’d help you with the first one and then you are on your own after that. Well, not completely alone. Your iPhone is loaded full of smutty audio books, murder podcasts, and law books to listen to as you clean.
Jamie was right, you think to yourself as you scroll to the latest romance novel you’ve downloaded and grab your AirPods, this is a good gig.
The house is absolutely massive, and you highly doubt you’ll be done in six hours. You gather all your stuff and head up to the house. Jamie shows you where the company supplied key box is and how to open it from the app. As you grab the key Jamie excitedly says, “This used to be my client. He always leaves a huge tip!”
You unlock the large front glass door and enter into a white marble foyer. The windows on the first floor are easily ten feet tall and allow in so much natural light. Gold and obsidian swirls in the marble reflect along the walls, dancing in the sunlight. To the left of the front door is a large open kitchen that might be bigger than your entire apartment. The marble of the expansive countertop is the same colour as the foyer. All the cabinetry is matte black with brushed gold handles. The kitchen opens into a lavish living room, a massive fireplace and TV sits on the far back left wall, encompassed by a very cozy looking white sectional.
To the right of the front door, starting furthest away from where you stand in awe, is a door to a huge half bathroom, followed by a long table with a bowl for keys and mail, and then the door that leads to the garage. About fifty feet in front of you is a grand staircase that branches out to the left and right. Beyond the staircase you can see into the backyard. This is by far the nicest house you’ve ever been in.
As both you and Jamie slip into your keds she says, “Upstairs to the left are a few bedrooms and the office. I usually started there and then went to the right side where he has a huge entertainment area. Then I would clean down here since he doesn’t cook very often and it’s usually just a quick wipe down.”
Just as you start to panic over how you’re supposed to remember all this she nudges you and adds, “But that’s all in the app for you, most of the clients are very particular so they’ll lay out exactly what order you should be cleaning in, as well as any other extra things they need done.”
She helps you carry all your stuff upstairs and then watches you work. Sure enough, the app says to start in the office so you do just that. Careful not to disturb the few piles of paperwork you dust the desk and shelves and then wipe down the windows and computer screen. You vacuum the hardwood and plush rug last and after Jamie gives you an approving nod, you move onto the next room.
You continue like that, going from room to room, your friend, and now boss, occasionally giving feedback or leaving to answer a phone call or respond to an email. The job is easy enough; repeating the same steps in each room over and over again. It’s the exact type of work you exceed at. You enjoy having clear sets of instructions and expectations, and a prioritized list where you can start at the top and work down. You’ve always excelled at following meticulous directions in school. Your life maybe not so much. When it comes to dating or your parents you aren’t one to do what you’re told.
When one o’clock rolls around you just have one bathroom upstairs and the already pristine downstairs to tend to, but Jamie coaxes you into taking your break, which is another thing you’re bad at. You were raised not to take breaks, taking a break or doing nothing means you're lazy. You should be working all the time, and pushing yourself to accomplish things. As a child you’d push and push yourself to be the best, honor roll ceremonies were the only time your dad would show up. He’d smile and brag about you to whoever was around.
“It’s important that you take all your supplies to your car with you when you eat your lunch. Never eat in their homes and never park on their driveways.” You nod and hoist all your stuff to the front step. “Make sure you lock up like you’re leaving too.”
“How am I doing so far?” You ask as you lock the door, your stomach growling loudly as if it needs to prove to her how hard you’re working. You hadn’t realized how much of an appetite you’d gain just from cleaning. The few stale crackers and small can of tuna you managed to find in your cupboard this morning doesn’t seem like it’s going to be enough.
“Really well! I actually think I might leave you to finish up. Don’t forget to take whatever he left for you out of the black envelope on the kitchen counter.” She doesn’t look up at you, her fingers tapping out an email on her shiny iphone screen. She doesn’t have her phone in a case and you can only imagine the level of self confidence you have to have to carry around an expensive item unprotected like that.
“Is it weird that there’s no pictures or anything of the family that lives here?” You say curiously as you both walk towards your parked vehicles.
“No,” she says flatly. “I think it’s just one person here and that’s pretty normal for the houses you’ll be cleaning. Lots of them are rarely home or only home to sleep.”
You gawk at the massive house from across the street as you throw all your supplies in the back of your used and rusted SUV. One person lives here. Alone. How is this possible? He’s clearly doing well for himself. Either he’s really lonely or a complete asshole.
After you eat, you head back inside to finish up cleaning. The entire house looks like a show home. Not a single thing out of place. The kitchen seems staged, void of life aside from a tiny droplet of coffee on the countertop beside the Italian coffee maker, and a tiny brown stegosaurus toy that sits on top of it. Two minutes before the end of your shift you do a final sweep to make sure you haven’t left anything behind and then slip open the black envelope. Inside you find seven one hundred dollars and a note that just says ‘TY - JM’.
As you log your day in the company app you can’t believe you just made seven hundred freaking dollars to clean up after a man who makes no messes. You excitedly check your upcoming schedule and it looks like you’ll be back here in two more weeks. You could potentially be getting fourteen hundred dollars a month from this elusive “JM”. A man with no pictures or personal touches in his shiny white, black and gold mansion.
It’s been almost two weeks since your first clean at JM’s house. Your other clients were good tippers, usually between four to five hundred, but you’ve been looking forward to going back. You know you’re not supposed to know who the clients are, but you couldn’t help but google JM to try to figure out who he is and how he has so much money. In hindsight, you guess all your clients have money, but something about him has alerted your curiosity. He seems like smoke, or a ghost, in his own home. Your other clients had some sort of semblance of life in their houses. A dent in the pillow. An open newspaper on the kitchen table. A coffee cup dropped in the sink before they headed off to whatever fancy job they have to afford such a massive house. A toilet seat left up or a smudge of toothpaste on the mirror.
But not JM.
No, the only thing JM left was a tiny droplet of coffee. Coffee that was probably imported straight from Italy. You’re almost ashamed of the amount of times you’ve wondered about that stegosaurus toy. It seems so out of place in his house of clean lines and sterility.
You’re just settling in to enjoy a Sunday night of sushi, rosé and Bridgerton with your roommate when your phone bings, a little red notification bubble popping up on the Maid Discretely app. You have an added shift request for JM tomorrow. Instead of one six hour shift on Tuesday you now have two six hour shifts. You accept the request and scroll through the tasks. He’s requested you to wipe the baseboards and lightswitches on the main floor, a deep scrub of every bathroom, as well as doing the inside of the fridge, stove and microwave. There are also instructions for washing the sheets in the main bedroom, and spraying down the patio furniture around the pool.
Only a millionaire in Texas would ask for his pool furniture to be cleaned in February.
Shortly after you accept the shift you get a text from Jamie:
Saw you accepted the shift. The client asked for the normal clean on the first day, please. Extras the next day. Thanks.
The following morning you head to the large, bright mansion. Parking across the street and hauling all your stuff in. It feels a bit weird to be here on a Monday and you have a feeling you’ll be reminding yourself all day that it is indeed Monday and not Tuesday.
You get all your stuff together, change into your indoor company issued keds and head up the stairs. The pink and orange hues of the sunrise glitters off the white marble tiles, glints of gold and sparkling black reflecting off of it. You take a second to look down from the landing as you pop in your airpods. It really is a beautiful home, and it’s too bad that whoever lives here is either lonely or an asshole, but for a split second you let yourself pretend that you and JM just finished making love and he’s now in the kitchen making you an espresso or a latte with that insanely fancy coffee machine in the kitchen. You shake your head at yourself. You didn’t find anything when googling, which isn’t surprising since two letters aren’t much to go on, but this house seems to draw you in, like it’s calling to you. It’s strange, it’s almost like you have a crush on this house and you couldn’t help but make a whole persona for whoever lives here. Even with its clean lines and lack of life, something about it settles in your gut, it feels like home.
You scroll your podcast app trying to pick what episode you want to listen to and head down the hall, you can’t seem to decide so you pocket your phone without starting anything and reach for the matte black handle of the office door. You’re expecting to see JM’s tidy office with a few stacks of paperwork in one corner, but the sight you find before you has all the blood rush from your head and your stomach dropping right out of your body. Your jaw drops and you freeze in utter shock and fear.
Instead of the usual stacks of paper, there’s an icy blond haired woman tied to the desk. She’s completely naked and on her back with her legs spread wide. Her ankles are tied to the legs of the desk with a scratchy looking rope, her wrists wrapped in matching rope and resting above her head. Her nipples are almost purple underneath the clothespin attached to them. You freeze, just the lewd wet noises of her pussy being worked furiously by the mysterious, fully clothed JM. His deep, commanding, gravel filled voice reverberates through the office. “Little fuckin' slut. Gonna split you in two.”
The woman lets out an unashamed cry of pleasure. Your entire body seems to go numb as your caddy falls from your hand, crashing loudly against the hardwood flooring. His head whips to the side, the icy blonde woman letting out a scream and trying to cover herself up. Your hands cover your mouth and even though you can’t feel your legs you spin and run for the stairs.
“Fuck. Fuck. Wait,” JM calls after you.
One of your AirPods falls from your ear as you run, you’re tempted to stop and grab it but you need to get out of here. Jamie’s voice echoes through your skull, ‘try your hardest not to be seen or heard’.
He catches up to you as you reach the front entryway, his strong hand pushing the door closed. You can feel the heat of his body against your back. You’re shaking - both from being terrified and embarrassed. You have so many thoughts running through your mind. This will get you fired, or worse, you could have just possibly lost the company a client. Fuck. You aren’t supposed to know who lives here and you certainly aren’t supposed to see them doing that.
“Please wait,” he says softly behind you and the heat of his broad body sends a chill down your spine.
The blood is rushing through your ears as your heart pounds in your throat. You don’t like confrontation and even with the softness in his voice, you’re sure he’s about to scream at you. You feel sick, and when you replay the words he said to the woman upstairs, and the sound of her moan that made you drop your caddy you start to feel dizzy and nervous.
Your hand falls from the handle of the front door and the brick wall of a man behind you steps back. You spin slowly to face him but keep your eyes on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, linking your fingers in front of you and focusing all your attention on the cuticle of your right thumb.
“No, please. This is my fault.” You trail your eyes from the floor to him. He's in perfectly pressed black dress pants paired with a white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his forearms and he’s holding his hands up in front of himself as if to show you he isn’t armed or as a way to say 'you’re safe here'.
You flick your eyes up to his face and he’s looking at you softly, the morning sunrise lighting up his tanned face and salt and pepper hair. JM is probably twice your age, but he is incredibly handsome.
“I am so sorry. I must’a got my days mixed up when I booked you.” He says, a soft southern accent sneaking out.
“I’m going to get fired,” you respond shakily.
“No,” he says stepping forward, you subsequently take a step back, pressing your body against the glass front door. Something about this man makes you nervous, but not in the same way women are trained to be nervous of strange men that are almost twice their size. “No. This is my fault. Please, let me explain. I jus’ gotta - well, can I go deal with…” his head cocks towards the stairs, “And then let me explain. Please?”
You look at him, his handsome face all soft and apologetic. His dark brown and amber eyes dance around your face and without realizing you're even doing it, you nod your head.
“Thank you,” he drops his hands at his side, visibly relaxing at your decision not to run. “Sit at the island for me. I’ll be back.”
He watches you as you pad over to the island. The tall bar chair squeaks on the tile floor as you pull it out. He peels his eyes from you and heads upstairs. When you sit you have to stop from moaning out, the pressure of your body weight there sends a wave of rolling pleasure through you.
What the fuck?
It’s a dull, throbbing ache followed by a small gush of thick wetness. Did you mistake a feeling of arousal for dizziness and nervousness upstairs? Were you turned on by what you just witnessed?
Certainly not. There’s no way! He was, well, he wasn’t being nice to that woman.
Soon you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and towards the foyer, his body blocks her from your view as they talk at the front door. They speak in hushed voices, all you’re able to make out is her saying thank you followed by the sound of a soft kiss and then she’s gone.
She thanked him? It seems like he should be thanking her.
He wanders into the kitchen and your throat goes impossibly dry. As if he can read your every need, he grabs a glass from the cabinet, puts it under the water dispenser on his fridge door and then slides the glass across the large island to you. You have to lift off the chair to reach it, whispering a thank you before taking a sip.
JM leans against the countertop beside the fridge and watches you take a long drink. You put the glass down with a quiet clink and then fold your hands in your lap. His eye contact is intense, not in a creepy way, it’s almost like he’s assessing you. You find it hard to look at him so you avert your gaze to the glass.
He clears his throat gently before he starts. “I jus’ want to say how sorry I am. You didn’t consent to seein’ any of that and I can’t imagine how awful that was for you.” His voice is so calm and soft.
You flick your eyes up to him, “No, this is my fault. I am not suppose-“
JM shakes his head and holds up one hand, signaling you to stop. “No. This was me. I got my days mixed up. Meant to book ya for next week. This ain’t on you. This was my mistake. If it’s ok for me to ask, what’s your name?”
You mumble your name into your glass and down the rest of your water. You figure you’re probably fired either way so who cares if he knows who you are. His face ticks up slightly, almost like he’s proud of you for drinking, and says your name back to you.
“I ain’t gonna say anythin’ to your boss and I understand if you want to leave for the day. I’ll pay ya either way. I also understand if you say somethin’ to them and I can’t be a client anymore. It was unacceptable for me to be doin’ that when you’re supposed to be here. There ain’t any other way to word it. I was inappropriate and wrong.” He steps forward and holds his hand out so you slide the glass across to him.
He refills it and puts it back for you to grab. “No,” you say, your voice cracking. After clearing your throat you continue, “No, I appreciate your apology but I’m not going to say anything.”
He watches you again as you drain the glass, the same look of pride flashes across his eyes, “I’ll - umm - I’ll be in my office. You can uh,” he runs a hand through his scruff, “You just do whatever you need. I’ll stay outta your way.”
He disappears before you can say anything else. You head up the stairs after a few minutes to find your cleaning caddy sitting in the hall with everything placed neatly where it belongs. His office door is closed and you can hear the deep rumble of his voice while he’s on a call. You grab your things, head into the master bedroom and begin cleaning.
A few hours later while you’re sitting in your car eating lunch, the garage door opens and JM goes whipping past you in the sexiest blacked out sports car you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even look over you as he speeds by. Your heart sinks, it's unexplainable but being in that house with him there, even after what you witnessed, felt more comfortable than being alone. JM must have some sort of magic touch, how you went from nervous and embarrassed to calm and comforted with just the look on his face and few words is beyond you.
After wiping down the kitchen you are all done for the day. You grab the black and red envelope off the kitchen counter and open it, peering in nervously. There’s a piece of matte black paper on top. You slide it out gently, the paper feels expensive between your fingers. As you unfold it you reveal a shiny black JMK logo at the top. In neat gold lettering is his writing.
‘Please know how sorry I am. Your consent is more important than anything. I broke that. Just hope I didn't break your trust. -Joel Miller.’
At the bottom of the envelope are ten crisp one hundred dollar bills.
Next Chapter
#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel x reader#pedrohub#joel miller fanfiction#daddy joel#joel x female reader#joel x y/n#joel x oc#joel x you#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#joel miller x original character#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x oc#joel miller au#millionaire!Joel miller#bdsmaid#dom!joel miller
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OMG PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING WITH JJ X FEM READER WHERE HE SURVIVED I NEED HAPPY ENDING PLEASE
Blue Crown — JJ Maybank
**Season 4 part 2 spoiler alert! read at your own risks ⚠️
Summary : In which the only way to help JJ is by getting that blue crown back from Chandler Groff.
JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
Warnings : usage of knife, heavy language, violence, blood, gun, english is not my first language
A/N : im afraid this is my coping mechanism, oh btw rafe's not in this story i just dont know what i would do with him
The midday sun blazed high, unbroken and blinding, but the sandstorm approached like a golden wave, shimmering in the light. The air grew hot and dry, buzzing with an electric anticipation as gusts began to whip up the ground. In moments, the bright world transformed, the desert around cloaked in a chaotic dance of light and sand.
Grains swirled furiously, each one catching the sunlight, creating a blinding haze of gold and white. Visibility shrank to a few feet, the sandstorm casting the world in a strange, glowing fog. It was harsh, relentless, every breath filled with the sting of earth and sun, an unstoppable force of nature bearing down with brilliant fury.
JJ’s feet finally hit the dusty ground, the force of his landing sending a cloud of sand and dirt rising into the air. The narrow alleyway of Essaouira echoed with the sound of his boots hitting the cobblestones as he steadied himself. He clutched the wrapped blue crown in his hands, his knuckles white. “You good?” I asked, my voice full of concern as I stepped closer to him, eyes scanning his face for any signs of strain.
“I’m good, I’m good. I’m better, actually. I’m great!” JJ said with a grin that seemed to spread across his face like wildfire. He rushed over to me, pulling the scarf from the crown with quick, excited movements. “Cause look!” he exclaimed, his voice full of energy.
He held up the crown, now revealed, but it was covered in dust, the rich blue stones clouded by the grime of their journey. Despite the dirt, the crown’s intricate design was unmistakable, its value evident even beneath the layers of dust. My breath caught in my throat as I saw it, this relic, this symbol of everything we had lost. “No way, oh my god,” I whispered, my eyes wide with disbelief. My grin mirrored JJ’s as we both stood there for a moment, taking in the weight of the moment.
JJ’s loud cheer broke the silence, ringing out into the alleyway and bouncing off the high walls of the medina. “I... I did it!” he shouted, the sheer joy and relief in his voice undeniable.
I couldn’t help but laugh, my heart swelling with pride. “Do you know what this means?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as if I didn’t want to jinx it.
“Oh yeah, I do,” JJ said, his grin widening. His eyes shone with an intensity that made everything feel possible again. “We’re getting it back. We’re getting back our home.”
His words hung in the air between us, full of hope and the promise of a new beginning. I couldn’t help but smile as I wrapped my arms around him tightly. “You did it, baby. You did it!” I whispered in his ear, my heart hammering in my chest.
For a moment, everything felt right, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from our shoulders. But then, a cold chill ran down my spine, and I sensed something shift in the air. JJ’s expression changed in an instant, his eyes narrowing as he looked behind me, his body tensing. Without a word, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, hard. “Wait, wait, hey! Go, go, go!” he shouted, his voice urgent, his grip tight on my wrist.
Before I could react, a sharp crack echoed through the air. The sound of a gunshot. The bullet whizzed past us, a split second away from tearing through the space where we had just been standing. My heart skipped a beat, and my body went into full panic mode.
“Run, run, run!” JJ yelled, pushing me forward, his hand at the small of my back, guiding me with the force of his desperation. The narrow streets of Essaouira stretched out ahead of us, winding and twisting like a maze, but we had no time to think, only to move. The sound of the gunshot still reverberated in my ears as we sprinted through the bustling medina, the faded buildings on either side almost closing in on us, the warm air heavy with the scent of saltwater from the distant ocean.
I could hear the sound of heavy boots behind us, pounding against the stones. The mercenaries were closing in. I could feel my lungs burning as I pushed my legs harder, adrenaline fueling every step.
“C’mon, Y/N, we gotta find the others!” JJ shouted from ahead, his voice sharp but full of focus. He had a plan. I could tell by the way he moved, the urgency in his every step. He was determined, but so was I. We had come this far, and we weren’t about to lose everything now.
We reached a narrow staircase that led downward into the heart of the maze of Essaouira’s old city. The steps were uneven, some worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, others jagged and crumbling. We had to be careful as we descended, not just from the chase, but from the danger of slipping on the worn stones. My pulse raced as we moved, the sound of our feet pounding against the stone seeming deafening in the otherwise still air.
JJ called out to me, “Hey, Y/N! This way!” His voice came from behind, but I didn’t look back. I had a feeling this was our only chance to lose the mercenaries. I kept my head down and pushed forward, following the winding path through the narrow streets and alleys.
Finally, we reached a small open space near the bottom of the staircase, a brief moment of cover amidst the tightly packed buildings. The view of the city below was dizzying, the sea stretched out in the distance, and the maze of whitewashed houses. But I couldn’t afford to enjoy the view, or at least not yet. I turned to take a breath, my body trembling with exhaustion, “J!” I called out and just as I did, I felt a sharp pressure against my neck. A strong arm wrapped around me from behind, dragging me backward with frightening speed.
I gasped, my breath choking in my throat, as I struggled against the iron grip around my neck. My heart hammered in fear. “Shh!” The man behind me grunted, his grip tightening, cutting off any chance of air. My mind raced—how had they gotten so close? Where was JJ?
“Quiet, quiet. Shut—” His voice was low, guttural, as he squeezed harder.
“J!” I managed to croak out, each word a desperate gasp for air.
“Y/N,” I heard JJ’s voice, strained but strong, coming from the shadows. My heart leapt as I caught sight of him, standing firm, one arm shielding his face from the dust swirling in the air. “JJ!” I cried, relief flooding my chest, though fear still gripped me.
“Let her go,” JJ commanded, his voice cold but unwavering.
The man behind me stiffened, and I heard him growl, “Stop right there.” And that was when the weight of the situation hit me. The voice was unmistakable, Chandler Groff. JJ's biological father.
I swallowed hard, every muscle in my body tense, ready to fight back, but I couldn’t move. My body was locked in place, held captive by his suffocating grip. All I could do was let out weak grunts, trying to free myself from the hold, my hands instinctively pressing against his arm in a futile attempt to loosen it.
“Don’t move,” Groff ordered, his voice venomous as he squeezed harder. My lungs burned, and I gasped for air. His grip was like iron, and I could feel my vision beginning to blur. I tapped at his arm in a silent plea, trying to signal that I couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t seem to care.
“You know what I want,” Groff said, his voice laced with a twisted calm as he extended his hand toward JJ. “Give it to me.”
JJ’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it was full of resolve. “Just let her go.”
Groff chuckled bitterly, his breath hot against my ear. “You could’ve stuck with me, JJ,” he sneered, his words dripping with regret. “Think of what you could’ve had."
I felt the cold edge of a knife press against my cheek, and my breath caught in fear. “But now,” Groff continued, his voice growing darker, “you’re going to get nothing.”
I felt his grip tighten again as he hissed, “Nothing.”
JJ seemed distant, as if lost in his own thoughts. His eyes, focused but distant, flickered between Groff and the crown in his hand. Then, in a quiet but firm voice, he spoke. “No.” The word was resolute, cutting through the tension like a blade. He muttered to himself, barely audible, “I already have everything.”
I looked at him, confusion and worry swirling in my chest, but JJ didn’t seem to notice. His gaze grew distant, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And I already have everything I’ve wanted,” he continued, his voice almost hollow, as if he was saying the words to convince himself. “Things that you’ll never have,” he added, his smile somehow broken.
Suddenly, without warning, JJ held out the crown, the weight of it now settling between us like a silent challenge. His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. “You want the crown?”
Groff’s eyes locked onto the crown, and for a moment, his expression softened, as if the object was the only thing that mattered. “Sure, take it,” JJ said, his words cold, almost dismissive. “Take it. I don’t want it,” he reassured, his eyes never leaving Groff’s.
“Just… let her go,” JJ’s voice was low, but there was a sharpness to it now, a finality. Groff’s hand shot out greedily, reaching for the crown. “Perfect,” he said with a grin, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Hold it out.”
“Take it,” JJ repeated, his voice unwavering, no trace of doubt in it. His eyes were locked on Groff’s, his stance firm. “Easy,” JJ added, the words low, but there was something steady about them. He was ready for this. He was ready for this moment to be over.
I could barely breathe, my chest tight as I watched them, my heart racing. My body was still trembling from the fear, but I could sense the shift in JJ’s demeanor. His resolve was unwavering now.
“Hold it out. Come on,” Groff urged, his hand outstretched, fingers grasping for the prize.
In that instant, JJ pulled me into his embrace, and I gasped as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close to his chest. I buried my head in his neck, gasping for air, the pressure lifting from my lungs as I felt the safety of his hold. My hands instinctively wrapped around him, holding him tight, as if making sure this wasn’t a dream.
“I got you,” JJ murmured, his voice thick with relief. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek, steady and strong. His arms tightened around me as if afraid to let go. “It’s okay,” he whispered again, the words soothing, though his voice still trembled with the remnants of fear.
I pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, and my heart swelled. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, the words heavy with all the gratitude and emotion I couldn’t fully express.
JJ’s grip tightened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like everything would be okay.
“JJ.” Groff’s voice sliced through the tense silence like a blade, and JJ stiffened, his body reluctant but yielding. Slowly, he pulled away from me, his movements slow, almost pained, as if every inch away from me felt like a sacrifice. He turned to face Groff, his expression hardening, the relief of the moment slipping away as he steeled himself for whatever was coming.
Groff stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, like a predator toying with its prey. “It’s a shame,” he said, his tone low and almost mournful, though there was no sincerity behind it. His voice carried the weight of a long-forgotten history, one that neither JJ nor I could escape from. “You and me,” Groff continued, his words heavy with regret or perhaps mockery, there was no telling. I stood silently behind JJ, my hands still gripping his shirt, my pulse racing.
Suddenly, I heard the sickening squelch of flesh, and JJ jerked forward, his body lurching as if the world had been ripped out from beneath him. My breath caught in my throat, and I let out a shaky, disbelieving gasp. No, no, no, this can’t be happening. My mind was scrambling to process what I was seeing, but everything seemed to slow, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
I heard JJ’s groan, a deep, painful sound that tore through the air. My stomach dropped, my heart racing. The knife had sunk deeper. “No,��� I whispered, my voice trembling as my hands shook, my body frozen in place. And then, as if to mark the moment, I heard Groff’s voice, dark and cold as it slid through the air. “You could have given me the rope,” he murmured, his voice heavy with cruel satisfaction. His tone was like poison, dripping with malice.
Before I could even react, Groff pulled the knife out with a sickening, deliberate slowness. The sound of it tearing through JJ’s flesh was unbearable, sending a shudder through me. I watched as the dark blood poured from his side, staining his shirt, his skin. Groff didn’t even seem to care, his eyes devoid of any emotion as he took one last, final look at his son.
And then, with an almost casual air, he turned away, walking off as if nothing had happened, as if the pain he caused was nothing more than a fleeting moment in his day.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. My body moved without thinking, rushing forward, reaching for him just in time to catch him before he hit the ground. JJ crumpled in my arms, his body too heavy, too weak to stay upright. His hand instinctively clutched his wound, pressing desperately against the blood that poured from him. His face was pale, his eyes glazed, but still, he tried to hold himself together.
“JJ! No!” I cried out, my voice breaking. I lowered him gently to the ground, my hands shaking violently as I tried to arrange him, to make him comfortable, but nothing felt right. “No, no, no,” I whispered, over and over, as if saying it could somehow make the horror stop.
JJ’s breathing was shallow, ragged, every exhale more painful than the last. His lips parted, his voice barely a whisper, and the words that came from him shattered my heart into a million pieces. "I never told you my wish," he groaned, his hand trembling as he reached up to grab mine. His eyes searched mine with a kind of desperate pleading, but there was nothing I could do to stop the blood that poured from him, nothing I could do to undo the damage.
“JJ–,” I whispered, my voice cracking as tears began to well in my eyes. But his eyes were growing heavier. His body trembled, and I felt him sag against me, his hand slipping from mine. The breath he took was so weak, so labored. It was as if the world was slipping away from him, and I was powerless to stop it.
His lips parted again, and this time, the words that left him were barely a breath. "I already got it" The words were soft, too soft, as if he didn’t have the strength to say them. But in that moment, they crushed me more than anything else could.
“No, no, no, JJ.” I clung to him, my voice barely a whisper, but it trembled with all the fear and desperation I felt. I tried to hold him together, my arms shaking as I cradled his fragile body, willing him to stay with me. “You can’t leave, please don’t leave me.” My words cracked under the weight of the pain.
His breath was ragged, barely audible as he managed to speak, his voice strained and faint. "I love you, Y/N." The words came out in a broken gasp, as though they were the last thing he could say.
“I love you too, JJ. So much," I whispered through my tears, my heart shattering with every second. "Please, please don't go. I can't lose you, not now, not like this. You can’t leave me." My sobs wracked my body, the reality of the moment crashing down on me, but I refused to let go, even if I knew I was losing him.
And still, there was no response. His body became heavier in my arms, his head lolling to the side, and my chest tightened painfully as I realized how much I was losing. I pressed my hand to his wound, but I knew it was futile. His blood was everywhere, soaking through my fingers, and I could do nothing but hold him as he closed his eyes. I could feel the warmth of his fading life slipping through my grasp.
I felt the tears burning in my eyes as I whispered again, “JJ”
And all I could do was hold him, wishing for a miracle that would never come. The weight of his body in my arms felt like a thousand pounds, each breath he took growing more shallow, more labored. The world around me was nothing but a blur of pain, fear, and hopelessness. My hands were shaking, covered in his blood, and I could do nothing to stop it. "John B!" I screamed again, my voice cracking as I looked desperately around, hoping they would somehow hear me. "Pope!" I yelled, but the words felt hollow, lost in the chaos of my thoughts.
It was like time slowed as I held him, the seconds stretching painfully long. My heart was tearing apart with every breath he struggled to take. Suddenly, I heard footsteps, familiar voices calling out to me. I looked up through my blurry vision, and there they were.
John B and Sarah appeared first, their faces stricken with shock and confusion, but it was the moment they exchanged a glance that I knew they understood the gravity of what was happening. The look between them spoke volumes, a shared recognition that this was life or death.
Then, Pope, Kiara, and Cleo rushed in, their faces mirroring the same horror. Kiara’s eyes filled with tears, but she bit her lip, fighting them back, while Cleo’s hand trembled as she kneeled down beside me. Everyone was in shock, but the urgency in the air made it clear: something had to be done, and fast.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. My body shook with sobs, my chest tightening as I buried my face in JJ’s hair, whispering over and over, “Please... don’t leave me.”
Suddenly, amidst the haze of grief, it hit me, the crown. The crown! I gasped, my eyes wide with realization, my voice trembling as I turned to John B. “John B, the crown!” I nearly choked on the words. “Please get the crown back... It could save his life.” I reached for him desperately, my hands gripping his arm. “Please, it could save him. Groff took it. He has the crown!”
John B and Sarah exchanged a quick look, their minds already working, already on the move. John B nodded grimly. “We’re getting it back,” he said firmly, turning to Pope, who was already on his feet, determined.
Pope wiped the sweat from his brow, eyes steely with resolve. “Where is he? Where did Groff go?” he asked, voice low and steady, though I could see the urgency in his eyes.
“Somewhere nearby,” I whispered, choking on my breath. “He can’t be far. You have to find him... the crown can grant a wish... It’s our only chance to save him.”
They both nodded to each other and immediately sprinted off, their eyes scanning the surroundings, their minds racing to figure out where Groff would have gone.
Meanwhile, Kiara, Sarah and Cleo stayed with me, doing their best to comfort me. But nothing could bring me peace. I was too afraid, too consumed by the image of JJ growing weaker and weaker in my arms. Every second felt like an eternity.
John B and Pope moved through the winding streets of Essaouira with a precision born of desperation. They didn’t need words to communicate anymore, their shared focus on getting the crown back drove them forward. They knew the stakes were higher than ever.
After what felt like hours, John B finally spotted Groff’s silhouette in the distance. He motioned for Pope to follow him, and they carefully closed the distance. Groff was standing alone in the alley, the crown glinting in his hands, tucked safely within his grasp. His back was turned, unaware of the approaching threat.
Without a word, John B and Pope charged forward. “Groff!” John B shouted, voice cutting through the air. Groff turned, his face twisted into an amused smirk, as if he’d been expecting this.
“Routledge, you really are like your father, huh?” Groff sneered, his grip tightening around the crown. “You had your chance, kid, but now it’s mine.”
John B didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, throwing a punch that Groff barely dodged, but it was enough to send him stumbling backward. Pope followed, using the momentum to land a hard blow to Groff's side. Groff grunted but recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing with fury.
"You’ll never win, you know that?" Groff hissed, drawing a knife from his belt, the blade flashing in the dim light. "I’ve always been one step ahead of you."
John B and Pope exchanged a quick glance, knowing they had to act fast. John B charged again, dodging Groff’s swipe and knocking the knife from his hand. They were both quick, relentless, using every ounce of energy to fight him off.
Groff snarled in frustration as he tried to backpedal, but Pope tackled him from behind, sending them both tumbling to the ground. In the struggle, the crown fell from Groff’s grip, bouncing across the stone street. Without thinking, John B scrambled for it, grabbing the crown and standing up with it in his hand.
“I told you,” John B said breathlessly, looking down at Groff, “we’re gonna take back what's ours.”
Groff, seething with rage, scrambled to his feet, but he knew the battle was lost. He glared at John B and Pope with a venomous look, but he didn’t make another move. “This isn’t over,” he spat, before turning and disappearing into the shadows, leaving them standing victorious, but at a great cost.
John B and Pope rushed back to where I was, their eyes scanning the crowd. When they saw me still holding JJ, they didn’t need to ask. They knew. John B thrust the crown into my hands, his face filled with determination.
“We got it,” he said, panting from the exertion.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the crown, the only thing that could save him. I placed it gently onto JJ’s chest, my hands trembling. They all watched carefully as I closed my eyes, whispering a prayer to the universe. "Please, please let this work. I can’t lose you, JJ.”
And just like that, I felt a shift, a flicker of hope, a warm light growing from within the crown. The energy seemed to pulse, as if it was answering the wish I had silently made.
The moment the crown touched JJ’s chest, a strange warmth radiated from it, spreading through his body. I held my breath, my hands still trembling as I hovered over him, watching, praying for a sign. At first, nothing happened, just the faint rise and fall of his chest, the quiet whisper of his breaths filling the silence around us. But then, a soft glow began to emanate from the crown. It wasn’t bright or blinding, but it was enough to make the air feel charged, alive.
A shaky breath escaped my lips as I watched, my heart racing in my chest. I whispered again, my voice barely audible. "Please, JJ."
Suddenly, a jolt of warmth shot through my hands, and I felt the familiar weight of his body beneath me shift. His eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened, a faint groan escaping his lips.
"Y/N..." His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but it was there. He was still here. I felt a wave of relief crash over me, overwhelming and dizzying. His eyes met mine, and I saw the faintest hint of recognition.
"J" I gasped, my voice cracking as I leaned down, pressing my forehead to his. I couldn't stop the tears that drop from my eyes "Oh my god, I thought I lost you,"
He blinked a few times, as if trying to make sense of the world around him. His hand trembled as it reached up to touch my face, his fingers brushing against my skin as though confirming that I was real. His voice was still weak, but there was a clarity in his eyes now, a spark of life that hadn't been there moments before. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."
I let out a chuckle as tears streamed down my face, and I couldn’t stop them. "J.." I couldn’t finish the sentence, my throat too tight, my emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
JJ tried to sit up, but the movement caused him to wince, his hand pressing against his side where the wound still lingered. I gently placed my hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't" I said sternly.
He gave me a small, weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise."
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me, a sound of pure relief. I leaned down again, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You can't kill a pogue" He mumbled as he looked around at his friends, his voice thick with emotion.
JJ reached up, his hand cupping the back of my head, his thumb gently brushing against my hair.
I closed my eyes, holding him close, savoring the warmth of his body against mine. The crown still rested on his chest, glowing faintly, as though it had worked its magic. I didn’t know how, or why, or what kind of power it had, but in that moment, I didn’t care. All that mattered was that JJ was alive. He was here. And he wasn’t going anywhere.
I looked around at all of them, my heart swelling with gratitude for the people who had fought so hard to get him back. We had all been through so much, but in that moment, we were together. And no matter what came next, we had each other.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
likes and reblogs are appreciated 🐇
#outer banks#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank obx#jj maybank#jj maybank imagine#rafe cameron#drew starkey#netflix#rafe cameron imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#jj maybank rp#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank angst#jj maybank fluff#outerbanks season 4
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Fic Titles: Song Edition
Part V
Baby you gave me bad ideas - This is the last time, The National
All of your demons will wither away - Demons, Fatboy Slim feat. Macy Gray
His love is my favourite - Kill this love, Blackpink
Three points where two lines meet - Tessellate, alt-J
Kings of imagining things - The long haul, NO
Swallow all our pride - Fairytale gone bad, Sunrise Avenue
Keep your hand in mine - So cold, Breaking Benjamin
Take this veil from off my eyes - Doin' time, Lana del Rey
Unforgiven, I'm a villain - Unforgiven, Le Sserafim
Let me sleep in your arms - In your arms, Stanfour
All of my thoughts of you - Graceless, The National
Stay cool (it's just a kiss) - Talk too much, COIN
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt - Pyramid Song, Radiohead
I know it's pain (but I really want it so bad) - Want so bad, Lee Know + HAN
We could leave in the morning (and go all night) - They own this town, Flora Cash
You'll be the saddest part of me - The Loneliest, Måneskin
Don't need to say goodbye - The Call, Regina Spektor
When I'm alone, I'd rather be with you - 3005, Childish Gambino
It's just me and your ghost - me & ur ghost, blackbear
Tell ′em all I said hi - I said hi, Amy Shark
We don't gotta be in love - One of your girls, The Weeknd feat. Jennie, Lily-Rose Depp
The distance between you and me (it never seems to disappear) - Maybe if, BIBI
Say what you want (I'll keep it a secret) - One of your girls, Troye Sivan
I'm surrendering tonight - Collide, Rachel Platten
That's what you get when you let your heart win - That's what you get, Paramore
Give me a sign, I want to believe - The Ballad of Mona Lisa, Panic! at the Disco
Just a game that can't be won - Always on the run, Isaak Guderian
Your lips should be saying the same thing - Really, Blackpink
Still, I'm under your control now - Number 1, Nico Santos
Embracing all my scars and imperfections - Comflex, Stray Kids
More titles!
#writing inspiration#writeblr#writing prompts#creative writing#fic titles#writers on tumblr#songs#lyrics
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Welcome Home, Daddy
The aftermath of when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
Summary: Bucky was over the moon when he discovered that Y/N was pregnant with his child. But, when the danger that lurks in dark threatened to steal his family away, a fellow soldier decided to come home.
Note: Highly recommend to read 《 Welcome Home... Soldat? 》 for backstory. But, you can also read this as a stand alone (though you might miss some call backs on the soldat's behaviour if you skip)
Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader
Words: 7.1k++ (bare with me, please)
Warnings: graphic violence, torture, blood, gore, deaths, dark undertones, sudden fluff, tiny bit of angst, google translated russian, and just so much detained anger exploding around, soldat is just deadly yet adorable in this one (i can't even handle it, and i'm the author), this event takes place far in the future after what happened in 《 Welcome Home...Soldat? 》
A/N: Looks like we have the winner for the poll 👀 Who's ready for our lovely soldat to make his appearance again? I know I'm not, but here we are. So, strap in and let's do this!
P/S: Also, I might as well make this as my submission for the seven writing event hosted by @nickfowlerrr 💌 Check out the event masterlist and support the writers by reading and reblogging their stories!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
They say the wrath of a fighter may threatened a heinous war but the wrath of a lover will let the earth drenched in bloody gore. And if a fool was daft enough to tore a lover from his other half, then they might just court themselves right into the hands of death.
And this couldn't be more true, especially if we consider the crime that the soldat was currently committing. Surely, the blood pooling on the floor will forever leave a grim mark that'll haunt the people who ever witness it.
"Where is she?" the soldat prompted the frail woman, limping on the chained chair. Despite the horrid situation, he sounded rather calm when he spoke.
How unfortunate it was for Elle to be associated with Hydra yet to also be so exposed to the dangers of the ghost himself, the Winter Soldier. Hydra may have their suspicion about the soldat making a move, but she didn't expect that she would be involved in the mess of this ordeal.
The cold metal of the soldat's vibranium fingers, particularly his index and thumb, latched themselves on another one of her nails. Her mouth slacked open but no sound was able to be formed when the soldat mercilessly ripped her nail right off her finger.
And oh, the pain was beyond any kind of injury that she had ever experienced, not a even a bullet through her flesh could be compared to this agony of a torture.
He harshly grabbed Elle by the back of her neck, forcing her to watch the blood leaking from the reddened flesh of her fingers, "I asked you a simple question, су́ка (bitch). Where the fuck is she?" The soldat's patience had been running thin and rage had clouded his judgements.
He needed to find her. His precious Родная (darling).
No matter whose neck he needed to slay or whose blood that have to be shed dry. He had to bring his darling home; no matter what it takes.
Unfortunately, it had been almost a month since he lost her.
And no one saw it coming.
Who would've thought that the old Hydra compound that the team raided were meant to be a part of a plan to weaken the Avengers. It was just a distraction filled with unexpected traps and triggers. By the time they flew home, the team were already tired and injured as the result of the raid.
So imagine the desperate struggle and utter panic that Bucky had to go through the moment he stepped his foot into the comfort of their home and had to witness Y/N's exhausted figure fighting for her life.
Hers and the baby's inside.
After hitting the 2 months mark of pregnancy, Bucky decided that Y/N shouldn't be involved in any high stake mission anymore. At first, she only laughed to his statement, thinking he was surely joking but when his stern expression didn't flatter, that was when she reliazed Bucky was not open for negotiation.
Y/N knew it was way too early to settle into her maternal leave but after having a long conversation with Bucky, they both agreed to keep her missions strictly on low-risk stakeouts and desk works at the tower.
It was supposedly be some kind of a precaution for her, to keep her and the baby safe, away from any type harm that might come their way. But, that certainly back fired.
When Bucky's burning anger had pumped him full with high stream of adrenaline, it was as if he went into an auto pilot; a murderous one at that. And soon enough he managed to take down half of Hydra's best agents that joined the mission of collecting Y/N from the tower.
For a moment, it seemed like luck was on their side, at least it felt like it.
It lasted only until Bucky saw how harsh the kick of the enemy landed on Y/N's hip, and how she managed to shield her stomach seconds before her body slammed down to the ground.
That was when fear crawled into his pumping nerves and the roots of it ran extremely cold.
And that was all it takes for Hydra to distract Bucky then immobilize him on the spot with a replica of the Sonic Taser developed by Stark Industries a few years back.
Bucky grunted painfully in protest of the high pitched sonic frequency from the device that overloads his nervous system. His body couldn't help but to slowly paralyzed its movements as his skin turned pale and the strain in his blood vessels became visible.
On the opposite side, Y/N could be seen being forcefully dragged away by a few of the Hydra agents that was left. There were couple of nasty injuries torn all over her body yet she was still stubborn on fighting back.
While she was being pulled farther away from him, she shouted his name loud and desprete, "Bucky!" Hot tears broke from the corner of her eyes as she desperately reach out her hand.
It felt as if she was right there when Bucky's hand was reaching back towards her. Like, a little bit of a push would've been enough to catch her but alas fate was not planning to be merciful.
Bucky's menancing eyes never left her wavering ones as Hydra tortured Bucky by stealing a part of his soul from him; and no one really knew how his heart clenched and torn to the fact that he was helplessly useless when Y/N needed him the most.
And when he only managed to scream back Y/N's name, he was forced to watch her wailed as she was unwillingly being taken away.
The moment when Bucky drowned himself in regret and rage, that was when the Winter Soldier took over his consciousness.
Unfortunately for the soldat, his mortal body was already worn out from all the intense fight that happened prior; he was knocked out right after he took over the body.
But in those few seconds before the darkness consumed him, the soldat managed to catch a glimpse of his darling. He saw the image of her; teary and bruised in the hands of those who created him. The very same monsters who uses him for despicable things.
That was all that he needed to see in order to break those chains around the dark pandora residing deep within his being.
The team was absolutely not ready to deal with the soldat again, this time without Y/N to tame him. Especially when his demands were unrealistic for them to fulfill.
It's been nearly 3 weeks since the incident and they had failed to locate Y/N; repeatedly. Even if they did manage to get some kind of an intel, all the of bases they had raided were basically bunch of abandoned spaces that Hydra used to occupy.
So of course the soldat was agitated. He had every right to be, more so when he thought of the increasing risk of his darling getting hurt in the hands of Hydra. And at this point, those scumbags were just messing with their minds. Especially with his.
"Listen, we're doing our best here, soldat." Steve tried to reason with him but it only fueled the burning flames within the soldat, "ты делаешь недостаточно! (You're not doing enough!)" He spat harshly that he didn't even noticed that he uses Russian language. It seemed like the unkempt irritation had conquered the chaos of his mind.
So that very night, the soldat decided to do this on his own; thus he ran away from the tower in search for his darling. He had to. Especially when he knew precisely why the Avenger was not able to find Y/N as quickly as they should be.
It was because they were the good guys. They were the heros, they were the light. And the soldat was not. In fact, he was the very opposite.
Unlike the Avengers, the soldat was not planning to play nice and soon enough he managed to find a lead.
Which bring us to this very moment in which he successfully snuck into a Hydra agent's home to interrogate her.
But, in contrast of those Hydra troops that attack the Avengers Tower a few weeks ago, Elle was not even involved in the mission of retrieving Y/N. She was actually on a solo mission to infiltrate a certain high school to collect informations on Peter Parker. Hydra suspected that he might be involved with the new hero appearing in Queens.
However, even if she was not a part of the team mission, she knew bits and pieces of the overall plan, especially the whereabout of the main character herself, Y/N.
However, the appearance of the Winter Soldier in her temporary house was completely unexpected.
It felt like it was just few moments ago that the intel on Y/N's location reached her ears. Then, she distinctly remember the glimpse of those murderous eyes glaring into her soul. Next thing she knew was everything went pitch black.
Even if it was temporary, however it felt so surreal.
The darkness surrounding her.
The bone rattling cold.
It felt like death itself.
But unfortunately for her, the soldat was far from stopping.
Elle was fraying at the edges while the soldat crouch to her level. Even if she could barely reconstruct the unclear and blurry images through her dazed eyes, however, that didn't stop the soldat from maiming the dying woman's soul through his unforgiving gaze.
"Wake up..." he growled as he yanked her face upwards, "...we're not done yet."
It took a while for Elle to finally adjust to the light, after being in the dark for – how she felt like – so long.
After the light hits her vision, the striking pain came next. The pulsing pain surrounding of her right eye, her broken nose, her busted lips, her bleeding skin; neck, chest, arms, and almost every part of her limbs.
Everything were – slowly but surely, in each cuts and bruises on her skin – blooming its pain into existence.
How can she skipped all of this when she lost her consciousness?
Perhaps that was how she managed to stay alive as long as she had. By running away from the misery; from her reality.
Elle whined in pain but her voice suggested that she might already torn her throat apart when it sounded more like a broken grunt. Her disoriented gaze fell into her aching fingers, each were missing its nail; the tips of them was where the icky blood trickled from and had shaped a pool of blood on the floor where she rested.
The dim lighting from the room reflected on the surface of the deep-red puddle, revealing the resemblance of it to a mirror. And the blurry image looking back, was the soldat, with a sinister expression on his face.
This game, that they're playing.
It hardly seems fair to one of them. To be tortured if not speaking the truth? That's simply unjust; but if we're talking about fairness, then none of those injuries could ever be compared to the pain Y/N might be going through at this very moment. Every second of Elle's useless stubbornness was costing Y/N's safety.
And the soldat didn't like that. Not one bit.
"You mentioned Spain? Where exactly?" In one swift, harsh motion, the soldat thrust his knife through her thighs, "FUCK!"
The loud scream of pain that tore from Elle's throat was probably the last coherent word that she uttered as the torture continued.
The soldat pulled the knife out and stabbing it into the open wound, he listened to Elle's gasp for a moment, relishing her breathless pleading and the tears now openly streaming down her face.
He stabbed again, twice, each was quick and deep, not caring about the blood that spurted out across his face.
At this point Elle was just a puddle of blabbering mess; streams of saliva pouring out her mouth, sobbing, gasping for air; mixture of grunts, moans and whispers of curses and pleas were all spouted incoherently.
Anger.
Frustration.
Rage.
Wrath.
Even hatred.
The soldat was feeling it all.
It was consuming him, devouring any sanity that was left of Bucky's moral values. The eerie glint in the soldat eyes suggested that he was not planning to stop until she gave him what he wants.
God, if it wasn't for chilling atmosphere around her, Elle might just mistook that she was actually in hell.
"Pyrenees!" She cried out. The soldat instantly stopped when she confessed. He waited for an answer and right on cue, she spoke again, breathless and almost silent as the fear that engulfed her prior refused to release her from its haunting grip. And truthfully she doubt that it will ever let her go, "T-there a secret base n-near the Irati forest."
She exhaled a shaky breath as she pleaded, "S-so please. Please stop this." The was tired of the pain and the numbness that came after. And the soldat knows it.
The room was left silent momentarily, as if he was actually considering her plea but alas he already had plans for her all along, "Shame. You should've killed yourself before I came here."
As he finished the last word, the soldat viciously plunged his knife deep into her neck, digging the sharpness of it through the delicate flesh until it reach the base of the blade.
Elle gasped in response, her hands scrabbling around in effort to break free, to stop all of this. But considering the situation she was in, there was nothing she could do about it other than to take it as it was given to her.
When the motion finally stopped, the soldat simply walked away from the scene as if it was a complete norm for him to behave as he was. He didn't even thought of cleaning the mess he left behind. Or hide the corpse somewhere.
Isn't he afraid that he might leave his tracks for the police to find?
Why would he?
This has been his life for decades on end. His sole purpose of living was to kill. So best believe that the authorities will never be able to link the soldat or Bucky to this crime.
Not today, not ever.
Through the days that Y/N was locked deep within Hydra's base, she hadn't been treated the worst. In fact, the sick and twisted agents and residents in the facility was more than willing to care for her.
This was all because they wanted her baby.
It was always sickening to hear them referring her child as merely a tool for their success. And the way they worship Y/N like she was a gift from God to fulfill their purpose, was beyond insanity.
"Oh, to have the privilage of bearing the offspring of the Winter Soldier. To be able to create the perfect weapon, unlike the father. It is just honorable."
It made her stomach churned with pure disgust whenever she heard those types of comments floating around her.
Besides the eerily digusting behaviour of the agents, there was also the regular check-ups and the lab tests that she needed to attend. Out of all the things she had to endure these past few weeks, the medical check-up has always dreaded her the most.
There was this constant debate within her troubled mind; of the possibility of Hydra manipulating her baby's health and genes by inserting unknown substance into her.
"Come on, mama. On the bed." The doctor said as he patted his rubber gloved hand on the surface of the rigid single bed.
She always found it vile that the people here calling her by that nickname. It tickled her throat in a way that she wanted to puke all the tasteless gunk that they had fed her with.
As she laid on the bed and let the process went on as it usually do, the doctor suddenly stopped everything that he was doing. At first she was weirded out by the irregular act of the man, but when she felt the vibration on the ground and the rushing footsteps from the floor above her, she knew exactly why the doctor suddenly froze on his spot.
And the emergency siren that shortly blared after, had only confirmed her speculation.
But mostly, it was the panic in the doctor's eyes that gave him away; then when Y/N noticed the man scrambled to search the drawers from one of the cabinet, she knew that he was up to no good.
The second that the doctor's hurried his steps towards her with a syringe in his hand, Y/N's body immediately recoiled. She quickly stopped him by grabbing his wrist and twisted it back until the syringe dropped from his hold.
The man cursed under his breath and decided to take her by force when he grabbed a handful of her hair, almost dragging her out of the bed. Y/N shrieked painfully while her hands blindly grabbing the silver tray by the bed next to her.
She then slammed it hard against his head, and watched the contents on the tray fell and scatter onto her. She took quick skim over all the tools and saw a potential weapon for her defence; a scissor.
"Stay still, mama. Or the baby will get hurt." The doctor foolishly threatened.
Maybe it was her defence mechanism or maybe it was just her motherly instinct kicking in but something just snapped inside of her when he said those words. There was this incredibly strong urge to either fight or take flight.
Of course she could easily slipped away and make a run for it but she just couldn't risk it. Especially when her baby's life was currently at stake. So, after a short moment of hesitation, she swiftly grabbed the scissors and surge it through his ribs. The man wailed in pain as he staggered off the bed and fell onto the floor.
You'd thought a single yet firm stab through the guts was enough to quench Y/N's need of fighting back but no. Apparently, the haywire of her nerves had drove her feral and she needed him to be soulless by the time she walk out the room.
That had forced her to nearly jumped on him like a predator pinning on a meek prey and the lack of struggling on the victim's side had only gave her full control to dominate him.
Then all of the sudden, the doctor felt another strike of the pain, digging into the flesh of his chest.
He woefully cried in extreme pain while Y/N did not utter a single word or let out any sound, she stayed silent as she thrusts the scissor in and out his flesh.
Each surge was vicious than the previous. Each stab was gradually speeding up as the motion increases it's number of repetition.
She completely let her emotions took over her sanity.
Until what's left in the room was only the sloshing and splashing sound of blood seeping through every thrust, as she continued to violate the body of the corpse.
Until the calm puddle of blood on floor rippled as the tears that broke from her eyes dropped on it's surface.
And when she realized that the doctor was long dead, that broke Y/N out from her feral state. Realizing what she had done; she shakily loosen her grip on the scissors and scrambled off from the lifeless body.
Her breath was near erratic; it was a chaos of unsteady rhythm as her words was lost at the tip of her tongue. She jolted in shock when the commotion in the facility got louder than before, reminding her that Bucky was there to save her.
Y/N felt a sob choking in her throat as her hands searched her stomach to coax the child in her womb, "It's okay sweet bean, daddy's here for us."
Have you ever heard how ear-ringingly loud it is when it's hailing? How the sounds of the frozen raindrops hitting – the top of your car or the roof of the shades of an outdoor café table – can completely mute your words for anyone to hear?
That has nothing compared to the thundering sounds that echoed throughout the whole facility. The shots were fired from multiple range of stolen guns, all were coming from one moving figure.
The once clean grey and white painted walls of the hallways, were now stained and splattered with the color of crimson. The usually empty hallways, were occupied by the dead bodies of fallen Hydra agents. And the distinct scent of well-kept lair, were effortlessly replaced by the unpleasant and pungent smell; a mixture of blood and sweat.
It was a clear trail of the Winter Soldier's deeds.
This place was supposed to be pristine, but now feels more like how it should be; hell.
While the enemies were roaring into their death, the soldat on the other hand was very much the opposite.
Unlike his foe, it took him very little work from the tips of his tongue and much more on the tips of his gun. When the enemies barked like a dog, the soldat pounced like a wolf; silent and resilient.
By nature, the soldat had never been a patient man, especially when it comes to people harming his darling.
Sure, maybe he can tolerate and play along with people who messed with him, but if one were to touch even a strand of hair of his beloved, then they practically reserving themselves a first class ticket of a one-way trip to hell.
And that unhinged tendencies of his only worsen when wrath was the one reigning his mind while hatred was its ruler. His mind was nothing but a chaos of rampage and vengeance. Seeking nothing but blood and death of his foolish foe.
At this point of time, with the amount of life he had taken from the moment he step foot into the gate of the base, to the very stairs he was currently climbing, one could probably matched his heart rate with the rhythm of the shots formed by the bullets he shot.
Magazine upon magazine he reloaded his gun and waste no less than zero bullet as every shot made was accurately deadly and terrifying fatal to his prey.
As the soldat's feet reached half way up the stairs, a Hydra agent's voice spoke from the lower level, "She's on the LG2, we need a team to come and collect her as soon as poss--" A bullet went straight through the top of his head before he could finish his sentence.
And that was the soldat's last ammo.
While he mentally took note on the intel, his feet was quick to jumped into action and made his way down to LG2. As he entered the hallway, his wild eyes wondered around to steal another gun from a dead man's body.
But he rose into a stand, he felt a tip of a cold steel nudged at the back of his head.
Some would call out the soldat's mistake for letting his guard down in the middle of a battle, but another would definitely ridicule the stupidity of that fool's guts for even thinking that the soldat couldn't counter-attack his weak threats.
However, none of the two man managed to made any move towards each other when there was a faster, more accurate trigger was pulled from someone else, from across the hallway.
And that action left an aftermath of the fool's body to drop flat on the floor, quickly finding it's perfect spot with between the other pile of corpses scattered around.
When the soldat turned around, the sharp of his gaze softened almost immediately.
There she was standing there, in the pastel blue of her 'prison' attire. Her hair was a bit messy even if it was tied, and her complexion looked slightly pale with fatigue but to the soldat, she was glowing like angel; despite the blood on her clothes or the gun in her hand.
She was right there.
His heart.
His love.
His darling.
Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying for days. Her pouty lips trembled when the soldat stepped closer and closer towards her, tears threatening to fall as if she haven't done that during all the weeks that she had been here.
The soldat's steps grew faster.
So does Y/N's.
Tap taping until they were almost running towards each other.
Until the moment they reunited in the middle.
Catching each other's lips in a desperate and insatiable kiss, the soldat pulled her body tight around the waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Both whimpered in a yearning moan, both still had their guns hanging on one of their hands.
So many feelings at once, relief and grief, with each of them had a different story to tell.
The couple kept breaking and mending the kiss ever-so-passionately as if they weren't in the middle of the grave-less cemetery; as if they weren't in the center of the piling corpses.
Briefly opening his eyes, the soldat could see a shadow running towards them. When Y/N heard the footsteps from her back, she knew they need to pull away, but the soldat was firm and stubborn with his hold.
So instead of letting her break the kiss, he groaned in disapproval and pulled her lips back to his. An angry growl vibrated against her lips as he continued to explore her wet and warm mouth.
Caught off-guard she melted to his silent demand, almost forgot that the enemy was right behind her. But, she should've know better when the soldat loosen one of his arms from the embrace and pointed his gun towards the target.
His finger pulled the trigger almost as easily as his teeth tugging into the bottom of her lips. And suddenly the sound of a body collapsing behind didn't matter anymore.
When the soldat felt that he had enough of the sweetness of her kiss, he finally pulled away, at least for now. He whispered dearly, "Родная (darling)..." he cupped her face in his large hands and rested his forehead on hers.
She thought she heard it wrong, but did he just called her darling? It took her a few second to piece it together and realized that this man was not Bucky, that he had relapsed into the Winter Soldier again, "Soldat?"
The soldat smiled and leaned forward to steal a chaste kiss on her lips, "Yes, it's me, мое Родная (my darling)" he cooed as he swept her by her feet, off the bloody ground and carried her in his arm, "I got you, Куколка (little one). You can rest now."
"We're just wanted make sure she's alright."
"You can follow us if you want so just please--"
"Soldat! You're going to hurt her."
The familiar voices leaked through Y/N's ears as she was drifting through her dreamless slumber. Soon enough, the loud commotion of her surrounding woke her up from the deep sleep.
The words that the Avengers were yelling out became clearer as she gained her consciousness, and the ever-changing movements of the soldat, evading every step the Avengers made to get closer to him, made her aware of the way she was resting in his arms; perfectly cocooned in a form of a bridal carry style.
The soldat halted on his spot when Y/N opened her eyes to see what was going on, "Soldat?" She blinked multiple times as she adjusted to the lights. The menacing frown of the soldat melted into a much softer expression, "Родная(darling), you shouldn't be awake yet." He craddled her closer to him as he cooed.
Where is she? How long was she out? When did she changed her clothes?
"What is happening?" She asked as she peered over his shoulder to see Natasha sighing in relief, "Sweetheart, thank god you're awake."
Y/N then looked over to Steve, "You've been gone for weeks, y/n. We got news about your rescue yesterday, and you guys just arrived home. Now, if we could just to take you to the medbay and get you check-up, that'll be great." He briefly explained.
"Yeah, that's all we want isn't it? But, someone just had to be sappy and refuse to let anyone touch you. You know, how it is with the soldier." Tony quickly intercepted.
The soldat didn't pay them any attention now that his darling was awake. He was merely focusing on whispering the sweetest things as he traces delicate trails of kisses on her forehead, her nose, her cheek, basically all over her face.
Sam took it as opportunity to get closer when the soldat was distracted on suffocating Y/N with kisses. But he should learn by now how alert and agile the soldat can be, especially when he have Y/N close to his proximity.
So, when Sam took a step closer, the soldat recoiled almost immediately, putting quite of a distance between them.
"Man, if Bucky has a staring problem, then the winter soldier over here has a hogging problem." Sam accusingly pointed at the soldat, only getting grunts as a reply.
Looking at the current situation, Y/N pondered for awhile. As much as she wanted to get herself check-up, it was also wise to not pressure the soldat to give her away.
Considering what she witnessed at the Hydra base, Y/N knew the risk that comes when we let the soldat dwell in anger for too long.
So she consulted the rest of the team to back down for now, and let the soldat do what he wants. Y/N promised them that she will conviced the soldat to let her get a check-up as soon as possible. But for now, they really need to trust her words.
At first every one of them was reluctant to let her go but in the end they agreed to her suggestion.
When the team spread out and gave some space for the soldat, he didn't waste any time and marched straight to where their bedroom supposed to be. As soon as they arrived at their safe space, the soldat almost threw Y/N onto the bed and swiftly drew a knife from the holster of his thigh as his predatory eyes searched the room.
He refused to move even an inch away from where he stood and remained close to Y/N; shielding her figure with his own.
It was very faint, but the soldat could sensed that they weren't the only ones in the room.
Y/N eyed him curiously, wondering why the soldat was still on edge when he wasn't supposed to. So, she hopped off from the bed and stood on her feet before reaching out to hug the soldat from behind.
"You can put the knife down, soldat. It's just us here." She coaxed but the soldat refused to believe her. He pulled her by the arms, breaking her hug in the process and hold her close to his chest, "There's someone else here."
His actions was rather rougher than he intended it to be; even Y/N was startled by the sudden movement, "Oooff, careful there, soldat. You might give the little one a fright." She chuckled softly as she give her belly a loving rub.
And suddenly his attention was completely focused on Y/N now. Usually his frown symbolized irritation, but this time there was a clear confusion in his eyes. The amount of appalled blinking of his eyes increases when the puzzle pieces in his head started to merge.
The soldat knew that he heard a third heartbeat in the room; that was why he was on alert for threats but apparently he had been closer to the source than he thought was.
In fact, it was right his arms. Or maybe a little bit lower, somewhere around his torso.
Y/N didn't say anything, she simply nodded and smiled up to him as she continued to rub her belly.
When the conclusion finally hits him, the soldat dropped the knife in his hand at the same time he fell on his knees. His gaze never broke from hers, not even a split second, until he was face to face with her tummy.
The soldat leaned one side of his ear closer to her and the thumping sound of the third heartbeat got louder. The discovery had caused him to jolt away as shock decorated his features. He titled his head upwards to Y/N with the same wide, confused look in his blue eyes.
"It's okay, love." She giggled amusingly when the soldat repeated his previous actions. He leaned in and jolted back again as if he couldn't believe what he just heard was real, "Is it... his?" The soldat asked as he implied his existance to be separated from Bucky.
There was a hint of sadness in Y/N's expression when he said it like that. There's been many long conversations that she and Bucky had about the soldat after his first relapse.
Though Bucky was still unsure of his own dissociating self, Y/N on other hand believed that the soldat, this particular man whose drenched the earth with blood just to save her, the same man whose currently on his knees to hear a heartbeat of an unborn child; he deserved a little kindness in his life.
"Yes..." Y/N answered truthfully before she continued, "...and he's yours too."
And that surely knocked the air out of the soldat's lungs, he couldn't tell if she was telling him the truth or was just trying to kill him; either way the butterflies in his chest was suffocating him from the inside.
The soldat couldn't speak a single word; because he didn't know what to say. But there was this beam on his features, light in his eyes, softness on his smile when he dreamily stared at her growing belly.
Y/N took him by his flesh hand and place his palm on her stomach, then she spoke tenderly to the baby inside her, "Wanna say hi to daddy, sweet bean? Say, 'Welcome home, daddy.' "
She knew it was silly, because obviously the child in her womb shouldn't be able to speak, and he was not yet developed enough to be kicking his feet. Hell, they don't even know his gender yet.
But how could she not say it when the soldat looked so damn happy when she did. He looked so peaceful and has this daze and some of those twinkling hearts in those steel-blue eyes of. The soldat sighed in pure joy before he leaned to kiss her stomach.
And as it turns out that was all she needed to do to persuade the soldat to letting her see the doctors. He was there through the whole process, refusing to let go of her hand. It was such a good news to hear that the baby was healthy and there wasn't any foreign substance that might contaminated her during her times in Hydra.
After getting proper medical care and some food in her system, the soldat immediately carry her back to their room to settle down. While she laid on the bed, making up for the lost time to finally get the mental rest she desperately needed, the soldat on the other hand, had made himself comfortable by lying his head on her stomach.
He just couldn't stop; as if he was hypnotised by the melody of the baby's heartbeat. His hand snuck under her shirt, lifting the fabric up to reveal the belly where their miracle resides.
Y/N's droopy eyes followed his actions as she watched how carefully the soldat approached her. Out of habit, her hands absentmindedly rake through the softness of his hair as she held him by the head.
The soldat dotingly caressed the child's sleeping chambers as he leaned closer to it, "...Hi there, little one." he greeted with a quiet and loving whisper.
Immediately, a smile beamed brightly on Y/N's face when the soldat proceed to pamper her belly with countless of tender kisses, "...it's daddy." he introduced himself, as if the baby was able to understand him.
The silence that came after was so sweet and comfortable. And Y/N knew she wouldn't be able to have this without the soldat. She tucked a piece of his loose strand of hair behind his ear when she spoke gently, "Thank you for saving me, soldat."
He briefly lifted his head and smiled up at her, "You know I can't live without you Родная (darling). I will always need you." He declared a truthful confession before turning his attention away. His lips grazed on the skin of her belly as he mumbled against it, "And you too, little one."
Y/N could burst into tears just from this interaction alone but she try not to. She doesn't want to look back at this moment and remember how much she wept, so she blinked her tears away while she watched the soldat spoiled the little buddle of joy inside her with so much endearments.
Even though it was always a happy memory for the soldat when he spend time with his darling, but this... this was rare. And he wanted to cherish it for as long as he could.
The soldat laid on his ears again when he peered from where he had his head rested, his deep gaze captured her attention, "Has he been taking care of you good, darling?" He asked.
The soldat probably had no idea how Bucky adored her; if anyone paid enough attention they might even caught him worshipping the very ground she stepped on.
A breathy chuckle escaped from her mouth as nodded with a drunken grin, "He's the best." She hummed approvingly, "Best husband, and best daddy too." She exclaimed brightly as she glanced at the ring on her finger; it was barely visible through the thick of the soldat's hair.
Surprisingly, the soldat didn't react negatively to her remarks, instead, a proud smile curved on his lips as the pride in his chest overflowed and leaked all through his very being, "Good." He simply said.
The smile lines on the corner of his eyes didn't flatten even when he closed his eyes. For a moment, he tried to silenced everything else around him and focused on the fluttering sounds of the baby's tiny heart.
It might have been the thick haze of lavender smoke in their head or the swarming butterflies in their chest, that they didn't even notice the fatigue that had been slowly taking over them, until the tenderness of their caresses were barely moving.
When the heaviness of her eyes weighted the lids, she sleepily asked the soldat, "Will you still be here when I wake up?" Truth to be told, she was afraid that all of this was just a dream; an escape from reality of the cruel captivity.
The soldat briefly opened his own tired eyes and cooed softly, "I'm always with you, Родная (darling)." And Y/N took it as a promise for her desprete soul to cling on; a ray of hope for her to hold onto, if she ever wakes up in that cell again.
Not long after, both of them lost to the lure of somnolent and their soul quickly drifted into the peaceful dreamland. Soft snores were filling the quiet of the room as their mortal body continued to entangled themselves with each other.
It was safe to say that if Steve would ever barge into the room, he'd probably maxed the storage of his phone with photos of the soldat smushing his face on Y/N's belly as she perfectly curled around him.
Maybe it was the sunlight leaking through the window or maybe it was the intense gaze she felt burning on the skin of her face. Eitherway, it certainly disturbed her from her sleep.
When her body stirred, Y/N realized that she didn't need to open her eyes to know that last night was not a dream, especially when she can feel a pair of familiar arms wrapping around her waist under her shirt.
Y/N slowly peeled her eyes open to see a recognizable ceiling. Her eyes then trailed to her side and met a pair of blue of eyes staring back at her. Her gaze searched for the soul within him and found the semblance of Bucky reflected in his eyes.
Still dazed from sleep, she continued to watch him blinking at her, slowly and silently, like a cat declaring their love to their human. But even then, he couldn't hide the afterglow of the tears on his face.
"Bucky, honey. Have you been crying?" Her voice rasped from lack of use, yet her tender fingers find themselves crawling across his wet cheeks.
It was as if her voice was a trigger, and tears quickly reformed in Bucky's eyes again. Y/N gently pulled him to her chest, one hand threading his hair and another rubbing his back as he sobbed in her arms, "It's okay, Bucky. We're okay." She continued to coax him lovingly.
They spend most of the early morning holding each other close and dear. Then when the tears started to lessen, Bucky finally pulled himself away from her. Y/N wiped the excess tears on his cheeks but he caught her hand underneath his; he relished in the relief of her presence when he sighed to her touch.
Bucky's gaze wobbled in the pool of tears in his eyes but he was still determined to speak his mind "I'm so sorry, doll." He apologized, "I couldn't stop them. Even with this damned serum in me, I still couldn't protect you; both of you." If his defeated voice didn't convey his truth, then the tremble of his touch should be enough.
And Y/N's heart simply shattered for him; what did he meant by that? He did save her though. The winter soldier or Bucky. It didn't matter who but she was here now because of him. She was safe; they both were, "But you saved me, did you not?"
"But, I didn't. The sol--" Before Bucky could even finish his sentence, Y/N quickly cuts in, "The soldat is always going to be a part of you, Bucky. And if he saved me, that means you saved me too." She reassured him.
Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, she continued to persuade him, "And if I could speak for our child, which I absolutely can because I'm his mother, then he would say that he is proud that his strong daddy managed to beat the absolute shit out of those bad guys."
Bucky blurted out a hearty laugh, "I don't think it's good to teach our baby to curse when he is still in your womb, mama." His laugh gradually reduced to a chuckle when he wiped the remaining tears from his eyes.
Y/N simply shrugged to his suggestion, "It's not like he wouldn remember this anyway." She smirked playfully.
Another chuckle managed to slip through Bucky's lips before he lowered his face to her tummy, "And you? How's your play date with Winter, hmm sweet bean?" He mumbled as his lips planted on her skin.
Besides the heartbeat of his child, he could also hear the tiny twitching of the baby's limbs moving ever-so-slightly, "Yeah, I bet he spoiled you with lots of kisses and cuddles, huh? Like he did your mommy?" He continued to coo against her belly, unaware of the shock on his wife's face.
"Winter?" A small smile cracked from the corner of her lips. Yes, she was shocked but that doesn't mean she wasn't pleasantly surprised by it.
Bucky didn't even bother to look up at Y/N's face as he was busy blowing raspberries on her stomach, "If he's going to keep popping up in our lives then we might as well call him something else other than 'soldat', don't you think?" He simply said, marking one last kiss on the small growing bulge on her belly, before working his way back up to her face.
Y/N's heart swelled to his gesture and when he laid his head next to hers, she carefully took him by his cheeks, pulling him in for a gentle kiss, "I think he'd love that, Bucky." She whispered against his lips, feeling his smile in return.
Bucky nudges forward to catch her lips again; kissing her slow and sweet as if his whole world has been waiting for this moment. And when the kiss naturally broke, he tempted her with something he knew she couldn't resist, "Now, how about we grab you both something to bite, hmm?"
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: The use of the title in the fic is suprisingly wholesome despite the insinuation of it, don't you think? Lol. Btw, thank you so much for stopping by and read my work. Leave your thoughts behind for me, I'd love to hear from you!
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