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petertingle-yipyip · 7 months ago

Text

BABY SAID - MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: matt x reader

Word Count: 1,976

Summary (request): Hey, may I make a Matt x Reader request. Foggy wants to meet Matt's new girlfriend. Foggy and Karen are supposed to meet you at Josie's. (You and Matt have a little plan to annoy Foggy.) You arrive later than the others and walk past the trio, foggy notices you and flirts with you. The idea came to me with the quote // Matt Murdock : How would I even know she's a beautiful woman? Foggy Nelson : I don't know. It's kinda spooky, actually. But if there's a stunning woman with questionable character in the room, Matt Murdock's gonna find her, and Foggy Nelson is gonna suffer.

“Are you sure?” You asked from the car, phone to your ear as you leaned on your steering wheel. “What if they hate me?”

“They won’t hate you.” He laughed. “I’ll make sure they know it was my idea.”

“Yeah, what a great first impression. I look like that girl and you look like a two timer.. You really think they’ll believe you’re a cheater?”

“It’s not gonna be like that.” He laughed again. “I haven’t told them we’re together together. They think it’s just one dates here and there.”

“And you’re positive they’ll think it’s funny?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Probably? Matt!” You whined.

“Sweetheart, I promise, it’ll be okay.”

“Fine.” You huffed and turned the key to shut off the car. “I’ll be in in a minute.”

You dropped your phone to your lap and pulled down your visor to check yourself in the mirror. You seemed put together enough. Hair looked good, makeup fresh. You sighed and slammed the visor up before grabbing your purse and exiting your vehicle. You chirped the alarm and dropped the keys in your purse as you headed into Josie’s.

You scanned the place and found Matt with who you assumed were his friends back at the pool table. You were meeting Matt’s friend for the first time and he had the brilliant idea that morning to pretend that you weren’t his girlfriend. He wanted you to come up and flirt with him to get a reaction from his friends before he would tell them anything. It sounded fun enough earlier, but as you sat at the bar, your stomach twisted into tight knots.

You were absolutely terrified that his friends wouldn’t find it funny. What if they thought you were a homewrecker? What if they didn’t want anything to do with you after that? Your anxious thoughts and tapping on the bar top came to a screeching halt when someone sat next to you.

“Hey.” He said kindly. You jumped slightly and turned your head so quick you thought you’d given yourself whiplash. You recognized him as Matt’s friend, Foggy.

“Hi.” You said carefully. “Any chance you know how to get a drink in this place? Bartender hasn’t even looked this way.” You tried with a nervous smile.

“Oh, yeah!” He grinned, happy to help. “What were you looking to get?”

“Something with bourbon.” You glanced around to find Matt turned towards you with a small smirk. “Probably a double.”

“Easy.” Foggy nodded before successfully waving down the bartender and ordering for you. “I’m Foggy, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” You smiled kindly as your drink came out. “You seem to know your way around here.”

“Me and my buddies come here all the time.. I'd introduce you but…”

“But?” Your brows raised in interest while you dipped your drink.

“You see that guy over there?” He pointed over your shoulder and you swiveled in your seat to see him point at Matt. “That’s Matt.”

“Why the glasses?” You feigned ignorance.

“He’s blind.”

“Is that why you won’t introduce me?”

“No.” He laughed awkwardly. “No, not at all. See, he has this thing where he just knows when a beautiful woman is around.”

“Ah.” You nodded and turned back to Foggy. “And you think that’d be a problem?”

“Yeah.” He laughed with a nod. “Definitely.”

“Oh c’mon.” You tried with a mischievous smile, the knots in your stomach now loosening due to the liquor. “I think it’d be fun.”

Foggy sighed slightly and ran a hand over his face. You pursed your lips slightly and gave a small lift to your brows to make your eyes a little bigger to silently plead for Foggy to let you. His head dropped as he muttered to himself before he excused himself with the promise of returning.

“This just got interesting.” You mumbled into your glass as you watched Foggy talk to Matt and Karen. He gestured over to you and you sent a small wave in return. When the conversation dragged on, you grabbed your drink and headed over to join them which caused them to aggressively shush each other.

“Please.” You smiled. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Hi. I’m Karen.” Karen smiled and offered you a hand from the other side of the pool table.

“Nice to meet you.” You grinned and shook her hand. “How do you know these guys?”

“We work together.”

“Cool. What do they do?”

“Lawyers.” Matt spoke up and the smoothness of his voice made your stomach flip. “We actually have our own firm, Nelson and Murdock.”

“Oh, I think I’ve heard of you guys.” You said quickly, as if a sudden realization. “You do a lot of local work, right That’s pretty cool.”

“You think so?” Matt’s brows raised as he gave you a small smirk.

“Yeah, I always thought being a lawyer would be cool but I can’t argue without crying.” You shrugged. “Instead, I just do hobbies and be an EMT.”

“Like a paramedic?” Karen asked.

“On the way.” You nodded. “Few more courses and tests, probably about a year's worth of work, give or take.”

“That’s so cool!”

“Thanks. Are you a lawyer too?”

“Office manager.” She nodded.

“But she does some really great research and investigating.” Foggy chimed in proudly, pointing a finger at his friend. “Don’t sell yourself short, Page.”

She put her hands up in surrender and you both laughed.

“So Ms. EMT, gotta be pretty good with your hands then.” Matt teased and you pushed your tongue against your cheek to block the smile. “For dressing wounds and giving care. That kind of stuff.”

“Y’know, I’ve yet to have a complaint so I gotta be doing something right.” Your head tilted and he grinned. “And you? You a hot shot lawyer or does your friend do it better?”

Matt chuckled slightly and wagged a finger at you before turning away to get his drink from the table. You blew out a small breath of relief before leaning against the pool table, sipping your own drink again. Foggy came up beside you in the meantime.

“Sorry about him.” He said nervously and you saw Matt turn back with an offended expression. You used your free hand to cover your mouth in an effort to hide your smile. “Told you, sixth sense.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment… I think?” You joked and Foggy laughed. “It’s really okay. He seems nice.”

“That’s how it starts.” Foggy sighed. “Next thing you know, he’s smooth taking you back to his apartment.”

“I’ll be careful.” You nodded. “Are you as smooth as him?”

“Lucky for you, I taught him everything he knows.” Foggy grinned. “He’s like my padawan and I’m his Yoda.”

“Jedis.” Your brows raised in interest and Foggy laughed. “I would’ve guessed that one was a sith.” You whispered as if a secret.

“Well he’s Catholic so..”

“Ah.” You nodded. “A vanilla jedi then.”

Foggy laughed and you took a glance at Matt, who was trying to keep his smirk back while crossing his arms over his chest. You tipped your drink towards him as a toast and you saw the way his body language shifted, accepting the challenge you unintentionally laid out.

“Hey, can I steal her for a second?” Karen said, suddenly at your side. “It’s just, there’s some makeup on the collar of her shirt.”

“Oh shit. Really?” You jumped up quickly and set down your drink, tugging your shirt to try and see what she meant.

“Don’t worry, it happens to me all the time. I can help.”

“Thank you.” You sighed and let her pull you into the restroom.

You leaned into the mirror but couldn’t find anything on your shirt. You turned back to Karen in confusion but she was wringing her hands.

“Everything okay?” You asked carefully. “I get the feeling the makeup thing was just a clever excuse.”

“Yeah, no, you’re fine. You look great.” She smiled quickly.

“Thanks… So what’s wrong?”

“Well… I think Matt has a girlfriend.”

“Oh..”

“He hasn’t said anything officially but he’s been on a few dates with her and just has this look after he talks to her on the phone, y’know. Anyways, um, I just… He’s charming, sure, but…”

“Right.” You nodded. “I totally understand. I didn’t mean to overstep. I was just going off what he was doing… Thanks for telling me.”

She nodded quickly before following you back to the boys. You liked that Karen stood up for your unconfirmed relationship. It really showed you could trust her.

“… Matt Murdock’s gonna find her. And Foggy Nelson’s gonna suffer.” Foggy ranted, not noticing you two had returned. “Besides, what about that girl you’re always calling?”

“Sounds like someone’s committed.” You announced, getting both boys’ attention. “If that’s how you talk to me, I can only imagine how you talk to your special lady friend.”

“I bet you’ll have fun with that thought.” Matt countered smoothly and you flattened your palms against the side of the pool table. His brows raised and he mimicked your stance.

“What would she have to say about that?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, guys, maybe we-“ Karen tried before looking to Foggy for help while trying to pull you back.

“Dude!” Foggy urged and smacked his friend’s arm. “What are you doing?”

“I’d tone it down, Murdock.” You warned as you reached across for your drink before you straightened. “You’re not being a very good Catholic. Isn’t adultery a sin?”

“Dear God.” Matt mumbled and stood tall, backing away a few steps.

“So, Foggy.” You said when the silence got thick. “How’d you two meet?”

“We met in college. He was my roommate.” Foggy explained, patting his friend on the back. “It’s like we were soulmates.”

“Sounds like your girl’s got some competition.” You laughed. “Does she know how deep this bromance goes?”

“I’d hope so.” Foggy nodded with a small shrug. “But we won’t know till he makes a move.”

“She’s a lucky girl.” You said honestly. “With a guy like that and new friends like you two… What else could a girl want?”

“Y’know, you’re more than welcome to keep joining us.” Foggy offered.

“Yeah, I’d love to be friends.” You grinned and Matt smiled proudly.

After a little while of conversation, the boys were drinking more than you and Karen were. You laughed as Foggy stumbled to the jukebox and sent up five songs that he “just had to dance to”. He grabbed Karen’s hand, which left Matt to come and get yours.

“You like dancing?” He said quietly in your ear as he pulled you against his chest.

“With the right partner.” You answered with the same tone. “I like your friends. Karen’s a real girl’s girl and Foggy’s real nice.”

“Yeah, I think they like you too.”

“And I like how they seem to already know that you’re taken without you saying it.” You smiled and he blushed slightly. “Are you gonna say it?”

“That you’re my girlfriend?” His brows raised and you hummed in agreement. “I’d scream it from the rooftops if you wanted me to.”

“You would not.” You giggled.

“Mhmm. And if someone asked why, I’d tell them because my baby said so.”

“Your baby?” Foggy asked loudly and his sudden appearance made you jump. “This is the girl?” He nearly yelled.

“Hi.” You waved awkwardly.

“So wait.” Karen laughed slightly. “All that flirting was on purpose?”

“Yeah… But I appreciate you pulling me aside before.” You said honestly.

“Ohmygod?” Foggy continued. “I almost flirted with your girlfriend.” He whispered loudly to Matt.

“Almost?” You questioned with a laugh.

“Here to break it to you, buddy.” Matt deadpanned before breaking into a laugh. “It’s fine. We planned for that.”

“WHAT!?” Foggy yelled and you laughed again.

You were fully confident that you had a good group around you now.

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 28 days ago

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okay, I think I could literally die if you don't do part 2 of "Bitch Pass"

🪹🪺

Bitch Pass part 2

part 1 ||

|| poly!plastics x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, small smut scene, hinted at rough sex, reader facing punishment, top regina, bottom reader, regina focused, overstimulation mention, reader's a brat, regina's a brat tamer, orgasm mention

|| Summary; the rest of school was pretty boring, but the night? Yeah... reader definitely got her punishment for humbling Regina.

Requests open!

Started; october 18th

Finished; october 18th

~~~

Remember when you were surprised that Regina didn't lash out in some way the moment you'd humbled her? Well, your own humbling was quickly approaching. Unknown to you. The rest of the day had gone pretty smoothly, with Regina being oddly quiet and keeping her eyes practically locked onto you whenever you were within sight.

Classes were boring, which only made school drag on an almost impossibly long time. Sixth period was the fastest, since you shared it with your girlfriends and that always made things better. When it was work time, you, Gretchen and Karen were all giggling to each other. Whispering and sharing the latest gossip.

"And then, she had the nerve to blow up on her boyfriend!" Gretchen whisper shouted, grinning the whole time," can you believe that?"

"Jesus Christ." You murmured, shaking your head. The drama that Gretchen could get details of was honestly impressive; you wanted her detective skills.

"Wait so like.. are they still together?" Karen asked, a little confused by the ending.

"According to Trish, yeah. And I did see them making out this morning." Gretchen shrugged, your eyes widened a little.

"No way, really? Man they gotta be desperate."

"Right??" Gretchen laughed at that, the three of you had basically forgotten you were in class. But it was a work period so it's not like you were really interrupting anything. Everyone was having their own conversations anyways. The rest of the period continued on like this, Regina only saying a couple of one liners the entire time. You picked up on how quiet she had been, how her eyes never left you... you were a little confused, probably something to ask her about later.

The four of you didn't really have any plans set up tonight, so after school Regina dropped of Gretchen and Karen. But didn't drop off you, she kept you in the jeep as she went in the direction of her own place. You glanced over at her, confused but not complaining.

When you got to her room, Regina didn't waste a second of the time she had with you. Before you knew it you were pinned under her on her bed, cheeks red and heat flooding your body.

"'Bitch pass'?" She quoted you from earlier, an almost growl like rasp to her tone as her eyes locked on yours. You swallowed, realizing exactly what you were in for. She was going to get back at you for earlier today and you were just going to have to take her." Who told you you could talk to me that way?"

"You were being a bit of a bitch.." You murmured, trying to come off as braver than you felt. Plus, you liked talking back to her. Especially in this setting since you knew it just got her more riled up.

Regina's hand gripped your chin, her nails digging into your skin but you didn't care. It felt good. A low moan escaped your throat." Excuse me?" Her glare was intense, you could see the hints of lust behind her eyes.

"I said what I said." You smirked at her and she rolled her eyes, flipping you over so suddenly it nearly gave you whiplash as you landed on your front. A grunt falling from your lips." Regina-"

She pressed herself against you, her lips brushing against your ear," safe word?" She murmured, her tone switching from dominant to soft. Even just for a moment to show you she wasn't really upset with you. When you'd humbled her earlier, it turned her on. So fucking much that she couldn't focus on anything else for the rest of the day. She'd been counting down the seconds until she had you alone.

"Pink...?" You suggested, Regina nodded and just as quickly as it appeared.. the softer side was gone. Her hand came down on your ass, making you gasp and flinch under her touch," a- fuck-!" Regina grinned as she listened to you.

She didn't let you rest that night. You couldn't count the amount of times she'd pushed you into overstimulation, the amount of orgasms.. you were just surprised you managed to stay conscious through it all; because jesus fucking christ.

Did you learn your lesson? No, you'd definitely humble her again. Especially if it got you this kind of treatment.

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tonyspank · 4 months ago

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Tony....please make me an angsty-romantic, JO or JO character x Fem!Reader one shot! You decide who it fits more. With a good ending, please!

I'm currently listening to Waves by Calpurnia.... this song is so mesmerizing.

My request would be based on that, but it's okay if you don't want to do it!

Hope you are eating well, Thank you so much!

-🎸

HOLD ON

Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader

Summary: “I don’t want to die.”

Warnings: Cancer, gunshot, blood, violence, and let me know if there’s anymore.

A/N: thank you so much for this request anon! i hope you enjoy, although im not very good at angst 💔

Jenna’s not famous in this & also! this was heavily inspired by jbs music video !!

1.7k words

$13,892, the minimum amount the doctors told you Jenna's treatment would be. $14,283, the amount you were quoted by a second hospital for the same treatment.

The problem? Jenna has no insurance.

Jenna has no insurance, and you have no money. You saw the look on your girlfriend's face when you were given these estimates, and you knew she practically gave up right then and there. You promised Jenna you would find a way to cover the cost, no matter what it took. But you have no idea where to begin.

That was three weeks ago.

Jenna was your best friend, your companion, and your girlfriend, and you can't bear to see her suffer without the treatment she needs. But with only two months until the deadline, you still have no idea how you'll ever be able to afford the medical attention she needs.

You sit on the floor of your bedroom, your back against your bed frame, and a hand covers your face. You take a deep breath, but it does little to soothe the tightness in your chest. You feel lost, helpless, and hopeless.

But you know one thing for sure: No matter what happens, you'll do anything and everything you can to help Jenna.

Jenna stirs in her sleep, awaking you from your thoughts. You quickly wipe away a tear before she opens her eyes. You know that you have to stay strong for her, no matter how overwhelmed you may feel.

When she opens her eyes and looks around, her gaze finally meets yours. Her smile is weak, and you can see the pain behind her eyes. She holds her hand out to you, and you quickly take it, kissing it softly and pressing her palm against your cheek.

"Good morning." She says, her voice raspy from lack of use.

"Hi." You reply, leaning forward and kissing her lips gently. Jenna's lips are cold and dry, a stark contrast to the warmth of her hand in yours. You try not to think about how much pain she's in.

"What are you doing sitting on the floor?" She asks you, her eyes searching yours for an answer. You smile softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I wanted to be closer to you." Jenna's eyes soften, and a small, grateful smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

But it soon fades away, replaced by a look of sadness. "You should get some sleep," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I know you've been up for hours."

You feel a lump form in your throat, knowing that she's trying to protect you even in her own pain. "I can't." You admit.

"I'm okay." She mutters, but you know she isn't. She can barely move her left arm. Her breathing is labored, and she's so pale, it's like she's lost all her color.

"You're not okay."

"No." She agrees, looking down at her hands. "But I will be. Please, Y/N, get some rest. I'll still be here when you wake up." You finally relent, knowing that she's right. You lean in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead before climbing into the bed next to her.

"I'm scared." She admits it quietly.

"I am too." You tell her, pulling her close. "I promise I'll be here for you every step of the way," you whisper, feeling her body relax against yours. "We'll get through this together."

With those words, she closes her eyes, finding tranquility in your presence as you both drift off to sleep, holding onto each other tightly.

Your dreams have been the same for a few days, almost as if you were reliving your life with Jenna. The memories are always happy, and they help distract you from the reality of the situation.

You dream about the day you met her. It was on the late afternoon on a beach in Los Angeles, with the waves going back and the sun rising and falling. You were just wandering along the shore, looking at the scenery and the people.

She was sitting on a large rock, looking out over the ocean, her feet in the water, and the sand beneath her. You remember seeing her from a distance and being immediately drawn to her.

So, you walked towards her, not knowing what you were going to say, or what you were even going to do. "Can I help you?" She asked, turning her head and giving you a smile.

You felt a rush of nerves as you approached her; she was gorgeous, and her smile was captivating.

That wasn't the only day you spent together. Every weekend, you would meet on that beach. Sometimes, you would go out for dinner, and sometimes you would just spend the whole day together.

But now, it was hard for Jenna to leave the apartment, let alone walk on the beach.

You had been dating for three years, and now she was in your apartment, her illness was getting worse, and your money was running low. You were struggling to balance taking care of her and working long hours to pay for her medical bills.

Another week had passed. Jenna had gotten worse, the chemotherapy was taking a toll on her body, and the medical bills were piling up faster than you could keep up with.

You were barely making enough to cover her medication and hospital costs, and the stress was beginning to affect you. You had been working nonstop, barely getting any sleep, and you were starting to feel run down.

You were losing hope. The deadline was only a month away, and you had no idea how you would manage to come up with the money. You had tried everything, but nothing seemed to be working.

Jenna was fading away right in front of your eyes, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You couldn't bear the thought of losing her. She was the love of your life—the one person who made you feel alive. She had been the only person to truly understand you, and the thought of losing her was like a dagger in your heart.

You were sitting in your garage , surrounded by all the tools and equipment you had collected over the years. Your eyes fell on an orange plastic gun sitting on a workbench, gathering dust. It was a toy gun that Jenna had given you as a joke, but now it could be the key to your plan.

You picked it up along with a can of black spray paint, determined to do whatever it took to save Jenna. You carefully painted the gun, and once it dried, you tucked it into your waistband.

Jenna's last words before she was admitted to the hospital echoed in your mind.

I don't want to die.

It was a cold, rainy night. You were dressed in all black, the orange toy gun was tucked into the pocket of your hoodie, and your motorcycle helmet was securely fastened under your arm. Your hands were shaking as you gripped the gun. You were nervous, and you knew the consequences of what you were about to do.

But you couldn't let fear stop you. Jenna's life was on the line, and you were willing to do whatever it took to save her, even if it meant risking everything. With a deep breath, you stepped toward the bank teller, sliding her a note demanding the money and making it clear that you were armed.

The teller looked at you in shock but quickly complied with your demands, giving you the money. You quickly stuffed it into a bag, keeping the plastic gun hidden in your pocket as you quickly walked toward the back exit where your bike was parked.

Suddenly, an alarm rang out , causing panic to erupt in the bank. The security guard sprang into action, blocking your path to the exit. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you shoved him into a nearby table and made a run for it, jumping onto your bike and speeding away as police sirens wailed behind you, knowing that you had to escape quickly before they caught up to you.

You weaved through traffic, trying your hardest to escape from the multiple police cars chasing after you, their sirens blaring. It was a dark and stormy night, and you were driving through the streets of the city, the rain pouring down heavily. Your hands were shaking, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Abruptly, a car pulled out in front of you, causing you to slam on the brakes. You looked around and realized you were surrounded by police cars with no way out. The officers approached with their guns drawn, ordering you to put your hands in the air.

Your hands stayed on the handles, the gun pressed against your leg, and a lump formed in your throat. There was no way out. You were trapped, and there was no way you would escape.

A shot rang out, causing you to flinch and close your eyes in fear. When you opened your eyes, there was blood seeping through your hoodie, and you felt a sharp pain in your side. You never really understood the meaning of flight or fight until that moment, but now it was clear - you had to fight for your life.

Your survival instincts kicked in, and you made a split-second decision to make a run for it, ignoring the pain and speeding past the officers. The sound of gunfire echoed in your ears as you accelerated towards the familiar streets you had taken nearly hundreds of times.

Your bike sputtered to a stop as you reached your destination, sirens getting closer and closer. You stumbled off the bike and ran through the hallways of the distinct building, clutching your bleeding side and pushing past startled onlookers.

You could see Jenna's room number at the end of the hallway, and you knew you had to reach her before it was too late. You burst into the room, and relief flooded your body when you saw her sleeping peacefully.

"Y/N?" She whispered, slowly opening her eyes. Her voice was weaker than ever, and her skin was pale.

You rushed to her side, tears streaming down your face as you laid your head on her shoulder. "I'm here, Jenna," you choked out, holding her hand tightly. "I love you."

Jenna weakly squeezed your hand, her head slowly turning to the doorway where the police stood, waiting to take you away. "I love you too," she said softly, her eyes filled with tears.

#tonyspank #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #reader insert #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega angst #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega x gender neutral reader

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throwawayhero · 3 months ago

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hi!! could you do a kirishima bf headcanons? i feel like nobody ever writes for my boy, thank you! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Of course omg??? He doesn’t get the amount of love he deserves ong. One of the best characters imo, kill me if I'm wrong!! He’s been my favourite for YEARSSS and I will never get tired of him. Some of these are a bit random but I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

Eijirou!Kirishima who always walks to school and/or class with you. He’ll wait for as long as you need him to with little to no complaints (most of the time..)! He’ll just hang around in your dorm trying to look unsuspecting as he looks at your stuff while you rush to get ready. He especially loves to snoop through your trinkets.

“.. Hey, I didn’t know you still had this!”

“Neither did I..”

“Oh—“

Eijirou!Kirishima who actually takes care of his physical appearance/personal hygiene. He doesn't have a sociopathic 30 step skin care routine but don't be surprised when his bathroom drawer is full of hit or miss products that he's tried out. Will give tips about finding good products if asked about it. He always smells SO good. He also has hair products he uses to get the red dye to last longer.

"Hey, can I borrow this?"

"That made my skin super irritated, try this one."

Eijirou!Kirishima who always supports you and your hobbies, even if they only last a week. He's always up for being a test subject of sorts. Painting/drawing? He's ordering you top quality paints and pencils. Reading? Tell him about the characters, the drama, the romance, the plot twists, he's invested. Crochet/knitting? He's wearing the sweater you made him, even if it is a little bit itchy. Yoga? He bought matching yoga mats! He's ALWAYS supportive, now matter how extreme.

"Any other hobbies peaked your interest?"

"Rock climbing."

"..Sounds like fun!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who NEVER forgets to text you good morning/night. He forgot once and showed up to your dorm to apologise (You hadn't even woken up yet). Sometimes he sends little GIFs too.

'Good morning beautiful!! 💗💗💗'

Eijirou!Kirishima who has a highlight on instagram dedicated to pictures of you and things that remind him of you. He doesn't really post on social media, but when he does, 80% of the time it's about you. He also sends you a bunch of those lovey-dovey quotes from Facebook. His captions on photos are always so sweet.

'Spent the day Go-Karting with my beautiful girlfriend! Can't believe how lucky I am! #gokart #love #girlfriend'

Eijirou!Kirishima who is the KING of PDA, to an extent of course. He will kiss you anywhere, in front of anyone. Oh my GOD does this man know how to give good hugs. He's always holding your hand/wrist/finger no matter what you're doing. You could be on a walk, in a line, grocery shopping, or just sitting down together. He's always by your side :)

"..Can you let go of my hand so I can scan the groceries?"

"No but I'll help you!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who GUSHES about you to his friends. This man is head over heels and everyone knows it. He doesn't necessarily believe in soulmates but he does believe that you were the one he was meant to find. He gets this horribly happy look on his face when he thinks about a future with you that everyone can't help but laugh at. He talks about said future all the time.

"When do you want to get married?"

"..What?"

"I wanna know when to start editing my vows."

"..Editing??"

Eijirou!Kirishima who is a bit of a restless sleeper. And when I say restless, I truly mean it. This man will roll on top of you and just lay there, sprawling out and snoring happily. You have been and will continue to be kicked. One time you had woken up to him rolling off the bed.

"You slapped me in your sleep last night."

"Oops. You should've slapped me back!"

"I did."

Eijirou!Kirishima who goes all out on dates. He'll take you to a fancy restaurant and wear a suit and tie with his hair done nicely. He'll ask you to wear something pretty beforehand so that you know not to underdress. He arrives at your house/dorm with flowers and the biggest smile you'll ever see (besides your wedding day). He'll treat you like the princess you deserve!

"You're stunning, hun.. where would I be without you?"

#kirishima eijirou #bnha eijirou #mha eijirou #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima imagine #mha kirishima #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima fluff #hcs #boyfriend #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #kiri #throwawayhero

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ronance4everbrainrot · 3 months ago

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Some more little mostly Glassheart/CharmingHeart incorrect quotes

(with other ships)

Bridget: Why do you act like we’re three year olds?

Ella, exasperated: WHY?!?

Ella points at Red: YOU TRIED TO HYJACK A CAR!

Ella points at Chloe: YOU NEARLY JUMPED 20 FEET OFF A CARPARK!

Ella points at Bridget: AND YOU ATE MULTIPLE DRIED LEAVES AND ROCKS OFF THE GROUND!

Ella: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

(Ella is so done with them. Red wants to leave. Chloe wanted to do some parkour. And Bridget forgot they weren't in Wonderland.)

---

Red: I don’t know, this plan seems complicated.

Chloe: You once said that about an orange.

Red: They don’t make sense. Apples, you eat their clothes but oranges you don’t.

(Red finds Auradon weird)

---

Red: Are you okay?

Chloe, crying: Yeah, it was just the onions.

Red: *Picks up an onion* What the fuck did you say to Chloe?

(That's adorable. Red, honey. You're not in wonderland. Not everything can talk)

---

Red: Mom, if you don't shut up I'm going to throw myself out of the car.

*click*

Red: DID YOU JUST TURN THE FUCKING CHILDRENS' LOCK ON?!

(She cares. Even if it's just for her own gain.)

---

Red: *on the phone* Hey Mom, do you know my blood type?

Queen of Hearts: Of course, it's B-.

Red: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

((Red is in the hospital with Chloe. Red doesn't know her blood type so she just shrugs and guesses. She tells Chloe that she doesn't know and Chloe then makes some comment about getting the wrong blood type and it not being good, red finally decides to call her mother and ask her.))

---

Chloe: But what about Bridget?

Ella: Don't worry about them.

Ella: I once watched them fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating their cupcake like nothing happened.

(Either Bridget is a people pleaser or she's just incredible. Probably both.)

---

Bridget: *accidentally eats something too spicy so their eyes start to water*

Ella: Bridget, look at me. It's okay. I would die for you. I love you so much. You're the best person I know.

Bridget: I'm not crying?

Ella, hugging Bridget's head: Shush baby, it's okay. Ella is here and they love you with their whole heart.

(wHy iS It sPicY. Bridget gay panicking)

---

Ella: Well, if you're not at least a little bit gay for your friends, then what kind of friend are you?

(Facts. But also. Stop trying to deny the gay. Accept it fully)

---

Red: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weirdly.

Chloe: You use humor to deflect your trauma.

Red: Awww, thanks-

Chloe: That’s not a good thing.

Red: All I’m hearing is that you think I’m funny.

(trying to deflect again. You can't run forever Red)

---

Chloe: Stop thinking whatever you're thinking.

Red: Huh?

Chloe: You always make that face when you're about to say something stupid just to piss me off. So cut it out-

Red: I love you.

Chloe:

Red:

Red: Also, cereal qualifies as a soup.

Chloe: I KNEW IT!!

(Red had her Cheshire cat Smile growing. Canon)

---

Red: I was arrested for being too cool.

Chloe: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

(Go Chloe! She and her comebacks are like this 🤞)

---

Chloe: I'm a nice person, but I'm about to start throwing rocks at people.

(Red was being crowded by a group of people and Chloe was about to throw hands. Or well, rocks.)

---

Chloe: You know, Red, you are the sun in my life.

Red: Why? Cause I'm smoking hot?

Chloe: Because it hurts my eyes looking at you.

(the only person that can bully Red is her Girlfriend, Chloe)

---

Cinderella: I’m not mad, I just need to know why you two had a fake ID.

Red: *Incoherent mumbling*

Cinderella: Huh?

Chloe: …You need to be 18 to hold the puppies at PetCo.

(Ella hadn't had a good laugh in a while. She's so relieved and amused)

---

Red: Are you mad?

Chloe: No.

Red: So sharpening your sword at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

(Actually yes. But maybe not at 3 am... Better watch out..)

---

Cinderella: How has life been treating you lately?

Queen of Hearts: Horribly.

(canon)

---

Hope you liked it!

I have more but not for now.

Byeeee

#rise of red incorrect quotes #red of wonderland #chloe charming #red of hearts #rise of red #redcharming #glassheart #ella charming #charminghearts #bridget x ella #bridget of hearts #queen of hearts #princess red #hehehe #hehe :3 #descendants 4

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snghnlvr · 1 year ago

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠. / sim jaeyun

sim jaeyun x fem reader!

read part two here <3

synopsis : who knew there was something behind your relationship with the infamous smart guy at school? you had questions as to why jake likes you and chose you to be his girlfriend out of all people. soon, you found out the truth: by a bet.

extra: olivia rodrigo is my mom , if i was y/n i would’ve slapped the shit out of jake but let’s not get too physical here eh?? :] , i haven’t seen much jake angst (because he’s the most loving human ever??? he would NEVER ever do something like this) so here i am… :D

likes, comments, and reposts are very much appreciated <3

[below the cut]

“thanks for making me get $100, babe”

you look up from your seat to see your boyfriend, jake holding a $100 bill between his index and middle fingers. he sent you a wink which already made you blush like crazy but then you slowly processed the words.

what?

“what?” your expression dropped. you looked at jake, waiting for a response for what he meant.

“i said,” he planted his two hands in front of his desk, staring down at you with his beautiful eyes of his. you stared back with nothing but confusion in your eyes.

“thanks for letting me have $100 sweet cheeks.” jake’s lips curved up. he slowly leaned towards your cheeks, pecking them before proudly looking down at his cash.

that little nickname he gave you made your hearts do back flips as usual.

you stood still before replying, “what do you mean? you used me?”

you’ve liked jake ever since he was in the school’s soccer team since sophomore year. he’s popular for his smartness, his godly visuals, his amazing personality of his that steals the hearts of girls, and his talents.

your introverted personality of yours didn’t dare to make a move on jake. you were undoubtedly shy and didn’t like social interaction very much. all of the girls were in line to ask him out and directly confess their love to him, but you didn’t. you weren’t in line, you were just observing him from the side, mentally noting what he likes, didn’t like, what topics he likes to talk about and many more.

the only proof that you like him was through a little post it note you had on your desk before leaving to go to cafeteria.

sim jaeyun <3

was all you’ve written in pink in your yellow post it note. you haven’t told anyone, even your closest friend for you would be afraid of the public teasing that would soon eventually let the whole school know you like jake.

five months, he suddenly asked you out because he thought you were the “most beautiful girl i had ever laid eyes on but was scared to make a move”, quoted by sim jake himself.

at first you didn’t question it as to why he randomly asked you out.

you remember that day, you were blushing like crazy, heart almost ripping out of your rib cage, and you had all sorts of scenarios and activities both you and jake can do because both of you are in a relationship.

well, were in a relationship.

“yeah.” your thoughts were interrupted when jake responded with a heartless tone. “i admit that you were cute when you bought me gifts, but either than that,

i’ve never liked you.” his tone was monotonous.

is that why i reminded him of my birthday? is that why i reminded him of our monthsavrie? when my classes end? is that why i was the first to everything? good morning texts?

thinking about your past memories where you felt the most happy with jake,

was all just an act. just for the damn $100 dollars.

jake being the first one to hold your hand whenever both of you met, even if it’s a minute in the hallways or meeting after school ended, him being the first to notice you shivering and toss you his hoodie even if he was cold, him volunteering to help you study your subjects even if it’s 2am, him wiping your lips with his soft fingers from eating ice cream, him listening to your rants and sobs whenever your parents fight late at night, and always looking at you with nothing but love and admiration you believed,

all an act?

you lowered your head, trying to contain your proper breathing and trying not let your tears fall down. you exhaled, closing your eyes.

“who asked you?”

jake’s face slightly clenched when seeing your eyes filled with rage yet tears threatening to spill out. “who asked you for the bet?” you asked once again but with a firm tone. you didn’t break eye contact. you were thinking of his friends he always hung out with, park sunghoon, yang jungwon, lee heeseung, and many more but you felt like these people - your best friends as well - would never hurt you like that.

instead of being sad and running away, you’re staring at your ex boyfriend with bitterness. the loving stare you’ve had towards jake was rather replaced as if he’s your enemy. yeah, you’ve been backstabbed.

“does it matter?” jake tilted his head, shrugging it off. “what matters is i got my money.” he flicked his bill right in front of your face, his tongue peaking when he mockingly smiled at you.

you glanced at the dollar and then back at jake.

“did i mean nothing to you?” you asked, your thoughts suddenly spilling from your lips. “was our relationship nothing to you?” a tear spilled out of your eyes. seconds later, multiple of them were easily sliding down your cheeks.

you stood up from your seat, looking directly into jake’s emotionless eyes. “did you have fun playing with my feelings? did you enjoy taking my likeness towards you as an advantage? were your friends having fun hyping us up whenever we were around them? did you at least have some fucking sympathy for me!?”

after screaming, you looked down. you were going crazy. literally.

“god, y/n calm down. you’re embarrassing me, lower your volume.” jake crinkled his nose, eyes wandering around to see if there was anyone near the both of you.

despite not looking at him, you can hear the annoyance in his tone and the rolling of his eyes whenever you guys argue. he would call you “overdramatic.”

“fine.” you gulped before looking at him. you imagined yourself as a crying mess. it’s like every argument you had, jake would not cry, but you were.

you had to contain yourself to not let your emotions overwhelm you, but it’s hard right now.

you just got used for money.

“i hope that $100 dollar bill reminds you how much of a shitty person you are.” you grabbed your book bag and ran for your life.

out of that suffocating room.

i can’t believe it, you thought.

he’s a bitch he’s a bitch why is he a bitch!? why did he choose me!? why did he hurt me? i did nothing but .. love him and be there for him.. what did i do to get treated like this??

your chest hurts like shit, you can’t breathe, you can’t think properly, all you wanna do is to hide forever and never face jake the following monday at school. you wanted to go anywhere. anywhere but be in a room with him, sim jaeyun.

god, love is fucking embarrassing as hell.

YEAHHH jake angst drabble🕺 idk how to feel this one as i can’t imagine jake doing such a thing :(( but we need a change don’t we ? i hope you enjoyed it!! thank you for reading!! ❣️

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lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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𝐎𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 — bachira. m

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 after his triumphant return to tokyo following the exhilarating world cup season, bachira stumbles upon a startling revelation involving his ex-fwb that would change his life forever.

tw. fwb!reader, fem!reader, pro-player!bachira, baby d(a)ddy!bachira is 21 here, unprotected s(e)x, pregnancy, language, dacryphilia, size kink, angst, misunderstandings, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, petnames (mama, princess, baby, etc), daddy kink, bachira being bachira, MDNI ⋆ ★ for the lovely @j1ngyuans who provided me such wonderful insight to bachi’s character and helped motivate this fic along <33

Rain glimmered off the window pane, highlighting his golden-hued eyes. The circles etched onto them were nothing compared to the purple bruising his collarbones from your teeth.

Those same eyes roamed over your bare spine, curling within the cave of his arms. Despite the late hour and the reality of an early morning flight, Bachira couldn’t find it in himself to walk away.

Your warmth intoxicated him to stay for a few more seconds, caught in the trap of your vanilla-scented hair and sleep-heavy features.

Meguru had promised himself he would stop this last week. Then, he found himself in front of your apartment door, and the next day, in between your sheets. He let it happen three more times before his brain caught up and he remembered the event circled on his calendar.

The flight he had to take which would place 3,000 miles of distance between you two.

But, that was last week. Now, he was a man riddled with splitting emotions. Leave or stay; fight or fly?

Meguru sighed, and the minute movement caught your attention.

“Megu-chan?”

“Hmm?”

You looked down at your laced fingers with his, and Bachira had to sneak a kiss onto your forehead. You were too adorable for your own good.

“How long will you be in Germany?”

Bachira liked to believe he had a hold on this situation; that he wouldn’t quote unquote catch feelings. He had nearly tackled Rachi for teasing him when the dumb blonde saw your name flashing across his phone screen. Isagi smiled, but didn’t say much when his affairs came to light. The rest of the team thought it was funny he had found someone who could tolerate him, much less sleep with him three times in a week.

But, the young striker was coming to terms that you weren’t a normal woman.

No one else could stand his endless rantings about football, his tendency to forget why he stepped into a room in the first place or his strange sleeping habits.

No one else but you.

Meguru traces his thumb across your knuckles, contemplating how soft they felt under his touch.

“Just for three months, princess.” A grin tugged on his lips. “Why? Miss me already?”

You give him a look and roll your eyes. “No.”

“Doesn’t sound convincing.”

He felt your smaller fingers tangling in his long locks, tugging on the bleached strands. “Not convincing? That’s not true, either.”

You were an enigma he couldn’t wrap his mind around.

Smart and independent, you held your own in a fast-paced job and rented a pretty sweet apartment in the heart of Azabu. Bachira thought you must’ve been fucked in the head to let some random soccer player onto your radar, much less your home. But, one look at him from across the bar must’ve caught your attention.

You offered to buy him a drink, and within a few hours, he had you pressed into your own silk sheets, crying out his name.

It didn’t stop there. He secretly added your number into his phone, and texted you the next day, offering to buy you dinner. Part of him thought you would be weirded out by his forwardness. You weren’t.

The next night, he took you to Nobu for a ridiculously priced omakase dinner and fucked you in the back of his Mercedes till the windows shook and you squirted all over him.

As quirky and outlandish as he was, Bachira Meguru was a gentleman.

His mother always told him to be nice to girls, even if they weren’t his girlfriend. Bachira took her lessons to heart and offered to pay for everything; your Ubers to his place, the midnight takeout you both would order after every session, and the condoms he would forget in his back pocket the moment he saw you standing by his front door in a short skirt.

Meguru didn’t need his teammates to tell him that he was crazy. Every time he found himself sprawled in your bed, the taste of you heavy on his tongue, your touch searing through his skin, he thought about the next few months.

Why the fuck would you start a relationship if you knew you were going to be drafted for a season in fucking Germany?

Bachira had argued that it wasn’t a relationship.

When Isagi pressed him on what type of connection you both had, he clammed up.

A first for the usually outspoken, carefree young man.

Kunigami had blinked. Raichi guffawed loudly, almost making the windows shake with his laughter.

“Fuck. Our Bachira has a little piece of ass on the side!”

Friends with benefits. Meguru had never heard of that term before. Granted, he didn’t have many friends, much less any of them that came with benefits.

But, he found that he liked your company. Liked when you snorted too hard at one of his jokes or whined for him to help take out the trash. He grew fond of your fingers scratching his scalp lightly or how you always wore his shirts when you went to collect the delivered food from your front door.

It was why his tongue suddenly felt too heavy when he had to reply to your question. His eyes darted to the mark he left on your shoulder, and he touched it absentmindedly.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.”

You blinked. Bachira drank you in; really took his time to absorb you in your entirety.

There was a smudge of your mascara underneath your left eye, and your lipstick was stained with him. The dress you wore was shoved somewhere underneath the bed, probably kicked to the side in a rush of passion, and you were clad in only your bra. He tugged at the strap, fighting back the urge to see you completely bare.

He had to get his last hit of you, even if it couldn’t fill that strange, you-shaped hole underneath his ribcage.

Gently unclasping the last article of clothing, he threw it to the floor. You squeaked, drawing your bare hands to your breasts to cover them. But, he clicked his tongue, batting them aside.

Years of training to be a pro-player and a diet rich in protein and soccer fanaticism helped him shoot up past the six foot mark and he could’ve almost rivalled Nagi in the height department. His shoulders had broadened, pecs firming up and back becoming defined from endless days of training.

On top of him, you felt as light as a feather. A doll that was tinier compared to his larger build.

And Bachira loved it.

He loved pinning you down onto the mattress, licking your tears and cooing at you to take him. He loved it when had a slight limp the next day, or when you winced and squeezed your thighs a little from the chaffing. It made the monster in him prickle with pride.

Your glossy eyes met his, and you hiccuped at the feeling of him breaching past your fluttering hole. After three rounds, you were still as tight as when the evening started. Bachira grinned, palming your breasts and slapping them a little, watching the fat jiggle.

“Pretty, pretty baby is so warm and wet f’me.” You shivered at his words, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he guided your hips downward. Trying to get you to bottom out. “Good girl,” he drawled, kissing your wet cheeks. “Lookie, I’m almost in! You can finally fit me. Heh, took you—what? Two rounds? But, I’m only halfway through. Am I still too big for you?”

You gritted your teeth, turning your face away. He felt your walls clamping down on him in humiliation, and his sick grin grew.

“S-Shut up.”

Bachira tsked and tried to help you relax by gently rubbing his thumb on your tender clit. The shot of arousal helped to lubricate his cock more, your juices trickling down his stiff length. “Mouthy. And Meguru is trying to help you, too. So ungrateful.”

Hot, fire pain exploded across your left ass cheek, and you cried out, clenching down harder on him.

“Mhmph—Meguru!”

“Yeah,” his breathing got heavier, golden eyes hooded. “Mhm, that’s right. Say my name, baby.”

His thumb circled your nub frantically, desperate to get you unravelling. Your mewls touched his hot ears, and he felt you shudder on top of him. In a short second, you clamped down, choking his dick and Bachira groaned.

“Pretty girl,” he whispered while you were in the throes of your orgasm. “Cumming like a perfect slut for Meguru.”

He flipped you onto your back, taking both of your hands in his and breaching past your halfway stretched hole. Still sensitive from his previous treatment, you shuddered and wailed, back arched till only the crown of your head was touching the mattress.

“Megu—“

He sank into the hilt. Bachira set a pace that had you moaning his name. Your tits jiggled lewdly in his face, nipples hard and circling to graze the hard planes of his chest. You closed your eyes and he growled. “Open them. Look at me.”

You drank in the darkness seeping through his golden orbs with shameless need. Bachira’s clipped thrusts and sturdy hips slapping into yours filled the air with wet squelches and your airy moans. You were close again; he felt your thighs clench around his waist.

Unable to stop himself, Bachira gathered your ass cheeks in his bigger palms, gripping and spreading them so his cock could pound deeper and harder inside of you. The change in angle made your toes curl, and your breathing became both heavier and airier at the same time.

You curled your fingers with his, tightening your grip on his hands. Bachira brought one wrist to his lips, kissing the soft skin there.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Meguru watched the line of your throat constrict, your shoulders twitch and thighs tremble. He felt you sucking him in, unable to let him go; desperate to cling onto him with a vengeance. You shattered with such pleasurable desperation it was like a work of erotic art coming to life.

His own orgasm hit him like a truck to the face; Bachira dug his heels into the bed, lifting his hips up so his cock could breach you deeper. The hot flow of his seed stained your insides, lodging deep past your cervix. His head was spinning, and the smell of you burned his nose. Sweet vanilla and skin filled his open mouth, your weight pressing sweetly into every nook and crevice of his body.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “So good.”

You mumbled his name, and the garish green light of your digital clock highlighted the dip in your brow; the fluttering sleepiness of your eyes closing shut. Bachira waited until your breathing evened out.

He picked himself from your embrace and kissed your hair. Intermittently, he would glance up at you as he slid his pants on and buttoned his shirt up. But, you remained asleep, curled into a small ball with your head on his designated pillow. Bachira doesn’t want to let sentimentality linger for too long on his already conflicted soul, so he gave you one last kiss on your forehead before departing out your door.

Speeding out of your life for the last time.

As you dwelled in dreamland, he arrived at the airport, half an hour late and with his hair sticking out in odd ends. His teammates snickered when they saw him, but they didn't ask where he was or who he spent his last moments in Japan with.

Bachira told himself that it was part of the charm of being in a mutually beneficial situationship. You got him off and he got you off in equal reward.

But, as the plane took off and Raichi’s grumbles for good food service rattled in his ear, he couldn’t help himself from turning his neck slightly to the right.

Trying to catch a glimpse of your red-tiled apartment roof from 5,000 feet in the air before the clouds and frost swirled over his window, blocking his sights.

Returning back to Japan after three months shouldn’t scare him, but it did.

Bachira doesn’t know what to expect when he comes back to his homeland. He barely had the time to dwell on it when the doors opened and Ego was ushering them out into the gateway, the European Cup tucked comfortably under his arm; safely wrapped and whose silhouette was an unmistakable win for Japan.

Hoards of screaming fans welcome them back with flashing cameras and banners. Local paparazzi flocked to them with questions about the next season. He stood there as reporter after reporter interviewed Isagi, and occasionally trailed the mic on his media-trained coach who promised the nation of more wins to come.

His mother greeted him at the airport arrival, and Bachira pretended not to feel a smidgen of disappointment when squealing girls would run towards their boyfriends, engulfing them in large hugs and sweet smiles. It truly was funny how he hadn’t thought of you much throughout the long, gruelling weeks in Germany’s winter, but the very second he arrived back home, you were at the forefront of his mind.

Yuu was sweet and patient when her son returned her questions with sluggish exhaustion. She didn’t comment when he staggered into his bedroom, and fell asleep in his crumpled clothes; her poor, sleepy soccer star.

The next morning, his mother left him a note, telling him that she was out for the day to meet with an art curator. Lonely, restless and bored, he decided to help his mom with the groceries and take her car down to the closest mart in their neighbourhood.

Bachira didn’t expect anyone to recognise him from his newfound fame, not when he reached the car park and all he could see were milling mothers and elderly people scrutinising their potential purchases in hand. The cold air stung his bare hands when he reached for a trolley, pushing it down dreary aisles while flickering his attention to the list his mother had set down on the dining table the night before.

Ka-san would be happy I crossed this off the list for her. Buoyed with the thought of his mother’s grateful smile, Bachira almost missed a familiar face walking down the bread aisle. It was when he almost crashed his trolley into a stranger’s cart that he glanced up, about to open his mouth and apologise when he saw you.

Except, you’re not exactly how he remembered you.

For one, your coat was much too large, and your dark circles were way too pronounced to be considered normal.

And secondly, your palm was protectively pressed onto your belly. A belly that was swollen and protruding. Unmistakably pregnant.

Bachira inhaled sharply. Before he could call out a greeting, you mumbled a hasty apology and swung your cart from his path, hurrying down the aisle.

Bewildered, Bachira craned his neck around, wondering if you had forgotten who he was. But, you didn’t. You surely couldn’t. Because you were rushing to pay for your things, and in the split second it sank in that you were fumbling for your coins, did it hit him that he was supposed to say something to you.

Why are you pregnant?

Whose child is that?

Do you not recognise me?

Did you not miss me?

“Hey, wait!” His desperate voice punctuated the frosty air of the car park.

You hurried off faster when you heard him, trying to evade his presence. But, Bachira was faster and taller and you were physically at a disadvantage from your heavy belly. He caught up with you in no time, and reached for your elbow. You squeaked, almost dropping your bag of groceries when you felt his long fingers encircling your arm.

“Meguru—“

“Why were you running away from me?”

This close, he noticed the snowflakes hanging off the ends of your lashes; how your skin glowed softly away from the harshness of the grocery store’s fluorescent lights.

You stuttered and flushed like you were caught in a lie. “I-I wasn’t!” Curling one hand on your stomach, you missed how his eyes flickered towards that minute movement. In his fit of panic, Bachira had chased after you without completing his groceries, cheeks ruddy and hot from the sharp cold. A part of him couldn’t believe you were standing here; physically right in front of him.

Was he still dreaming? What were the odds of bumping into the very same person you were just thinking of the night before?

A miracle. That’s what it was.

But, you looked like the sight of him was nothing short of a nightmare.

Unable to hold his gaze, you shifted from one foot to another. Bachira grabbed the heavy bag you were gripping tight to your chest and encouraged you to let him carry it with a gentle tug. You unknowingly release your grip on the paper bag, shifting your eyes to your feet.

He had to break the silence. He had to get some answers.

“Congratulations on the pregnancy,” he muttered flatly, dull-eyed. “I suppose you got married and started a family when I was away, huh?”

To his surprise, your eyes started to well up. You dashed at them, and in the faint morning sun, your ring finger was as bare as the winter-struck trees above. Bachira had to take a step back.

“Wait… how long are you?”

Your pretty face was twisted into a frown, and you were resolutely not looking into his eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

You tried to walk away from him, but Meguru was still stubborn.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he snarled, surprising the both of you by his fire. “Tell me the truth. Did you fuck someone else while I was away?”

His question ignited a flame of defiance from you.

“What the fuck, Meguru? How dare you ask me something like this?”

Your teary eyes dissipated, leaving behind a glow of anger that threatened to sear him whole. “First of all, I don’t owe you an explanation. Second of all, please give me back my groceries and third—” you shifted uncomfortably, scowling at your own two feet. Bachira hated to admit how adorable you were when you glared at the ground. “—I’m really, really hungry. Can you stop squishing my bread? It’s supposed to be for breakfast.”

He blinked. Slowly, he handed you back your paper bag of groceries. You snatched them with a flurry of indignation, turning on your heel.

“Is it mine?”

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Meguru hadn’t realised how empty the carpark became until he noticed the small of your back threatening to be swallowed by the vastness. It felt like eons since he last saw you. He wished you would just give him a hug.

Your shoulders hunched forward, hugging the crumpled bag tightly to your chest.

Without your denial or confirmation, Bachira could make an educated guess.

“Three months, huh? You found out about the little critter while I was away, right?”

“Don’t call him a critter.”

Bachira’s heart soared straight to his throat, lodging right there. “It’s a boy?”

You didn’t run away or try to brush him off this time. From the slope of your shoulders to the tremble in your hands, Meguru sensed your defences falling to leave you open and vulnerable. He rushed forward to patch you up again.

Guiding you into his embrace, Bachira didn’t care if you both were in public or someone would whisper at the indecency. He pressed a kiss to your hair.

“You should’ve told me,” he mumbled, not sure if he was saying the right thing. “I would’ve returned back in a heartbeat.”

“You had a dream to fulfil,” your sad sigh reached back to him. “I didn’t want to be a hassle.”

Bachira turned you around, lifting your chin to tip your head up to meet his serious gaze. “Y/N, you are not a hassle to me. You’re my friend. And friends help friends, amirite?”

You had to muster a smile at his innocence. “Yes, Meguru. You’re right.” Looking into those golden eyes you missed after the longest, loneliest three months of your life, you teared up again. “I-I’m sorry—”

He shushed you with a finger on your lips and a grin. “Don’t cry anymore, Y/N. Meguru’s here, yeah? Come on. You said you’re hungry? Let me make you breakfast.” Without giving you a chance to refuse, Bachira took your groceries from you and your hand. “The little guy is gonna have the best breakfast of his life!”

“Meguru, wait—”

“And I’ll make him my special pancakes.”

“Megu-chan—”

“And he can meet his grandma, too!”

“Bachira!”

He stopped in his tracks and looked down to find you flushed and glaring. Cocking his head to the side, Bachira widened his eyes, innocently scanning your angry expression.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You raised an exasperated brow, chagrined that he couldn’t connect the dots.

How exactly did he think you arrived at the store? On a magic carpet?

“Um, are you forgetting about my car? I can’t just leave it here for the whole day, genius.”

You had no idea how you ended up living with the Bachiras.

It started with Yuu taking one look at you, your swollen belly and her son’s sheepish smile to put everything together.

Since your own parents were in a precinct far from Tokyo, she took you in as her own, nevermind the fact that it was her son who got you knocked up in the first place. Despite the social stigma attached to a pregnancy out of wedlock, she never shamed you or made you feel less than perfect for your condition. Instead, you noticed how she would eye Meguru past the rim of her mug, a look of deep disappointment on her pretty features.

She heard about how you and her son met; how the both of you were strictly engaged in a physical affair and nearly bit her tongue off before she could nag Meguru. Though his mother was less than thrilled at the idea of being a grandmother in her late forties, Yuu Bachira was nothing but kind and sweet to the woman carrying her grandson. She made sure you were properly fed, had a soft enough bed in her guest room and even instructed Meguru to pick you up from the train station after work.

It was everything you didn’t deserve and more.

While his mother was trying her best to be accommodating to this staggering new change in her life, Bachira himself was struggling to coincide with the idea that you were carrying his baby.

It started with an ultrasound appointment. Since he was locked in Germany for those three months you had to wade through this pregnancy on your own, he was more than eager to make up for lost time by sticking to your side. The first time he saw his baby boy on screen, he had teared up, cupping your sticky stomach and leaving kisses on your belly’s crown, your skin tacky from the ultrasound gel. Then, he complained on the entire ride home that his lips felt funky and tingly.

You had almost forgotten how eccentric your baby daddy was.

Where other men would give their women space to grow and nurture a human being, Meguru was always an inch away when you needed him. It didn’t matter if he was out the whole day training. The second you called and told him that you were waiting at the train station, you would be greeted not even five minutes later by a panting Meguru behind the wheel. Your feet were hurting? Meguru would stop and sit you down on a bench, removing your sandals to squeeze your swollen ankles, much to your flushed and embarrassed exasperation at passersby’s stopping to stare.

And not to mention how neurotic he was with your food intake.

“I heard protein is good for the baby! Y’know… to help grow their limbs and muscles and stuff.”

In all honesty, his eager cluelessness was adorable. But, the mountain of fresh sausages on a single plate was worrying.

“Megu-chan, this is too much food for me,” you whined, sliding your perplexed gaze to his. “I can’t possibly eat this much!”

“Silly, I’ll help you,” he sang, sitting opposite of your huge plate of wieners before jumping back to his feet like this chair was made of hot coals. “Oops, forgot the mustard!”

Life with Bachira Meguru was interesting, to say the least.

Sometimes, you would catch him staring at your belly in wistful happiness. Other times, you would find yourself back in your bedroom after passing out on the couch, a blanket tucked underneath your chin and your favourite small extra pillow supporting your lower back.

However, similar to every event in life, it would amount to nothing without conflict.

The first (and only) crease in your relationship with the eccentric striker unfurled through an unexpected visit.

The air in the tiny apartment was charged with the presence of four burly men in the living room. When you came back home from your short walk around the neighbourhood, you hadn’t expected the extra pair of shoes by the doorway, or the boisterous laughs booming from behind the corner.

“... heard your piece of ass is living with you now—ow!”

“That is no way to talk about a pregnant woman.”

An ungraceful snort resounded through the small space that reminded you of a bull huffing. “I meant to say that Bachira’s little friend is a little too comfortable, here, no?”

“For real, man. I think I saw a breast pump catalogue somewhere on the table.”

“Shut the fuck up, Raichi.” Meguru never showed his annoyance to anyone’s face. Whoever this Raichi guy was, he must be a piece of work to get your baby daddy this riled up.

“Aw. C’mon, don’t tell me you’re in love with her.”

Something about the words ‘love’ and ‘Bachira’ in one sentence had you pausing by the doorway to hone in on his unfiltered confession. Maybe you were a lovesick fool, and maybe you were naive to the core—but you had weakly hoped his feelings for you were more than friendly. Call it a delusion, but it was too late to separate logic from the illusion his kind and considerate gestures gave you.

“Nah,” the voice you were starting to love touched your ringing ears. “I’m not in love with her. Just being nice, that’s all. I feel bad for getting her knocked up before leaving Japan. We’re just friends.”

Someone laughed. Your shoulders slumped forward, heart shattering into pieces.

A hollow, dying tree has more life compared to your stiff joints. You gingerly took one step back, conflicted by the sudden onset of nausea and anger. It soon gave way to a profound disappointment which corroded through your lungs like acid fumes.

You choked back on a cry, spinning around and slipping your shoes back on. Barely fazed that someone could hear you rushing down the hall, your pattering footsteps faded in the distance, and the tiny apartment you were beginning to call home continued to stand in ignorance, oblivious to the inner earthquake rocking you apart.

Your pain barely touched the real world, its ripples muted.

The same way your presence made no difference in Bachira Meguru’s life.

It was close to evening time and you still weren’t home.

Those idiots he had the pleasure of calling teammates had fucked off for dinner, leaving him anxious and worried for your safety when you hadn’t responded to his text of Where are you?

Bachira was halfway contemplating if he should start putting up posters of you, when the front door clicked open. His mother entered, bearing a frosty glare and sharp eyes, dashing his hopes and igniting his anxiety in one enraged glance.

“Ka-san, have you seen—”

“What did you say to her?”

Meguru blinked. “Say to who?”

“Y/N,” Yuu replied angrily, as if her son’s obliviousness personally insulted her. “I found her crying by the staircase, refusing to come back up here. Said she overstayed her welcome and if I could send her back to her own apartment.” The frown lines on his mother’s forehead deepened. “What did you say to her, Meguru?”

His golden eyes widened. “Nothing! I swear. W-what did she tell you?”

Yuu set her art bag on the table, sighing. “She didn’t make any sense.” Narrowing her eyes, she glared at her son again. “But, I sent her back to her apartment. She was almost hysterical and I didn’t want to stress her out even more. I’ll be packing her things.”

Helpless to stop his mom from arranging your small suitcase filled with your belongings, Meguru shifted from foot to foot, wondering if he had done something wrong and how he could make it right.

“Should I talk to her?” He wondered out loud.

Yuu wrinkled her nose. “Give her some time to gather herself. You can talk to her when she’s calmer.”

Continuing to pack up your things, his mother barely paid him any attention. Meguru was reminded of those times when he was younger. How guilty he felt when he took in Yuu’s exhausted, but determined expression from raising a child all on her own.

“Ka-san, I want to speak to her,” he murmured. “It’s not right that she’s alone. She’s pregnant.”

Unlike his mother who had to work hard to provide for him, Meguru would never put you through the same thing. He was here as your friend and support; you could count on him to share the burdens with you.

Yuu paused from picking up your night clothes, tilting her head to the side. “If you want to talk to her, I’m not able to stop you. But, just remember to not stress her out. Like you said—she’s pregnant.”

He nodded, despite how she couldn’t see him doing so with her back turned.

Gathering his car keys and courage, Bachira dragged himself out of the apartment and to his car, determined to reach out to you.

The journey to your place was calm for a Saturday night, and once he reached your front gates, he was reminded of the nights he snuck here, blonde-brown hair tucked under his hoodie and hands in his pockets. Trying to seem cool enough to earn your approval.

Bachira internally cringed at the memory and set forward towards your unit. He knocked on the door, peeling his eyes and ears for a sign of you. Eventually, his relentless knocks and calls of your name attracted the sound of your footfalls walking towards the door. Worried, flaxen eyes swept down your figure wrapped in a loose t-shirt the second the door opened, guilt consuming him when he noticed your red-rimmed eyes and wet nose.

“Meguru,” you mumbled, straightening. “Why’re you here?”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. Bachira had never had to apologised for something he didn’t do. But, he wanted to try for you. “Whatever I did, Y/N… I’m sorry, okay? Come back and stay with us. It’s not good to be alone in your state.”

Staring up at his hulking figure, your expression crumbled into one of misery. Bachira found himself gripping your cheeks before his mind could play catch-up. He tipped your head back with two fingers, forcing you to confront his panic.

“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me how I can make you feel better. What do you want from Meguru to help you?”

The fact that he would sometimes refer to himself in third-person never failed to make you giggle, a watery, pathetic laugh breaking free past your clenched teeth.

“It’s stupid.”

“Not a valid reason, princess. Try me.”

“Don’t hate me.”

“I won’t,” he promised, brushing a loose lock of hair from your face. “You can tell me anything.”

You flickered your gaze to your laced fingers, fiddling with your hands. “I… I heard what you told your friends. That you don’t—” you cringed back, but his fingers around your cheeks held you firm, coaxing you to give him the full picture of your distress. Inhaling deeply, you forced yourself to continue.

“That you don’t love me.”

His brows were knitted together, mouth set in a frown. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to the punch.

“I know we’re just friends. That you don’t see me as a partner and we’re just co-parenting our baby. But… but I want more, Meguru. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

It took legions of courage to admit to someone that you wanted love. As clueless and eccentric as the world saw him, loneliness was a common emotion that he understood very well. And right before him, Bachira could see that you were so incredibly lonely.

He never thought about the effects of his treatment on you. How his polite and friendly gestures could be interpreted as disinterest. The truth was, Bachira was crazy about you. He never wanted to stay friends, but the timing was never right. His career would take him to another country for another season and you were in a delicate state with your pregnancy. Despite his overwhelming emotions, the young striker could not deny how you brightened his every waking moment.

Whether it was watching you devour an entire tub of ice-cream and moan about it later, or tucking you into bed after finding you dozing off on the couch, you held a special part in his heart which he rarely ever gave to people who were not Isagi or his mom.

You were his special friend.

And he was in love with you.

“Silly, silly girl,” Bachira cooed, catching you by surprise. He leaned forward, pecking your forehead first, then your damp cheeks. “For such a smart woman, you can be so stupid sometimes.”

Indignation rushed through your face, and you opened your mouth, that hot temper he found incredibly sexy fighting to put him in his place. Rather than letting it spill out, Bachira claimed your lips with his, silencing your anger. Replacing it with your soft moans and parted lips that silently screamed for more.

He nudged you back into your apartment, closing the door behind him. Luckily, your shirt and shorts were easy to yank off and your couch was three feet away from the entrance. He sat down on the sturdy cushion, parting his knees and tugging you to sit on top of his bulge. Touching you in a way he hadn’t done since the moment he put his baby in you.

And what a sight it was. He traced your bulging belly with lust-imbued eyes, biting on his lower lip to stifle an embarrassing, animalistic groan.

“You’re so sexy, mama,” he whispered, reaching out to knead your tits. “So fucking round and glowy. I should put more babies in you.”

You tossed your head back with a soft mewl. “Mhm—Meguru…”

“Yeah, say my name, baby,” he taunted, using the tips of his thumbs to flick your hardening nubs. They were much more sensitive than he remembered, all hard and perky just for him. “Gonna make you fucking combust. Give your sweet, hot, mom-bod all the loving she deserves—”

Twining your fingers in his long hair, you tugged him closer, smashing your mouth onto his. An attempt to stop his teasing. Bachira gave you your way with him, allowing you to grind down on his bulge, slip your tongue in his mouth. He would be putty just for you; let you exert your pent-up hormonal frustrations on his willing body.

You impatiently yanked his belt off, nearly ripping his jeans button off in an effort to get his cock. He leaned back, arms spreading across the back of your sofa as he took in the heavenly sight of your dainty hands pumping his cock. You barely had to arouse yourself; your soaked pussy drooling all over his knee and rock hard nipples were rearing to go.

Bachira pinned his half-lidded eyes on you as you lowered yourself on his dick, craning your head forward to watch your pussy suck him in. He watched your expression spread with joyous lust, your brows scrunched in pleasure. You used him thoroughly as he expected. All he had to do was rock his hips upwards while you gripped his shoulders, fucking yourself up and down his cream-slickened length.

Once in a while, you would lean forward and claim his lips in a desperate kiss, your hips frantically rocking back and forth over his swelling dick. Meguru let his head loll back, his biceps and thighs tensing against your couch. When you pitched forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, he let his patience snap, strong arms vining around you and taking over your weak grinding to thrust up heavily into your welcoming pussy.

“Let Meguru take care of you, honey,” he mumbled into your neck. “You’re my fucking gorgeous Queen, yeah? Shouldn’t be lifting a damn finger to fuck yourself if I can help it.”

His low grunts and masculine groans reverberated against your throat, driving you deeper into your insanity.

“M-Meguru—!”

“Close?” he panted, brushing his nose against your pulse point. “Cum for me, mama. Make your Daddy proud, yeah?”

Something about that simple term—’Daddy’—had you seeing stars behind your eyes.

“Yes, Daddy!” you cried out, thighs tensing and pussy choking down on his dick. “Yes, yes, yes! I’m so close!”

The band around your belly snapped, careening you off the edge. Bachira was not far behind, and he pulses inside of you, filling you with his hot seed within three searing seconds.

Exhausted and dazed, the both of you slump into each other’s arms, satisfied beyond a shade of doubt.

Bachira squeezed your hips, a ghost of his chuckle brushing your jaw.

“Mama? You okay?”

“Mhm,” you responded back weakly. “M’okay.”

“Marry me.”

The dizzy curtains of an afterglow retreated back slightly, and your eyes widened. You peeled your sweaty cheek from the crook of his neck, staring at him with a trapped breath.

“W-What?”

Completely serious now, Bachira’s gaze could’ve penetrated your soul. “You heard me, mama. I want you to be mine forever. So, marry me.”

“B-but,” you sputtered, tripping over your words. “W-we haven’t even been on a date. You don’t know me that well. I—”

“Didn’t you want me to be in love with you? What better way to show you that than tying the knot?” He quirked one brow up, looking so ridiculous and handsome at the same time, you had to bury your face back into his neck.

“I didn’t mean marriage just yet!” you whisper-yelled.

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I—I do!”

“Then, I do, too. That settles it. Boom. We’re married.”

Despite how ridiculous this conversation was, you burst out into laughter, and then, your peals of giggles morphed into sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Meguru cooed in panic, rushing to brush the wetness from your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry.”

You stared at him in his entirety with pure love in your watery gaze. How infuriating, silly and beautiful he absolutely was. Irrational as it was, you reached forward to cup his face, squishing his cheeks together and squeezing them. Your beloved, annoying, sweet, eccentric Bachira.

“You are so adorable.”

He blinked. “So are we getting married or not?”

Another watery giggle slipped past your lips, and you released his cheeks, preferring to press your forehead to his.

“Yes,” you finally admitted after a beat of silence, marvelling at how easy it was for him to change your mind without putting much effort into it. “Let’s do it. Let’s get married, Meguru.”

— feedbacks and reblogs are very much appreciated <33

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or claim as your own.

#blue lock bachira #bachira meguru #bachira smut #bachira x y/n #bachira imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #SHES HERE IM SO HAPPY THIS TURNED OUT GR8 ‼️#🦢 writes

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midchelle · 7 months ago

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I was looking through my drafts and found this compilation of quotes I put together of Beatle girls talking about other Beatle girls. It's probably not totally comprehensive, but I thought some people might find it interesting.

Cyn + Mo

Far from being a shy little thing, Maureen was talkative, full of laughter and great fun: we all liked her enormously and thought she was good for Ringo.

All of the Beatles’ women got on with each other, but Maureen, who was one of the most down-to-earth, honest people I ever knew, became my closest friend. After their son Zak was born in September, seven months after the wedding, she and I used to go up to Knightsbridge to shop. Anthony would drop us off and we’d do the rounds of Harrods, Harvey Nichols and the designer shops in between, then stop for lunch in a smart little bistro. We’d buy cute little outfits for our sons and we were always on the lookout for something different or special for the men. We loved to surprise them with a psychedelic shirt, a piece of ethnic jewellery, or I would buy John a new plectrum for his guitar. John always loved prezzies, as he called them. No matter how small they were, he’d be delighted and I loved looking for things to surprise him. Much as Maureen and I enjoyed our outings, she always made sure she was at home for Ringo when he came in. Such was her devotion to him that she would stay up sometimes until four in the morning to greet him with a home-cooked meal. She wanted him to feel loved and cared for and, like me, she had been brought up in a family where women did the caring and nurturing while men provided. We often went over to their house and hung out with them, it was always party time at the Starkeys’. Ringo was gregarious and fun-loving, a clown and a joker with an infectious laugh. Together, he and Maureen made an irresistible double act, both extrovert and uninhibited. Ringo had installed a replica pub in their front room, which he called the Flying Cow. It had a counter and till, tankards, mirrored walls and even a pool table. He’d nip behind the bar to serve us all drinks, while Maureen supplied us with endless plates of food. It was a cosy, comfortable house with what felt like the ultimate luxury at the time: a TV – usually switched on – in every room. They had large grounds, in which Ringo had built in a go-kart track. He and John would race the go-karts or play pool while Maureen and I chatted over a cup of tea or took Zak and Julian for a walk. Ringo’s other passion was making his own short films. He had lots of equipment and loved to experiment, so after the nanny had taken over Zak and Julian we’d watch his latest movie. One was a fifteen-minute study of Maureen’s face. Innovative, perhaps, but not the most riveting entertainment.

Cynthia Lennon, John

Cyn + Jane

Jane was different from the girls Paul had been out with previously. The daughter of a psychiatrist father and a music-teacher mother, she was highly intelligent and cultured. She had a strong inner confidence, with a maturity and grace way beyond her years.

Paul stayed for a while. He told me that John was bringing Yoko to recording sessions, which he, George and Ringo hated. Paul had broken up with Jane Asher a couple of weeks after John had left me. I was sorry because I’d really liked Jane.

Cynthia Lennon, John

Cyn + Pattie

I liked Cynthia, but of all the Beatle wives and girlfriends I found her the most difficult to make friends with. She and I came from such different backgrounds; she had no career, she was a young mother, and we had no point of reference apart from our attachment to a Beatle. She wasn’t like my friends, who enjoyed a giggle and some fun: she was rather serious, and often, I thought, behaved more like John’s mother than his wife. I tended to leave her to her own devices but invited her to join me for shopping. I think she felt a bit out of her depth in the smart, sophisticated circles in which the Beatles were now moving in London. And I don’t think it helped that John thought I looked like Brigitte Bardot, or that I got on so well with him. There was a rumor—I don’t know where it came from—that John and I had an affair, and I suppose Cynthia may have believed there was something in it. It was completely untrue: we never had an affair. I wouldn’t have dreamed of it and neither, I am sure, would John.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me

Meanwhile George, who had just turned twenty-one, had met a young model called Patti Boyd and fallen in love. Pattie had been given a part in A Hard Day's Night, playing a schoolgirl, because she had appeared in a successful crisps advertisement -- she was known as the Smith's Crisps girl. She was blonde, beautiful, and a sophisticated Londoner, like Jane Asher. But, like the rest of us Beatle girls, she was friendly, too, and easy to get on with.

Patti and I were becoming close friends. I admired her gorgeous figure and perfect fashion sense, and I think she enjoyed the company of someone who’d been with the Beatles from the beginning and knew the ropes.

Cynthia Lennon, John

"George has a lot with the others that I can never know about. Nobody, not even the wives, can break through it or even comprehend it. It did used to hurt me at first, as I slowly began to learn there was a part I could never be part of. Cyn talked to me about it."

[Pattie speaking] "It's not so bad these days, but it happens. Cyn was attacked not long ago in the street. Some girl kicked her in the legs and said she had to leave John alone, or else. Isn't it amazing, after all the years that John and Cyn have been married?"

[Pattie speaking] "Some people do understand. If they've been developing a lot themselves, growing up more, they know what it's all about. Cyn was very helpful at first, telling me what to do. That was when we thought of the boutique."

Cyn now and again would like to try something new, to have a job, perhaps use her art-college training in some way. She and Pattie, George's wife, did discuss the idea once of opening a boutique together in Esher, but it never came to anything.

Hunter Davies, The Beatles

Mo + Jane

I got to know Jane as well during that trip. While Paul and Richy were off horsing around, Jane and I chatted quite a bit. She’s such an intelligent person and I thought them quite an odd couple at first. Paul is such an assertive fellow (you know) he knows what he wants and Jane is that way too. I often wondered to meself how they ever stayed together as long as they did (you know).

Maureen interviewed by Maurice Devereux for Le Chroniqueur (July 1988)

Mo + Pattie

Again, she and I had little in common but she was jolly and friendly, more relaxed than Cynthia. We got on but I felt there was definitely a north-south divide among the wives and girlfriends. And I had the definite impression that the girls from the north felt they had a prior claim to “the boys.”

The final straw was his affair with Maureen Starr, Ringo’s wife. She was the last person I would have expected to stab me in the back, but she did.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me

Pattie + Jane

Jane Asher was the girlfriend with whom I felt most at home, but because we both had heavy work commitments she was also the one I saw least. She came from a professional family, had grown up in London and, like me, had been privately educated. The family lived in Wimpole Street; her father was a psychiatrist and her mother a music teacher—her brother Peter became half of the pop duo Peter and Gordon. She was three years younger than me but we got on well and I’ve always been pleased to see her whenever we’ve met.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me

BONUS: Mo on Linda + Yoko

I always thought [Yoko] strange. I mean she would always interrupt the lads when they were working or do strange things without any reason whatsoever. I was there when John brought the bed, and said something about wanting Yoko to be there. I asked Richy about this and he just shook his head in disbelief. I often wondered how they all put up with her. Even Richy would come home and tell me all these strange stories about her. He once told me about her moaning into John’s microphone while they were recording a song and how the two of them would make-out during takes. I always avoided her in the studio for those reasons. She was just too strange for me.

Q: What was it like to sit in the studio with John, Paul and George? A: It was like watching a couple of actors rehearsing a scene in a movie (laughs). I would sit there with a cup of coffee in my hand and watch them for a while or maybe gossip with Linda [McCartney] or Mal [Evans]. When I did watch them, I always thought to meself, so this is what he’s been doing for the last six years! (laughs) I sometimes felt like a fly on the wall, but I knew that I had to be the luckiest fly in the world. Pattie [Harrison] would sometimes be there, but she would always leave early.

Maureen interviewed by Maurice Devereux for Le Chroniqueur (July 1988)

Can't really find any proper quotes from Pattie about Yoko or Linda. She mentions both in her book without much judgment and there are pictures of her with both of them throughout the years so they probably got on okay. I don't think Jane has ever been in the same room as either Linda or Yoko. Same with Cyn and Linda. Cyn's thoughts on Yoko are probably well-established at this point.

#was not expecting the cyn + pattie section to be the longest honestly #midposts #maureen starkey #pattie boyd #jane asher #cynthia lennon #linda mccartney #yoko ono #mo #pattie #jane #cyn #linda #yoko

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natsgrave · 7 months ago

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YOU'RE LOSING ME | wanda maximoff

how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? do i throw out everything we built or keep it? and you know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N's POV

What are you really willing to do for love? For someone so important to you?

Well, for me, I'll do everything and anything for that person. Even though it hurts. So much.

I rolled to my side and smile instantly crept into my face. There she is, my girlfriend looking so peaceful. I admire her sleeping state and curved her figures inside my mind.

"You know, it's rude to stare." She suddenly spoke making me laugh.

"What? Can't I admire my gorgeous girl?" I teasingly asked.

She slowly opened her eyes revealing my favorite green eyes, "Good morning, Y/N." she whispered with a smile.

"Good morning, witchy." I softly said with a little laugh that I tried to hide causing her to throw a pillow at me.

I love morning like this. Just us not caring about the world.

Just like the clock works before we know it, we already have to leave the bed to face reality.

"It's nice to finally see you awake, love birds." Tony said as he took a sipped of his coffee.

"We're not love birds, Stark." Wanda replied with the roll of her eyes.

Ah, yes, we're secret because she said and I quote she's not yet ready to come out. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't hurt me one bit because it does. All I want is to love her, out in the open and not like this.

I felt a hand touches my shoulder causing me to go back to reality, I look infront of me and met Wanda's soft gazes, "Are you okay? I've called you so many times."

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry, I'm good." I breathed out and walked away not giving her any second glance.

I walked towards the kitchen and make myself coffee when Natasha spoke.

"Still keeping it a secret?" I didn't even notice she's here. And yes, she's the only one who knows about our relationship. We didn't tell her for the record, she just walked in on us… making out.

Anyway, I look up at her and gave her a defeated smile, "Isn't it obvious?"

"How long are you going to ignore that pain inside your chest?" she asked and I didn't answer because honestly… I don't know either.

"Y/N, when are you going to choose yourself? When are you going to see what your worth really is?" She continues holding my shoulder forcing me to face her.

"I love her." I whispered.

"And I know that, I can see that. Hell, you wouldn't even ignore and bare all this pain if you don't." Nat said and lift my chin, "You're like a sister to me and I don't say this often but I do love you, Y/N. I care for you and it's really hard seeing my little sister getting hurt whether she does it unintentionally." She softly added.

"Nat, I-" The words I was about to say instantly cut off when I heard Wanda's laugh ringing loud. I look behind us and see her laughing with Vision. The fucking red walking toaster.

"Are you sure the reason why she's keeping you both a secret is because she is not yet ready or…?" She asked trailing her last word knowing that I'll know it instantly.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." I reassured her but deep down, it was for me.

Days turns into weeks which also turn into months. Months and nothing changed, not even a single thing. Every time I try opening the subject to Wanda, she always find a way to divert it into different subject but today, I wouldn't let it happen. Not anymore.

"Wanda, we need to talk." I sternly said as I enter her room.

"Hi to you too, baby." she replied still sitting on her bed.

"We can't go on like this." I directly said starting the topic.

"Y/N, can we–"

"No, we can't. We're going to talk about this right now. God, we've been together for almost three years, Wanda. Three long fucking years and not even single effort you made to change our status."

"Y/N, you know damn well I'm not yet ready to make us public." She said nearly shouting.

"Three years is not enough for you? I didn't say that you make us public, all I want is for the team to know. Just them. I'm tired being your little secret, I'm tired of you being mine just around this goddamn four walls. I respect what you want and need, Wanda. For three years, I prioritized what you want, this, but you have to understand that I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this anymore. I kept pushing my needs aside because I love you, but I can't do it anymore. I want to love you, freely. I kept choosing you, I kept giving you all my best me's until there's nothing left for me. I can't choose you anymore." I ramble, on the verge of crying but I kept all my emotions under control.

"Y/N, I… I'm sorry." Wanda softly said standing infront of me.

"Are you apologizing because you're now realizing all of this or are you apologizing because you still can't give the only thing I want?" I asked quietly.

"I'm sorry because I hurt you and I keep on hurting you."

"THEN TAKE IT AWAY! MAKE THIS GO AWAY BECAUSE I DON'T WANT THIS! DO SOMETHING!" I shouted as my tears finally left my eyes.

"Y/N…"

"Wanda, I don't know anymore. Do I throw out everything we built or keep it? I'm getting tired. I tried, I keep telling myself to wait until you're ready but every time, this voices inside my head kept telling and asking me, are you even going to get there?" I cried out.

"Are you… Are you tired now, Y/N?" she shakily asked.

I nod and wiped my tears, "I'm so tired, Wanda. I feel so lost, this between us made me doubt myself so much. Am I not worth the risk for you? I'm tired of wondering how can you just pretend everyday like we're nothing." I sobbed and sat on the bed as I rest my face on my hands, "I'm tired of saying that I'm okay, that it doesn't hurt. I'm tired of pretending everyday. I'm tired of waiting for you to fulfill your promises. I'm tired of defending you against Nat especially myself. I believed in you, Wanda. I kept waiting but it seems like in this relationship, it's not us against the world. It's me against you." I said between cries looking at her to see her crying as well.

"Y/N, I know whatever I say right now wouldn't change anything. It won't take the pain that I've caused you but trust me, I love you. I really do. I can understand how hurtful it must have been for you. I know that I failed to treat you with the love and respect that you deserve. I am truly sorry for any pain or suffering that I have caused you. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I can only imagine the amount of pain that I have caused you. I want you to know that I am willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us. I am willing to work on myself and our relationship to ensure that this does not happen again. I know that sorry is not enough to fix the mess I have made. I promise to do everything I can to show you how much I love and value you as my girlfriend." Wanda sobbingly said as she held my hand.

"There, you're making promises once again. How many time did you promise me that you'll make it up to me? at first you'll make such effort but eventually, you'll stop and forget about it. I don't even know if I can trust anything that's coming out of your mouth right now." I said and walked away from her, "It hurts me to think that we can't share this part of our lives together with those who are important to us. Am I not important to you? Do you not trust me? Or is it just too scary to go against the norm? I can't keep pretending not to be in love with you when we're around others. I want to hold your hand, introduce you to my friends and family, and just be able to love you openly without any fear or shame." I added. "I don't understand." Wanda said. I chuckled, "I know you don't."

"Do you want to end this? Us?" She asked with fears in her eyes.

I stayed quiet for few seconds thinking what I really want before looking back at her meeting her eyes, "Yes." I husked out causing more tears to fall out of her eyes.

"I'm just so tired, Wanda. I'm tired of the stress and the pressure that surrounds us every day. I'm tired of asking 'how long?' I'm tired of feeling like there's never enough time to do everything we want to do. I'm tired of constantly feeling like we're not doing enough, or that we're falling short somehow. Most of all, I'm tired of feeling disconnected from you. It feels like you've been so busy, so caught up in your own life, that you don't take the time to connect with me. I miss those intimate moments where we could just talk about anything and everything, and I feel like we don't have those as often as we should. It has to be done and I don't want to place blame on anyone— not myself, not you, not anyone else." I walked towards her and wiped her tears before pressing our foreheads together, "I'm sorry, I never thought that this day will come. I'm sorry I got tired and couldn't wait anymore. I love you but I can't be with you anymore. My heart won't start anymore." I finished before lingering a long kiss on her head.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry for not showing it enough. I'm sorry I failed us." She sniffles before looking at me and caressed my cheeks, "I love you… in every universe."

I finally understood that true love isn't always about being together; Sometimes, it's about letting go. Because love alone, wasn't enough.

Both ends of rope were held, but they were held by me, and only me.

I love her too much and that's my biggest mistake I'll never regret, and if I'd ever meet her again in another lifetime, I'll beg the god to let me have you this time.

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seths-rogens · 1 year ago

Text

cardboard houses, cardboard hearts | M | 1.9k | ao3

should’ve been finishing my infidelity au, but instead the cardboard joe cutout i was given inspired me to crank this out in one sitting,, anyway, please enjoy :)

—————

Eddie often thanks God that he took the leap and moved to Indianapolis after he finally graduated high school. Not that he really believes in God. Just… figure of speech and all. Though, maybe he’d believe in God if they were a metalhead with tatties and an eyebrow piercing, but he thinks that might ruin their image honestly.

He’s getting off topic.

Eddie often thanks God for Indy in moments like these. Moments where he has a fucking beautiful man pinned to his own front door, strong, thick fingers tangling in his hair as Eddie desperately tries to fit his key into the lock. He shoves his thigh between Pretty Man’s legs - he didn’t catch his name - and presses upwards. Pretty Man whines, grinding down and making it all that more difficult to unlock the goddamn door.

“Hold on, Sweetheart. I just gotta-“ Eddie bites back a groan as Pretty Man kisses down his neck, sucking a bruise over his pulse as the key finally slips into the lock. Chrissy’s never gonna let him live the marks down.

He’s surprised he picked anyone up tonight at all. He’d gone to a concert alone for once, as Chrissy was staying at her new girlfriend’s place, and Gareth and Jeff weren’t the biggest fans of his guilty pleasure artist ‘King S’.

And honestly? In any other world. Eddie wouldn’t be either.

King S isn’t his usual style. Where Eddie usually loves a hard drumline, thrashing guitars and lyrics you can only scream, King S is all soft melodies and crooning vocals set to slow drum beats.

He’d stumbled upon him completely by accident, honestly. It’d been a slow day at the record store Eddie manages. He’d been there for nearly five hours and so far he’d only served maybe three customers - and two of those customers were an old couple shopping for their granddaughter. So he’d picked the first magazine he could reach off the stand by the counter, and flipped it open to a random page.

It’d been an interview with King S, who’d just released his first album at the time. He was talking about his inspiration for making music - his best friend and little brother who, he’s quoted as saying, ‘always ragged on him when he played his pop shit in the car’ - and the meaning behind his stage name - reclaiming an old high school nickname he’d been given after his brief stint as a bit of a mean girl, though now he promises he’s using it for good.

He’d flipped the page to find a double page spread of King S curled up in a bathtub. His eyes were squeezed shut through the lacy masquerade mask that was supposedly his staple (no one knew his real identity after all). His hair was messy and flying all over the place. He was…

He was naked. Or at least that’s how it seemed.

His arms and legs were bare, the black and white photo only emphasising the toned curves of the muscles in his arms and back and the dark hair covering those lush thighs.

Call him obvious but Eddie had been intrigued. He knew they’d received a new shipment of records that morning that weren’t supposed to be hitting the shelves until the next day, so he figured what the hell!

Ten minutes later, elbow deep in a shoddily painted green wooden crate, Eddie emerged victorious with King S’s debut album ‘Robins and Tadpoles’ in his hands.

The album cover was two people’s hands clasped together, matching ice cream cone tattoos on both wrists. There was a little dedication on the back. To R & D.

He took it out to the turntable on the shop floor and dropped the needle. When the soft music started, he was hesitant, but as the album moved on he quickly realised he was hooked.

He’d gone into the shop bright and early the next day - on his day off no less - and bought the album. Only slightly laughing at the look on Mike’s - part time Lit student, part time cashier, full time grump - face.

That had been two years ago, and Eddie had been solidly on the King S train since.

Sure, Gareth and Jeff - and Grant too when he was in town - would tease him about abandoning his people, about betraying the freaks and the weirdos, but really they supported his love for the artist, even if they didn’t quite get it.

So when King S announced a stop in Indy on his second album tour, the guys (and Chrissy) had banded together to get him tickets as an early 26th birthday present. Except when the day came, they were all busy, so he went by himself.

He didn’t mind really, was just happy to be there to appreciate the music. (And the man himself, Eddie has eyes, come on now.)

Elated and feeling just a little self fulfilled after the concert, Eddie had gone to his favourite queer/metal bar, Crash. He’s picked people up there before, sure, but they’ve all been metalheads, just like him, and as many of his friends have said in the past, he’s cursed to have the hots for the preppy jock types.

Usually, that’s not the type of guy he’d find in Crash. Tonight was different.

Eddie had been sat at the bar, thinking about King S’s arms beneath the crimson sweater he wore on stage, when a gorgeous man had stepped up beside him to buy a beer. The man was wearing a dark, charcoal coloured t-shirt under a light grey Members Only jacket, paired with light blue levi’s.

Eddie kinda felt his jaw hit the floor. Could this be the perfect end to the perfect night?

This brings us back to now. Eddie finally pushes the door open, swings Pretty Man around and pushes him back against it.

He drops his keys somewhere. It doesn’t matter. He’ll find them tomorrow.

They’re grinding fast against one another now, only their harsh, panting breaths filling the silence of Eddie’s apartment. Eddie slides his hand into Pretty Man’s hair, tugs on this side of too hard. Pretty Man moans, loud, almost echoing, and tilts his head to the side, baring his neck for Eddie to defile.

Eddie leans in, presses his lips to those two little moles, and—

“What the fuck?”

Eddie pulls back to look at Pretty Man’s face. He’s still, not looking at Eddie, instead staring with wide eyes into the open plan of Eddie’s living room.

Eddie follows his gaze and… Oh. Yeah. He forgot about that.

See the King S tickets hadn’t been Eddie’s only birthday gift. He knew this would come back to bite him in the ass, but his friends thought it was hilarious. Eddie thinks they’re assholes.

Because Pretty Man is staring at a life size cutout of King S, standing by the wall.

Eddie winces, pulls away. This guy might not look like a metalhead, but he was in a metal bar, there’s no way he listens to King S. He’s gotta come up with an explanation for this, and fast.

“Um, yeah… About that… would you believe me if I said I didn’t buy it?” He asks sheepishly, avoiding Pretty Man’s eyes.

“You’re a fan?” Pretty Man asks, except he sounds dejected, which Eddie thinks is weird. And actually? Fuck this guy. He’s allowed to like whatever he wants.

“Yeah, man. What’s wrong with that? Maybe it’s not for everyone but King S actually makes really good music.” He gets more than a little defensive, takes a step back and crosses his arms over his chest.

“No, no… that’s not what I meant.” Pretty Man raises his hands placatingly.

“Then what did you mean?”

Pretty Man sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “Don’t you recognise me?”

Eddie furrows his brow in confusion. “Do I like, know you or something?”

Pretty Man raises his eyes to the ceiling like this is difficult. “Really? Nothing?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t…” Pretty man nods, sighs, and then walks past Eddie further into the apartment. “Hey, you can’t just—“

“How about now?” Pretty Man asks, stopping right next to the cardboard cut out.

Eddie flits his eyes between the man and the cut out, trying to understand what Pretty Man is getting at until he sighs again, pulls down the sleeve of his jacket to reveal…

A tattoo of an ice cream cone, and suddenly it all clicks.

Oh. Oh no. That’s… oh holy ever loving fuck.

“Holy shit!” Eddie exclaims, pointing frantically between Pretty Man and the cardboard. “You’re King S!”

“Yeah. It’s uh, Steve, actually.” Pretty Man, King S, Steve nods, seeming much more shy than he was ten minutes ago. He’s curled his arms around himself, trying to make himself shrink. Eddie feels bad.

“Did you think I was trying to sleep with you because you’re famous?”

“I mean, weren’t you?” Steve won’t meet his eye. Instead he’s staring around the room, taking in all the little details of Eddie’s life.

Eddie takes a step towards him. “No, man. I just thought you were pretty, that’s all.”

“You really didn’t know who I was?” Though he still looks unsure, Steve finally meets his eye.

Eddie shakes his head, coming to a stop in front of Steve. “I didn’t even buy that thing, dude. My friends thought it would be funny because you’re like, the only non-metal artist I listen to.”

Steve smiles at that. He really is so pretty, Eddie can’t help but think. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, man. Heard your first album right after it came out and I was hooked!” Eddie laughs softly. “I used to be a little bit narrow minded when it came to music, but I heard yours and it’s like the world of music blasted wide open.”

A pretty pink blush spreads its way across Steve’s cheeks. “Oh, uh… That’s really cool. I’m glad you like it.”

“I was at your show tonight, actually.”

“You were?”

“Yeah!” He shrugs. “I used to play in a band in high school, we were never very good but I liked to think I had good stage presence, right?” Steve nods and Eddie grins, leaning in a little. “I was nothing compared to you. It was fucking electric, I felt like my skin was buzzing.”

Steve’s smile seems to grow even wider. He sways forward into Eddie’s space, almost unconsciously. “This might be crazy, but do you wanna start over? Forgo the one night stand and just, I don’t know, get coffee or something? I know this cute little 24 hour place, Victoria Street, it’s only a couple blocks away.”

Eddie narrows his eyes a little. “Stevie… barely anyone knows Victoria Street. Are you, dare I say it… local?”

Steve’s cheeks darken even further. “Maybe.”

Eddie laughs. “Then, I’d love to start over. I wanna get to know you as Steve, not King S.”

Steve slips his hand into Eddie’s, tugs him

back towards the door. “God, how much do you know..?”

“I may have read a couple interviews.”

Steve groans, embarrassed, as the door clicks shut behind them.

Then, a few moments later. “Shit! My keys!”

The date goes well. As does the second, and the third, and so on, and so on. They’re officially exclusive by date 7.

Steve meets Chrissy and the boys on date 20. Eddie meets Dustin and Robin, right before date 45.

On date 94, Steve presents his third album to Eddie. There’s a different dedication on the back cover this time.

To E, my love.

——————

taglist: @judasofsuburbia @gothbat99 @cheatghost @flowercrowngods @fastcardotmp3 @simplebtromance @gonzofromspace

lemme know if u wanna be added to a permanent taglist for anything i do in the future, i’m thinkin’ that might be funky :)

#zee writes #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #the adventures of cardboard joe #<— starting that tag just in case 👀

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esouliie · 2 years ago

Text

– HAPPY GILMORE

– pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

– synopsis: natasha always looks good, even when she’s dressed like adam sandler.

– warnings: fluff, thigh riding, make out sesh, oral fixation. (18+)

Natasha had always found your fascination with her hair odd. It was nothing special- just a casual red. She’s seen plenty of women on the street with the same colour. Even your best friend, Wanda, had red hair. And yet you were obsessed with just hers.

“Nat!” You call from the living room.

It was 8am on a Saturday- Natasha’s only day off- and she had just finished her morning run. You, too tired and lazy to come, decided to wait on the sofa for the redhead’s return, promising to not fall asleep. But, you did.

Leaving the bedroom, she finds you curled up with Liho, the news playing freely in the background.

“Natasha!” You call again without realising the woman was right next to you.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Natasha leans down to place a kiss to your forehead, stroking the black cat on top of you gently.

“No.” You groan, an arm covering the place she just kissed.

“You promised you wouldn’t fall back asleep.” Natasha snorts as she shoos Liho off your lap. The cat trudges away grudgingly, eyeing the woman as she sits next to you.

You hum, giving up on speaking to your girlfriend, sleep lulling on the edge.

She laughs again.

Peeking slightly, you notice Natasha sat watching the TV. Her beautiful side profile highlighted by the morning sun- all sharp lines and soft skin sit in contrast. Her short hair was damp- the red bleeding into a deep brown. She looked so hot; dressed in a wife beater, a purple sweater wrapped around her waist, and grey shorts, but she didn’t need to know that.

Her ego was big enough already.

“You know, you dress like Adam Sandler.” You announce, catching the woman off guard. She watched you face contort as you try to hold in your laughter.

Unfazed by your joke, she replies, “or Adam Sandler dresses like me.”

With that, you lose it. Hard laughter echos the apartment, drowning out the news anchors above. The last remnants of sleep slipaway.

You sit up, unable to breathe between your laughter.“That’s not the flex you think it is.”

Natasha’s brow twitches, “Whatever.” She turns away from you, attention back on the boring TV.

“Oh, cmon.” You swing a leg over her, placing your full weight on her lap.

You pinch her cheek softly. “It’s just a bit of fun, little baby.”

She swats your hand away, ignoring you.

“Haven’t you heard? Goofy is the new handsome.” You quote from a Sandler movie with a shit eating grin, as you tuck a loose bang behind Natasha’s ear.

She doesn’t swat your hand away this time.

“You know, you’d look good as a brunette.” Her gaze shifts to you.

A quirk in her brow. She could work with this.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you shuffle closer, “like really good. I’m surprised you’ve never done brown before.”

Her arms wrap tighter, your fronts flushed together, lips angled expertly to press against your neck.

“I thought you liked the red.” She whispers, knowing her breath tickles your sensitive skin.

“I fucking love the red!” You reply all breathy. She loves how easily she can affect you. Just a little graze of her lips and you’re a puddle.

Natasha replies by latching on to your neck, soft kisses travelling down and across your collarbone. She takes her time, red marks follow in haste, as she caresses, licks, bites.

Working her way up, teeth graze your jaw. A hand unwinds from your waist and long fingers take ahold of your chin, turning you to meet soft lips. The hot embrace closing in on your tongue, a shared wetness and heavy sighs fill the silence between you both.

Her kisses are intoxicating; the bold scent of her cologne floods your senses. She always smells so fucking good, you cant help but jump her bones. You take ahold of the bottom of the white vest, tugging the material up, revealing her toned abs.

You pull away, sitting to her side, eyes drifting down to look at the sculpted woman beneath you.

“You like, baby?” Her voice comes out husky, a tongue runs across her bottom lip. She’s leaning back, an arm over the back of the sofa, efficiently “man spreading” with you still perched on her knee.

You place a hand where the vest covers skin, fingers dipping underneath the material, grazing against the woman’s under boob. Slowly, you trail down; palm gliding over every curve, every dip of Natasha’s abdomen, until you reach the waistband of her shorts. Boldly, you slide your fingers under the thick material, tips stopping just above the waistband of her boxers.

Natasha lets out a shuddered breath, her heart beat racing as she watches your hand disappear.

“You like, baby?” You copy condescendingly, loving the power trip you’re experiencing right now.

She groans, head resting even more against the sofa. Her hand wraps around your wrist easily, pushing your fingers down till slickness coats them.

You move up and down, then lightly circle her nerves. Her wetness making it’s appearance with each movement.“Listen to you, Tasha. That all for me?”

Before you could slide down to her entrance, her grip on your wrist returns, pulling your hand out of her shorts.

Natasha brings your soaked digits up to your face and you take them in, her essence coating your tongue as you moan lowly at the taste.

With a hand at the back of your neck, she holds you steady. The other manipulating your fingers to slide deeper down your throat. Your eyes flutter shut, as the last of your attitude flies out the window.

Natasha smiles at the sight, “There’s my girl.”

Your fingers leave your mouth as she tugs you forward, lips crashing onto yours. Large hands fix perfectly to your waist, tugging you forward and back. The ache between your legs building as you sigh into the kiss.

“I’m fucking you till I’m bored.”

To which she did.

Hours later, Natasha finally got tired. The woman was constantly complaining about the ache in her jaw as if she wasn’t the one who decided to eat you out until you couldn’t cum anymore.

You roll your eyes at the memory.

The morning sun had turned into the evening sun and the city below buzzed with life. You were both still on the sofa- wrapped in a blanket and in each other’s embrace. Liho had returned- finally able to rest on you- without Natasha disturbing her.

Happy Gilmore played on the TV, and despite your earlier taunts, Natasha was laughing at the screen alongside you.

She had to give it to him. The guy was hilarious.

“Actually, I change my mind.” Your voice gains her attention.

The shit eating grin is back.

“It’s probably best you don’t dye your hair brown.”

Natasha turns her head to the side in confusion.

“You’ll look even more like Adam Sandler.” You point at the screen as the actor checks himself out in the mirror, a comb running through his dark hair.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

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chaoticloving · 2 years ago

Text

new years, new family

harry styles x reader (SOH masterlist)

summary: y/n meets anne and gemma for the first time, and harry's just happy. || w/c: 2.2k

a/n: felt i should post a bit more before im back to class, enjoy and have a good new year!

Anne was an amazing mother. She was kind, empathetic, and had the strong will that helped her do what was right. Harry loved his mum too. Despite all the arguments and the fame, he has always had faith in her. He truly felt the love and comfort that a mother should give any child—and he still does to this day as an adult.

Anne prided on being someone her kids could go too if they needed an ear and always gave her kids space, but that didn’t stop her from being curious about their lives. She would sometimes sneak in a “do you like someone” or “when do you think you’ll have kids” every now and then, but they knew she just had their best interest at heart.

Anne was very careful about what she asked Harry though, not to say that she would be blunt with Gemma, but there were certain questions that would sound too much like a TMZ journalist asking questions. So, Anne would turn to Gemma to maybe slip some detail about Harry’s life.

The last time Gemma came around her mothers though, she did tell Anne that Harry’s got a crush that sort-of, maybe, turned into his girlfriend. “But don’t quote me on this. I don’t know for sure.” Gemma reminded her mother.

But Anne was bubbling with excitement. She knew the girlfriend in question is Y/n, the women Harry might of suitably alluded to having a crush on, and she couldn’t be more excited for her boy. She reminded herself though that she can’t be too pushy, but she can watch the young actresses movies.

After just under six months of dating, Harry decides he wants to tell his family.

“I know my mum won’t tell and Gemma will just make fun of me, I just don’t like keeping you a secret from everybody important in my life.” Harry confessed, kissing his lovers face all over as a way to win her over.

Y/n had a habit of overthinking, but seeing her boyfriends puppy dog eyes she just couldn’t say no.

“I believe you.” She kissed him back. “Just don’t embarrass me when you tell them.”

The next morning Harry was practically jumping from excitement, yet feeling like he needed the bathroom every five seconds from nerves. Harry knew his family wouldn’t hate Y/n or everything of the sort. It was just the fact they would be one of the first to know and their secret relationship wouldn’t be a secret anymore. He knew Y/n wasn’t just in it because of the the secrecy, but the fact still didn’t make him feel any better.

Harry powered through, and made the call.

The line rang a couple times before the cheery voice of Anne rang through. “Hi Honey, so good to hear from you!”

Harry laughed, walking around his London flat aimlessly. “It’s nice to talk to you too. Been feelin’ so busy from work that I think I’ll go crazy.”

“Oh no, well remember to take breaks and focus on you.” Anne thought this was her chance. “Do you have someone you can talk to or someone you feel comfortable with? Go out with them and forget about work.”

Harry blushed, he was in the kitchen and he could see the back of y/n. He thinks she is getting her morning coffee all ready as well as a cup for him.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve met someone.”

The pure joy running through Anne's body was something she last felt when Gemma told her about her last boyfriend.

"And is it who I think it is?"

"Have you been talkin' to Gemma recently?" Harry ask, false annoyance slipped through his voice. "But uh-" He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I think so. "

Anne practically screamed through the phone, excitement radiating though.

"But we are talking about Y/n, right?"

"Yes! Yes, oh my goodness, you finally are together! You two look so adorable together and I know to never buy into something TMZ or Daily Mail says but I saw your little photo and then when Gemma finally told me that you told her that you were talking to Y/n I started watching all of her movies so far and she is very talented, although, i have to admit, when she kissed that other boy in the movie I kept thinking how you would been feeling and--"

A couple seconds into her rant, Harry put Anne on speaker phone and was suffering from the adrenaline rushing though him. He was coming down from the high of fear and going into a tired yet happy state.

Y/n handed Harry a cup of coffee, half cream with a ton of sugar added in, then sat down next to him with her own coffee in hand. Y/n was trying to hide her smile through a look of embarrassment, but the actress couldn't quite hide her emotions from Harry.

Harry nudged Y/n, a smile on his rosey face. They look at each other with such adoration that it was sickening to anyone single.

"Harry? Harry, you still there?" Anne's voice snapped Harry from Y/n's trance on him.

"Yeah, I'm here mum." Harry chided, clearing his throat. "Just got a bit side tracked. What did you say?"

"When are you two coming over then? I know Gemma is coming round for new years so six could work, maybe five, or is that too early for new years?"

Y/n's eyes went wide with shock as she heard Anne's words then she could've sworn her heart stopped beating when Harry replied, as nonchalantly as ever, sure mum.

"Six'll work." Harry said, saying his goodbyes. He hung up his phone and smiled at Y/n. "You excited?"

"Definitely."

...

Y/n was not excited. Not in the slightest.

Y/n and Harry spent the holidays with their own families. They called each other, constantly; and much to Annes delight, and Gemma's partial annoyance, they've been hearing all about Y/n constantly. But a few day's after the holidays, they both met up at Harry's flat to make the journey to Anne's.

Currently, they were in Harry's Range Rover, close to Anne's house. They left a couple hours after Anne's call, knowing the drive is long and traffic would most likely be a nightmare. Harry has made the long drive quite a few times since he has moved to London, he knew it like the back of his hand; Y/n, while she hasn't made this specific drive, has gone on plenty of long trips in her life.

Yet, this drive, was pure torture.

She didn't want to tell Harry thats she is scared. She knows Harry would turn the car around and say it's no big deal, but he would be disappointed.

It wasn't like she didn't like what she has heard about his family, the opposite in fact. It's what they have heard about her.

Currently, the media is portraying Y/n as a serial dater, using someone for a night, or weekend if they're lucky, then dumping them and repeat. And poor Harry is the unconfirmed boyfriend that Y/n is dragging along for a long time.

They got all that from one group photo at a party last month.

It's not true. She knows it's not true, Harry knows it's not true, but does Anne and Gemma know it's not true? Anne invited her when there wasn't too much drama going on, but now? She was terrified for what would happen.

Y/n is just glad that it is just Gemma and Anne tonight, as much as she would want to meet Robin or Desmond, she can't deal with anymore people in one night.

"Okay so a couple tips." Harry started, turning down the volume of the song on the radio, Fleetwood Mac obviously. "One, don't ask Gemma if she is dating someone unless you want her to give you a silent treatment."

She nodded.

"Don't mention fame or anything too out of touch. Not really specific, just general advice because my mum always scoffs at people who flaunt their money."

"You say this in your custom two-hundred-thousand car." Y/n joked, trying to keep her cool.

"I got teased a bit." Harry shrugs, flipping the indicator and turning down a neighborhood. "But that's just teasing."

Harry sighs as he pulls to the side of the road in front of a nice house. It was cozy, yet big enough for a couple and a guest or two. "Ready?"

"Nothing else?"

"Not really sure." Harry fidgeted. "You're the first they would or could meet so..."

Y/n just nods as Harry's voice trails off, it's all she can do. Their thoughts mimic each other.

She's meeting her future in-laws.

I'm meeting my future in-laws.

The only difference was the tone. Excitement and fear.

Harry walked round to the other side, opening her door and holding his hand to help her out. Y/n felt like the paparazzi was watching her, but instead of flashing lights it was curtains suspiciously moving.

Harry knocked on the door, hand in a death grip with Y/n's. "Deep breaths. They're going to love you."

"Harry!" Anne swung open the door and smiled, when she looked over she saw Y/n, causing her to smile brighter and nearly bring tears to the women's eyes. "Y/n! I'm so glad you're here. Come in come in!"

Y/n had her red carpet smile on. She was carful to not make her smile look too obnoxious, but not like she was not excited to be here.

"Ms Twist you're house is beautiful." She complemented, earning her first awe of the night.

"Please, call me Anne." She blushed. "And thank you sweetheart."

"Where's Gem?" Harry asked, taking his shoes off and brushing his hand on Y/n's.

"Living room. She's on the phone with someone." She winked and walked into the house. "Come in, I've got some nibbles for you two."

Y/n mouthed, someone?. Harry just rolled his eyes and mouthed, "ex." She nodded and followed Harry into the the house.

"Gemma get off the phone." They heard Anne yell. "Say hi to the couple."

Gemma’s jaw dropped as she hugged Harry. She saw Y/n and her smile grew. "You're the famous Y/n we've been hearing about!"

Y/n nervously laughed but nodded, excepting the hug happily. Harry sighed thought, face turning a shade of pink. "It's so nice to meet you!" Y/n was smiling. Their first impressions were so far good. They seemed excited to meet her, and Y/n was able to breath finally now.

"Not long until midnight, so I've got to get going on the dinner." Anna decided.

"Let me help!" Y/n jumped at the opportunity to get to know Anne and get in her good graces. Following her to the kitchen and leaving the siblings behind.

"Mum's going to love her." Gemma whispered to Harry, shoving his shoulder. Harry just blushed, happy that his girlfriend is getting along with his family.

Midnight struck, cheers and hugs were done, and a sneaky kiss between the two young and in love celebrities were shared. Anne was tired, so the rest decided to retire to their rooms for the night. Harry took their two bags up to the stairs and revealed the small room that housed talented singer: Harry Styles.

It had grey walled with posters hung all around. As Y/n looked closer behind the records and old CDs tapped to the wall, she found a poorly covered up dent in the wall. "What's this?"

"Something that will definitely give my mum a heart attack." Harry smiled, dropping the bags. "Was playing with some of my friends and one "accidentally" threw a nerf gun at me."

"Sounds fun." She mused, continuing to look around the room. "Seems like your music taste has not changed." Y/n noticed the Joni Mitchell collection, right next to the Stevie Nicks one.

"Nope." Harry sighed, standing next to his girlfriend, but she could sense the smile forming on his face. "I'm glad I threw out all of those porno mags."

"So thoughtful." Y/n pushed Harry away as he laughed. Harry grabbed her and threw themselves onto the small, twin sized bed that had superman sheets on.

"Superman? At sixteen?" She asked.

"Hey, don't hate on superman." Harry defends. "These sheets are too comfy to get rid of."

They laugh a bit more, settling slowly into the silence that the small room gives them. They can hear Gemma talking to someone through the wall, though they don't mind--they're too wrap up in themselves to care.

"Think your family likes me?" She asked.

"Oh definitely. You're much better then any guy Gemma brought round." Harry remarked. "Plus mum loves you loads, it's really easy to see. She doesn't just offer her special margaritas to anyone."

"I'm glad." Is all Y/n says. She's tired now, a long stressful day of nerves really washed her out, but thankfully, she's got an amazing boyfriend to sleep next to.

"I'm glad you got to meet them." Harry admits. "No way you can break up with me now. Mum'll miss you too much."

"I'd miss her too. Not that I'd ever want to break up with you."

Harry kissed her sweetly, "Good, because I'd never do that too. Wouldn't even think of it."

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