#mix n match project
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itz-pandora · 2 months ago
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2 more!
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starshine-valley · 26 days ago
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Some random stuff for my unit swap au !! (It’s been a while lol)
The different internal fights within each groups:
-> Star’s * Purity: Shizuku and Tsukasa (Similar to Tsukasa scolding Nene in the Main Story of WXS. The argument centers around Shizuku doing it to run away from her past idol life and not about achieving the dream their sisters wanted. Shizuku argues that they should start a band because of them and not their sisters and Tsukasa gets frustrated by that. He did all this for Saki. They agreed on it! They were becoming stars in a band for their family… to make them smile. why did Shizuku forget that?)
-> Cute Cotton Sky: Shiho and An (Shiho still thinks that idol stuff isn’t all it is cracked up to be. She’s quick to criticize the group as they seem to be taking this as something fun when she’s seen firsthand how the idol industry effected Shizuku. An fights back, recalling her frustration of not surpassing RAD Weekend. Shiho criticizes her for using this as a backup dream, not even wanting it from the start. How can she find enjoyment in this when it’s far from her dream? Did she give up that easily? She leaves An, Mizuki and Nene on the rooftop.)
-> Happy ! Smiling ! VVonderland !!: Mafuyu and literally everyone; primarily Saki though. (Mafuyu has a monologue that is criticizing H!S!VV!! for wanting to give happiness to others but using the stage as a means to benefit their own selfish desires. How can they save the wonder stage if they plan on separating anyway? They were never friends. Just colleagues. Minori is here for more experience that could help her pass an audition one day, Toya’s running away from classical music and Saki still has foolish dreams of getting her band back together. She gives them a reality check. This troupe won’t save them from what they want. They should just leave now. Saki can’t bring this group together. She can’t save them.)
-> Clear n’ Vivid: Ena and Rui. (Once again similar to what happened in Wandsho except kinda worse? But not really? Ena is pushing the group away and Rui quite frankly has had enough of it. While there is no “you will never be a star” scene, Rui still criticizes her about the way she handles situations (there’s a whole conflict with Haruka and Ichika’s duo and Ena didn’t take too kindly to it.) Ena, after the argument with Rui escalates, in frustration, ruins one of her spray painted drawings in the Train Station SEKAI and a new one appears in its place. It shows a metaphor of the divided team.)
-> MI2ERY’5 MYSTERY: Akito and Honami. (Honami is the one stuck in the abandoned SEKAI because of losing her childhood friends and her new friends discarding her like what happened in middle school. This started out as a “please come back” with Emu and Airi that then resulted in a reality check coming from Akito. Surprisingly, he almost manages to reach Honami before she tells Miku and Rin to kick them out, knowing that what Akito said rang true but not wanting to accept it just yet.)
I apologize if these are super out of character 😭🙏🏻 these are just mini concepts I had for conflicts in each group :D
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gracieheartspedro · 10 months ago
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Your Needs, My Needs
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THE PRELUDE
a masterlist of how you can help gaza
pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)
description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.
word count: 3.7k words
warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao
author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!
“Sign here and she’s all yours.”
When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life. 
While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway. 
She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields. 
The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours. 
Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it. 
You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway. 
You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.
It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all. 
You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street. 
You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior. 
The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so. 
Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor. 
In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position. 
You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed.  Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road. 
You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened. 
Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”
The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field. 
Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.
You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence. 
-
When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings. 
You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you. 
A hot cowboy saved your life. 
It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here. 
You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine. 
“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”
She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”
You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start. 
“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”
“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”
The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it. 
You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”
“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”
You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal. 
You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway. 
When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads. 
You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card. 
“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”
You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both. 
You needed your furniture, after all. 
It will be okay, you tell yourself. 
“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”
“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”
You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”
You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night. 
The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it. 
Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy. 
It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.
You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl. 
He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric. 
He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color. 
“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”
You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.
You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you. 
“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”
The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way. 
“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”
You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.
“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.
You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.” 
He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”
“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.” 
You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole. 
“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”
You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”
“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”
You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”
“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”
You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”
“Well, what have you tried doin’?”
You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.
“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”
He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did. 
“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.
“What Texas or this bathroom?”
He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin. 
“You got tons of jokes, huh?” 
You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile. 
“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame. 
You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet. 
“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”
“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”
You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you. 
He would come over again? To fix your toilet? 
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”
“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”
He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”
-
His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired. 
“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”
You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture. 
You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.
While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do. 
You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.
“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate. 
“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out. 
“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”
He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”
Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled. 
He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head. 
“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”
You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places. 
You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture. 
“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”
“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”
You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold. 
“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school. 
“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.” 
You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”
They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady. 
He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.
“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”
Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”
Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”
You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods. 
You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken. 
He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze. 
“Somethin’ wrong?”
You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.
“N-no, everything is okay.”
“Don’t look it.”
“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”
Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.” 
“O-oh okay.”
“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”
You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.
  You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”
PART 1 COMING SOON!
taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon
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diqldrunks · 7 months ago
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✧*̥˚ nav | inbox | main masterlist *̥˚✧
rafe cameron and you, wheezie’s babysitter… (part two here!)
a/n: this concept has me in a chokehold! asks are open for rafe <3
cw/tw: wheezie has been aged down to six because, well, PLOT (i don’t actually like this that much anymore but i’m posting anyway ✋).
:・゚✧:・゚
imagine being wheezie’s babysitter, spending a lot of your weekends at tanneyhill. you would feel guilty about wheezie just watching tv when you were with her, so you would always try to mix it up, doing loads of different arts and craft projects with her (making sure to do anything involving paint or glue on some old canvas outside as to not make a mess in a house that wasn’t yours)
imagine being wheezie’s babysitter, and the first time you meet rafe cameron is when you are covered in hot pink paint and glitter. you had found wheezie a kids apron with the paints, but weren’t able to find anything to cover yourself, causing your top to become a mess. rafe had offered to lend you a jumper for you to put on while he put your top in the wash on a quick cycle. (yes = it smelt so good!)
imagine being wheezie’s babysitter, and deciding to make friendship bracelets with her one afternoon. you had some of the string from when you were younger at home, and thought wheezie would enjoy it — which she did. you spend ages (well, ‘ages’ in the perspective of a six year old) coming up with colour pairings and charm choices. there was one bracelet that wheezie was adamant that you made, because it needed to ‘be prefect’.
imagine being wheezie’s babysitter, and having rafe cameron get home as you were tidying up the mess that you and wheezie had caused as she’s upstairs asleep. after a slightly awkward ‘hello’, rafe was about to leave when you stopped him.
“wait, i have something for you.”
“you do?”
“well, wheezie does — we made friendship bracelets, and she was adamant we made one for you — here. you don’t have to wear it, i would totally get that—”
“that bracelet you’re wearing — that’s from wheez, right?”
“yeah, it’s one of the ones we made today…”
“i don’t see why i wouldn’t wear mine if you’re wearing yours. means we can match too. might need your help to put it on though — please.”
imagine being wheezie’s babysitter, and watching as rafe decided what wrist he wanted it on. you tied it, making sure to leave a gap of two fingers so it wouldn’t be too tight on him. you tried to ignore your fingers brushing his skin, this being the first contact you’ve had with each other — not knowing it would be far from the last.
a/n: (dolly this is where the “i want rafe cameron to make eras tour friendship bracelets with me” came from 🤭)
:・゚✧:・゚
rafe taglist (lmk if you want to be added!); @izabellaemerson @spiderflunk @kitty-m30w @vincapandora @uraesthete @wickedtactics @harmoneeee24 @starkeybae @fairydvstss @alexiskirkland @devils-blackrose @makaylalovessmut @winterrrnight @clearbolts @slayystuff @neilove @littlemissborntolose @emyslittlebubble @fclklqre @ldrsource @stargrltara @isabelllauer @zizuras @sadgirlelenora @djosfuture @leaskisses444
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zaczenemiji · 5 months ago
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Curtain Calls and Curveballs III
Kenji Sato x Actress!Reader
Synopsis: Your long-standing feud transformed into a legendary public dynamic where you navigate your high-profile careers, and confront your true feelings.
Word Count: 1,629
Genre/Warning: Confessions, Enemies to Lover, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn
Author’s Note: The last part aaaaaa im gonna miss this 🤧
PART ONE | PART TWO
MASTERLIST
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With every passing year, you were getting a step closer to your dream. The stage became a set and curtain calls became wrap parties. You no longer had rehearsals, you had takes.
There’s no audience, there’s cameras instead. Your live performances were now edited ones, and changing costumes didn’t have to be done so quickly anymore.
Projected voices and exaggerated gestures were no longer your thing. You were now more subtle—nuanced. Micro-expressions and quieter dialogues became your new thing.
These are the many changes you went through to become who you are today, the It Girl of Hollywood. You were known for your sharp wit and an even sharper tongue; thanks to the thorn on your side since high school.
Your rivalry with Kenji became the stuff of tabloid legend. Your public feud became a part of your brands. This time around, though, it was you who had the unerring knack for getting under his skin.
How the tables have turned, indeed. And Kenji looked forward to your verbal sparring matches even more so than before.
Whenever Kenji had a big game, you would inevitably tweet something snarky. And whenever you had a new movie release, he would make a point to mock you in interviews.
It was a dance you two perfected through the years; one that hid the truth neither was willing to admit. The world knows, oh they do. “The more you hate, the more you love,” as they said.
Your one-of-a-kind relationship with Kenji is all over social media, with fans and fellow celebrities alike piqued by your long-standing rivalry of sorts.
“Okay, (y/n),” your manager said. "I need to brief you on something before we get to the studio."
The two of you are headed to an interview with your one and only enemy, Kenji Sato. The limo you were on glided smoothly through the bustling streets of LA.
"What is it this time?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Another last-minute change?"
"Not exactly," she answered. "There's been a lot of buzz on social media about you and Kenji."
“Buzz?” your eyes widened. "What kind of buzz?”
"Well, let's just say the world is very interested in your... dynamic," she replied, smirking.
You took your phone out and started scrolling through tweets, heart racing as you read the comments from various celebrities.
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You couldn't help but smile at the comments, a mix of embarrassment and amusement swirling inside you. "Wow, they really think we're... in love?"
It seems like the world ships you two. You can’t blame them. Sometimes you wonder if you’re giving too much away that they’re starting to notice.
But everyone knew already. They have done so since high school. The only ones who didn’t know, or rather, didn’t admit, were you and Kenji.
You were a study-first type of girl when you were a student. And now, you’re a career woman who loves her job. Somehow, there is currently no spot in your life for dating.
Your agency tried, they really did. They tried putting you in a love team with other actors but for every interaction with Kenji, the fans seemed to love it more.
But no matter how you deny it—to others and to yourself—there is something that you refuse to face, a repressed admiration blanketed by faux hate.
Meanwhile, in the studio, bright lights were beaming down on Kenji as he adjusted his jacket. He’s tossing a baseball form hand-to-hand as he waits for you.
In a short while, the door swung open. You walked in with the grace of a seasoned actress, smile dazzling and eyes sharp. You made your way to the stage, commanding attention.
Kenji’s smirk widened as you approached. You looked elegant and sophisticated in the chic dress that you wore. You always did. You were always so beautiful and smart, and all so dense.
“Kenji!” you said with a mock sweetness. “I didn’t know they let amateurs in the show.” You sat down on the couch next to him.
Kenji leaned back in his chair, still tossing the ball. “Well, they needed someone to balance out your overacting,” he replied.
The host, catching the vibe, jumped in with a chuckle, "Welcome, both of you. The dynamic duo, or should I say the dynamic rivals. How are you feeling today?"
Kenji shrugged, his eyes never leaving you. "Feeling great,” he answered. “Especially now that I know (y/n) here is going to try and one-up me."
You crossed your legs and leaned back, matching his intensity. "Oh, Kenji, it's not about one-upping,” you said. “It's about showing the world who truly deserves the spotlight."
The host laughed, clearly enjoying the energy between them, "Well, let's dive right into it. You two have a practically legendary history. Care to share how it all started?"
Kenji glanced at you, his expression playful. "It's simple,” he answered. “(Y/n) has always had a talent for annoying me."
You rolled her eyes, "And Kenji has always had a talent for being easily annoyed."
The host leaned forward, sensing an opportunity. "But there's got to be more to it than that,” he said. “You both always seem to have this... chemistry."
Kenji smirked, leaning closer to you, "Chemistry that explodes, you mean."
You shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Yeah, the kind that blows up in your face."
The host laughed, clapping his hands together. "So, Kenji," the host said. "You’ve got a big game coming up. How do you feel about (y/n) always commenting on your games?"
Kenji chuckled, glancing at you. “Honestly?” He replied. “ I look forward to it. Keeps me on my toes."
You smiled, a genuine one this time. "And I watch every game,” you said. “Gotta make sure l have enough material to roast you."
The host raised an eyebrow, "Sounds like you two are more invested in each other than you let on."
He then turned to you. "What about you?” He asked. “How do you feel about Kenji's constant critiques of your acting?"
"I think he's secretly a fan,” you laughed. “Why else would he watch all my movies?"
Kenji leaned closer, his voice low, "Maybe I am. Or maybe I just like seeing you try so hard."
“You wish,” you met his gaze, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Please, Kenji, you couldn't handle me if you tried."
Kenji leaned ever closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Is that a challenge, (l/n)?"
“Maybe it is,” you met his gaze, heart skipping a beat. "Do you think I do not know about the flowers being delivered to my set—where they come from?”
Kenji was silenced, blush creeping on his cheeks. “Like, come on, Kenji,” you continued. “Flowers, seriously? For who knows since when—just ask me out already!”
The people in the studio gasped at the revelation. Everyone else was on the edge of their seats.
You weren’t dumb to not know where those flowers came from. It started with the very first movie you filmed and it continues until now with the latest one that has just been released.
“If you knew, then why didn’t you say anyt—“ Kenji was cut off by you, “Because I was waiting for you!”
The tension in the air seemed palpable. No one said anything, no one made a move.
“You were too busy chasing a ball! And you were so happy with it, I didn’t want to interfere!” you continued.
“Yeah, well!” Kenji said, thinking of a good comeback. “You were always paired up with another man, I didn’t wanna ruin your love team!”
“Then I’m glad none of them ever worked!”
“Thank heavens! Dinner, later at 7PM, Michelin-starred restaurant, your pick!”
“Fine!”
At that moment, everyone in the room burst into squeals. The floor beneath you shook with the intensity of people jumping up and down at the same time. Even the host stood and did a victory dance in front of the camera.
It felt as if the world rejoiced in unity. This was a memorable day for all the fans that were watching live.
The celebration of each person in the room had blurred as you and Kenji stared at each other. “Took you long enough,” you said softly. Kenji chuckled, “You weren’t so dense, after all.”
Without hesitation, you leaned close and threw your arms over his shoulder, hugging him. He hugged back, tighter, for he was also waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity.
The screaming in the background loudened at your interaction but none of you paid mind. To you, Kenji’s hug felt warm and comfy and oh-so lovely.
The years, no matter how long it has been, were all worth it for this moment. If there was anyone who knew you best, it was Kenji. The same goes for him.
Your phone, in your manager’s care, beeped with so many notifications. Checking your account on her tablet, she was greeted by over a hundred thousand tweets in just a few minutes.
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That night, the two of you didn’t go out for dinner as said on TV. Instead, you treated your team to the dinner at the Michelin-starred restaurant you picked while you, with Kenji, stayed at home.
You found yourselves dancing together in the comfort of your living room. The air was filled with a soft melody, and as you swayed to the music. Kenji realized how natural it felt to have you in his arms.
"You know," he murmured, "I never imagined we'd be here." You remembered high school, the graduation ball, your first dance with each other.
“I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” you said, head on his chest.
“Wow you’re even dense with yourself,” he chuckled.
“Shut up,” you replied. “And you’ve always been a dork.”
Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots
@hismistresss @sweetangle8 @aerivina
@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist @brazilsho @arrozyfrijoles23 @finestflora @mmeerraa @mianbaobaoo @themourningfox
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trulyhblue · 6 months ago
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STARGIRL
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Georgia Stanway x Reader
Warnings — smut 18+, buildup, mean! Boyfriend! Kind of toxic! Georgia, dom/sub dynamics, drinking, partying, jealousy, strap, millie bright hate but not hate but pls I love you millie bright so flirt with me x, kind of dumb reader but like she actually doesn't know, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink.
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Your dress had hitched to an unethical height, but the state of your tipsiness provoked a desolated ignorance accompanied by the thunderous beat of the club. Grace was behind you, swaying her hips with yours, the two of you celebrating your most recent win with the Lionesses.
The room was crowded with dancing bodies, mashed together with the concoction of sweat, alcohol, and oblivion. You had seen Less, Ella and Niamh nearby only a while ago, and an ample group of your teammates were sitting in the back corner surrounded by a booth, projecting their triumph in the form of the burn down their throats, the drinks they nursed holding to a product of victory.
“Ugh, I'm so sweaty,” Grace whined, loud enough in order to be heard over the booming rave. “I need a drink.”
“Same, let's go.” You nodded, feeling the girl’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to her figure as the crowd collapsed further into your figure.
The two of you sauntered through the crowd, giggling at the mob of people struggling to find enough space to properly function. Your cheeks were stained a vibrant pink from the flush of adrenaline. Grace was humming along to the tune in your ear, her arms still holding onto you tightly so that you wouldn't lose each other.
It wasn't often that the team went out for drinks, especially not the likes of such a mix of the different friend groups. Lucy and Keira weren't set to go back to Spain for another three days, and most of the girls would seek refuge in the comfort of their own beds tonight, as the match held in Wembley sought itself in the midst of the WSL.
Georgia and you were set to leave for Munich two days from now after spending the last two weeks preparing and playing for your national team here in England. While Gee had transferred from City a while ago, you had only just moved to Bayern from Chelsea, where someone like Grace had become your closest friend in the WSL. As one of the younger players on the team, you wanted to make sure the debutant felt welcome and comfortable in the senior squad, despite her training with the team long before her match debut.
Over the last couple of months, you had been working really hard in order to aid your club to victory, but after the nasty blow in the Champions League, and some defeats sprinkled here and there throughout the season, this night was long awaited.
Once Grace and you had finally woven your way through, you were quick to find refuge on Georgia’s lap, leaving Grace to sit on the opposite side of the booth next to Mary. Gee found her hands secured on your waist, ignoring the way your hips wiggled in her lap.
“Having fun, are we?” She asked, watching as you hummed in reply, taking it upon yourself to take a sip of her drink. You failed to notice your girlfriend's fimble hands tugging down the fabric of your skirt, hiding the notion by massaging your thighs and kissing your exposed shoulder.
The enriching taste of lemonade made you turn to straddle her, holding the drink up to her lips while the straw was still lingering close to yours.
“You’re not drinking?”
“I’m driving us back, baby.” Gee shook her head. “Do you want me to get you another drink?”
You thought to yourself before slowly reaching down to where your girlfriend’s collar met her throat, toying with the cloth in your hands before pressing your lips to her pulse point, letting her take the drink, placing it back on the table as you ran your tongue along the column of her throat.
“Y/N, baby.” You heard Gee mutter. You lifted your hips off her lap, combing your hair out of your face as you counted to speckled freckles on Georgia’s cheeks. She took out her wallet, handing you her card. “Do you ‘wanna go buy yourself something? The girls and I were ‘gonna go play pool over there if you want to meet us there.”
“Do you want anything?” Shaking her head in reply, keeping a prolonged stare down the trajectory of your low-cut top. You tugged at the bottom of her shirt, letting your hands roam freely across the waistband of her trousers. Rocking your hips, you found Grace already standing behind you, grabbing your hands and leading you over to the bar.
It wasn't unusual for Georgia to brush off your public affection like that, especially when you were obviously tipsy, and the lingering eyes of your friends were all at your disposal. If you had kissed her in a secluded corner of this club, she would've taken you up against the nearest wall as fast as she could. She had been eyeing that dress — or moreso the skin it was hardly concealing — and wanting so desperately to take you home and show you how much she loved you.
The games against Sweden and Italy were both masterclasses on your behalf, and Georgia was merely waiting for the right time to reward you for scoring in both of them.
“You need to get a room.” Grace teased, her eyes peering back to where Georgia shamelessly looked at your arse. “No wonder the fans found out so quickly.”
You turned to face the younger girl, a smirk adorned on your face. “Two months was a struggle in itself.”
Gee and you had tried to keep your relationship well out of the media. But after your move to Munich, and a few too many proper English celebrations, the media had caught on to your affection and adoration for each other far too quickly than what you had hoped. Nevertheless, both of you sprinkled your private lives into your Instagram every once and a while. Save some photos of you that Georgia was not willing to share with the world.
“No, I know.” She replied, pivoting through the crowd. “But it's cute. Traumatic for me… But cute.”
You used Georgia’s card to buy yourself and her two lemonades and Grace a drink of her own. Grace’s regard for your relationship was an unusual sentiment because while you strived to hold your private life out of the fame and publicity of football, there was an inevitable spark between the two of you that fans caught onto long before you ever thought of Georgia in the way you do now.
Despite what is displayed, you were two very reserved people, with Georgia being the more talkative of the two of you when it came to interviews. You loved your social life — your friends both at home and away. However, there were many differences that distinguished a shift in personas.
You liked to push the boundaries. If you could test your luck, it was impossible to tempt you otherwise. Georgia liked routine. You didn't mind testing the waters and going with the flow. Life was more enjoyable that way.
At least for you.
Georgia had watched you make your way to the bar, hoping you’d return with something a lot less strong than what you had been downing previously. Grace was hung by your side, the younger woman holding onto your arm with giggles leaving her lips. Gee waited for you to inch down your skirt before following Mary and the others over to where Leah was lining up for a game of pool.
“Any reason you're easing off the drinks tonight, Stanway?”
Millie was lingering by the group, nursing her own drink while Rach and Lucy talked beside her. Georgia shrugged, moving her hands to her pockets as she watched Leah take the first shot against Keira.
“I'm driving home.”
Millie snorted. “Will you make it home?”
If Gee was drinking, she would've choked. “What?”
“Well, you were pretty much eating each other’s faces off just before. Figured you couldn't wait.”
Georgia shrugged again. She wasn't too keen on the conversation, especially when the topic didn't deem either you or her in the highest regard. Everyone knew that Georgia wasn't into that type of PDA, but it was also noted that given the right reasons, she’d be worse than you.
“You’re a lucky one, Gee.” The Chelsea Defender clapped the Midfielder on the back, downing the rest of her drink. “Enjoy your night.”
Millie left Georgia to stand a few feet away from the rest of the group — leaving her to mull over her teammate’s words. For some reason, she couldn't shake Millie’s comments off. What did she mean — enjoy your night? What was she implying? Of course, she was going to enjoy her night with her girlfriend. Of course Gee was lucky, but why was Millie saying that? Normally, these comments were used as a compliment, and with Millie’s best intentions, everyone knew she was only pure. But when Georgia saw the way the Chelsea player flung her arm over your shoulder upon your return, talking down at you amid the booming music, something in Georgia flicked.
Everyone had gotten progressively more drunk as the night went on, but you were fully immersed in the way everyone was interacting, holding your own conversation with Millie, who was going on about some football thing happening at Chelsea.
Leah was swearing at Keira, who was cheekily laughing away at the ratio of her balls to Leah’s left in the game. You had left Georgia’s drink in front of you, and you continued to keep it by your side as you watched the bickering between Lee and Keira transpire.
“You're a right cheat, Walsh, go home.” Williamson quipped, shoving Keira playfully by the shoulder. The Barcelona player poked out her tongue, jabbing the Arsenal protege's side. “Oh, cry me a river, Leah. You're just a sore losers who’s downright shit.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Oh, piss off.”
“You first.”
“Right give someone else a go!” Lucy called, her accent slightly rasped and slurred. She scanned the room, looking straight across to where you and Millie stood. “Go on, you two. Show ‘em how to play normally.”
You felt yourself sober up a little from the attention of everyone’s stares. You felt your ears go a bit red, shaking your head by the time Millie had already picked up her cue.
“I'm no good at it.” You spoke.
Georgia watched you saunter over to the side of the table, using your arms to lean, stabilising your ditzy figure. She could tell by the blush across your face that you had sobered up significantly, but she knew that the alcohol still held a prominent hold over you.
“It’ll be an easy win for me then, gorgeous.” Millie taunted, readying herself for the first shot. You shook your head, caving by grabbing the spare cue Keira was holding, all while Georgia looked on with her hands fisted in her pockets.
She wasn't usually the type to get like this. Georgia and you held great independence in your respective lives. Both of you enjoyed letting the other do stuff without the prodding of the other. You trusted each other too much to breach any boundaries, but if there was one thing Georgia had trouble keeping to herself, it was her jealousy.
Millie took the first hit, causing the object balls to cascade across the green fabric. Leah was standing behind you, muttering something into your ear. You stood there with your figure half leaning against her, the other half fidgeting with the cue.
“Wait, so, I don't remember-”
“Well, don't be asking Leah for advice,” Keira’s teasing voice came from nearby. “She’ll just tell you how to lose.”
Leah looked utterly exasperated, glaring at her best friend with annoyance plastered across her face. “Oh, give it up, Walsh, will you?”
“Alright, Milton Keynes, it's okay to admit defeat, y’know.”
The England Captain marched over to a laughing Keira, punching the girl’s shoulder. Everyone watched in amusement when Keira retaliated, using her arms to poke Leah in the ribs.
You were left fiddling with the stick, laughing along at the sight in front of you while internally pondering. You had never properly played pool before — obviously with friends, of course, but never taking it as far as playing by the rules. You had no idea what strategy to use, or what ball you were meant to hit. It wasn't like anyone cared, but the perfectionist in you just couldn't wrap your head around it.
“Give it here.”
It wasn't until you felt familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you instantly closer to her hips. You let yourself fall limp against her, chewing on your bottom lip as you stared at the game you were clueless at.
“I don't know how to play.” You spoke, handing the cue to your girlfriend, who took the stick from you, moving her head down to your shoulder, letting her breath fan over your neck as she spoke.
“How ‘bout I show you then, hm? I’ll teach you.”
You sighed at the goosebumps running down your neck, nodding as Gee kept you in front of her, maneuvering the two of you in a way that made it possible for her to play while keeping your arse against her hips. You watched as Millie made the next move. Georgia waited for a moment, letting everything station before proceeding. With one arm circled around your waist, she bent over to make the next move. You felt her body press into yours, stuck between the table and her.
After her shot, she slotted back upright. She leant down once more, combing back the loose hairs that framed your face.
“How are you feeling, Baby?”
Her voice was deeper, more grounded by the time of night.
You couldn't help but look up at her, licking your lips as you nodded. “Good, why?”
Georgia held your hips, moving them so that they were glued to the table. “Just wondering, pretty girl.”
Her body loomed over yours, her arms sanctioned on either side of you as Millie thought through her next move. You tried to conceal your neediness, the feeling of Georgia’s body pressed against yours sending heat down your spine. “Gee.”
“What is it, baby?”
You struggled to focus, hoping Millie would hurry up so that Georgia would move away from her unrelenting pressure.
You managed to swallow your whine as her hand moved to fondle your thigh. “Nothing.”
It was soon Georgia’s turn, the game becoming more fluent as both sides successfully slotted in balls left and right. Though, as the game went on, you could feel your girlfriend grow more and more handsy. After every shot, she’d kiss the alcove of your neck, whispering a sweet nothing about how you looked, or the way you felt against her, that was borderline testing the innocence she often preserved out in public.
“Looking so good tonight, darling…”
“Can't believe you're all mine, babygirl…”
“So perfect for me, all to myself…”
In between turns, Georgia let you lean on her, loving the way you sighed at every ounce of affection she would give you, making sure it was obvious enough for Millie to catch on, while discrete enough for you to not feel like it was truly public for anyone to actually notice.
You nearly lost it when she slotted her hand in between your thighs and squeezed them while you kept a watchful eye on the game in front of you. Her body covered your back, hiding her obvious display of desire by letting you push your arse against her front.
“Feel so good, don't you?”
“Georgia, please.”
“You're doing so well, baby. Might have to reward you for being so good.”
You should've known that she would keep a straight face the whole time, refusing to give you the reaction you so desperately hungered for by the ache between your legs. You had tried everything as she massaged your shoulders, and whispered passive teasing that sent shivers down your neck. Despite your honest belief that Georgia was unfazed by your antics, she made it clear that your actions were heard when she dug her hands into your hips.
She had beaten Millie by an easy mile, though she did not bother to make any celebration, instead looking down at you, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you softly.
“Can we go, Gee?”
“Why, baby?” She asked, a knowing smirk plastered across her lips.
You whined for the first time that night, making sure Georgia heard it by lifting yourself up to her height. “Just want you right now.”
“Want me? But I'm right here.”
“Georgia, please. I need your help.”
That was enough for Georgia to bid everyone good night, sending farewells as quickly as she could while you tried to forget about the growing arousal in your core. By the time you had both gotten into the empty car park, your lips had started to attack hers. Georgia pretty much coerced you into the car, moving the driver's seat all the way back so that you could sit comfortably on her lap.
She shut the door promptly, knowing that her tinted windows were enough to hide the way her hands played with your arse, your clit immediately rubbing against her hips.
You started tugging off your shirt, leaving your breasts on full display. Georgia couldn't even register the sight before you grabbed one of her hands, pulling it towards your nipple, groaning at the way she pinched it.
“Where is your phone?” You uttered, moving your chest closer to Georgia so that your tits were pretty much in her face. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, moaning when you moved your breasts around her face, making them bounce erratically with the lack of bra you had worn. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket, handing it to you without a second thought. You didn't waste any time in pushing back, opening the device before swiping to the camera, hastily pressing play on the video, and moving the phone so that it showed your tits in Georgia’s mouth on full display.
“You’re such a good girl for me.” She groaned. “So thoughtful, aren't you? Gonna watch this when you're not with me. Need to see these tits every day, don't I? Gonna watch you every day.”
“Need you to fuck me, baby. Need your cum in me so bad.”
You grabbed the top button on her shirt, moaning out when Georgia grabbed both of your tits, sitting upright and playing with both of them with her mouth and hands. Her cold rings pressed into the delicate skin of you nipples, the distant pain of her pinches making you squirm irresistibly in her lap. Your skirt had ridden up to your hips, where your g-string went exposed to the camera’s lense.
You moved across to the console, using your spare hand that wasn't tugging Georgia’s hair to find a hair elastic, though you graw impatient when Gee stopped kissing your breasts for you neck. Instead, she found the all-too-familiar toy hidden neatly underneath the lube you definitely wouldn't need, and you moaned as your hand squeezed around the strap that you pulled out once Georgia pinched your nipple once more.
“Haven't used this one before.” Your girlfriend whispered, nibbling dark, callous marks across your neck. “Bit too big for your small little hole, darling. It can't fit, can't it?”
“Try it, please.” You muttered, unbuttoning the woman’s pants and letting them fall to the floor. You buckled the harness around her waist to the best of your ability, giving up when Georgia took over, letting you discard the short, flimsy fabric of your skirt. “Make it fit.”
“You're so desperate for my cum, aren't you darling?” She rutted, fastening the harness so the strap only just missed your folds. “Want me to fill you up with kids so bad, don't you? Want me to make you full and pregnant, yeah?”
You moaned. “Want to have your babies inside of me. Fill me up, please. So bad, baby. Need your help cause it aches.”
Georgia bunched your hair up into a makeshift pony, pushing you down so that your mouth hovered over the strap. Your arse in the air, your tits kneaded by your own hands. Georgia moaned at the sight of you so desperate, the notion of the camera recording making it all the more sporadic.
You wasted no time licking the dick, holding the base of the silicone toy with one hand, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked the tip and first quarter of the strap in your mouth. Gee pulled your hair, letting you move up and down on her dick. The vibrations of your gagging mixed with moans made her sigh at her newfound, growing release.
“Fuck, keep going, Y/N.” She groaned. “Just like that.”
You continued until tears pricked your eyes. You could tell by the way Georgia’s grip on your scalp tightened and your tongue flicked along the tip, your cheeks hollowing and allowing more of the strap to fill your throat. It didn't take long until Georgia’s breathing had staggered. Short, uneven breaths mixed with erratic sweet nothings. You pushed yourself down her dick one last time, feeling Gee’s body collapse from all tension as her orgasm washed over her. You pulled yourself up, wiping the spit and cum off your face with your fingers, prodding them towards your mouth. Georgia watched you lick them clean, rolling your head back at the taste alongside the subtle pang of your throat.
The car windows were not only tinted but misted due to the humidity inside the vehicle. Your hips shadowed the strap, Georgia falling back into the rhythm of toying with your hips, kneading them as she kissed your neck.
You could feel the ache between your legs grow at the sight of your girlfriend beneath you, maneuvering you to where she wanted you most, giving you incredible amounts of pleasure at your disposal. You were starting to moan at the simplest of movements like the way she gripped your hips, or the way she licked over the bruises down your neck and chest. The last piece of clothing you had on was your underwear, Georgia now discarding her shirt so that you were both in states of nudity. Sweat beaded from your forehead.
Your legs started shaking from the mere want for the woman below you. It didn't take you long for your desire to take over as you grabbed one of Gee’s hands, slipping it down your stomach and along the fabric of your underwear. You painstakingly pushed her hand underneath, letting her move her fingers up and down your folds. The slick covered them instantly, and she rolled her head back when you began to rock on her hand.
“Do you feel how wet I am, baby?” You asked, Georgia nodded. She watched you bounce up and down, grateful at the way Gee pushed one of her fingers into you, letting you ride it in short pulsates. You whimpered when she entered her second finger, crying out when she entered her third. Georgia took one of your breasts in her mouth, groaning as you bobbed up and down. You felt your pussy clench around her, your arousal coating her fingers each time you pushed deeper into your strategic strokes. Georgia continued to hold one of your hips, helping your shaking legs hold yourself up as you neared your climax.
“Fuck, you're such a slut, aren't you?” Georgia uttered, her fourth finger nudging your clit as you sunk in once more. You rocked yourself back and forth now, relishing the way your nub ran itself over her hand, the coil in your core tightening as your climax neared.
“Grinding on me at the pool table cause you're so needy for me… everyone could tell that you just wanted me inside you. You made sure to show everyone who you belonged to.”
You were a blabbering mess. Your stokes became sloppy, your legs non-stop shaking as your body tensed at the pleasure running through you. Georgia curled her fingers inside of you, assaulting your clit as you struggled to keep your pace. There was no way you could reply as all your thoughts were focused on the sounds of your juices being leaked out from your hole, Georgia’s fingers forcing them in and out as she spoke to you in rasps. Your noises became pornographic, and you no longer cared about the thought of someone hearing you.
“Need me to do everything for you. I didn't even need to fuck you dumb. All I need to do is bend you over.”
You could finally feel your orgasm washing over you when Georgia pulled her fingers out, laughing at your instant cry out.
“Aw, baby.” She muttered, wiping your sweaty flyaways out of your face, tears fell from your eyes, your cheeks reddening as you fell onto her lap, your legs no longer able to hold you up. You looked down at your girlfriend, finding no remorse on her smug face.
“Why didn't you cum, pretty girl?” She tutted, pulling your body up from her chest so it was exposed to her view. You shook your head, fully dumbfounded at her actions. It wasn't like you had done anything wrong.
“I— Gee— I’ve been good.”
You sounded pathetic. Normally, if you had been a brat, you’d have said that as a joke to put on an innocent facade and get the sex you had desperately craved. You would pretend to be nice and suck her dick or eat her out just because you had done something to provoke it. There were countless times when Gee had edged you for doing something provocative, but tonight you had no idea why she had done it.
“Really, baby? You think so?” You looked at her with the saddest eyes you could muster. “You sure you've been good all night?”
In terms of your sex life, you had your fair share of dominant and submissive moments, but with Georgia, you found yourself subbing out to new extremes. Your girlfriend would do anything for you, on and off the pitch. You could act dumb and she’d fuck it out of you. You would fall over on the pitch, cry out even if it was a fair play, and Georgia would be the one receiving the yellow for defending you. When you were at a bar, or anywhere for the matter, and felt someone look at you in even the slightest wrong way, Gee would hold you in front of her and make sure you were always safe in her arms.
But Georgia could be mean, even if you hadn't necessarily done anything to make her mean. She usually got like this when you had hugged someone for too long, or made a joke about yourself that she thought was too far.
That made it all click.
“Are you jealous?”
Georgia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You can't flirt with Bright then bend over for me two minutes later.”
She grabbed your waist and lifted you, switching positions so that you were lying in the driver’s seat and she was hovering above you.
“I wasn't flirting. I was talking.” You moaned at the contact of the strap’s tip brushing against your folds, moving up and down as Georgia’s hands massaged your arse.
“She called you gorgeous, you know.” You felt her breath fan over your face, her lips ghosting down your neck. “Said I should enjoy my night with you.”
“She did?” It was probably not the right way to phrase that response, but it didn't seem to phase Georgia anyway. “We were just talking, Geor-”
“I bet she wouldn't fuck you as good.” Georgia spat, using one hand to circle your clit. You threw your head back, moaning at the small discomfort from your prior denied orgasm, writhing at the sudden pressure on your sensitive nub. “If I showed her all the videos of you screaming my name I doubt she’d try that shit again.”
“Georgia…”
“What videos would I show her, hm?” Georgia started dragging one of her fingers into your pussy, beginning with slow, painful strokes that squelched with the sound of your juices. “Maybe she’d like the mirror one. Y’know, when we won against Wolfsburg and I fucked you in the bathroom?”
“Fuck, please Gee.”
“You were so hot in that one… bent over like the slut you are… came three times for your three goals.” She added the second finger in now, speeding up just a smidge all while kissing over your chest. “Do you think she’d like if I sent that one?”
You moaned at the third finger, tears pricking your eyes as Georgia entered your pussy hard and fast, enjoying your pleas and begs through mindless mumbles. You were so far gone that everything she was saying was only making you closer. The sound of her voice was enough to help you closer to release.
“Or maybe I should send the one after your first game with Munich.” She snarled, admiring the darkened marks on your neck. “Do you remember who we played against that game?”
Of course you did, you thought. The game has been one you were stressing over for weeks in advance. You and Georgia had only just moved in together, and there was significant pressure on you to succeed and prove to everyone that you could perform under intimidation.
“Chelsea.”
“Good girl, baby, that's right.” She cooed. “Scored in the first fifteen minutes, and I had to reward my Stargirl for that. That's what they all used to call you, didn't they? She called you Stargirl back then, now it's me who says it, isn't it?”
That was enough to push you closer to the edge. You gripped hard onto her shoulders, crying out as you felt your climax rush over you.
“How bout I send both those videos… show her who I enjoy my night with. Fucking you for being mine.”
“I— I'm yours, Gee. Fuck, please, I'm-”
The release left you reeling. You felt your orgasm leak out all over Georgia’s hand, your head falling against the headrest as you rode out your high with her consistent deep strokes in and out of your pussy. You didn't care about the mess you were making, nor the inflammatory noises you had been making as soon as you felt Georgia touch you. Your body shook from the much-needed release, and by the time you had somewhat caught your breath, the familiar pressure on your nub resurfaced.
You cried out, whining when the silicone dick entered your folds. Georgia looked down at you, kissing you passionately to silence your post-orgasm conscious. She made sure that you didn't push her away before moving the tip of the strap into your hole, smirking when you stretched open for her like you had been calling for it to be filled.
“Gee, its too big, I can't.” You whined, squirming as your hair stuck to your skin. Your girlfriend held your hips down, lowering herself down to where your pussy clenched around the toy as it moved.
“You’ll take it.” She growled. “You said it before. If you can suck me off I can fuck you with it.”
She kept an even pace as her hips finally reached yours, the strap filling your pussy with your slick. Your eyes were firmly clasped shut, your whines filling the car as the aching pain slowly turned into lust. Georgia waited for you to start rocking on it gently. The way you rode her dick so desperately turned her on to extreme lengths. She was somewhat surprised that you could take the length as well as you were, and when your hips met hers, and she felt the toy being bounced on, she realised that she had been still for a few minutes. She wanted to feel bad, but she knew that teasing was good for your ego.
“Gee, can you move?”
Georgia caught sight of the camera, the video still recording the vulgar sight. She groaned at the sight of your shaking legs, and the way you could go longer see the strap that was filled in between your legs. The camera showed the way your tits bounced so perkily every time you tried to gain friction. Your body was enclosed by Georgia’s arms, her thighs overlapping yours, her muscles on full display. Sweat beaded off both of you, moans cascading from your puffy red lips.
With one hand holding her up, she grabbed her phone that was sitting by the console. Her sudden movement sent shockwaves through you, causing you to scream out when the strap pushed into you impossibly closer. Georgia positioned the phone so that it was leaning on the seat, right where the strap was. When she knew that the angle caught all of your body, she lifted her lips slowly before pounding into you.
Your cries were music to her ears, and she thought it sinful to cover them with her hand in fear of being heard. If anything, people would be blessed with the sound, for she thought if heavenly. Your sounds mixed with her groans mixed with your slick against the strap. If any other size, Georgia would move even faster, but her pace was already hard, and you struggled to keep up as your pussy clenched around her.
“So gorgeous.” She uttered, feeling you near your climax for the third time that night. “Such a good girl for taking it.”
“Fuck, Georgia-”
“Gonna fill you up so that you get pregnant, baby. You tell me when and I’ll fill that beautiful body with a baby of our own. Fuck, you’d look so hot with our baby.”
You couldn't even begin to speak, your moans now babble, your speech completely incoherent. Georgia could feel her own release overcoming her, but she waited knowing that you were only seconds away.
“My pretty girl.”
You cried out her name for the last time, your cum coating her cock as she rode out both your high with sloppy deep strokes. You were in a state of pure bliss that you didn't even have the energy to push her off your overstimulated clit. Though, from all the times before, Georgia knew you would be sore, and after keeping still and waiting for both of you to even your breathing, she began to pull out.
You winced, waiting for Georgia to discard the toy and hakt the video before pulling her body into yours.
“I love you, Gee. No one else, baby.”
“I know, my pretty girl. I was only joking.”
You couldn't help but laugh, finding that statement ludicrous. “Yeah, alright, Stanway.”
“Okay, touche.” She replied smugly.
Maybe Millie was right — Georgia couldn't wait till she got home. And she did enjoy her fucking night.
_______________________
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3d-wifey · 1 year ago
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I've read that Johnny NSFW alphabet like 30 times, it was so gooddddd, there's been no good Johnny Cage smut or writing in general honestly. Your Johnny just feels so in character and you're feeding me crumbs, I need moreeee 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (that sneak peek made me levitate)
Show 'em Who I Belong To
Pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader Synopsis: Johnny has seriously pissed you off this time, like, royally. The "begging on his knees" kind of pissed off. But luckily, he knows just the thing to do to prove he’s sorry. Word Count: 2.58k Playlist: Here's a Johnny Cage playlist to read his smut or just get inspo from, I made it myself TW: Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, switch!Reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!Reader, Forgiveness, Making Up, Apology Sex, Vaginal Penetration, Recording, Sex Tapes, Exhibitionism, Begging, Hand Jobs, Grinding, Crying During Sex, johnny cage loves you, johnny cage is just really really dumb, celebrity!reader, No Spoilers, Making Out, "straight" couple, johnny's slutty little slacks, Johnny cage is a little shit, Pussy drunk, cock drunk, Praise Kink, simp johnny cage, no other canon characters show up in this, Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut A/N: Since the poll I put on Tumblr voted for switch!Johnny, that's what I'm doing! This chapter will mostly be sub!johnny and dom!reader with a switch at the end. It's a bit of a mixed pov, but it's mainly from the reader's pov. Nothing but Dom!Johnny in the next chapter and sorry if the quality was lacking, I've slept a total of 10 hours in a span of 72 hours. CHECK OUT THAT JOHNNY NSFW ALPHABET I WROTE, IT'S CONSIDERED CANON TO THIS! Part 2 (tbm) Ao3
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Your acrylics tap a beat onto the arm of the plush white couch as you read the tweet on your phone.
" Johnny Cage spotted cozying up on set with Co-Star. Has the star finally met his match? " Your nails stop and you glance at where Johnny kneels fidgeting on the floor in front of you before looking back to the screen.
He spreads his hands. "Okay, I know this looks bad." His voice floats in the otherwise quiet mansion. "But will you please stop ignoring me?"
You look down your nose at him. "Is this enough attention for you?" You sneer and he grimaces.
"My PR team cooked this up a while ago and they've been hounding me about it for ages. It was so unimportant to me that it sorta...slipped my mind." He shrugs and your glare hardens him. " C'mon , babe, it's just a little publicity stunt our agents had us do for the movie. It doesn't mean anything." He laughs and his nonchalance about the situation is pissing you off more than you already are.
"Do I look like I'm laughing?" You fume and his brows furrow. "This isn't funny, Jonathan."
" Oof, " he winces, "government name."
You're both celebrities, you know what you signed up for when you agreed to date him after years and years of his begging and truly horrible pickup lines.
You're not mad about the situation itself, not really. You've gotten into drama before loads of times to drum up hype around a new project, but nothing like this. At least, not while you were dating Johnny. 
You're mad that you had to find out about it from the trending page on Twitter along with a slew of concerned messages from your friends, family, and manager.
You scroll down and read messages concerned fans have posted, worried that you and Johnny have broken up or, worse, that he cheated on you. But you know that he knows that you know he wouldn’t dare.
"Look at this shit." You shove your phone in his face. The screen reflects off the sunglasses that sit low on the bridge of his nose and he squints as the brightness nearly blinds him. "'I hope this isn't how she finds out.' 'I'd be so embarrassed if I was her.' 'I knew Johnny wouldn't stay faithful for long.'"
He looks from you to the screen and then back to you. "...You're mad."
You stare down at him.
"You are un- fucking -believable.” You move to stand up, but he grabs ahold of your hips.
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I'm sorry ! I didn't mean to upset you. Next time, I'll give you a heads up— I mean I'll run it by you.” Johnny corrects, pulling you closer when you try to pull away again. "What can I do to make it up to you, huh?" The muscles in his biceps flex against you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You try to stay firm, but it's pretty hard when he's pressing reverent kisses to your stomach.
You shiver from the coldness of his rings as he runs a big hand up your calf, traveling up your outer thigh to hook the hem of your dress at your hip before repeating the process up your other leg.
You want to stay mad—you are mad. This is incredibly careless and he didn't consider your feelings at all and...and you don't want him to think he can get out of trouble by kissing up to you. But, begrudgingly, you card your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.
"I'm still really upset about this, Johnny." You frown.
"I know, sweetheart. And I really am sorry. But, hey! I know something that'll make us both feel better." He grins up at you and you let him lead you back to the couch with a huff, dropping down once the back of your calves brush the white upholstery. 
“I’m sure you do.” You roll your eyes, spreading your legs to make room for him without thinking. “How would you —ahh !” You yelp at the sudden pinprick of pain on the skin of your inner thigh and it morphs into a moan when the pinch is quickly followed by a warm heat. You look down in time to see the pink of Johnny’s tongue as he licks over the tender spot—tender because he bit you like a damn dog!
“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I couldn’t really hear you over all those cute little noises.” You can feel the shit-eating grin against your skin as he talks. “You’re so sensitive. Definitely not a complaint—it does amazing things to my ego.” He laughs, hooking his hands under the back of your knees and pushing your legs up until the heels of your feet are balancing precariously on the edge of the seat.
He grips your hips, pulling you further down the couch and closer to his face. He moves your legs so your feet rest on his shoulders, the white polish of your toenails reflecting the light.
He leans in and you hold your breath in anticipation. You don’t want him to think he can just distract you and you’ll forget about being mad at him but—he leans in close to where the skirt of your sundress rucks up around your stomach, warm breath making you clench around nothing with each pant—but you like getting ate out almost as much as Johnny likes to do it.
You sigh as the warm, wet heat of his tongue drags across the damp seat of your panties. 
" Johnny. " You whine in frustration, fingers tightening in his sandy hair, as he pulls away as quickly as he came.
"Hold on, sweetheart. I think you're gonna like this." He grins, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. You pause as he unlocks it and presents it to you, camera on and recording you.
"What the hell are you doing?" You try to push as much disapproval into your voice as you can as you flip it from the front-facing camera to the rear one, but that’s an almost impossible task since he’s rubbing his nose up and down the crease of where your thigh meets your pussy. You end up sounding far more breathy than intended.
"What?” He grins into the camera. “You can watch this whenever you need a reminder of who I belong to." He says and if you weren't wet before, you definitely are now.
For as long as you’ve known him, Johnny has never been one to half-ass anything . It’s whole ass or nothing with him putting 110% into everything he’s faced with. However, when you first started dating, you hadn’t thought that would hold up when he had his head between your legs—yet another thing Johnny went out of his way to prove you wrong about.
The camera captures it the moment he pushes your panties to the side; he’s in his element.
There’s no preamble, no warning. Johnny dives in giving you no time to prepare for the shock of pleasure. You jerk away, but he holds onto your hips, hands becoming heavy weights you can’t lift. 
“You always taste so good for me, it’s insane.” He groans as your thighs try to squeeze his head, but he keeps them open easily. You sigh shakily at the casual show of strength. “I’d stay down here forever if you’d let me.” You bite your lip to muffle your soft moans, reminding yourself to steady the phone every few seconds, but forgetting to do so almost as soon as you do. But you can’t be blamed when Johnny gives head like he’s training for the Olympics; trying to break his previous record each attempt. You’ve been eaten out by people other than Johnny—of course, you have. It’s a requirement—but none of your past lovers come anywhere close to this. Johnny blows them out of the water every time.
That would be fine if you didn’t factor in his ego. Which would also be fine…any other day. But today, after the shit he pulled, you aren’t in the mood. This is supposed to be his way of apologizing, after all. So before he can get any ideas, you blink past the haze he’s put you in and grab the back of his neck. His back stiffens. He glances up at you and the shift is so swift that you doubt the camera even picked it up. His shoulders relax, almost limp against you, wide eyes going lidded as his grip on you softens.
“I know you can be louder than that, Johnny. I, hah , wanna hear how sorry you are. You are sorry, right?” You narrow your eyes.
His words are muffled since he refuses to take his mouth off of you, but you’re able to make out ‘yes’ and ‘princess’ which is good enough for you. Through the camera, you manage to get his pleading eyes and his hand unabashedly palming his bulge in the same frame and you smile around a moan.
"Are you hard, Johnny?" He doesn't hesitate to nod enthusiastically, and you feel yourself throb in his mouth. You're sure if your feet were on the ground he'd be grinding against your leg shamelessly. His body knows this too since his hips keep making aborted little thrusts, itching for relief from his tight gray slacks. "Heh, of course, you are. You can't help yourself, c–can you? Go on, then.”
He pauses, assessing you for a second to see if you’ll follow it up with anything else. You’re being surprisingly benevolent. He always has to work to earn your approval when you get like this, any pleasure he gets is dictated by you—not that he’s complaining—and that’s on the days when he hasn’t pissed you off. He honestly didn’t think he’d be cumming tonight, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 
He buries his tongue in you, licking from your pulsing hole to your throbbing clit as his hands work to unbuckle his belt and pull his dick out. He groans in relief once he’s free, squeezing the base of his dick so he doesn’t cum too quickly. You’re certainly not helping, shivering against him like a house in a storm and he moans in synch with you when you yank on his hair.
He freezes at the press of sharp nails at the nape of his neck. He shivers at the slight pinch of pain before leaning into it and you reward him with smoothing down the hair there. He stops the movement of his hands, but not his mouth.
“If you’re touching yourself, you’ll do it slowly or not at all. You wanna make it up to me, don’t you? Yeah ?” You hiss as he nods against you, mouth a tight suction on your clit. “Then you don’t cum until I do.” Normally he’s more bratty than this, making you fuck the submission out of him, but he must really be sorry because he does just as you say. He slows down as you instruct, his sharp brows furrowing as one of his hands grip the fat of your thigh. His other hand jerks him off haltingly like he actively has to remind himself to obey you. 
“You’re being so good for me, baby.” You gush, squirming in his hold. “ Mmh, s’fucking good.” You have to adjust your grip on his phone when he grunts at your praise, uncertain if you should jerk away or towards the vibrations. You run your nails over his scalp before yanking on his blond hair and he moans like a pornstar, hips thrusting into his hand. To the untrained eye—or ear—it seems like he’s playing it up for the camera, performing, but he’s always this loud. Especially when he’s got your pussy in his mouth.
It's almost embarrassing, the wet sounds of Johnny sloppily eating you out. Your moans mix with his and bounce around the mansion's walls with a filthy echo the longer this goes on. 
He stiffens his tongue and you know what he wants. You move your hand to the back of his head, gripping the soft strands to pull him forward. You thrust your hips with helpless, heady moans as you fuck his face. His heavy gaze burns through the camera to stare up at you with his tongue out. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk and he winks. You throw your head back, eyes closed with an obscene moan and he moves forward to press his nose against your clit, tongue flat as you move his head side to side.
“Johnny , mmh, ‘m gonna, f– fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” You cry and he moans into you in response. You glance down to see his foggy glasses riding low on his nose and he stares right back, brown eyes half open but full of lust. The apples of his flushed cheeks become accentuated, sharpening with his grin. The barest hint of teeth brush your clit before pressing against it and you jerk back with the strength of your orgasm. Your mouth falls open with a repeated whine of his name, legs shaking as you hold his head still.
“Damn.” He curses, pulling away when your muscles untense. He doesn't bother wiping his mouth, wearing your slick like a trophy as he smiles into the camera. “Should’ve got that on camera. It was a money shot.” You scoff, smiling despite yourself. You pull his glasses off and sit them on your head before you press stop on the camera and toss the phone on the couch beside you, pulling him to you by the open collar of his button-up. You kiss him deep, tasting yourself on his tongue with a groan. His hands go to your hips and you wrap your legs around his waist, licking into his mouth. 
“You played dirty.” You slide your hand down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you go. You grab his dick, still hard and leaking against his stomach. He laughs before whimpering into your mouth at your touch, rutting up into it. You swipe a thumb across his tip where precum drips down the underside of the head. "You're so wet, baby. This all for me?" You pull away to lick yourself off him, tongue dragging across the skin of his chin as you twist your wrist with every upward stroke. 
"Are you joking? O–of course. Can, shit , can you blame me?” He puffs into your neck, hot air warming your neck as you alternate between licking and kissing his jaw. His fingers spasm around your hips, and your hands fly to his shoulders when he pulls you forward until your ass is barely on the edge of the couch. Now he’s in the perfect position to—
You gasp as he ruts against you, still sensitive as his dick slides between your pussy lips. There’s no friction with how wet you both are and with every upwards thrust he bumps your twitching clit. 
“Wait, I’m— mmnh —Johnny, I’m sensitive.” 
“Ah, ah, sweetheart. You said I can cum when you do,” you jump when he nips at your neck, strong arms wrapping around your back holding you tight to him. “Besides, I’m not done apologizing.” You rock against him despite your complaining. The overwhelming feeling only increases when he bends over you to reach something, and it’s enough to distract you from the sound a phone makes when you press record.
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in3rci4 · 7 months ago
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maybe you could do TBP boys x GN reader who is always serious and calm and doesn't have the habit of smiling, smiling for the first time
Thank you for the request and for giving an idea too 😊🥹 ! I appreciate it , hope it's not too bad ❤️‍🩹
" And then they smiled , that's what i'm after . A smile on their eyes , the sound of their laugher"
The title comes from a small piece of the lyrics of the song " Drift away" from Steven Universe
Prompt : The Black Phone boys reaction at the reader who's always serious and calm , smile and laugh for the first time
Characters included: Vance Hopper , Bruce Yamada , Billy Showalter , Robin Arellano , Griffin Stagg , Finney Blake
WARNINGS !! : Character x reader content , no use of y/n , idk what else to say , Gn ! Reader , Reader might have some backstory I guess ¿? maybe a mix of Fluff and Angst ¿? Some gonna be shorter than others , spelling mistakes
Vance Hopper
You two knew each other for some time now , you were home schooled not so long ago so you didn't had an idea of Pin Ball Vance Hopper reputation . The moment the teacher assigned the both of you for a project , you weren't walking on eggshells like everybody else did with him while talking , you didn't expect anything from him , for you , Vance was just ... Vance . That's the exact reason why you befriend him in no time , your non judgmental personality , and you were completely unaware he wasn't like this with anyone , anyone but you . Even if your words were nice and honest he noticed how cautious you were with your movements and expressions , he thought it was weird at first , your voice didn't matched with the look in your face in his opinion , but Vance got used to it pretty quick , he's not a smiley guy either , he was ... A little more grumpy person than you . Just like usual , in the weekend you would stay by his side watching him play his Pin Ball game , and also making sure he didn't beat anyone if anything went wrong with it , but those are details . You got hungry and decided to buy Mrs Ellen a small snack bag , when you went back to the side of the machine ( not too close to possibly bump it though ) he started to get close to beating his high score . You gasped in excitement and then he heard the sound of the machine saving his new record on the top of it . Vance let go of the arcade game machine and started to shake you excited as well by your arms , you doing the exact same thing with the snack bag still in your hands
" You did it Vance , you finally beat your high score !"
You said with a smile while laughing of enjoyment
" See !? Told ya , told ya I would fucking beat that shit , didn't I !? "
You kept laughing and smiling from the happiness of had seen it happening after so long , so many failed tries were worth for this day to happen . Vance in the other hand stopped moving your body to stare at you instead .
You were smiling , smiling in a genuine , happy and .... He would say in a beautiful way too . Is this how you look like when you're happy ? The real you ?
Maybe he should try to get you to smile more often .
Confused about the sudden change of attitude you asked him with a small giggle
" Vance , are you ok ? "
Yes , he would be ok , as long as you are with him for a little longer like this .
Bruce Yamada
He was a popular and loved guy , he didn't had trouble hanging with almost everybody in school, and Bruce didn't have to do any effort in finding someone to date either . And yet , a particular classmate of his , you , was the one that had all his attention . A person that minded their own business and never had smile in front of anybody before , and still looks like a magazine model .
Bruce wanted to get close to you for years , but he never had the opportunity , ironically , he never had the courage to go straight at you and tell how good looking you are , you look so serious that you kinda scared him , but not enough to stop liking you .
The biology teacher didn't had a clue how happy he made Bruce the day he paired you and him in a project for the science , finally he could have his opportunity , his chance with you . Dying of anxiety inside like his first baseball game , he asked you
" Hey , I know we never talked before and stuff , but would you like to stop at my house tomorrow to speed up things ? For the project , you know ? Maybe we could go out somewhere in the weekend if everything goes well "
Looking into his eyes and with suspicion in yours you asked as well
" As a date ?"
He wasn't expecting you to be straightforward as well , so he fidget with his fingers a little and with a nervous yet bright smile he said
" Yeah , I mean , if you want to of course "
The recess bell rang and everybody stood up to be free again , you grabbed your book and walked towards the door , but before you leave you said looking at him
" it's a date then "
With a smile that could've killed Bruce if he didn't want to stay alive to see you tomorrow , God bless the biology teachers man .
Billy Showalter
His dog Harper was Billy's loyal companion , a very well behaved girl too , never biting things that she shouldn't , no barking unless there's danger or she's commanded to , not jumping into people in excitement , in general , a really good girl . The mornings delivering News Papers are much better with her by his side , at that hour people are still processing their awakening and there's little people on the street , but the ones that are outside never got a complain about her , in fact , they usually want to ask for permission to pet her instead . Lately someone that he seen outside at early morning was you , sometimes with groceries in your hand , sometimes only walking by yourself . You were one of Billy's classmate , but he doesn't talk with anybody in it , at least not anymore , and you were no exception . Sometimes he founds himself staring at you and then snapping out of it , trying to ignore whatever feeling he had to do such thing , but something about you , that mysterious unexpressive charm , the stern look in your eyes , is something that he can't quite describe with words and is afraid of digging for a definition in his mind . Unfortunately for this boy one of those mornings you decided to walk your rescued male dog and Harper for the first time ran away towards the dog to meet him , both with waggy happy tails sniffing each other . Billy stops his bike at a mailbox and runs towards her , to you
" Harper ! Harper ! I'm Sorry , she's never like that , I don't know what's up with her "
The female dog comes close to you waiting to be petted , and you were more than happy to give her what she wanted
" it's ok , she's a really good girl , she just wanted to meet the new handsome boy here "
Billy knew you were referring about your dog , but his stupid brain still made his cheeks burn from the blush , why's he's being like this ?
Harper licks your hand and you giggle from the tickle feeling in your palm , you smile , and he smiles too . More pleased about the morning you said
" You want me to walk with you while you deliver your papers ? Then we can both take the dogs for a walk "
Something more mysterious about you was how quickly you made Billy accepted the fact once for all about his crush about you , maybe the moment your face light up with your smile had enchanted him
" Yeah , I don't mind , Harper hasn't seen that many dogs around anyway "
Harper always helping him in the simple things , she's for sure getting a special treat today after you're gone .
Robin Arellano
He may not seem like that , but he's a person with a good memory and remembers a bunch of people even they don't remember him ( Difficult to say since almost everybody in school knows his name ) . He remembers you from elementary school , Robin thought you were the cute one of the class , although his classmates prefer to call you the " quiet " one . He noticed how you never changed , always focusing on your studies and never smiling , not even for the photos , not even for politeness , always keeping your expressions neutral and seriousness in your way of acting .
Life crossed your paths the day a bully that didn't find his victim who didn't showed up in school decided to go after you instead , poor choice of decision , because Robin did , he showed up , and beat him up .
After he was done , he walked on his way to the boy's bathroom , but you stopped him , and Robin was deep down afraid he messed up things instead of making them better between both of you
" Robin ! "
Trying to keep his cool when he hears your voice behind him , he turns around and responds
" yeah ?"
Without finding more words to describe your gratitude , you kept it simple and said with a gentle smile
" Thank you "
Yes ! He did impressed you ! It was all damn worth it !
" No problem "
Robin walked again feeling like the main character of an action movie , and you smiled at him too ? You ? The good looking and serious you ? Nah he ain't forgetting this day for nothing !
Finney Blake
This year he wasn't sitting alone on the back on the class , well , he was still on the back on the class , but he was sharing his desk this time , with you . Finney had to admit it was hella awkward , I mean , he can't complain that much since it could be worse or Finney himself is too much of a shy guy to start a conversation or keep it on with a stranger . You , his desk mate , never talked to him , not even once , and your cold serious personality didn't make things easier , the two of you introverts , teachers never had to complain about the noise that you guys could make in class . A regular day in math class the teacher talked about the possibility of numbers being negative and being under the 0 , this got the interest of the students because it was something relatively new so far .
Finney murmured to himself casually
" Damn , not even numbers can't stay positive "
It was a bad joke ? Yes , but it was so unexpected he stole a snort and giggle from you , you had to shut yourself up with your hand or else more laughing would be heard by the teacher .
In Finney's opinion it was a terrible one , he's not even that funny , he was surprised yet amused at your sudden change of expression . Maybe he could push his luck a little further ?
" I guess we can't be negative if we just started "
You stopped from escaping a laugh from your mouth once again , maybe Finney couldn't see your complete smile , but your half closed happy eyes got his ego fly over the roof .
They say " stay with the one that makes you laugh "
So don't worry , laugh all you want from now on , he's good at math anyway , he can always teach you if you got too distracted for him .
Not like Finney minds your company at all .
Griffin Stagg
The day he saw you smile after 2 years of watching you keeping your face as unexpressed as possible , was the day a older group of bullies bumped into him , and God , he was so fine with being invisible for other students and not dealing with being a punch bag , that he tried to run away as fast as he could before they could do anything . But stronger and experts on making kid's lives hell , they quickly grabbed his shirt and started to mock him and test him in front of everybody in the cafeteria . Griffin didn't say anything , he couldn't , or else it would be worse , he knows that like the back of his hand . 3 tall dudes , 1 grabbing his shirt , 2 grabbing each of the boy's arms , it seemed like everything was lost , but you pulled up the one in front of Griffin by the shirt and tucked him to the ground . The two boys left pushed Griffin to the ground as well , and went straight to attack you .
But you dodge all of them easily .
After giving the whole cafeteria a show to watch , the boys got up and swore that it wasn't over , but you couldn't care less . You walked towards Griffin and offered him your hand , he stays still without knowing what to say or do more than stare in confusion , until he spoke
" Thank you ... For helping me "
With a big bright smile that didn't fit someone like you , so serious and capable of defeating 3 guys , you responded
" It's nothing , now get up Griff "
Griff ? No one has called him like that before . But , it doesn't sound bad , right ? He kinda likes the nickname .
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sexy-monster-fucker · 1 day ago
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Santa, Baby
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Santa!Art the Clown x F!Reader SMUT
Summary: There’s a Christmas Party at the club the reader works at. After bumping into a strange man in the streets, she spreads the word of the party.
cw: isn’t art his own warning??, choking, fingering, mentions of blood, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, mentions of kidnapping, biting, violence, p in v, hair pulling, scratching, blood play, overstimulation, creampie,
a/n: imma be real with yall, if you can’t handle watching the Terrifier movies don’t read fanfiction about Art bc tagging all this stuff in the warning was CRAZY lmao
~~~
It was the Saturday before Christmas.
Some people were out shopping, other’s having festive dinner with their loved ones. And then there was you. Getting dressed up in a slutty, red Santa-dress. It sat high upon your thighs, if you even attempted to bend over your matching red lacy underwear would be on full display.
Hoping the outfit would get you better tips. Maybe even a cute guy for you to play around with. Twirling Round in the mirror before leaving your house.
The weather was nice, so you opted to walk. You did not live that far away from work, sometimes the car was easier. But you could not lie that the thought of you turning heads on the street sent a thrill through you.
As you walked down the street, you bumped into a pale man wearing a Santa outfit. Knocking his black trash bag out of his grasp. White wig, red hat and jumpsuit, and big black shoes. Noticing his crooked nose and clown-like face paint. Rather peculiar for this time of year. Almost a mix of Halloween and Christmas.
His mouth formed an ‘O’ when your eyes met. Brows quickly furrowing down at you.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” you quickly apologized. Leaning down to pick up the bag for him. Your breasts peaking through the top of your tight dress. His eyes found themselves looking down your dress. Unable to deny his mind wandering to a perverted place. Not usually the type to feel this type of thing for people. Only desire he had being to kill and be covered in their blood. But something about you made a different part of him crave you.
“I like your costume,” you complimented, “There’s this Christmas Party down at the club if you’re interested.” You dug in your purse for one of the flyers. Giving it to him. Silently examining the pamphlet, his brows raised as he nodded. You both awkwardly stood on the sidewalk. Creepy smile never leaving the clown’s face. You continued to smile back at him, eyes looking around. “Silent type? How mysterious, I like it,” you tapped your fingers against his chest, “Hopefully I’ll see you there tonight, I’ve gotta get going. Bye!” You waved him off as you walked past him. His stiff body following you until he was facing the same direction. Eyes never leaving you. Peering at how your hips swayed and ass bounced in the dress.
What was wrong with him?
You headed down to the street the club was on. Waving at the bouncer, unable to stop himself from eye-fucking you in that dress. Booping him on the nose as you entered.
The club was decorated in all Christmas lights. A handful of fake trees placed along the floor. Everyone dressed up as different holiday characters. Elves, Snowmen, Reindeer, the whole nine yards. You were greeted by your happy coworkers as you took your place behind the bar. Preparing for the night of heavy drinkers ahead. Unable to get that clown out of your mind.
The Club was booming. Extremely loud Christmas remixes, people singing along and grinding together filled the scene. Strobing lights decorated the walls as the big projected screen behind the DJ showed clips of old Christmas movies without sound. It was difficult to hear your customers like this, good thing you could read lips.
There was finally a dry spell at the bar. Giving you time to stretch your neck and legs. Rolling your shoulders as you softly bobbed your head to the music. Taking a drink of water from your bottle. Almost every seat at the bar was taken. People hitting on each other, drinking away their sorrows, and some groups filled the seats. When a familiar face sat on your side of the bar. Loud garbage bag clanged against the floor. Causing you to jump out of your skin. Eyes peered over to the source.
White and Black face paint. It was the guy from the street. Your expression beamed at him. “Hey! You came by,” you reached a hand out to him in excitement. Wide smile painted across his face as he nodded at you. Still as silent as ever.
“I’m so glad you decided to come by. Still looking good in that Santa outfit I see,” you flirted. He snickered as he tucked his face into his shoulder, pretending that your words were embarrassing him. Hands coming up to wave off your compliment. Gesturing to your body, silently complimenting you.
You walked around the bar, hands tip-toeing up his arm, “Think you’re looking for a Mrs. Claus?”
The Clown tilted his head to the side. Eyes scanning your entire body, resting on your breasts with a devious smile. Looking up at you through his lashes, nodding slowly. You smiled at him.
“Can you cover me?” You called out to your coworker behind the bar. She gave a thumbs up as she poured a shot for a customer. You smiled giddily at him. His brows raising as he returned the look. He stood from his seat, towering over you. He was so tall. Long fingers wrapped around your wrist as he dragged you down a dark hallway. Garbage bag occasionally scraping the wall. He led you around as if he knew the place. Familiar with the proper hiding spots. Arousal pooled deep in your bones. Where his hand held your wrist ignited throughout your body.
He stopped in front of a dingy door to an abandoned bathroom. Opening it and allowing you in first. It was dark in the old bathroom. You never used this one, reserved for occasional hookups and doing lines for your coworkers. The mysterious clown flicked on the dimly yellow bulb. Pointing excitedly towards the old stained mirror. The words “Art Was Here” was written in some type of red. Assuming it was some lipstick.
“Is that your name?”
Art nodded happily. Jumping up and down and clapping. You leaned against the cold brick wall. Arms folded over your chest as you stared at him. Examining his tall figure. His loosely fitting Santa costume leaving most of him up to your imagination. Except for those hands. Long, strong fingers. Barely peaking out of the fingerless gloves he wore.
His expression dropped suddenly. Brows falling in a straight line over his eyes. Mouth sealed with a hint of a frown. You felt your heartbeat speed up. A small amount of fear taking over at his sudden mood change. His head tilted slightly, eyes tracing your body. Your eyes darted around the dark room unsure of what his next move was. Was he going to fuck you? Kill you? Maybe nothing at all.
Before you could open your mouth he lunged at you. Thick fingers wrapped around your throat. Strong grasp around your windpipe. Pulling every bit of air out of you. Your eyes widened at him. A smirk of mischief painting the corner of his mouth. Leaning forward as if he was going to kiss you, turning into a long stripe licked up your face. Shoulders bounced with silent laughter. Fingers tightening around your jugular. You could feel yourself struggling to breathe. Vision growing slightly blurry with each passing minute. Art’s fingers traced down your body, squeezing your breasts along the way. Hooked up under your dress. Raising his eyebrows in surprise when he felt your lacy panties soaking wet. Wagging his finger at you, partially shaming you for your arousal.
You gasped for air that you did not receive. Feeling woozy. Art’s finger going back down to your aching core, circling your clit with two fingers. A broken moan escaped your throat. Dark eyes stared at your face. Watching how it contorted when he would hit the spot you liked. Feeling his cock growing with the pathetic noises you made.
Just as you felt yourself about to faint, Art removed his hand from your neck. Your own hand replaced his as you began heaving for air. Sliding slightly down the wall, firmer against his fingers. He puckered his lip out mocking the tears that stained the corners of your eyes. Your moans were far louder now. Being able to fully express yourself and the harder feeling of his fingers. His dark eyes watched how your chest bounced with each moan you let out.
Art slipped his middle finger under your panties, sliding it into your soaked folds. Causing your body to buckle forward against him. Grabbing his shoulder for support as your legs grew shaky and weak. Emotionless eyes met yours. Face still and unmoving as you pleaded up at him with your doe eyes. Curling his finger while the others continue circling your clit. His name fell from you in a cry as you felt that familiar tightening in your lower abdomen.
He knew his way around the human body, that was for sure. Knowing all the right places to inflict pain or pleasure. Usually he enjoyed seeing the way people would desperately run from him, crying out in pain when he would strike them down. Loving the way blood and guts warmed up his hands. But here he was, keeping you in tact while still feeling your insides. Adoring the way your sensitive insides clamped around his finger. How your body begged for him to please it. Walls pulling him deeper into you. Still getting that same pleasure as he watched you cry out and cling to him. The way tears stained under your eyes and fingers dug into his skin pooling inside him. Feeling his own arousal begin growing in his oversized pants.
You began thrusting up and down on his fingers. Widening his eyes as he watched you chase your high with his fingers. Opting to slide another into you, curling and scraping against your insides. Grazing that spongey spot that sent electricity through you. Curiosity painted his expression now. With one final curl of fingers, you came undone around him. Walls fluttering and sucking in his fingers. Arousal leaking down his digits as he continued pumping into you. Your entire body began shaking as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, having to hold them both to stabilize yourself. Your face curled into the crook of his neck. Skin smelling of sweat and iron.
Art pushed you against the wall. Standing stiffly in front of you as you panted. Face red with post orgasm glow. Feeling your walls clamp around nothing now. Craving something more. A closed mouth smile morphed into a wicked grin, baring his stained teeth. Examining his fingers that had been inside you. Pulling them apart while they were still connected by your arousal, a slimey rope connecting them. Taking his fingers into his mouth, sucking the taste of you off them. Eyes rolling into the back of his head. Sucking them off with a pop.
Unable to deny that that did something for you. Your chest was tight as you looked his body up and down. Landing on the faint tent pitched in his pants.
The tall clown fell to his knees in front of you. Crawling over and throwing the front of your dress up. Staring at your ruined panties. Soaked lace sticking to your lips. His hand rubbed up your leg, with a tug of brute force ripping your panties off in one go. Cold air hitting your heated mound. He suddenly licked up into your pussy. Tongue dancing down the slit, lapping at the remainder of you. He took one of your legs and threw it over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.
Art ate you out like it was going to be his last meal. Sloppily, his tongue spread your folds while his hands held tightly into your thighs. His crooked nose bumping against your throbbing clit. Still overstimulated from your first orgasm. Knowing it would not take long for him to take you there again at this rate.
“Art, I’m going to cum again,” your voice was shaken.
He nodded aggressively, refusing to remove from your opening. He had found a new favorite taste. Unable to get enough of you. If he could, he would bottle your taste up and take it home with him. Or maybe even take you away with him. Lock you up in his warehouse so he could taste you whenever he wanted. He knew you would taste especially good when your period would come around. His two favorite flavors combined.
You began grinding down onto his face. Pushing his nose against your clit over and over. Chasing your secondary high, unsure how many more he would have you endure. Not really caring. If they all felt this good you would let him have you however he wanted. Unwinding on his face. Art pressed his tongue between your folds wanting to feel them contort against his it. You slid down the wall loosing yourself. Art held you up like it was no problem. A strange strength coming from him. Your eyes squinted shut momentarily trying to catch your breath.
Art continued licking until you subsided. Standing, his face covered in your juices. Oddly none of his makeup smudged. You had to find out where he bought his foundation. Hooded eyes gazed down at you. You looked so pathetic sliding into the floor in front of him. Tits rising as you panted. He pictured how your lungs looked expanding in your chest. Desire to rip you open filling his thoughts. Fading when he felt his cock throbbing.
Long digits reached out to help you to your feet. Releasing you and letting you tumble back, head hitting the cold brick. You winced when it started to ache. Silently he laughed and pointed at you. Miming you hitting your head. You scowled up at him. He definitely enjoyed your pain. Something you were too overstimulated to care about. He rolled his eyes at you when you did not laugh along with him, reaching his hand out again. Swirling his finger in a circle gesturing for you to try again.
Art pulled you flush against his chest. Stronger than anyone else you had ever been in contact with. Acting as if you weighed nothing. You fluttered your lashes up at him. Mouth hung open as you continued taking deep breaths in. Abruptly he turned you around, forcing you against the sink. Staring at him through the mirror. Watching how his hands massaged and stroked your torso in the reflection. His nose traveled from your shoulder up to your neck. Tongue coming out to lick at your throat. Pulling skin between his teeth as he sucked a deep purple bruise there. You moaned for him, loving the attention he gave to your skin. His hands gripped your chest, pulling your breasts out of your top. Cold fingertips pinched at your hardening bulbs. His eyes fixated on your chest in the mirror. Tongue traveling further up your neck until it ended behind your ear.
He was entranced by your body. Not ever taking the time to see how things changed when someone was sexually aroused. Being all too familiar with how the body acted with pure terror. Your fastening heart rate thumped against his hands. Feeling your pulse against his lips had his desires in overdrive. He could have devoured you right there. Smeared your blood all over the walls of this shit-hole bathroom. Fucked your bloodied mouth while you fought within an inch of your life to survive.
But that would not satisfy him.
Sure, your flesh ripped between his teeth would be nice. But hearing all the pathetic cries and moans you made for him was even better. The way you would whine his name was like music to his ears.
Art reached down, freeing his length from the confides of his red pants. He was swollen and leaking pre-cum. Pushing your back forward forcing you to bend over the sink. Holding yourself up with your hands as you held eye contact in the mirror. He kicked your legs apart further, making sure he could get into you. Grabbing his cock by the base and swirling it around your slick. Coating himself with you, testing the waters of how far he was willing to go. You were so warm and welcoming. He could always leave you out to dry. Just play around and never fuck you. But he needed his own release. And the way you whined his name when he dipped a little deeper his mind was made up.
Art slammed himself into you. Hands gripping your skirt upon your lower back. Watching the way your ass bounced against his cock. Wickedly grinning at the sight of him penetrating you. Tongue coming out to glaze his rotten teeth. Sound of your skin smacking mixed with your screaming moans was like music to his ears. He was relentless. Length hitting deep inside you. One of his hands tangled in your hair, arching your neck back to force you to watch in the mirror.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you called to him like a prayer each time he would sheath inside you. His long shaft stretched your entrance perfectly. You scrunched your face up and rolled your eyes back as he continued pounding into you. Mouth forming an ‘O’. Your insides spasmed around his cock as it filled you up. Art’s brows twitched with pleasure. His toothy grin was unwieldy.
His other hand gripped your ass. Nails breaking the skin as he clawed at your soft flesh. Loving how your crimson red painted your cheek. Collecting the blood on his finger tips and pressing them against your aching nub once again. Circling the sensitivity. Breath hitched in your throat as he leaned further into his grasp on your hair. Closing your eyes and screaming loudly for him. Feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly.
Art’s pace was brutal. Snapping his hips up into you. With each circle of fingers and flick of hips, you were seeing stars. Almost too drunk on cock to form sentences. Never imagining when you got dressed today your night would go like this. Lost in ecstasy of pleasure. Coil winding tighter and tighter in your stomach.
Fingers taking you to a place of pure hormonal bliss. Insides quaking and pulling him deeper. Art’s mouth shaped into an ‘O’ realizing you were cumming around his cock. Nodding with satisfaction as his dark eyes pierced into yours. Watching how drool fell out of your mouth and sweat rolled down your body.
Art pulled his fingers up, seeing the crimson red was now a softer pink. Shoving the combination of you into his mouth. Licking between his fingers like something from a porno. His shoulders relaxed as he continued fucking into you. Your entire body was shaking. Legs wobbled like they would give out on you any second.
His wet fingers rubbed at your chest. Tracing up and curling between your lips. Forcing their way into your mouth. Taking them like he wanted. He released his grip on your hair, planting the hand against your hip instead. Pinning you with his hips. Clearing chasing his own high now. Continuing to watch as he pumped his fingers into your mouth. Loving the sound of you gagging and slobbering. Feeling himself twitch inside you. His breathing picking up as he focused where he punctured you.
Watching how perfectly you sucked him in. Wanting to cum all inside you. Wanted you so filled with him you could barely walk. Knowing it would make you crave him forever. Addicted to the feeling of his seed inside you.
Hips pressed flush against yours. Shooting his white hot inside you. Coating your walls with his cum. Holding still so he could feel you milk him. He rolled his neck and leaned his head back, never having felt something this good. His chest pounded as he begged for air. Deep breaths filling his desperate lungs.
You slumped against the sink. Quivering arms and legs fighting to hold you up. Resting your head on your arms. Your cunt having been worked to its limit.
Art stood up straighter behind you. Flattening his suit down with his hands. Smiling at you in the mirror as he tucked his member back away. Waving his fingers at you.
You were unsure who this man was, but you never wanted to be apart from him.
~~~
[END]
// Thank you so much for reading! This is only my second time writing for Art, but I sure do love writing him. Expressing his mannerisms is so fun. If you have any requests for him, please send them my way! I look forward to future Fics! //
{tags}
@l0sercat ~ @tedi28 ~ @hyperfixated-clown ~ @papispam ~ @melaninatedhorrorqueen ~ @lcvsanaa ~ @dilfismz ~ @knoepfl ~ @tuttifuckinfruttifriday ~ @spookysquids
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starryjiung · 1 month ago
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of pleasure and pain
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day 16 of piwontober
shower sex / fingering with yoon keeho
NSFW - 18+ MDNI
wc: 1.6k
tags: superhero au, villain!keeho, hero!reader, scars, blood, wounds, weapons, mentions of murder/killing people, fingering, shower sex, pet names, praise, degradation, reader uses she/her pronouns and has a clitoris and vagina, keeho refers to reader as girl
a/n: omg my smut debut look at me go! here is my little thanks to section, because I have to mention @enbyjjunie who has been helping motivate me, brainstorm with me, and beta read!! of course a huge thank you to @sxfterhearts and @kisseobie for managing this whole event, and bringing all of us together. and to all the other amazing writers who are part of the project, I am so excited to be publishing my fic alongside yours ♡
Blood stained the white shower tiles, mixing with the soap bubbles to create intricate shapes as it swirled down the drain. The water rinsed everything off, every bit of blood, sweat, and grime that could be found on your bodies. If anything stuck in the corners, it wasn’t your problem, since this was Keeho’s bathroom. His white tiles, his cleaning headache. Not that you paid it much mind in the moment, with your back up against the cool glass of his shower doors, Keeho’s hands and mouth all over you.
“Fuck, careful where you place your hands,” he mumbled in your ear, shrugging your hand off his shoulder. You glanced over to see a fairly new bruise blossoming right where you had grabbed him, and couldn’t help the smirk that overtook your features.
“Got you good today, didn’t I?” you asked, the amusement short lived as you immediately felt a sharp stabbing pain on your hip in retaliation.
Keeho had pressed down on a fresh slashing wound from your fight earlier, making you yelp and instantly grab onto his arms for support, as your legs wobbled under you. Even though you had ended the night on a high, Keeho having to retreat from the city beaten and bruised, it was not like you had made it out completely unscathed. Keeho was an expert at wielding his signature twin poignard daggers, the many cuts on your body being evidence of this.
“I like it better when you shut up.”
“Someone’s a sore loser,” you mumbled, slowly trailing off as he leaned back into your space, caging you in between his arms against the now steamy glass door. He looked down at you with sharp eyes, and you noticed another bruise forming on his left cheekbone, no doubt the result of you hitting him with the blunt end of your glaive.
You and Keeho were the perfect match, two sides of the same coin in every way possible. The first time you had gone head to head, both of you had been left in awe of the other’s abilities. Not that any of you would ever admit it. Keeho’s teleportation powers and your super speed balanced each other out so well, one was never more than half a step ahead of the other. This resulted in fights purely being decided on combat skills and luck, as you wounded each other at a speed too high for the onlookers to perceive.
You turned your head slightly, pressing your lips firmly to his pretty bruise, making sure he both felt the warmth of the kiss, and was reminded of the earlier impact with your weapon. Your kisses softened as you trailed down the side of his face, your hands leaving his toned upper arms to explore the expanse of his naked upper body.
“I could have killed you today, you really should be nicer to me,” you said in between open mouthed kisses at his jawline.
“Oh yes, imagine those headlines. “Darling hero of Metro City commits murder on open street!” You can never kill me sweetheart, there would be an outrage,” he replied, eyes closed as you worked down his neck. “And your heart is too soft to do it.”
You decided to ignore his statement, not wanting to agree with him, and instead grabbed his hips to push up against. As soon as your front came in contact with his hard cock, Keeho let out a low groan, one you could feel vibrating in his throat as you had your face buried right in the crook of his neck. Not a second later, Keeho’s arms were back around you, holding you close in order to maintain the friction between your bodies.
As you were grinding against each other, you felt a shiver down your spine, the water on your body slowly drying and giving way to the cold air coming in from below. Before you even had time to adjust, Keeho was already pulling you back under the hot stream coming from the showerhead.
Standing even closer together now, in order for both of you to enjoy the warm water, Keeho rested his forehead against your temple, his face only a breath away as his hands travelled down the sides of your body. His hair was dripping down onto his collarbones, where you saw a paper-thin scar, long healed, but no doubt your doing. Most of the scars littering your body were left by him as well, reminders of every fight, every battle, every night spent together afterwards.
“How come you have never killed me?” you thought out loud.
You felt Keeho’s hands stop, just for half a second, before continuing to glide over your skin, his right pointer finger tracing a newly healed gash along your outer thigh, the skin raised and still pink. His doing.
“I mean, you’ve had the chance several times,” you continued, not satisfied with his silence.
For a few seconds, the sound of water hitting skin and tile was the only thing you could hear in the bathroom. Then you felt Keeho smile against your cheek.
“Yeah well, keeping you alive is way more fun, means I get to do this.”
His hand quickly moved from your leg to in between your bodies, his finger finding your clit and beginning to rub small circles without a moment’s hesitation. You immediately grabbed onto his shoulders for stability, all thoughts of the forming bruise there gone for now. A choked moan got stuck in your throat, which made Keeho giggle.
“Look at you, already struggling to stand and I have barely touched you,” he said, lips right next to your ear as his hand kept moving at the pace he knew you liked. “Wonder what the good people of Metro City would think of their precious hero, if they knew she was whimpering like a slut in my shower.”
“Oh fuck you,” you managed to gasp out, throwing your head back to rest against the wet tile behind you. This got a proper laugh out of Keeho, who now had a much better view of your upper body, taking full advantage of your new position.
“Later, maybe. For now I want you to beg for my fingers, can you do that, angel?” he asked.
You did not want to give him the satisfaction of begging, but the way he was rubbing circles on your clit also felt too good to object. Just then, his fingertips went further down, teasing at your entrance and making you inhale sharply.
You were dripping wet, more than one could expect you to be after such a short amount of time with Keeho’s hands on you. But just as he was to blame for most of the scars on your body, Keeho had also become responsible for the vast majority of your orgasms. He knew exactly what to do to have you moaning and begging for him, and in that moment you felt every ounce of pride and composure leave your body. You knew the pleasure he would reward you with was worth so much more.
“Please-” you started your sentence, cutting yourself off with a high pitched whine as Keeho’s fingers moved back up to your clit.
“Sorry could you repeat that sweetheart? I can’t hear you over all that pathetic whimpering,” he said, tilting his head slightly with an amused smile, as he watched you lose yourself to the feeling of his hands on you.
“Please! Please please I want you fingers inside me so bad Keeho, fuck, please,” you cried out, the grip you had on his shoulders becoming so tight, it would surely leave marks for the day after. None of you paid it any mind, however, used to much more permanent reminders of each other.
“That’s my good girl.”
Keeho slipped a single finger inside your wetness, quickly realising that you were turned on enough for him to add a second one immediately. The feeling of him inside of you, slowly stretching your walls, was enough to have you moaning uncontrollably. When he started curling his fingers up towards himself, you could feel how close you were already.
“You’re taking my fingers so well, being so obedient for me. Everyone else sees you fight, but only I know how good you are at giving in to me,” he said, eyes focused on where his fingers were pumping in and out of you.
You could do little more than nod, your breaths coming out as a mix of whines and sharp exhales. Both of you knew you were not going to last much longer.
“I want to feel you cum around my fingers, angel. Cum for me.”
He had barely finished the sentence, before you cried out, your orgasm hitting you as soon as he gave permission. Keeho could feel you clenching around him, coming undone as he continued to curl his fingers inside you. He had seen your face in complete ecstacy like this more times than he could count, and yet he craved it like a drug. The knowledge that he could have this effect on you too, the cuts on your body telling a story so different from the pleasure painting your features in that moment.
As you came down from the high, Keeho slowly removed his fingers again, letting the water rinse away your wetness, just as it had cleaned you off your blood.
Pulling yourself closer to him again, you leaned your face on his shoulder as your breathing returned to normal. Small crescent shaped indentations were left in the reddening bruise, and you found yourself leaving small pecks on each one, as Keeho brought his arms around you under the water.
How were you ever supposed to kill each other, when being alive together felt so good.
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itz-pandora · 2 months ago
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More Mix n Match!
heart hands are now the default, so addition to their custom hands, they’ll get a heart!
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starshine-valley · 1 year ago
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The last unit left!! Star’s * Purity !! The silly goofy band. I know i said that they’re the ones without hairstyle changes but i lied when i realized how much hairstyle changes would effect their characters and stuff!! So yeah!!
Anyways, last unit post
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cherrychilli · 9 months ago
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18+
Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, established relationship, lingerie, allusions to oral sex(F), PIV sex
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a/n: I'm no seamstress by any means but I can do a decent enough job with a needle and thread and I love making my own lingerie from time to time so it got me thinking about dear sweet horny Eddie and what it might be like when you let him in on your little hobby.
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You'd first told him about it a few months into your relationship, on a day when a press of his lips to the corner of your mouth had turned into open mouthed kisses, his tongue wrapped around yours. Eddie had pulled you closer to feel more of you then, settling you in his lap, pushing your skirt up to find the black, hand sewn lacy garters circling the thickness of your thighs, made dainty and pretty with ruching and bows.
He doesn't even know what they're called – all he knows is that he likes them, a lot and he tells you so between kisses, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers, pinching the delicate lace with a low whistle. He slips in a corny but sweet line about how it makes your thighs look like they've been giftwrapped just for him and that gets a giggle out of you, telling him you made them yourself.
"You serious?", he looks up at you, amazement shining bright in his deep mahogany eyes even when you try to downplay it, telling him it's not that hard. But your modesty does nothing to stop him from thinking you're the most talented person he's ever met and he reminds you of that mixed in with more praise when you change positions and he's down on his knees, slipping his fingers under each garter while he fits his head between your legs.
"Turning up in a pretty little outfit like this? that's begging to have my tongue on you, baby. You shoulda known that", he tuts against your clothed mound, licking a broad stripe up your panties, tasting the wetness that had gathered there on the black cotton.
He only pulled out the stitching on one garter that day – unintentional of course but unavoidable too given how tightly he had to hold you down in place as you writhed. It didn't trouble you though because it was nothing you couldn't mend with your needle and some thread back at home.
From then on, whenever you feel inspired to tackle a new design he's all sorts of encouraging, driving you and accompanying you to get all the things you need – all of the sewing supplies; fabric, thread, lace, ribbon, elastic and more. He helps you decide on which colors to get and he makes the gesture of paying for it all too, wanting to spoil you. Not to mention it's kind of like he's buying himself a present too, knowing you'll model the undergarments for him when you're done.
The most you let him help with after that is taking your measurements, letting him wrap the measuring tape around your hips and bust while you guide him on how to do it correctly but what that leads to is a lot of wandering touches and a few sneaky pinches on your ass, having to playfully swat his hands away if you hope to get anything done.
Eddie backs down with a little whine but all the faux pouting's just for show. He finds space on your bed while you look up DIY tutorials online at your desk before you get down to sewing, all of your supplies laid out neatly by your side, ready to be used.
While you're busy he spends his time strumming away on his guitar, pencil tucked behind his ear as he brainstorms lyrics for a new song. Both of you liked working on your own projects this way, in the same room because you appreciate having each other's company and presence to surround yourself with while you create.
Though Eddie had promised not to look too much he struggles to uphold that promise as he sneaks peaks at you cutting out patterns for a matching lace bra and panty set. He adores the cute way your brows scrunch together in concentration when you thread your needle and how you sometimes mirror him with your tongue pinched between your lips while you meticulously stitch all the individual cut outs together.
Somewhere between the time it takes you to get the panties finished and the bra started he approaches you, one hand clamped over his eyes so he can't see your progress – he knows how much you want to surprise him with the final result. Held out in the other is a mug of that tea you like, having made a quick trip to your kitchen and back, a bag of potato chips cradled in the crook of his elbow for you too.
You thank him and gladly take the offerings, cheeks growing warm when he plants a quick kiss on the top of your head. "Don't overwork yourself", he coos into your hair, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before he heads back to your bed and picks up his guitar again.
The tune Eddie's playing carries you through the rest of your stitching and close to an hour later you swivel your desk chair around in his direction. "I'm done", you announce with a sunny smile and he grins back at you, fingers abandoning his guitar. "You gonna get changed right now?" he asks hopefully, eyes twinkling.
"Yup", you answer him, popping the 'P' with a little wink. You gather the set in your arms, stepping into the bathroom. "Wait here, I wanna do a reveal", you tell him before closing the door, all giddy with girlish excitement, proud of how the it all came out.
The wait isn't long but every second that passes has Eddie feeling like his head's full of fireworks, finding it impossible to remain still, fingers drumming on his knees, legs hung over the side of your bed, socked feet tapping away on your carpeted floor.
You don't announce yourself once you've changed, unlocking the bathroom door and letting it swing open as you lean against the doorframe, letting your boyfriend take in your newest creation.
You know you've succeeded when his lips part, jaw going slack and his eyes going wide to rake over every inch of you, stunned.
He makes grabby hands at you and its somehow made cuter given his age so you step forward to let him get a closer look, occupying the space between his spread legs, letting him place his warm hands on the bare skin of your waist.
It's always a rare moment when Eddie goes silent, words escaping him as he quietly admires the way the material wraps around your proportions perfectly and the the cheeky cut of your panties as you do a little spin for him, the front a soft lilac satin, the back a matching shade of lace to reveal your ass through the floral embroidery.
The bra is simple – nothing too elaborate like some of the designs you'd scrolled through but it compliments the underwear well. The straps are thin and rest comfortably on your shoulders, the rest sewn in a longline style. It's sheer with the same floral lace as your panties so your nipples show through, your breasts supported well even without padding or underwire for extra softness, all with a tiny, pretty ribbon bow stitched right in the middle to match the one on the front of your panties too.
"You're so fucking beautiful", me utters, pulling you closer to kiss you right above your belly button, making your chest flutter with a thousand beating wings, a hurricane of butterflies taking flight just beneath your skin.
You let him lay you down on the bed and he's far more gentle than he needs to be when he slips your panties to the side, not wanting to stretch or snag the lace and ruin all your hard work. Your belly feels warm like sunlight spilling through your window in the morning because he's so careful with the pretty underwear while he runs a finger through your wet folds, making you feel like something as delicate as porcelain, something to touched with care and worshiped. It makes you hunger for more, pulling him closer by his shoulders.
"Wanna feel you inside", you place your lips on his, hands helping him to unbuckle his belt as he leans over you. You pull not so gently at his clothing, a big contrast to how he's handling you, tossing each article to the side impatiently while you remain in your cute little ensemble. You wouldn't be ridding yourself of your underwear tonight and he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Can't believe I've got the prettiest doll in town all to myself", Eddie huffs a breath against the column of your neck at the same moment you suck one in, pressing his cock inside you, so thick and hard it makes the stretch that much better.
"And she's all dressed up just for me"
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luvjunie · 1 year ago
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— when the dam breaks
contains: third person pov (42!miles’), no reader, feelings of anxiety, some harsh language, use of the n-word once, a one-sided fight, angst, mentions of grief, brief comfort at the end
summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748
a/n: this fic is based on one of my headcanons from this post,(the 12th one). handling the grief of losing a parent is one of the hardest, most painful things to navigate, especially when you’re a teen and in school. i can directly relate to miles!42 because of this, which is probably why i’m able to go so in depth with his character. i’m really proud of how this turned out so i hope you guys enjoy reading <3
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The back of Ms. Bellam’s history class was Miles’ favorite spot to sit in. The seat by the window, specifically. Where he could gaze out with the fantasy of being anywhere else but stuck listening to the lecture in his fifth block; forced to hear his teacher rave on about some old expedition he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about.
But today, Miles was not in the back of the class.
He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda; a partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.
Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.
“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”
She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and drew two more names. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”
“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”
Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.
“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”
With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, snatched his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.
Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.
The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.
She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“
“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.
“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”
Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sitting in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.
Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”
A voice to his left behind him caught his attention, the voice in question belonging to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.
Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.
“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”
Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.
“Miles?”
He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.
“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”
Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?
Then, there was a laugh.
Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.
“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”
It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.
“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.
Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.
Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching Ethan’s.
“The fuck you just say?”
Ethan froze.
Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.
“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was always quiet as a mouse in her class, well behaved above all.
Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.
Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.
“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”
“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.
“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.
“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who’d just seen red.
“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.
Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.
Strike one.
Then, the boy playfully nudged his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just received wasn’t one that would be carried out.
Strike two.
“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.
“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.
Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.
Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.
He’d be sent straight to juvie.
“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”
Strike three.
Ms. Bellam was yelling now. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”
And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.
Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps as they quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.
One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it even if he’d jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist to Ethan’s jaw and knocked him to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.
“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You-!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”
Everyone was yelling at once, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.
Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.
“That’s enough!”
Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked him up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.
“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”
Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.
He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.
The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.
Out of school suspension. One week.
It was the best the administrative staff could do after Rio swallowed her pride and went as low as begging them not to expel her boy.
Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, Miles didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling, and at the moment he was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when he tried to talk.
“Mamá, I—“
“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”
Silence.
It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked; what he’d done playing over and over again in a continuous loop. The wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school was now just a few steps up.
Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy; desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it, as much of a nuisance as it may be, was being tolerated enough to stay on it’s finder’s heels.
He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now, but his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen, dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of his mother’s disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.
“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.
“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“
Dad.
And the dam broke. Though its foundation wasn’t very strong to begin with— Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.
Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten. The sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news immediately put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.
“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me. No te lo guardes, ¿recuerda?” (no holding it in, remember?)
Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.
“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?
“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“
“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.
“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”
“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“
Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own guilt.
“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.
“We’re going to be okay.”
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vampireimiko · 1 year ago
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Johnny Cage with a fem reader who matches his vibe? 👀
Cocky AF
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warnings, NONE :3
note, im literally johnny cage 🙏🏾
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Johnny Cage, the Hollywood A-lister, was used to being the center of attention. Meaning, he was used to always getting what he wanted. Whether it was a role, some kind of artifact, or just a classic cliche, the girl. However, when he encountered you, a fellow star who effortlessly matched his charisma and vibe, he found himself captivated by a kindred spirit. Your ability to navigate the Hollywood scene with the same flair and confidence as him intrigued the actor.
You knew how Johnny was before you started filming alongside him. But you also knew how to handle yourself and deal with him, because well, the both of you were alike. Both gorgeous, big Hollywood stars, and known players.
Most girls and men would instantly throw themselves at him if Johnny so much as breathed near them. But not you, which is why he was intrigued. Of course, you'd flirt with him here and there, but you never pursued anything. As a seasoned professional and someone who knew how to handle themselves, you decided to keep a degree of distance, at least until the project was closer to completion.
Johnny, not accustomed to this level of restraint, decided to take it as a challenge. He enjoyed your banter, the way you matched his wit, and the fact that you treated him as an equal rather than a Hollywood heartthrob.
So with that being said, he decided to ask you out under the guise of just 'two coworkers having a coffee'.
"How nice of you to invite me out for coffee, Johnny. It's quite the change from your usual grand gestures," you quipped, a playful smirk on your face as you sipped your drink.
Johnny Cage leaned back, a charming grin on his face. "Well, you know me, always up for trying something new. Plus, I figured we could use a break from the set drama and paparazzi."
As you continued to banter, Johnny subtly shifted the conversation towards more personal topics. You found yourself sharing stories and laughter, realizing that beneath the Hollywood glitz, Johnny was more than just a charismatic actor. He was genuine, funny, and surprisingly easy to talk to.
"And then I told her-" Johnny was interrupted mid story by your phone ringing.
"Oh I'm so sorry, I have to take this! It's my agent." You apologized, before getting up to take the call.
"No worries," Johnny said with a casual wave. "Hollywood waits for no one."
As you stepped away to take the call, Johnny took a moment to observe you. He couldn't deny the intrigue that had grown between you two during the coffee outing. He was immensely attracted to you no doubt, he also couldn't deny the connection he felt he had developed with you in such a short time.
When you returned, it was unfortunately time for you to leave as you had an interview to attend.
"Guess Hollywood waits for you too," Johnny teased, though there was a genuine disappointment in his tone. The brief encounter had left an impression, and Johnny found himself looking forward to the next opportunity to spend time with you.
As you gathered your things, Johnny stood up, a signature grin on his face. "Well, don't let the interviewers steal you for too long. We've got a movie to finish, and who knows, maybe we can continue this fascinating conversation sometime?"
You giggled, returning his energy. "Of course, handsome. Until next time," you said giving him a kiss on the cheek and a giving him a flirtatious wave while walking away.
Johnny watched you leave, a mix of amusement and anticipation in his eyes. Your playful demeanor and the kiss on the cheek only fueled his curiosity and interest. As you walked away, he couldn't help but flash his signature grin, a touch of genuine excitement in his expression.
"Until next time," he called after you, his words carrying a hint of flirtatious charm.
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𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐘𝐘𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐢𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥) 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 !!
𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧
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foreverisntenough · 4 months ago
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‘OURS’
Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.
INDEX
Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)
Chapter 26 - Back at Home | ‘Ours’
word count - 11.2k
“One more set, yeah?” Trent yelled out to you from the other side of the court bouncing a tennis ball again and again onto the ground and back up into his hand waiting for you. You sat on the clay court sweating with your head tucked between your knees, breathing heavily in your tiny white tennis dress, absolutely knackered.
“No, we are done. You’ve had your fun.” You shook your head refusing to make eye contact with him. Trent had beat you in straight sets… twice. It’s not even that you were bad at tennis, he just was very good and very determined to win. You were slightly more indifferent about your game of tennis today. Trent was not going to sacrifice his pride and let you win and you knew that, you should’ve remembered it though when you agreed to the match. Marriage be damned Trent Alexander-Arnold wasn’t loosing a game.
“I think I want to build a court at the house. I want to teach Ted tennis. I think it could be her thing.” He cooed, pulling the net down with his hand and stepping over it coming towards you. You finally picked your head up with a smile. It was both very cute but slightly ridiculous to want to build a tennis court at your home. It slowly but surely started to feel like a sports complex in your back garden. The pool, the turf pitch, there was half of a basketball court as well, and now he wanted to add tennis into the mix. Whatever he wanted though. To be fair, it was quite fun and cool he could just decide that and you were sure in a month's time you’d be going out to sit court side to watch him and Teddy attempt to rally.
“Her thing?” You asked him with a cute tired smile. Trent wanted Teddy to be good at sports and that was abundantly clear but with the general public constantly pushing the narrative that she had to play football, ‘project TAA’ trended when you announced the pregnancy. It wasn’t something he felt all that comfortable with. Of course, he wanted her to, they played a lot together and watched a lot of football together. He hoped she’d like it but he wanted her to make the decision for herself if she ever wanted to do it.
“Yeah, I mean she’s going to be sick at any sport but we could do this one together. Could be nice, no?” He explained plopping himself to sit on the court next to you. One thing was certain to Trent though, Teddy was going to be excellent at everything she ever did. Even in her failures he’d think she was incredible and her efforts always valiant. She’d fumble in the grass trying to run as fast as she could and the look in his eyes was as if she’d won a gold medal. That’s not to knock Teddy either, she was fairly coordinated for her age, his belief in her though was astronomical in size.
“I’m sure she’d love it, T. Not so sure she’d want you to just torment her the way you just did to me for the past few hours but in general I know she’d love more time with daddy.” You cooed shuffling to lay your head on his shoulder. He draped his strong arm closest to you around your shoulder and pulled you tight into him. He kissed your temple with a hum.
“Torment is unfair. You just weren’t dialed in, ya know? I was thinking that when we play next time…” Trent began on a rambling tangent or analysis of sorts about your performance. It could be something you’d find annoying or offensive but when Trent talked about something with so much passion and enthusiasm you just wanted to listen to it for ages. He cared about you and so he had things he wanted to say. It was a loving way of lending his opinion and assistance. “I think when you serve if you tossed the ball a bit higher it’d make such a difference, baby. Honest.” He cooed focused on bouncing the tennis ball again in front of you two. You just hummed in agreement with a smug smile. He was right. He was always right. That was the other thing that made the babbling all the more endearing. He knew what he was talking about.
“I will give it a go next time. Thank you for the advice, pretty boy.” You giggled a little as he stood up first and pulled you up by your hands. You dusted off your ass that had chalky dust from the court all over you but you began to care less and less when you became distracted watching Trent peel his sweaty t-shirt off over his head. There was something incredibly sexy about him when he worked out or was just sweaty. It should be gross and yet there were few things that turned you on quite like it.
“Maybe you can give me private lessons when you build the court at the house.” You spoke softly to him walking over to the side of the fenced in area now. You watched his back muscles move as he put the rackets away and your mouth watered. You move to run your hands up and down his back, over his strong muscles and he purred letting his head drop back towards you with a relaxed expression. You let your hands run lower down him until you reached the waistband of his shorts and then you glided your hands around his waist toying with it. “You know, I heard a lot of people sleep with their tennis instructors, baby.” You informed him. You were being cheeky but there was some truth to your trope. You knew a few marriages from growing up that had fallen victim to country club affairs. This was not that obviously. You were just being playful. He hummed, placing his hands over top of yours on his shiny tanned skin. He looked fucking delicious. You wanted a bite and so you took one. You pressed your lips to his back and worked kisses up his skin but when you reached his shoulder you bit down cheekily. He flicked his gaze to the side to see you with a handsomely conniving grin. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t mind. You could teach me… and then you could play with me…” you whispered to him, dropping your tone. Trent could feel his heart begin to race and slam against his chest. The hot air of the Mediterranean somehow feeling impossibly hotter than before The growing bulge in his shorts, anything but subtle. “And then of course we’d have to stretch after.” You kept talking with blatantly coy innuendos.
“Of course. Would need to stretch you out. Can't have you getting hurt” Trent provided an ad lib that had your pussy throbbing. Everything about this moment was sexy; the way he looked, the way he felt, the way he smelt, the way he sounded, it had you reeling.
“Right, I would definitely need it and then after that cool down I’d have to shower so.” You dragged your hands over his abs and then dipped slightly into the waistband of his shorts. Trent shuttering a little, having to take a deep breath, you then pulling your hands back up the muscles.
“I can help you there as well.” He cooed, grabbing your hands and spinning around in your embrace. He wrapped his arms around your own waist swiftly as you moved to drape yours up over his shoulders. He dragged his hands over the curve of your ass and then to the underside of your thighs before he picked you up with ease.
“Wow. That sounds…mmmph.” You couldn’t even finish your sentence. You smiled at him with a sultry smirk before diving back into your silly roleplay. “What a thorough instructor. How much does all this cost?” You giggled in his arms as he narrowed his gaze into your eyes. Your legs wrapped around his waist and he moved over to the bench off to the side of the court taking a seat, you coming down with him to straddle him now.
“For you pretty girl? Free but I have a few prerequisites.” He answered your question. You raised your eyebrow and bit your lip to hold back a juvenile excited smile forming on your face to hear his response. “Erm well thing is you’ve got to be my wife for the rest of your life and you’ve got to be a good girl f’me the whole time.” He cooed quietly in a way that shivers racing down your spine. You leaned forward and pressed your nose to his.
“I definitely will be both of those things forever.” You whispered before taking his bottom plump lip between your teeth and pulling it.
You boarded the private plane home and felt an odd mix of emotions. Part of you couldn’t wait to get back home to your baby girl and regular life but another part of you would’ve loved to stay on your honeymoon for the rest of your life. Spending time with Trent alone was so refreshing and almost energizing to your relationship. It was nice to be just you. Not parents, not a footballer, whatever it was, it was just so good to be Y/N and Trent together but your heart had a slight ache the whole time thinking about your little girl.
“You’re very pretty.” You whispered, running your hand over Trent’s hair. He was laying on top of you on a couch in the plane’s cabin. His cheek resting on your stomach. He looked like an angel. His features had gone more soft as he laid there resting.
“I’m sleeping.” Trent mumbled out against your warm skin. His plump lips moving flush against you too tired to prop his face up any to speak any more clearly. He had pulled up your shirt to lay directly on your stomach. He didn’t want any barrier between you two. For some reason he was being incredibly clingy for the last day and a half. He said he was fine but you knew it probably had to do with the fact that Liverpool’s preseason tour was so soon and he’d have to be away from you and Teddy.
“And you’re still very pretty.” You scratched at his scalp gently and he hummed nuzzling into you more. You weren’t looking forward to his departure but another season would be exciting. That was your life. That is quite literally what you legally had signed up for the other week, Mrs. Trent Alexander-Arnold would be at football matches guaranteed at least for the foreseeable future until he retired and probably still would be after that.
In swift succession your flight landed, you got in the car, and then you arrived at home. Trent let out a dramatic sigh as you walked into the house. He carried all your luggage and his inside and plopped it all in the foyer beside the door, the way that always drove you nuts. Trent started to laugh as he proceeded further into the house when he noticed a pause in your strides behind him seeing him drop it all there. Your brow furrowed as to why he was giggling away. He turned around cheekily and gave you a wink.
“I’m kidding! I know, I know. I will bring them upstairs, beautiful.” He sang to you bringing his hand to your waist pressing a kiss to your forehead. You muttered ‘so annoying.’ under your breath as you rolled your eyes. “Huh? Got something to say to me, your husband, the man you willingly chose to marry?” He cockily laughed while beginning to pick up all of the bags.
“No, baby.” You giggled, shaking your head, coming to help him pick up a few of the smaller pieces. You carried it all upstairs and you unpacked slowly and methodically while Trent laid in bed after a shower. It was so good to be home. Honestly, it felt like you’d been gone for ages. Frankly, you kind of had been considering you had left for the wedding weeks ago. With the help of both your families you had gotten Teddy from the United States back to the United Kingdom, Tyler flying her home for you but she was at Dianne’s now waiting for you to come get her. You picked her up and naturally it was a reunion full of tears.
Trent had to immediately get into football mode. The next day he was on his way to preseason training at AXA. It was a little insane you were already back at the start of another season but this time as his wife. Like the wind, things returned to normal, you were home and Trent was leaving the house for football yet again.
“You’re so cute.” You cooed watching Trent put on his watch with real focus to fix it’s clasp. You kept your focus on him. He deserved your focus but he held it without even trying. He looked so cute. He stuck his tongue out into the corner of his mouth the same way Teddy replicated often and scrunched his nose up.
“What are you on about?” He asked you with a breathy childish giggle you loved to hear only further proving your point. He flashed a look your way once he clasped it. Your heart faltered a little. It had only been mere weeks of no football and it wasn’t ever all that different but it was cute to see Trent put on his new training gear for each season every year.
“You’re just so cute, T.” You pouted at him. It felt almost like he was getting ready for his first day of school and had gotten a new outfit for it. He threw his head to the side dramatically the same way a school kid would.
“The disrespect. I’m a man, baby.” He shot back with some classic Trent sass and feigned offense.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah but you’re also such a cutttieeee.” You sang, hopping off the edge of your bed and skipping over to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist with a tight squeeze. Trent was sexy and manly, no shadow of a doubt but he also had one of the cutest faces in the world. Those boba eyes and pouty lips just were everything.
“Alright, well, this ‘cutie’ is going to go to his adult job as a professional male athlete so goodbye.” He cooed, wrapping an arm around you. He kissed your hair, breathing you in, relishing in a last moment of your comfort before he left for grueling workouts. He let go of you though more abruptly than you were expecting, walking to grab his phone off the nightstand. You thought he’d hold you a little longer.
“Wait… I don’t get a real kiss? I just called you cute and you’re gonna leave me without a kiss?” You looked at him shocked. He just shook his head at you. Of course, he wasn’t. That wouldn’t be any fun to just give into you. Your face dropped a little unintentionally offended that he just shook his head ‘no’ declining a kiss with you.
“You can’t call Teddy needy for me ever. Honestly. She learns this from you.” He laughed and you gave him a stubborn pout in return, something Teddy probably also learnt from you. “C’mere, you’re a joke but I love you.” He grabbed you and dragged you into him. He held your body in his arms and swayed you back and forth sillily. You smiled big up at him. He fairly harshly grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into a deep kiss with a hum.
“And you feed into it! You love the attention so who's really to blame here?” You asked him cheekily, pulling away from a particularly good kiss.
“Mama up pleabs.” Teddy whined. Tears filled her lash line this morning as she stood looking up at you with big sleepy puppy dog eyes. She was still in her pajamas, cute as ever but the tears had been flowing since you’d arrived back home from Italy. Teddy was really emotionally attached to you and you weren’t sure how to manage it. Not in a bad way, it was okay, you were too paranoid not to check in with her doctors about it but you were worried about her dependency at first. It just made you want to coddle her, you hated staring into those pooling brown eyes. You never wanted to see her sad.
“My Teddy bear, it’s okay. I got you. Come on cute girl. Let’s make some breakfast for you and we can go sit outside in the sunshine, okay?” You attempted to put her down from your hold but you were met with more tears. Her little hiccups and sniffles from her cries breaking your heart. Teddy had been glued to you. You were trying to do anything to make her happy or distract her from the fact that you’d been apart for some time. You’d hope making her a breakfast she liked and playing outside would make her smile a bit.
“Mama nos. Up pleabs” Teddy pouted pleadingly at you pulling at your arms and waited diligently and fairly stubbornly until you picked her back up. She hadn’t let her own little arms wrapped around your neck loosen one bit since you had come back. She buried her face in your shirt, refusing to budge when you finally caved and picked her back up.
“Okay, okay. You just want mummy to hold you all day, huh?” You giggled brushing your hand over her curls, pressing a few gentle kisses to her cheek. She nodded sadly in response. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ve got you. Aren’t you so happy that you, me and daddy are all back home together and the doggies?” You cooed and she hummed a ‘mmhmm’ sleepily hugging you. “We’ll have a fun day. You still have to tell mummy all the fun things you did at Mom Mom and Pop Pops. Can you tell me about how much fun you had at the beach with them and Win?” You asked her swiping your thumb under her eyes, catching some tears still slowly rolling down her soft skin.
“Missed my mama.” She cooed, rubbing her hands over her eyes awkwardly in the most adorable way in the funny way little kids did. Your bottom lip rolled. Teddy loved you and Trent. She wasn’t attached in a bad way but it was a hard thing to navigate how clingy she could get with you. With Trent so busy with football that was always an emotional departure each time and a confusing thing she hadn’t quite wrapped her head around entirely yet but sometimes you felt like she was all the more concerned when you weren’t around. That she was coming to terms that daddy had to travel for work and you’d see him on TV but where the hell did mummy think she was going? She was affectionate because you were affectionate and it was beautiful but you also wanted her to be strong, independent, and brave. You felt so guilty when you and Trent had said goodbye to her at once and knowing you had been together without her had her fairly upset. So what was her answer to what she did on her trip? She missed you, that's what she did.
“I know you did, Teddy bear but you had a fun time too. You were so brave on your plane ride home with Ty too. I heard you watched movies and had some snacks. Did you save me any goldfish crackers that Mum mum packed you, for me?” You asked her knowing that your mum had packed Teddy some for her flight home. It was a snack you introduced to Teddy when you were in the US and she loved the shape of them and of course the taste. She nodded. Dianne told you they were in her bag when you picked her up. Your mum had tucked some extra bags in with her things. “Oh wow! That's so nice of you. Thank you, sweet girl. My Teddy bear is such a big girl now. Mummy and Daddy are so proud of you for flying. You had lots of fun doing that, huh? Did you like traveling with Ty?” You asked her softly.
“Guess sos mama.” She answered you shyly, a little confused how she was able to feel both sad about missing you and happy about having fun with Tyler. She did really deserve your compliments. You were genuinely proud of her. She had flown home from New York with Tyler. He had some work things to do in Manhattan and some friends to see after the wedding so it had worked for him to get her and bring her back with him. She was chill and well behaved so it wasn’t exactly all that suprising news but it was cute that she was able to be brave like you hoped she’d be to fly home with her uncle, no mummy, no daddy. “And you know what else? I heard Pop Pop took you to get a really yummy treat a few nights that you liked. Do you remember what you had with him?” You asked her placing her back down on her own feet on the carpet crouching yourself down into a squat to get to her level to be eye to eye keeping your hand on her back.
“Chalk ice cweam.” She answered you in her best effort at pronouncing her dessert. You had heard all about ‘chalk ice cweam.’ They had gone out for ice cream one night and then another night and then another night by Teddy’s request. Your dad wanted to take Teddy to the ice cream shop he had always taken you and Winnie to while you two were growing up each summer. It made you melt like her ice cream cone had all over her tiny hand and white shirt in the photo your dad sent you. Teddy’s new obsession had taken on a life of its own from there. She loved it.
“Mmmmm was it so yummy? Mummy used to eat that with Pop Pop every summer time too. I loved it so much. My absolute favorite” You told Teddy and a pit formed in your stomach as the words fell out. Thinking about summers you’d spent indulging in ice cream cones with your dad, something you once loved so much made you sad and a little sick. Teddy was so excited by the treat and yet the idea of eating the dessert was horrifying to you now. You promised yourself you’d do everything you could to make sure Teddy never felt the way you did, what you did about something you used to love. You couldn’t let her develop this type of relationship with food or to be more honest, herself. “Do you know who else loves chocolate ice cream?” You cooed, starting to help her out of her cute printed pajamas trying to move on from your melancholy tornado of thoughts and get on with your morning. She shook her head ‘no.’ “Daddy does. You’re just like daddy, huh?” You smiled at her. That was a massive compliment to Teddy. That’s all she wanted. Trent was everything to her so her sleepy pout slowly curled into a proud smile. She just liked to copy him. She’d follow him around the house just wanting to do what he did. You got her changed and made your way to the kitchen for some pancakes and juice followed by a nice morning in the back garden. You had initially planned some fun activities and games but Teddy just wanted to be stuck to you so instead you compromised letting her snuggle up to you on a couch in the shade of the back patio playing more educational and less exerting games asking her questions about colors, numbers and spelling getting to see her mind develop in real time.
“Me, dada. Kiss Teddy.” Teddy yelled as she pulled at the hem of Trent’s shorts the second he walked into the house coming back from training. She had developed super senses. The ability to know the second when he arrived home. She just knew instantly and would dart to the door.
“Hi baby bear. What did you miss me or something?” Trent laughed at her overzealousness. She stood waiting impatiently and Trent knew it would drive her nuts if he held off any affection she was clearly, and to be fair, usually rightfully so, anticipating. “I am gonna go give mummy a kiss hello, okay?” Her brow furrowed. He wasn’t going to give her a cuddle? He’d been home for 60 seconds and even that was too long to wait for a kiss in her mind. What was this about?
“Dada no. Kiss Teddy first.” She huffed. She was right there and you weren’t even in the room, why was he leaving her? She couldn’t believe she finally had Trent back home with her and he wasn't fawning all over her like he normally did.
“Let me go give mummy a kiss.” He lightly jogged away from her but not leaving the room just around in a small circle in the foyer of your house. This probably wasn’t the time for these jokes considering her upset over you being apart. Teddy, shocked, stood still and her bottom lip began to quiver, her eyes filling quick with tears. “Oh no no no, don’t need to cry, my beautiful girl. I’m just kidding. C’mere. Always have a kiss for my Teddy.” Trent cooed, picking her up, giving her a peck on her little pout, brushing away her tears. “I’m sorry baby. I love you. Missed you all day.” He kissed Teddy again. And then again. And again. He peppered his kisses all over her before he just began blowing raspberries against her skin.
“Dada!” She squealed with giggles. You were just finishing letting the dogs back inside from the back garden but the beautiful cacophony of her giggles reached you. Teddy was with you originally but she took off running when her ‘super senses’ kicked in before your second dog made it in because she needed to greet him immediately upon entry.
“Greedy, greedy girl. Can you share dada with me?” You cooed, coming into the front room. Seeing Teddy finally back giggling made everything better. It put your heart and mind at ease. The two of them perfectly beautiful.
“No, mama. My dada.” Teddy clarified to you making sure you knew that he was hers. You frowned dramatically with a defeated huff before you turned away from them to leave the room. Frankly, you hoped that if you were treating Teddy as cheekily as you normally would her attachment post honeymoon would start to dilute. You’d coddle her but a good tease was welcomed.
“Mama … I’m sowwy. Can give my dada kiss if want, mama.” Teddy looked so sad as Trent placed her down. She grabbed at his hand and dragged him over towards you as if he was some sort of possession or item of hers to give.
“My dada.” You cooed possessively, turning around and draping and hanging your body weight onto Trent dramatically. Teddy had given you an inch and you took a mile in her eyes. She glared at you with a ‘don’t take it too far now’ type of stare which made you laugh.
“C’mere, pretty girl. Mwah!” Trent kissed you with a laugh knowing exactly what you were doing, you both were just provoking your daughter. It was in good humor but that was enough for now. You scooped up Teddy in your arms after and Trent pulled both of you into him. “Mummy is so silly, right baby? You and mama can have all the kisses now I’ve got both my beautiful girls back with me finally. Love you so much, yeah?” Trent kissed Teddy’s cheek and she giggled happy with the current arrangement.
Trent was leaving for Liverpool’s preseason tour tomorrow which wasn’t fun. It was always really hard. You hated being apart. It was definitely hard to explain to Teddy daddy was leaving for a week plus after he just was away. It was a mountain you were not looking forward to climbing. It was a rainy day and you were sat in the living room laid horizontally on the couch under a blanket. Teddy was playing with the dogs close by, messing about on the floor. Trent was upstairs preparing his things to pack for his fast approaching departure.
“Mama, what watching?” Teddy inquisitively asked, coming round the couch. She tilted her head interested. You sat up from your position on the couch and extended your arms towards her.
“I’m watching a tv show. Do you want to come and watch a Teddy and mama show with me instead?” You asked her sweetly and gently, deciding you could pause whatever you had on and jump to something for her. She nodded with an excited giggle running towards you. “Okay, one condition though.” You prefaced
“What mama?” She asked eagerly, climbing up on the couch into your lap pulling on you to get herself up to you.
“You have to snuggle up with mummy. Okays?” You told her and she wiggled in your lap moving to cuddle herself up to you goofily. She laid her head onto your thigh and wrapped her arms around your waist.
“What movie should we watch, Ted?” You cooed. You knew her answer already though. It had become her current fixation. Bless Tyler for enduring an eight hour travel day with her in the midst of this obsession.
“Poooh mama!” She yelped with a giggle. She was lovvving Winnie The Pooh. It kind of took you by surprise mostly because when you imagined having a baby you actually were curious what the latest and greatest movies, shows, and songs were for them now. Your dad had showed her it during the week of your wedding. Naturally she liked it. Before it even started when he had explained the main character, Pooh, was a bear and his name was her favorite (and only) aunt, Winnie, ticking two big* boxes for her. You hummed already navigating on the screen with the remote to start the movie.
“What are we watching?” Trent cooed coming downstairs into the room seeing you and Teddy cuddled up. Teddy incredibly focused on the screen, your gaze fixed on her wrapping her ringlet curls round your fingers.
“Dada, shhhh!” Teddy hissed pushing her finger to her mouth telling Trent essentially to shut up because Winnie the Pooh was on the screen.
“Oh wow, I am so sorry!” He puffed some air out his nose stifling a laugh. He was well aware of the fascination, he should’ve known better. He sat on the couch beside you manhandling you and by proxy Teddy into a cuddle with him. His arms around you, face buried in your neck pressing slow quiet kisses to your skin. Trent didn’t need to watch. You all had seen this movie a lot lately.
“We’re watching our favorite movie.” You answered him with a soft giggle. He hummed, not even needing a further explanation or title name. He knew immediately. The pugey little yellow bear on the screen also gave it away.
“Nah, I know what my favorite movie is and it is definitely not this one, baby.” He whispered, correcting you with his lips coming to ghost over the shell of your ear. You smirked having an inkling what he might be referring to. The cheeky direction of your thoughts was halted by a very agitated Teddy.
“Mama!! dada!!!” Teddy whipped around to glare at you both annoyed. Trent held his hands up in innocence, removing them from your sides and then naturally felt inclined to point at you to push the blame. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior.
“Do I know this movie?” You craned your neck around, cooing in a significantly quieter voice hoping not to bother Teddy.
“Oh do you ever…” He whispered back and you felt your stomach drop a little in the best way. “You starred as the leading role. Main character, baby. Rave reviews about the performance I’ve heard as well.” He cheekily cooed, moving his lips much much closer to you. The feeling of his breath on your skin made your eyes flutter shut. He slipped his arm across your chest before dragging his big hand down your neck. It was frustratingly sexy but also stupidly innocent. You wanted to groan but you just focused your attention on that same little yellow bear still running about on the screen. Trent loved the feeling of your body sweetly snuggling into his juxtaposed with the incredibly suggestive hand placement that had both of your minds racing.
“Do you remember filming, movie star?” You shook your head disapproving of his teasing words that hit the shell of your ear with his plump juicy lips against your skin as he held you closer to him. You couldn’t stop your body from tensing in his embrace and the memories of not just that film he was referring to, the one that you’d made in the shower the other day with Trent, but all the other wonderful times you’ve had were coming flooding back. You tried to shuffle away but he held you to him moving his hand to press his palm flat against your stomach keeping you firm in place.
“Shhh, it’s rude to talk during our movie. Be quiet daddy” You cooed jokingly back to him needing to immediately pause the directions of your thoughts. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stand any more of him for the lengthy remainder of the movie left and the time until you put Teddy to bed. He reached around you and grabbed your chin to turn your chin back towards him. He kissed your lips gently. His pout feeling divine against your lips. You needed to not let him get in your head so you made the kiss a bit sillier than sexier sealing it with a ‘mwah’ noise. Teddy snapped around again to look at you very vexed, gesturing her hand towards the screen as if to say ‘what do you and daddy not understand about the fact that she was trying to watch Winnie The Pooh!’
‘Don’t forget this! Travel safe baby.’ You texted Trent and cheekily sent him the video you had discussed during the movie the other night, the movie you had filmed in the shower of your ensuite together. When he left for Liverpool’s preseason tour this morning, you wanted to cry but the keepsake of your spicy photos and video hidden on your camera roll would have to do in providing you some comfort and maybe a bit of fun while he was away. Marcel had come over the same morning a little later on just to hang with you, which was fairly common if Trent was home and probably even more so when he had to be away. It provided Trent a lot of comfort that someone could be home with his two girls. Marcel was sitting with Teddy at the kitchen island as you made them breakfast. The two of them babbling on and on about nonsense, taking selfies, and just being besties, frankly.
“Hey Marce, can you text T for me and ask where he put my mac charger? I forgot to ask before he left.” It just had randomly popped into your head that you had let Trent borrow it last night and per usual it was nowhere to be found. You asked Marcel not thinking about much other than preventing the pancakes on the skillet in front of you from burning, avoiding a critique from the two equally picky eaters at your table, despite their 20 year age gap. Marcel picked his head up and gave you a ‘sure’ answer. You just wanted to make sure you had a charger and he and Teddy had your phone. It was fine…
“Oh my god! Oh shit! Nope Ted, give that to me now!” Marcel yelped out as his eyes went wide and he winced in disgust, snatching the phone out of Teddy’s tiny hands. He turned the screen away from himself as well, grossed out by what was happening on it. Teddy was developing her finer motor skills as well as an infatuation with your phone. She loved playing with it and particularly loved taking selfies of herself or just hitting the camera button. You’d end up with thousands of blurred photos of her world but it was cute and you didn’t mind. She had meandered through from the camera somehow into uncharted territory when Marcel turned his attention to you for your question no longer following her movements on your phone. His eyes felt like they were burning when they snapped back seeing the video unfolding on the screen. Teddy wasn’t paying much attention to it she was more so staring at him now but the idea of her seeing a millisecond alone of a certain video freaked him out enough.
“Nah, Y/N. I’m gonna throw up. Like… Oh my god, Y/N.” He stood up frivolously panicked, rushing over to you, shoving your phone at you, holding it out in disgust. Teddy had clicked when she saw a notification from Trent pop up.. A small photo of him and his name appearing. His contact name in your phone since finding out you had gotten pregnant, originally as a joke, was ‘daddy’ leading to this disastrous moment you were unaware had unfolded. Teddy tapped seeing his name, problem being that she tapped on the last message you’d sent before he had taken off on his flight and hit play. Yes, it was that video.
“Oh my god! No!” You shrieked. Marcel motioned like he was going to be sick. You clicked off your phone and slammed it onto the marble countertop. “Literally oh my god!” You screamed.
“Honestly, I can’t look at you right now.” Marcel quipped running his hands over his head as he moved away from you back over to Teddy. He picked her up and she giggled at the sudden chaos that just unfolded in the kitchen. “You need new parents, they are disgusting, Teddy.” He spoke just to her moving into the archway into the next room connected to your kitchen. “Y/N!!! That is… That is foul.” He snapped at you.
“Stop saying my name like that, you're making me feel bad!” You yelled at him with a flush coming over your entire body. Your mind actually had gone almost completely blank. You were so in shock that your body's response was to start laughing. You couldn’t control it. “Oh my god!” You cackled, covering your face mortified.
“You should feel bad! That was criminal. Absolutely cannot believe you just left a video like that for your brother and baby to see.” Marcel quipped with wide eyes still as he shook his head while adjusting his hold of Teddy.
“I am so sorry. Oh my god. I’m sorry.” You profusely apologized in a panic. “Teddy, you didn’t see anything right? Didn’t see mummy on the phone?” You asked, petrified. She was actually at a solid enough age to identify what she saw. Maybe not from the adult perspective Marcel had just experienced but She’d be able to sus something out. You waited anxiously for her response.
“See what’s mama? Want to talk to dada now!!” She yelped blissfully unaware she could just have seen something that would’ve scarred her for life. She just wanted to talk to Trent now after seeing his name, opposite of Marcel. He never wanted to talk to you or Trent for time. You muttered a ‘oh thank god’ with a big deep breath. Marcel looked between you two and backed away by one step. You tried to walk towards him.
“Nope!” Marcel yelped out pushing his hand out towards you. “Stay away from us. Say mama’s gross.” He cooed to Teddy, sticking his tongue out towards you with a blow of air letting out a ‘ppbhhhttttt’ noise. You rolled your eyes at him. Teddy giggled with a jumbled version of what he was asking her to say then mirroring his action. Having Trent teach her nonsense was enough of a battle. She’d pick up random words he was loving using at the moment or he’d spit on the pitch and then she’d try to replicate, it was exhausting, incredibly cute but exhausting. You constantly had to manage the fine line of letting her have fun, learn, goof about, but still learn and know how to be polite and respectful, there was a time and a place for things. Adding two uncles, and two football teams, and all his friends around her it was just nonsense day in and day out. She was perfectly well behaved but she’d do this a lot. She’d be adventurous and silly with them eagerly giddy to do what they were doing.
“Baby… that’s not very nice to say to mummy.” You pouted, picking her up from his arms with a snappy glare.
“Sowwy mama. Not gwoss, tay?” She cooed with a pensive look not sure if she should keep her smile because Marcel was making her laugh or if she should fall more stoic because you had a frown on your face. You accepted her apology and kissed her with a big smile wildly relieved this hadn’t gone in another direction. You could manage Macel, he wouldn’t want to know an ounce more of detail than he gathered in that split second seeing that video. Teddy on the other hand more likely than not would’ve berated you with questions of what’s and why’s.
“No, actually I don’t think I can close my eyes ever again. Oh my days, man, that is fucking seared into my brain, Y/N.” Marcel groaned rubbing his eyes abandoning you and Teddy to plop himself on your living room couch. You placed Teddy back down on the floor and leaned over to whisper into her ear providing her with a set of instructions.
“Celly! Celly! Mama says you baby.” Teddy giggled, coming to jump onto the cushion next to him throwing herself over top of one of his outstretched legs with a goofy smile. “Like me?” She questioned him. He shook his head at her with a smile before he dropped it and scoffed. You loved to tease Marcel about his age. He wasn’t all that much younger but Dianne would always call him the baby and Teddy was intrigued that he was ‘like her.’ He snapped his neck to turn back and give you an unimpressed glare. If he wanted to use Teddy to make fun of your embarrassing faux pas, so could you. Two could play at that game. Trent was happily unaware of your mortifying morning scandal with Marcel. He was asleep on the flight to preseason. You had no doubt this would be used quite a bit though as ammunition to make fun of you both for time. He’d find out soon enough surely. Trent landed safely, falling into training sessions and heavy workouts, facetimes with Teddy and ones with you where you relayed the whole experience. He thought it was funny considering she didn’t see anything. You still felt wildly embarrassed.
“What is the one thing you're loving at the moment or the thing you’ve been obsessing over this summer?” Amidst preseason, a laidback journalist sat across from Trent asked him as he did press in between sessions. Trent smiled but paused to bite his plump bottom lip in thought.
“To be fair, l’ve been loving being married, obsessing over my wife.” Trent smiled tilting his head to the side and catching a glimpse of his phone screen illuminating with a notification. His background photo was of you and Teddy getting ready at The Plaza ahead of the wedding. He said he liked it the most because it was something he usually got to witness everyday. It was you two captured in your most Y/N and Teddy Alexander-Arnold selves. You were hugging her from behind pressing your cheek to hers as she awkwardly wrapped her arms up around your neck. He laughed a little before speaking again. “Erm… actually, I’ll get battered for that one. It’s my honest answer but you’ll have to cut that out.” He laughed. Naturally, the publication kept it in the eventually uploaded Youtube video. “I’ve really been loving Pilates. Get on it if you haven’t. Actually, my wife introduced me and we’ve been doing it a lot. So pilates.” He concluded that was his final answer. The reporter smiled seeing that Trent was seemingly unable to avoid talking about you even if he tried to deviate. He cheekily fixed his gaze directly into the camera lens sending a wink in that direction. It was sweet because yes, it was true Trent actually was enjoying it since his first time doing it in Italy but it was more just a sweet way for him to still say that the thing he’d always be loving at the moment would be you.
“I’m home, baby. I’m so sorry. Our arrival time got pushed back.” Trent whispered, pulling your limp body towards him across your mattress. He nestled you two under the covers back in your big bed after what felt like a very long two weeks apart.
“T…” you whined sleepily. You nuzzled your face against his neck lazily pushing your lips, not really even able to purse them, against his warm skin. You just left them placed there.
“Shhhh baby. Sleep.” He hushed you, wrapping you that much tighter in his embrace kissing your hair, breathing you in. He always did this thing that if you had fallen asleep before he had gotten home and his mind was still racing a mile a minute he’d just quietly whisper a murmur of compliments and mushy things to you interspersed with kisses. You weren’t even sure what he was saying. You knew it was nice, you’d catch bits of it sometimes, but most of the time you were out cold lulled by the comfort of him.
“I know missed you so much but she’s going to absolutely freak out. I don’t know if I’m ready for that squeal.” You were of course talking about your daughter, Teddy. You woke up cuddled with Trent, happy he was finally back home but you knew she was about to be even more thrilled than you, if that was possible. You had thought it’d be a fun surprise to not tell her the exact day daddy would be home and so to her delight she’d be woken up this morning by Trent. “I’m still so tired. Ted’s been putting me through it. I feel like I just chase after her. The energy levels she has and you know what… pace. She’s proper fast now, you know?” You cooed to Trent. Everything she did was amazing but also, she was still so young, she couldn’t have been all the fast but you knew Trent would get excited hearing an athletic update. You’d fill him in about taking Teddy to the nail salon and the big debate she had choosing what color to get later. This one was fun for now. Trent quite literally ran with your first tidbit of information about his time away. You could hear both their footsteps slapping against the floor as they sprinted down the hallway from Teddy’s room back to yours after he woke her up.
“Arghhh I think I just edged ya out, Ted.” Trent dramatically but fairly gracefully outstretching himself onto the carpet of your room reaching out for the ‘finish line’ i.e. the doorway. Of course, this was a race. The challenge set by Trent. Teddy had stumbled through it marginally before him. He looked up towards her with a confident grin knowing she did get through first.
“No dada! Teddy win. See! Dada! I win.” Teddy yelped out in a huff. She believed she won, she had. You could see your future ahead of you, the two of them constantly in conversation about who had won something. She was stood up still looking at him on the ground but then quickly plopped herself to lay on her belly on the carpet outstretched next to him.
“Oh I don’t know, I think I won. See.” Both you and Trent laughed. Her laying down to reach the finish line wasn’t all that effective of a tactic after she’d already ran through the finish line once which was cute. Trent stretched his arm out further reaching past the length of the tips of her fingers.
“Erm…” Teddy hummed thinking for a moment what to do. She wanted to win too but his arm clearly stretched past hers and you all could see that. “Tie dada, tay? We tie, tay?” She smiled at him before scootching herself up a little more on the carpet on her belly with a wiggle for their fingers to come be relatively aligned. Your heart warmed.
“Okay, that's fine with me. Dada and Ted tied. You and me can be on the same team so we both won, alright?” He explained to her rolling over onto his back and pulling her into his arms eliciting a giggly squeal you expected to hear for the next couple hours.
“You’re so nice, baby. Good idea to tie but I think you might’ve won it.” You poked a very sensitive bear and it wasn’t your Teddy. If it was anyone else in the world but Trent’s own daughter, his baby bear, not a shot he’d let that result fly. Settling for a tie? Not a chance. He’d immediately be inisting you do it again or tacking on an entirely new challenge to do. He would be fighting a battle that he created on his own. Yes, even you didn’t have the weight to get him to settle for a tie anymore.
“No, mama! Dada Ted tie, tay?” She corrected you. That was a big thing for her at the moment, finishing most sentences with her version of ‘okay.’ She heard you two say it in a more colloquial way a lot. She was using it to make sure you understood her.
“Okay, okay. Wanted to share the win with daddy, I got it. You’re such a daddy’s girl, aren’t you?” You cooed with a smile before rolling your eyes just at Trent.
“Nah!” He kissed her cheek dramatically. “She’s just my best friend, innit?” He spoke with Teddy nodding in agreement, you shot him a glare. Teddy Alexander-Arnold was without a shadow of a doubt, unequivocally a daddy’s girl. Full stop. Trent laughed knowing what your stare insinuated. “Yeah, yeah, she is. Whatever, I know that and I know that it’s the best thing ever as well. Look at this face, baby. How can you resist this?” Trent cooed to you taking Teddy’s face in his massive hands squishing it, the giggly squeal returning as anticipated.
“Aw Ted, you are daddy’s beautiful girl.” You smiled at them. Their faces nearly identical. “It’s ridiculous how obsessed she is with you but…” You spoke just to Trent again, sitting up more before falling forward to lay on your stomach to face them on the floor.
“I mean pot calling the black, cmon now.” Trent laughed. You’d been obsessed with Trent for years factually. You huffed a little being called out. “You’re my girl though as well and you don’t seem to mind that. Not a bad thing is it?” Trent continued leaning over on the floor to reach up to you. He cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against your lips.
“No, it's not so bad.” You pouted after the kiss craving more but you’d settle for the one if it meant you got to watch more of them, beginning your slow morning before the home opener.
The first game of the season was in fact in a day or sos time so in typical fashion even in free time, you were going to find yourself near a football pitch. You were sitting on the turf grass out on the pitch in your back garden in the evening as the sun began to set. You were in a tiny black alo workout set and a hoodie of Trent’s you had nicked off him because it was getting chilly being a spectator. Trent was far from chilly, he was very hot and he looked very hot as well. In retrospect you think he might’ve been doing this just to show off for you but you’d never complain. He knew how to put on a good show, to perform for you. He pulled his shirt over his head, tugging the material with his strong arm and back muscles flexing. You salivated at the way he dragged it over himself. It was so sexy. You sat on the side of the pitch really doing nothing but admiring him as he took and retook dead balls and free kicks. After a while though unprovoked you just started to give him shit to tease. His performance didn’t warrant any but you did it anyways.
“Alexander-Arnold really miss hit that one. Certainly not the best from the Liverpool right back.” You called out the jab mimicking a commentator’s voice like you’d hear on TV. He ignored the first couple ones just grinning to himself with an occasional eye roll continuing on. “Wayyyy! Come on!” You yelled after another strike as if it was a jeer from the crowd before falling into a giggle you tried to stifle. You threw your hands like you were a disappointed fan at a stadium.
“Enough! You come take one, baby. Go on! C’mere. Take one.” He demanded with teasing fury. He looked at you with a smug smile gesturing to the spot of the turf in front of him. You leaned forward and stood up. You jogged over to him. He laughed, placing the ball in place for you.
“Damn…” you muttered with a pout. You didn’t take too long to take the kick. You were doing this for jokes but you did end up hitting the top crossbar, the ball ricocheting off.
“Y/N Alexander-Arnold really mishit that one…” He mocked your earlier comment. You rolled your eyes and waved your hand at him.
“Give me a minute please. You’ve been doing this for an hour. I just got here and I’m in socks right now.” You hushed him, making him set the next ball. You really struck it well. It was indisputably a good kick. Not of his quality of course, but it was Trent-esq. He didn’t say anything, he just went to grab the next ball. “Oh come on! Give it to me… you know it as well.” You yelped, annoyed he didn’t acknowledge that it was good. You lunged to grab at his waist begging for his approval.
“Absolute scumbag, you. C’mere.” He muttered out with a cheeky smile. You squealed as he tried to grab at you. You attempted to take off away from him, obviously he caught you, dragging you down onto the field with his sweaty body falling over top of yours. The cheeky mood changed in a second. Your heaving chest rising and falling under him. He looked at you like he wanted to eat you and you weren't scared, you were begging for him to with your eyes. He leaned closer to you, his weight was anchored on his hands resting on either side of your head. You raised your hands and cupped his face bringing it down to yours maintaining your gaze on his beautiful brown eyes. Your own features growing more and more malleable under his focused attention. You met him in the middle, lips clashing eagerly. You kissed him with a hum. He fell into you passionately. He placed his hands overtop of yours before moving them off his face and pinning them above your head down to the turf. You let Trent do whatever he wanted with you when it came to moments like this. You were always so pliable as soon as his hands were on you. Thank god, your closest neighbor was acres away because this wasn’t going to stop. The kiss heated up fast. He kept one hand holding yours, the other eagerly roaming your body. You squirmed under his tantalizing touch. He had slotted himself between your legs spread wide. His cock growing hard and strained in his shorts. The bulge of his cock pushing into the warmness of your core between your own thighs. How the fuck did you end up like this? Your back was arched as he nibbled down your neck. He reveled in your moans beginning to grow louder and the feeling of you pushing your hips up into him. His hand slid under the small top you had on dragging it up and let your tits bounce out, exposing your boobs out in the night. He loved how you usually looked, but this was just on another level of beautiful and sexy. You were desperate and illuminated by the sunsetting and the warmth of your houses lights reaching near the pitch. He dropped his mouth down to your collarbone and then to one of your nipples. His hand trailing down at the same slow pace until he reached the waistband of your shorts sliding inside them. His fingers moving gingerly to your aching core and then up and down the slit of your now soaked pussy before he landed to circle over your clit ever so deliciously.
“T… oh my god. We can’t do this.” You whined through a gasp feeling him play with your sensitive clit. He rolled his hips into you more and it became even more clear there was no stopping this train, nothing you could say to stop him or you.
“It’s so good though. C’mon, baby give into this.” He cooed against your neck, his hot breath hitting against your skin slick with the wetness left from his lips. Your hand reached for his wrist, fingers wrapping around his lower arm trying to stop him from getting you to cum from just his fingers on… the turf pitch in your back garden. It was fucking insane how he had you like this. You had no control. He pulled away from your neck and moved his hand to your relief momentarily to prop himself to carefully take his cock out. He was blissfully unaware of how good he looks right now.
“Fuck… it’s so good, baby. Please. I want you.” You begged him leaning up a little. He inched himself closer before lining himself up with your pussy. He slowly pushed his tip through the slick of your opening. He watched himself coating his tip in a soft sheen of you. He hummed in response and agreement with you. You reached down desperately to help guide him inside of your further and faster easing through your walls.
“Be a good girl. Fuck. Baby, you feel so good f’me.” He grunted, beginning to pick up his pace. You clung onto him. Your arms draped around his neck, your legs around his waist dragging your heel down his back grinding into him keep him as close to you as possible. You wanted your bodies intertwined and your souls weaved seamlessly together. He kissed you again, swallowing your moans as he drove into you deeper and deeper. He picked up your thigh draping it over his forearm and moving your knee up towards your chin. The new angle ripped the most blissful whine from you. He smiled in the middle of his kiss, loving your reaction. He trailed his kisses from his lips down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and then down to reach your tits. He wrapped his lips around your nipples letting himself lazily flick over them drawing you closer and closer to your high.
“T.. baby. This is…fuck! Oh my god. Fuck!… Ridiculous.” You yelped after a particularly harsh and deep thrust. Minute after minute passed and you could feel the grind of the grassy turf beneath your rub against your back’s exposed skin. His hands rested on the dips of your waist, guiding his cock into you again and again. The roll of your own hips meeting his.
“Doing so well, beautiful. That’s it, Gonna cum f’me?” Trent’s breath began to become shallower as your pussy started to clench tighter around him. He looked down at you with so much love in his eyes it almost covered the lust. You looked so pretty underneath him, his cock still buried deep inside of you. “I’m gonna make you cum, baby. Just take it f’me.” Trent instructed you getting lost in the feeling of drilling in and out of your sopping wet pussy as you whimpered beginning to tremble, completely captivating him.
“T, baby…” you whined between heaving breaths. You sounded so pretty for him. “Please, please don’t stop! I’m gonna cum, baby.” You begged him squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you started to feel an orgasmic high fast approaching. He was so deep inside that you could feel every ridge and vein move inside your velvety walls. His large hands drew down your body in between you two and began rubbing tight circles on your throbbing clit. Your mind turned to complete mush. His thrusts became increasingly sloppier and rougher as he chased his own release with you.
“Cum all over my cock, yeah? I’m gonna fill you up, baby. ” Trent babbled as you nodded. Everythiwent white, you felt a part cumming, your body aching, your eyes squeezing shut again. You were gasping as Trent fucked you through your high.
“T…baby” you moaned, feeling his release beginning to paint your insides. He gripped you so tightly, holding you completely flush against him. He stilled, pumping you full with his cum while pressing his lips to yours the way he usually did.
“That’s my good girl.” he said as he laid on top of you completely spent as you both breathed heavily, whispering I love yous back and forth.
“I genuinely believed I knew what turf felt like until right now.” Trent laughed into your warm skin. Hiding in your neck collapsed still breathing heavily.
“And I genuinely believe that turf should never be in the places it is in right now.” You cooed trying to keep a straight face but couldn’t. You fell into a giggle with him. He rolled off you and to the side pulling you back into his arms. Your eyes fluttered closed momentarily as you leaned further into Trent’s sweaty body while you tried to regain your composure post orgasm. He hummed kissing your hair repeatedly. “I want to cuddle all night.” You whispered to Trent softly running your thumb over his high cheekbone inspecting his perfectly smooth skin once you came back to.
“Out here?” He questioned you with a sly grin, knowing 100% that is not what you meant. His back now on the grass, he became well aware of what you must’ve been feeling for the past 45 minutes and he definitely didn’t want to stay the way he was.
“No, obviously not.” You quipped with an eye roll and light teasing tap to his cheek. “I just meant with you. Cuddle with you, T, baby.” You whispered to him. You nuzzled your nose against his cheek before pressing a kiss to it.
“No one is stopping you, beautiful.” He responded turning his head from his upwards gaze at the falling night to look at you. He fell into a smile and kissed your lips.
“Can you retire early? We can just do this every day.” You giggled giving him a begging pout wrapping your arms around his waist a little tighter.
“A few things, pretty girl. We’re not doing this again, let alone everyday.” He replied and your face dropped into a dramatic pout. He kissed you again to remove it. “Alright, I’d do it again…but it’s not an everyday thing. This is horrible to lay on. The other thing, sorry to disappoint but I actually like my job, beautiful. Don’t really want to stop just yet even though I would love to spend everyday with you.” He cooed sweetly pushing a fallen strand of your hair behind your ear.
“I’m was just joking, T. You know that. I’m so proud of you. I want you to play as long as you can. I get severe anxiety every match but it’s still amazing.” You cooed, kissing his shoulder looking back at him in admiration.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry for the nerves, baby. I love having you there though. Knowing your behind me is the best thing.” He smiled at you and kissed your forehead before looking to grab both your hands and lacing them with his. He sat up dragging you with him to stand up. “Alright. I’ve had enough practice out here with footie and you, we’re moving the session inside.” He cooed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders pulling you into him.
“Bedroom session?” You asked, inquiring for more of him, raising your brow with a smirk. He kissed your hair and hummed in agreement. You walked inside the house and took a deep breath seeing a few toys of Teddy’s on the carpet and Trent’s trainers in the stairs, a glass you had left on the coffee table.
“It’ll be fine you know.” Trent spoke to you moving behind you and massaging your shoulders with his big hand in an effort to relieve the stress that just caused your muscles to tense. He watched your eyes dart around the place compiling a list of all the things you’d want to fix before tomorrow.
“I know. I don’t want to like ‘pretend’ or make it seem like we live any other way. I love our home. I love it being lived in. I’m just nervous about what they’ll think.” You confessed sheepishly. Tomorrow was the big day Bentley Brown from GQ was scheduled to come over to your house for his interview with you. Trent would be at training so you were pretty apprehensive about doing it, being in an interview with a major publication was terrifying. You didn’t know how it really would work. Being home on your own for it made you slightly more nervous. You’d never done an interview like this with Trent and certainly never alone but having him there would’ve been a comfort. You were scared.
Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍
Next part - Chapter 27 xx
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