#remember how i said there were a few matches that were going to hurt me deeply?
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Hottest JoJo Character Bracket - Match 2-2
#remember how i said there were a few matches that were going to hurt me deeply?#yeah this was the one i was thinking about#HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE BETWEEN MY LOVELIES#my trans children#my loves#i love them so much i cant do this#narancia ghirga#giorno giovanna#vento aureo#golden wind#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jojo's bizarre adventure#jjba#who's hotter jjba#hottest jjba character bracket#jjba minor
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Head in the Clouds IV
Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader
Summary: Your first few months in Barcelona
On the second to last match of the season at Chelsea, you get hurt.
You go to ground instantly and clutch at your leg, shrieking and rolling around on the floor. Your girlfriend is at your side instantly, holding your hand and whispering in your ear.
You tear your hamstring on the second to last match.
Alexia, Marta and Patri watch the replay of it happening a week later after they're told that Barcelona are signing you.
"Is it going to be healed in time?" Patri asks," It looked bad."
"She didn't need surgery and the doctors have given her around ten weeks. She'll be ready in time for the first match of the season."
"She's kind of young," Marta voices her thoughts next.
"So are a lot of our players."
"But they're from La Masia. They've been playing our style of football since they were kids. How do you know she'll do well?"
"We know," The staff respond," She's a great player and Lyon wanted her too. Be happy we snapped her up first."
Alexia sighs. "And what about schoolwork? She's English, right? Is she sticking with an English school or one of ours?"
"Her dad's Spanish," The staff member says," She speaks Spanish too."
Alexia, Marta and Patri frown as Paños walks in nearly ten minutes late.
"What did I miss?"
You don't feature much in their minds until your arrival in Barcelona months later.
A lot of the team are still riding the high of being World Cup winners so you largely go unnoticed for the first few days.
Alexia watches you from a distance though.
The staff said your father was Spanish yet she doesn't recognise you in the slightest. Clearly, you haven't been called up for the Spain youth teams yet so maybe you aren't quite as talented as the club seems to think you are.
You're on the tail end of your rehab so you're not in full training yet and no one's quite seen your skills.
You're not the only new member of the team and with everyone else in training, you fade into the background a bit.
"She looks familiar," Irene notes one day as she watches you pass slowly with one of the trainers.
"Does she? I don't recognise her," Alexia replies.
"No. I'm sure that I know her from somewhere."
It's not until weeks later that Irene knows how she recognises you.
She knows your father is Spanish, most of the team know by now but, like everyone else, she'd assumed that he was Catalan.
So, when Aitana addresses you in Catalan one day and you don't respond, it piques interest.
"You don't speak Catalan?"
"Why would I speak Catalan?"
"Because of your dad?"
"Oh! Papa is Basque so we speak that!"
"L/n?" Irene repeats your last name and you turn to look at her. "Your father doesn't happen to be one of the L/n's from Legazpi?"
"He is! How did you know that?"
A little bubble of laughter escapes Irene. "They used to live next door to me when I was a kid."
"Wow! That's so cool!"
It's another week or so before you join everyone else in training and that's when you make your mark.
You're a natural on the ball, easily cutting through everyone to bury it in the net. You receive passes expertly, bringing the ball down and turning to shoot in the next moment.
Most of all, you look like you're having fun. You look like the kids on the schoolyard do. You look like Alexia felt the first time she watched the men play at Camp Nou with her father.
You have talent, that much is certain.
But talent in training is different to talent in a match.
Since the revelation that you're Basque like her, Irene sticks close to you.
You enjoy her company. With your grandparents across the country, it's nice to speak Basque with someone and Irene's wife and son are so nice and sweet and you find yourself over at her place all the time.
It's at the same time, that Lucy and Keira seem to remember that you're English. It's fun to speak to people in English that understand your slang and Lucy in particular seems to light up when you mention that you've played for the England youth team a few times.
With you fully healed from your injury and the first match of the season coming up, you find yourself subbed on at the same time as Alexia.
She doesn't have high hopes with this being the first match of the season and the team getting back into the rhythm but she can't help but watch as you receive the ball in the midfield.
She expects you to be shut down quickly and pass it off but you avoid everyone that tries to take you down, even neatly leaping over a slide tackle.
You go one on one with the goalkeeper before chipping it over.
Alexia has never quite seen something like that before, especially from one so young.
You get another goal a moment later, nutmegging the keeper on your way and then complete your hattrick with ease with a worldie from outside the box.
A game that would have ordinarily ended 2-1 to Barcelona ends 5-1 because of three perfect goals from you.
You're a talent, Alexia thinks as you rock happily back and forth on your feet as you wait for your Nana and Granddad to come down from the stands.
You're better than a talent and Alexia can see you easily skipping the rest of the youth teams to make it into the senior teams.
She can imagine how easy it would be to link up with you for Spain, delivering pass after pass so you can kick it in easily.
She makes eye contact with Lucy across the pitch and the smirk tells Alexia everything she needs to know.
Lucy wants you for England.
"This is my granddad!" You tell Alexia, holding the hands of an older man with a receding hairline but a face marked with a life well lived and an older woman with a stern look and a walking stick," And my Nana!"
Your Nana says something but it's not the English that Alexia expects.
Her stomach sinks.
"Was that Swedish I heard?" Frido asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
"Yes!" You say, gesturing to your Nana," She's from Sweden! We speak it at home together."
A thoughtful look appears on Frido's face and Alexia's eyes narrow.
No.
This can't be happening.
The most promising youngster Alexia has seen in years, can't be eligible to play for three different countries.
It's just not possible yet it's the position Alexia finds herself in now.
It's hours later that Olga wakes up to the sound of drilling in the middle of the night. She's got an early morning train to Madrid for work and groans as she's woken up, dragging herself out of bed and wandering down to the basement where the sound is coming from.
Alexia looks manic and Olga's mouth hangs open.
A conspiracy theory style board is screwed into the wall with pieces of string connecting pictures to you in the very centre.
"Ale?" She asks, not willing to believe her eyes," What is this?"
"A family tree!" Alexia replies almost too happily to not be tinged with the edge of sleep deprivation.
"Okay. Why do you have it?"
"I told you about that kid, right? Y/n L/N? Well turns out if she doesn't want to play for Spain then she's got two more countries she can play for! I'm just checking that she's not eligible for anyone else!"
"Alexia...What the hell?! Go to bed!"
"In a minute," Alexia says dismissively," I'm just working out whether any of her parents were adopted or not."
#woso x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#barca femeni x reader#barcelona femeni#barca femeni#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
771 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aim for the Sky Part 24 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Spoiled beyond his wildest dreams, Bradley tries to take some time to appreciate everything he has on his birthday, but it can be hard to contain his excitement.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, anal sex, DILF Roo
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Bradley was eager. He didn't want you to know how eager, but he was sure it was obvious by now.
"Your cheeks are pink," you whispered, cupping them in both of your hands as he buckled you in. "Did all the dancing and hot sauce get to you?"
"Something like that," he murmured, kissing you so thoroughly, you gasped when he pulled away. The look you gave him beneath the dome light was indecent as he dragged his hand up your body and between your breasts so he could stroke your chin and your perfect cheek. Oh, you absolutely knew why his face was flushed and his hands were so grabby. But it was your fault anyway.
"Should we head home for the night?" you asked innocently.
As if you hadn't been talking about how your ass was all his since this morning.
Fuck. Every year, you gave him the most perfect birthday. When he turned thirty-six, you took him to La Jolla, and he couldn't wait to take you back there next week when your parents came out to watch Rose. Last year when he turned thirty-seven, he fucked you so hard in the backseat of your wretched little Honda Civic, he totaled the thing. At least you got pregnant with Rose that night.
And this year, he got to spend the evening reminiscing and enjoying the company of his wife and his daughter. He couldn't even remember how fucking bad every other birthday was between the year he lost his mom and when he turned thirty-five right before he met you. Since then, he'd been treated like a king. Today was no different. Tonight would follow suit.
"Yeah," he grunted, "let's go home."
The drive back to Coronado was mostly quiet while Rose slept. You had your hand on Bradley's thigh, and he had his hand on top of yours.
"You're excited," you whispered into the darkness. "I can practically feel your anticipation, Roo."
"Oh, fuck," he groaned. He was a complete mess for you tonight, and you knew it. He might as well just say it, but he didn't want you to think you didn't satisfy him all the time. He ran his left hand over his face when he stopped at a red light. "I'm really horny, Sweetheart. Somehow you know just what to do that's going to make me go wild. You've always known."
He could feel you preening next to him as the light turned green, and he hit the accelerator. "I like making you excited on your birthday."
"You do this to me every day," he insisted.
A few minutes later, he was rushing Rose inside in her car seat, and you were locking the door behind him. "I'll put her down in her crib if you put Tramp outside?"
You were already heading for the sliding glass door as you said, "I'll meet you in our bedroom."
He grunted in response, unclipping Rose from her carrier and depositing her gently in her crib. "I'll come back to change your diaper," he promised, straightening out her outfit.
He needed to calm the fuck down, because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. But when he walked into the bedroom, you made eye contact before pulling your dress over your head and tossing it onto the floor.
"You're killing me," he groaned, already working at his shirt buttons as you climbed into bed in your matching red lace bra and thong. He wrenched the fabric over his head and nearly fell down as he tried to take his shoes and jeans off at the same time.
Just as he was about to dive in bed after you, he watched you hold up your hand and whisper, "Go get the lube from the bathroom drawer, birthday boy."
Bradley felt dizzy as he turned toward the open doorway and dug around inside your drawer until he was rewarded with exactly what he needed. Armed with the water based lube and a massive boner, this time he did dive into bed with you. The bottle came to rest next to your head, and you giggled as he dipped down into a push up to kiss you.
"You are eager."
"There's no point in lying, Sweetheart. I am fucking eager."
It was almost better that this was a rare occurrence for him, because he just knew how good it was going to be as you tilted your chin up to kiss him. He could feel your hands on his abs before they slid inside his underwear. His eyes fluttered closed against the feel of your fingers teasing him, and he whispered, "I'm already turned on. Let me turn you on, too."
As he worked his way down your body, he felt your hands on his face. "Don't look at my belly," you whispered, pushing him further down toward your pussy.
"I like your belly," he grunted, pulling your underwear down so he could get to your tattoo and kiss you everywhere. "I like everything about you. Why do you think I'm so turned on?"
"Because you're about to have anal sex."
"With my wife." Bradley's lips skimmed your pussy as he spoke. "I'm turned on, because I've been thinking about you. And how fucking hot you are. And about the fact that you trust me not to hurt you. And how you let know every intimate inch of your body."
"Roo," you whimpered as he licked your pussy before kissing you there.
"I don't really care if we have anal sex tonight or never again," he said, looking up your body and meeting your gaze as your fingers gripped his hair. "But don't act like the mere notion of me getting to explore and enjoy your body isn't going to drive me wild. You know me. You know what you do to me."
He watched your lace covered chest rise and fall as you sighed deeply. Bradley took your thighs in his hands as you spread your legs wider for him. "I want you to enjoy every inch of me."
He ran his nose through your slick warmth, kissing you everywhere while he said, "You're absolutely fucking perfect, Baby Girl."
-----------------------------
You weren't expecting to feel emotional tonight, but while your husband ate your pussy, leaving you a squirming, writhing mess in the middle of the bed, your heart skipped a beat as you replayed his words.
I like everything about you. Why do you think I'm so turned on?
He told you so frequently that he thought you were perfect, and you kind of felt perfect as you sucked in deep breaths in nothing but your red bra while he gave you an absolutely killer orgasm.
"Oh god," you whined, your right heel digging into his back as he sucked on your clit and hit that mind-blowing spot inside you with two firm fingers. Bradley knew just what to do because you'd willingly let him explore your body to his heart's content for years. And you wanted him to have more, because you knew he'd give you more in return.
When your back arched off the bed and you came for him, you saw colorful stars at the edge of your vision. It was just that damn good. It took you a few seconds to catch your breath, but when you did, you rolled onto your stomach and looked back at him.
"It's your birthday, not mine," you whispered, and he raised one eyebrow before crawling until his body was covering yours. "Why am I the one getting all the orgasms?"
"Because I love you," he replied, kissing your cheek. You could feel his erection against the back of your thigh, and you wiggled your rear end against him until he groaned. "If you keep teasing me with that thing, I'm going to make a mess all over you."
You didn't try to hide your smile as you said, "Go ahead and make a mess inside me. Just go slow so it doesn't hurt."
His dark eyes widened a bit. "In your ass?" When you nodded, he asked, "Are you sure?"
"I'm absolutely sure, birthday boy."
But he didn't jump right to it. He carefully unhooked your bra and slid it down your shoulders so he could kiss the full expanse of your back. "You're so fucking soft," he whispered. His lips and mustache left your skin extra sensitive as he sucked along the back of your neck until you were moaning his name. "That sounds so pretty." Then you felt his hands rough against your ass and your thighs before he made himself at home, lapping at your pussy from behind. You knew you were still wet, and he used your slick to coat up your asshole with his tongue, big hands gripping you.
"Does that feel good?" he asked, and you groaned a garbled answer letting him know that yes, it did. "Want me to keep going?"
You could feel his finger at your opening, and you whimpered. "As long as you use the lube."
He did, and he worked at you for a while, never rushing you to the next stage before you were comfortable. His fingers were thick, but you knew how big his cock was, and you balled your fists up in the sheets and got onto your knees when you were ready for him.
The stretch felt good. Bradley's body behind yours was like a dream, and his voice in your ear as he pushed himself incrementally deeper made you relax. "Jesus Christ," he rasped. "My god, Sweetheart. Oh, fuck." His lips were on your shoulder, and then his face was tucked against your neck as he whined softly, chest heaving against your back. You felt almost too full as his hips met your ass. "Am I hurting you?"
When you wiggled in response, Bradley's nose dug into the side of your neck, a string of expletives flowing from his lips. "It feels almost good," you promised. "Like I couldn't be more full."
"If I move, I'll cum," he groaned. "But I really, really fucking want to move."
You rolled your hips against him, and it didn't hurt, but now his forearms were shaking, and his knuckles were white, and you knew how hard he was trying to keep himself still. "You can thrust slowly."
He did. He gave you three long, languid thrusts where you felt every bit of him, and then you knew by the sounds he was making that he was almost there. One more wiggle from you, and he was up on his knees with his hands gripping your hips, filling your ass with his cum.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he crooned, withdrawing himself inch by inch until you heard him say, "that's so goddamn pretty." His fingers were smoothing along your pussy up to where you could feel the mess he made on your skin. "What a perfect ass."
Then he was a fatigued mess, sprawled out on his back on the bed, pulling you closer to him. "Happy birthday," you whispered, and he looked up at you with pink cheeks and wide eyes.
"I am so spoiled by my wife."
"You are, Roo. It's insane."
---------------------------------
After a quick trip to the nursery to change Rose into a sleeper, Bradley coaxed you into the shower with him where he took the time to clean both of you up. "It's almost midnight, Daddy. Did you enjoy your day?"
"You know I did. It was absolutely perfect."
"There's cake for you in the kitchen."
He narrowed his eyes. "Are you still talking about your ass, or..."
"Actual cake," you told him with a laugh. "I baked it the other day and then hid it." He honestly didn't know how he deserved to be treated this well, but he always tried his best to do the same for you. He was too in love not to.
You definitely seemed to be less self conscious now as he ran his hand down your belly before using it to give you a soft smack on the ass. "I would love to have any and all of your various types of cake." He leaned down to kiss the tops of your breasts. "Rosie will probably wake up soon wanting to eat. That's literally the only thing holding me back from going to town on these bad boys."
Your laughter filled the room. "I think you've just about reached your treat limit for the day. But the cake in the kitchen is lemon."
"My favorite," he whispered, kissing your lips. "You're the best."
Once you were both towel dried and dressed for bed, Bradley scooped you up and carried you into the kitchen. "A year ago, I was fucking a baby into you."
"You fucked a baby into me, and you fucked up my car beyond repair. That was a big night for you, Bradley." When he set you down on the counter, you yelped.
"What?" he asked as you cling onto him instead.
"My asshole is sore," you whispered, eyes wide.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
You smiled which made him smile. "I just wasn't expecting it," you said with a laugh as you slid down his body until you were standing. "It's not terrible. Kind of a nice reminder of your birthday present." You reached for the lemon cake which had apparently been hiding with the pots and pans for days when you gasped. "I forgot! I got you another present."
Bradley watched you run into the spare room at the bottom of the stairs, and a moment later, you returned with a gift wrapped in red paper with a silver bow on it.
"Before you open it, please remember that you did ask for this."
Curiosity got the best of him. The day was already too good to be true, but when he tore into the paper, he knew what it was almost immediately. "Another sexy calendar," he moaned, and then his eyes bugged out. "A pregnant, sexy calendar."
"That's what you wanted," you repeated when he looked at you. "I had the photographer take them before you met me at the beach for maternity photos."
He absolutely did remember asking for it, but he couldn't believe you actually did it for him. January was a photo of you in your red bikini, pregnant with Rosie, hand resting on your belly. February was you wearing some kind of flowy dress that left nothing to the imagination. March was you in your unbuttoned jean shorts with your hands over your breasts, adorable bump front and center. April had you in a top with your tits practically spilling out of it.
"Incredible," he murmured, mesmerized by May where you were playing in the water in a wet, white tee shirt.
"You like it?" you asked as you sliced up some birthday cake.
"It's fantastic," he groaned when he got to June. It was a close up of your face and tits in that same wet shirt. "Holy hell." You were holding out a forkful of cake to him. "Are you going to make me a sexy calendar every year for my birthday?" he asked before taking the bite which melted on his tongue.
"Only if you're very well behaved. Those things require me to muster up every fiber of my courage, and I swear the photographer works some sort of magic to make me look so good."
"You always look that good, Sweetheart. If you check the photo gallery in my phone, you look just as hot in every photo in there as you do in the calendar pictures. You look that good right now. And you looked that good at the hot sauce restaurant. And you looked that good with my cock in your ass an hour ago."
Once again, he had you preening before him as you fed him more cake. "If you insist, Roo."
"I insist. I look at you more than anyone else does. I've got to be some sort of expert." He took another bite from the fork. "This is incredible. Thank you for everything today." He propped his new calendar up against the backsplash, open to June.
"Just make sure you put that away before my parents get here on Sunday," you said, tossing the fork into the sink and wrapping your arms around his waist.
"Right," he replied. You had him so excited about Father's Day and his birthday, he almost forgot they were flying in. "I'll put it out with all my workout gear tomorrow," he promised. "And you better start packing for La Jolla."
"I'll just throw some stuff in a bag before we leave on Thursday," you told him with a shrug.
"But I want you to make sure you pack all of your sexiest outfits. You always look good no matter what, but I love peeling that stuff off you."
You buried your face against his chest and whispered, "Okay." He could tell you were smiling just as Rose started crying.
"Midnight. On the dot," Bradley groaned, leading you backwards through the kitchen. "That kid is punctual."
You leaned up and kissed him, "I love you, birthday boy."
"I love you, too," he said over the sound of his daughter wailing to be fed. His past three birthdays were each more exciting than the last. He had no idea what else could be in store for him, but he wanted all of it.
---------------------------
On Sunday, you sat down very gingerly to enjoy brunch with Maria and Cam. You were still sore from Friday, and then last night, Bradley spanked you for being sassy. It wasn't entirely your fault you accidentally called him Daddy while you were FaceTiming your parents. He was using his commanding voice, going over the schedule for the upcoming week. You didn't think your parents even heard you say it, but you happily accepted your 'punishment' in the form of Bradley's hand on your ass and his cock in your pussy as soon as the call was over.
"Your parents are coming out today?" Cam asked, snapping your attention back to the last bit of your avocado toast and mimosa.
"Yeah. They're staying with Rose for a few nights while Bradley and I drive up to La Jolla. I won't be at work on Thursday."
"Bob and I are going away for Independence Day, too," Maria said dreamily. "He's taking me to Santa Barbara."
"Fuck you both," Cam grumbled, biting into some cinnamon toast. He chewed obnoxiously as he said, "I wish I had a hot aviator. I'll just be at home alone, watching Marvel shows and trying to feel something."
"I'll send you a postcard," you told him, giving him a loud kiss on the cheek.
"How's Rose?" Maria asked, ignoring Cam's comments completely.
"Adorable," you sighed. "You'll get to see her when Bradley picks me up to head to the airport."
No sooner did you mention your husband and daughter, and then they appeared.
"Hey," Bradley greeted your friends, leaning down to kiss you with Rose in his arms. He was wearing his aviators low on his nose, and he looked so good.
"Hi," Cam mumbled, and you could tell how badly he wanted to call your husband Lieutenant Commander Mustache. Maria on the other hand popped out of her seat to get to the baby.
"She got big," she said, scooping her out of Bradley's arms. "Such a big girl now."
Bradley eyed you over his sunglasses, and his smirk reminded you of last night. "We need to leave soon. They land in less than an hour."
"It's my turn to pay anyway," you said, digging in your wallet for some cash before Bradley handed you his credit card.
"I really hate you at times," Cam murmured, and you had to stifle your laughter.
"I only have love in my heart for you."
He rolled his eyes, but both of you were stifling your laughter now as Maria continued to bounce around with Rose. Eventually you signed the slip and handed it back to Bradley along with his credit card. "I'll see you both at work tomorrow," you promised, picking up your bag as Bradley took Rose back from Maria.
When you walked out of the restaurant, you saw several heads turn in your direction as women stared. "Everyone is looking at the DILF," you whispered.
"Where?" Bradley asked in confusion, looking around with his brow furrowed.
"I'm referring to you," you replied with a laugh as you walked out toward the red Bronco. He rolled his eyes but put a firm hand on your waist.
"Hang on. I want to buckle you in after I put her in her car seat."
So you waited until he was ready before climbing in the passenger seat, and then he pulled the seatbelt across your body before giving you a kiss. "Thanks, Roo."
He kissed your lips and the tip of your nose. "Let's get to the airport. Last time, their flight was early."
It was smooth sailing down the highway, and Rose was asleep by the time the Bronco was parked in the garage where she was conceived. Of course Bradley made a comment about it as he very carefully scooped her up again.
"Do you want to use the stroller?" you asked, but he immediately shook his head.
"I like carrying her like this."
"I know you do," you said, heart melting as you watched him kiss the top of her head. "I just thought I'd ask."
He carried her with both hands, and you tucked your arm around his waist as you headed inside and looked for their baggage carousel number. "This way," he rasped, and you followed him to the far end of the area. You snuggled in against him while you waited, and Bradley kissed the top of your head this time. "I cannot wait to get you in that fancy hotel room and have you all to myself."
You tilted your face up toward his and kissed the corner of his mustache. "Just so you know, my asshole still hurts."
"Fuck, Baby Girl," he grunted. "You always do this to me. You always say or do something to get me all stirred up right before your parents arrive."
You were about to tell him you had no idea what he was talking about, but you heard your mom calling your name. And when you turned, she was rushing toward you with your dad in her wake. "There they are! Oh, and look how sweet Rose looks!"
Bradley glared down at you, and you bit your lip and smiled up at him. "I'll make it up to you in La Jolla."
------------------------------
Happy birthday, DILF Roo. If you have an idea for something BG can do in La Jolla to "make it up to him", I would love to hear it. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 25
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@shanimallina87
@ccbb2222
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@horseslovers2016
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@mygyn
@yuckosworld
@daggerspare-standingby
@nessjo
@trickphotography2
@lyn-js
@furiousladyking
@godsfavoritebabe
@bethabear12
@halo-mystic
@sherlockstrangewolf
@theamuz
@khaylin27
#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster fanfiction#rooster imagine#rooster x you#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#aim for the sky
356 notes
·
View notes
Text
Beg You to Love Me
"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.
"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.
The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"
Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."
"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."
Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.
He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"
"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"
Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"
"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.
"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-
"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."
"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"
"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"
"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"
"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"
"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"
"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"
"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"
"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"
"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"
"-your fucking boyfriend!"
"-your fucking boyfriend!"
The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.
"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.
Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"
"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"
Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"
Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."
Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.
"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.
Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"
Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.
"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."
Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"
Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.
He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.
He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.
He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.
"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"
He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."
"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.
"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."
Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."
"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.
Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."
"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.
Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."
Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."
They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.
Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"
"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."
The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.
A goddamn miracle.
Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.
They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.
They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.
But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems
#steddie#my fic#this is just Miscommunication The Fic#hurt/comfort#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckleys the mvp for setting up the meeting by lying to eddie#shes going to demand a thank you gift for giving them the time to talk#and eddie WILL send her a whole fruit basket
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
my number one .ᐟ
Paring; art x reader
Synopsis; You'd always been your own worst enemy. Your anxiety liked to jump out at the worst times yet your ever-doting boyfriend was determined to be there every. single. time.
Even if that meant missing his match.
Requested; anon
Notes; tysm for the request <3 i kinda based this on my own anxiety and the methods I've been taught over the years
Masterlist
“I don’t wanna be annoying.”
“You're not being annoying.”
No matter how many times he says it, you never believe it. How could you not be annoying, especially when you’ve woken him up at 3 a.m. for what must be the third time this week?
Art sighed, pulling you closer to his chest. His hands rubbed over your back in soothing circles as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Just follow my breathing, okay?” It was a saying so common that it seemed to fall from his lips without a thought. It was almost like a lifeline of sorts knowing that no matter what you’d always have the steady beat of his heart only a phone call away whenever your own decided to forget how to beat on time and needed reminding.
It was equally a blessing and a curse. A blessing to have someone like Art who would drop everything to come at your beacon call but a curse that you needed him in that way.
Even now when he should be preparing for another tournament - against which school you can’t remember but then again your only thought right now is being able to focus enough to breathe - he’s here with you tucked around a corner from your class as you try to calm your breathing.
The moment he’d gotten your text.
Please come
Need you
He’d left the court without a second thought and made it to the building in record time. “You’re okay.” He soothed running a thumb over your cheek as he held your gaze. “You’re okay just breathe. In and out.”
He hated seeing you like this. No matter how many times it happened he’d never shake that feeling of nausea that would swim in his stomach whenever your breath seemed to catch and your eyes grew distant. It made him want to just wrap you in his arms and protect you from anything and everything that left you feeling even slightly anxious.
You were his entire world and it hurt him to know you were your own worst enemy.
“C’mon.” His hand intertwined with yours as he grabbed your bag. You both walked quietly back to his dorm your heart rate slowly going back to normal as you both walked.
“Don’t you have practice?” You frowned as he placed your bag on his bed turning to watch as you shut the door. “It’s fine.” He smiled trying to reassure you as he opened his arms. “I can practice later you’re more important right now okay.” He sighed pulling you against his chest.
The practice could wait right now all he cared about was you.
⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *
Not now, please god not now.
Art had already been so busy the last few days that you’d purposefully tried to leave him alone. He needed to train and you didn’t want to get in the way and worry him more then he already was.
He’d only left his dorm an hour ago to get ready for the match and you’d been fine. Better then fine actually you’d had a great morning and for a moment you’d thought that maybe you’d go three full days without your anxiety rearing its ugly head.
And then it proved you wrong.
“Art I’m fine.” You could hear his concern down the phone as you sat on his bed, mentally counting your breaths to try and keep some semblance of calm. “You sure? I can come back for a-”
“No. No stay there and just relax okay? I’ll come find you before it starts.” You could almost picture the concern in his eyes as he sighed before relenting. If you said you were fine you were fine, pushing you would only make it worse.
“Okay but call me if you need okay? I love you.”
“I love you too.” You smiled slightly tracing shapes over his covers as you ended the call. The room was starting to feel too small as you sat, the air almost stuffy. Nothing had even happened and yet you could already feel the anxiety building.
The pit in your stomach swirled as your hands grew clammy no matter how many times you wiped them on your jeans.
You were fine.
You had to be fine.
Taking a breath you stood pacing the small space as you tried to halt the attack. Breathe in for 10 out for 10.
In for 10 out for 10.
“Fuck.” Your voice shook slightly as tears began to prick at your eyes, your chest heaving as you tried to pull in a breath that wasn’t there.
Your eyes darted around the room as you looked for anything to help but came up empty. You couldn’t call him. You knew the minute you did he’d drop everything and you didn’t want that.
No matter how bad this was - and it was bad by your standards - his match was more important.
Wiping the tears you sat back down closing your eyes as you tried to talk yourself through it.
You were fine.
⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *
The breath he’d been holding since you’d spoken on the phone a few hours ago seemed to finally release as he spotted you in the crowd. His eyes lit up and a bright smile pulled at his lips as he made his way through the crowd towards where you stood, your own eyes lighting up when you noticed him.
“Hey.” He grinned pulling you in for a chaste kiss. “You came.”
“Of course I did.” You laughed but it was strained. Your smile slightly too tight as you fixed the cap over his curls. “You ready?” You asked pulling back ever so slightly.
“You're shaking.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are I can see your hands.” Art sighed his smile pulling into a frown as he took your hand in his. “Your freezing as well.”
Your face was still pulled into a tight smile but he saw right through it. The slight draw in your brow and the redness around your eyes gave you away almost immediately. Before you could say anything else he was pulling you through the crowd and behind the bleachers.
You swallowed back the tears which burned at your eyes. It had taken the whole two hours since the phone call for you to calm down even an inch and even now you still felt sluggish in your own body.
“Art m’fine.” Your voice shook as you closed your eyes.
“No your not.” He shook his head pushing a strand of hair from your face. “Why didn’t you call me?” You always called! It was bad enough knowing you’d walked from the dorms to the court like this but knowing you’d very possibly been like this since he’d last called you?
His own heart was racing at the thought.
“I didn’t wanna distract you.” His hand was now rubbing over your shoulder as you wiped at your eyes. “I know how much this means to you-”
“The match doesn’t matter.” He shook his head gently, tilting your chin up. Part of you already felt better just being near him, his presence a comfort in itself.
“Nothing matters more than you.” He smiled his eyes filled with warmth as his thumb flicked away a tear. “I’m not playing until I know you're okay. I can’t play knowing you're feeling like this.”
He pulled you closer rubbing a hand over your back. The match would never be more important than you - hell tennis would always come second to you. The fact the thought even crossed your mind was enough to have him debating putting the racket down and pulling you back to his dorm.
“Promise me you're still gonna play.” You whispered tucking your face into the crook of his neck as you breathed in the gentle scent of his aftershave for a moment. Your lungs seemed to work again as you pressed closer, sinking into his body.
“We’re not talking about tennis.” He murmured balancing his chin on your head. “You're all that matters.”
He meant his words, every single one of them. Sure he would play in the tournament but only once he knew you were okay, until then it was the last thing on his mind.
Tennis could never hold a torch to his love for you.
#challengers#art donaldson#challengers 2024#challengers movie#art challengers#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson fic#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x y/n#art donaldson fanfiction#art donaldson fluff#art donaldson drabble#challengers x reader#challengers x you#challengers x y/n#challengers fanfiction#challengers fic#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#tashi duncan#.mine#.challengers#.artdonaldson
260 notes
·
View notes
Text
bad days— lamine yamal [ l.y ]
you drew stars around my scars [cardigan– taylor swift]
pairing: lamine yamal x fem!reader
summary: after being subbed off during a match, lamine needs nothing more than to go home and lay in your arms
genre(s): fluff and comfort
[w.c: 1k] masterlist
notes: hiiii <33 how's everyone doing?? I'm sorry that I've been gone, I just started writing my finals so I've been a little pit of touch! and probably will be for a few weeks... but it's okay!!
lamine’s eyebrows knitted together in minor shock and confusion at the touchline. the substitution board was up— his number 19 clearly displayed in red to indicate that he was coming off. at the 66th minute.
there was a bitter taste in his mouth as he trudged off the pitch, his head hung low as he took his ansu’s hand since he was coming on in his place. he made sure to send his coach a blank glance before taking his spot on the bench with hector.
it wasn't long before he tossed his water bottle at the cooler in front of him. a frustrated groan left his lips, startling hector beside him who watched with sympathy as his friend sat with his hands covering his face.
with a lopsided smile, his friend lightly tapped his knee in reassurance, but that didn't simmer down the boy's bubbling negativity and hurt.
“I just need this match to end so that I can go home,” he said softly, more to himself as a reminder to pull through the next 30 minutes and sunk deeper into his seat.
as he trudged towards his house, his shoes scraped against the pavement, a rhythmic reminder of his disappointment. the city lights blurred together, a kaleidoscope of anger and frustration.
he burst through the door to his empty home, a sigh leaving his lips as he remembered that his parents were gone for the weekend. but the passage light was on, the same for upstairs which meant that someone was home.
lamine's heart pounded, a painful sting in his eyes but he hurriedly discarded his jacket and shoes to head upstairs. as he reached the top of the staircase, he heard the faint sound of laughter coming from his bedroom.
he opened the door hesitantly, but his tension dissipated immediately at the sight of you lounging casually with your laptop in front of you, your cellphone in your other hand. you were dressed in your sleepwear, indicating that you were staying the evening.
“hey, champ,” you said with a smile and discarded your phone to the side. “tough game?”
lamine's gaze lingered on yours, frustration melting at your gentle tone. “I got subbed off. again,” he replied, his voice softer than before.
your face lit up with empathy at your boyfriend's reply. this wasn't the first time that he came home upset about getting subbed off, he was even worse when they decided to rest him for a match. he went on about how there was no reason to, and that he was fine but you knew better than that.
you spread your arms and without saying anything lamine happily came to lay in between your legs, his head resting on your chest as you placed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“talk to me.”
as lamine settled into the warmth of your embrace, his tension began to unravel, thread by thread. your gentle kiss on his forehead sparked a sense of calm, like a soothing balm spreading through his frazzled nerves.
“flick says that I need rest,” he muttered, his voice vibrating against your chest. “but I'm fine. I can keep going.”
your fingers danced through his hair, a reassuring touch. “you're not a machine, lamine. you need time to breathe, and if taking you off with 30 minutes left is the solution that so be it.”
lamine's eyes drifted shut, his breathing slowing as he absorbed your words. he knew you were right, but the frustration still simmered, a stubborn flame refusing to be extinguished.
you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as close as you possibly could. “you're important to the team, we know this. but you're young, and they can't risk losing you. it happens too often.”
his face contorted at the remembrance of pablo, ansu and balde who were out for an entire season, their form slowly returning after their traumatic injuries. but he couldn't help it. he needed to be on that pitch for 90 minutes. he wanted to do everything that he could to help his club succeed.
“I hate feeling like I'm letting everyone down.”
your grip tightened. “you're not letting anyone down, baby. you're taking care of yourself and that takes strength.”
as your words seeped into his mind, lamine felt the weight of his emotions shift. his anger and frustration began to give way to a deeper sadness. a feeling of hopelessness and self doubt.
“I just feel like I'm losing my edge,” he whispered, his voice cracking. his grip around your waist tightened and you took it as a sign to attempt to brighten the mood a little.
you mocked a gasp with a small smile. “what? lamine yamal losing his edge?” your nose scrunched. “impossible.”
your boyfriend’s face contorted in a mixture of embarrassment and amusement, his eyes still shining with unshed tears. “shut up,” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of laughter. “you're not helping.”
you playfully rolled your eyes. “oh, I'm not?” you poked his side with your index finger and he squirmed a bit. “just know that when you're with me your edge is quite literally non-existent.”
lamine's face turned bright red and he tried to look away to try and hide his smile. “you're enjoying this aren't you?”
you nodded enthusiastically. “I mean it's not everyday that I get to see you this vulnerable right? I'm witnessing history.”
his eyes sparkled eyes sparkled with amusement, and he pulled you closer, flipping you onto your side so that you were looking at him from your side— his face inches from yours. “you're going to pay for this,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear as he placed a kiss on your temple.
you playfully gasped, your heart pounding in your eyes. “I'm terrified. shaking in my boots actually,” you giggled, squirming out of his hold but he managed to pull you closer.
for a moment the room went silent, lamine's fingers gently tracing underneath your shirt. “I'm sorry for coming home in a bad mood.”
your heart swelled at his apology, saying nothing more and just pulling him closer as a reminder that it wasn't an issue. “it's okay, baby. I've got you.”
lamine's eyes, usually bright and bold, were vulnerable, like a window open to his soul. you could see the pain and doubt lingering in the depths, but also a spark of hope that flickered ever so lightly with every beat of his heart with yours.
you felt like you were drowning in his gaze, but in a good way, like you were floating on a sea of emotions, with lamine as your anchor. the air was thick with tension, but not the kind that made you uncomfortable. it was the kind that made you feel alive, like every cell in your body was vibrating.
his face was inches from yours, his breath whispering against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. you could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a rhythmic beat that echoed your own.
and then, like a whisper of reality, lamine's lips brushed against your ear. “I love you.”
your heart skipped a beat and you smiled, your voice barely audible. “I love you too.”
#cherrei writes#footballer imagine#footballer x reader#football imagine#fanfic#lamine yamal#lamine yamal x reader#lamine yamal fanfic#fc barcelona imagine#fc barcelona x reader#barcelona fc#lamine x reader#yamal x reader#footballer x you#football
214 notes
·
View notes
Note
May I have some some twisted glisten fluff please? :)
Warnings/Notes: fluff, this can be read like romantic or platonic, autophobia, it's short srry..
"Shh… It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, okay?" You retied the pink cloth around his wrists. He always wore it to keep himself from making sudden movements whenever the ichor made him "lose control" sometimes. You managed to keep it under control, so you trusted that tying the ribbon around his wrists could serve as a makeshift accessory.
He always loved to show off even the smallest thing.
A slow smile tugged at your lips as you remembered how he used to be before the ichor turned him into a bundle of nerves, filled with fears, especially a fear of loneliness. He’d grow terribly paranoid if you moved even a few inches away from him; the idea that you might leave him never left his mind.
At first, it scared you to be with him after he became what he is now, but you decided to give him a chance to control himself and not hurt you. Some toons disagreed, especially Dandy, but you made both a physical and mental effort to reassure them that you’d both be fine—that it would be like caring for a sick Glisten.
Besides, you were lucky that only on very rare occasions did other twisteds wander onto the same floor where you both stayed.
"I don’t want to be alone…"
His small, barely coherent whisper brought you back to reality, grounding you in the fact that you still held his wrists in your hands. You gently rubbed them, a faint attempt to soothe him when his fears took over.
“You’re not alone, I’m here with you. I always will be; I won’t leave your side.” You continued offering small reassurances, a smile on your face.
You could see a noticeable hesitation in his gaze, as if he were searching for the slightest hint of fear or deceit from you. You said nothing about it, simply waiting in silence for his response.
“Thanks.. It’s terrifying to be like this. I don’t want to be left alone, much less push you away because of my condition…” he said, his tone wavering, perhaps from the ichor or simply from the act of confessing something even the most prideful Glisten would never admit, especially to you.
These types of comments reminded you of how, before his corruption, Glisten rarely shared his insecurities, making moments like these surprising. He’d always been confident, never hesitating.
You gave his hands a small squeeze.
“You could never push me away, Glisten. In fact, I should be the one saying thank you, for staying by my side too.” You told him, never letting go of his hands. As cold as his touch felt, it was also comforting.
A faint, weak squeeze was returned to you.
You looked at him more closely and noticed that his eyes weren’t as red as they sometimes were. You felt relieved that the ichor hadn’t completely overtaken him and that he was strong enough, both mentally and physically, to control himself. You hoped that one day he could go back to being the toon he once was, but for now, it was your duty to care for him.
“Let’s see if we can find something we can both wear to match!” you offered, hoping to lift his spirits with something he enjoyed.
No matter how long it took for all your friends to return to how they once were, as long as you had Glisten by your side, with his mind still intact, everything would be okay.
You had each other.
#dandy's world x reader#glisten the mirror x reader#glisten x reader#dandy's world fanfic#twisted glisten x reader#dandys world x reader
196 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chasing Time, Finding Us
Alexia Putellas x Reader
It felt like you were living in parallel worlds. Your work projects were relentless, stretching your days into late nights. For Alexia, football consumed her time—matches, training, and travel kept her constantly on the go. The rare moments you shared had become fleeting, filled with rushed conversations and tired smiles. Though you tried not to let it show, a quiet fear gnawed at you. Were you slowly losing each other to the demands of your busy lives?
And, though she never said it outright, you could see it in her eyes that Alexia felt it too.
Then, on a rare afternoon when she wasn’t at practice and you weren’t glued to your laptop, Alexia surprised you.
“Next Saturday,” she said, her voice firm yet tender, “you and I are taking a day for us. No work, no football, no distractions.”
You glanced at her, startled by the sudden declaration. “A whole day?”
“Yes,” she said, her lips curving into a soft smile. “I’m planning everything. All you have to do is show up.”
The tension in your shoulders eased at her words. You didn’t realize how much you needed this until she offered it. “You’re serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious,” she said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “We need this, cariño. I need this.”
---
The week leading up to Saturday was both a blur and a buzz of anticipation. You tried more than once to get Alexia to reveal her plans, but she was steadfast in her secrecy.
“It’s a surprise,” she’d say with an amused smirk, dodging your questions effortlessly. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
And so, you waited, your excitement building with each passing day.
Finally, Saturday arrived. Alexia picked you up early in the morning, dressed casually in a fitted white tee and light jeans that somehow made her look effortlessly stunning. She had that mischievous glint in her eye, the one that always made your heart skip a beat.
“You ready?” she asked as you climbed into the car.
“For whatever you have planned? Always,” you replied, trying to sound confident, though your curiosity was eating at you.
She laughed at your thinly veiled attempts to figure out the destination, brushing off your questions with a shake of her head. “Patience, amor. You’ll see soon enough.”
---
The first stop was a quaint cafe tucked away on a quiet street, the kind of place you’d never have found on your own. The smell of fresh pastries and brewing coffee welcomed you as you walked inside. The two of you picked a cozy corner table, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the weight of your busy lives begin to lift.
Over breakfast, you talked about everything and nothing. Alexia shared stories about her teammates that made you laugh until your stomach hurt, and you told her about your latest work project, her eyes lighting up with pride at your achievements.
“I miss this,” you admitted softly, stirring your coffee.
Alexia reached across the table, her hand covering yours. “I know. That’s why we’re here—to remember how much we mean to each other.”
Her words stayed with you as she led you back to the car, her hand never letting go of yours.
---
The next destination was the beach. As you approached the shoreline, your jaw dropped at the sight of the clear blue waves and the golden sand stretching endlessly before you. Alexia had thought of everything—her car was packed with towels, sunscreen, snacks, and even a volleyball.
“Did you bring the entire apartment?” you joked as she unloaded the supplies.
“Only the essentials,” she quipped, tossing you a bottle of water with a wink.
“You thought of everything,” you said, your voice filled with awe.
“I told you,” she replied with a wink. “I don’t do things halfway.”
The day unfolded like a dream. You played volleyball, your laughter ringing out as you both competed fiercely—though you suspected Alexia let you win a few points.
Next, you switched to football. Watching Alexia with a ball at her feet was mesmerizing—she was in her element, her movements fluid and precise. But even as she showcased her skills, she never stopped teasing you, giving you just enough room to score a goal.
“Not bad,” she said with mock seriousness when you managed to slip the ball past her.
“Not bad? That was a perfect goal!” you shot back, earning a grin from her.
---
When the sun reached its peak, you both retreated to the cool ocean waves. The water was refreshing, and it wasn’t long before you were splashing Alexia, your laughter echoing across the beach.
“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” she said, lunging toward you with a playful grin.
You tried to escape, but she was too quick, wrapping her arms around you and lifting you off your feet.
“Lex!” you squealed, laughing uncontrollably as she spun you around.
She set you down gently, her hands lingering on your waist. Her gaze softened, and in that moment, the world seemed to pause.
“I love you,” she said, her voice steady and full of emotion.
You smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. “I love you too.”
---
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found yourselves lying on a blanket Alexia had spread out on the sand. You leaned against her, her arms securely wrapped around you.
“This is perfect,” you whispered, watching the sun dip below the horizon.
“You deserve perfect,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.
But the day wasn’t over yet. As night fell, Alexia led you to a secluded spot further down the beach. String lights twinkled overhead, casting a soft glow over a small table set with dinner. The sight left you speechless.
“When did you even set this up?” you asked, looking around in awe.
“A magician never reveals her secrets,” she said with a grin, pulling out a chair for you.
Dinner was simple but delicious, the conversation flowing as easily as the wine. Afterward, Alexia took your hand, pulling you to your feet.
“Dance with me?” she asked softly.
There was no music except the gentle sound of the waves, but it didn’t matter. You swayed together under the string lights, her arms holding you close.
“You really thought of everything,” you said, your voice tinged with awe.
“I just wanted to make you happy,” she replied, her eyes locking with yours. “We’ve been so busy, and I needed to remind you that no matter how crazy life gets, you’ll always be my priority.”
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but they were tears of joy. You leaned up to kiss her, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude into the gesture.
---
As the night wore on, you lay together under the stars, her arms wrapped securely around you. The day had been everything you needed and more—a reminder of the bond that held you together, even when life tried to pull you apart.
In the quiet of the night, with Alexia’s steady heartbeat beneath your ear, you felt a deep sense of peace. This was love, you realized—not just the grand gestures, but the quiet, unwavering commitment to making time for each other, no matter what.
And as you drifted off to sleep in her arms, you knew one thing for certain: no matter how busy life got, you and Alexia would always find your way back to each other.
#alexia putellas x reader#woso community#woso#woso fics#barca femeni#woso x reader#alexia putellas fanfic#alexia x reader
180 notes
·
View notes
Text
MY CHAEBOL BULLY, IS CRAZY OVER ME
YANDERE SOHYUN X MALE READER
The bell rang, signaling the end of another school day. Students poured out of classrooms, chatting and laughing as they made their way home. Sohyun, the queen bee of the school, leaned against her locker, surrounded by her usual entourage of admirers. Her designer bag hung casually on her shoulder, a testament to her family's wealth and influence.
"Yah, new kid!" she called out, her sharp voice cutting through the chatter.
Y/n froze mid-step, his heart sinking. He had been hoping to avoid her today, but it seemed fate had other plans.
"Yes, you!" Sohyun smirked, walking toward him with a confident swagger. Her friends giggled behind her, eager to see what she had planned.
"What do you want, Sohyun?" Y/n asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Sohyun tilted her head, pretending to think. "Hmm, let's see... I just remembered how funny it was when you tripped over your own feet during gym class. What was that about, huh?"
The group burst into laughter, and Y/n clenched his fists, biting back a retort.
"You're pathetic," she sneered, flicking his forehead. "Try not to embarrass yourself tomorrow, okay?"
Satisfied, she turned and sauntered off, her laughter echoing through the hallway.
Later that evening, as Sohyun walked toward her family's sleek black car parked in an empty lot, she felt a chill run down her spine. The sound of footsteps echoed behind her, too many to belong to just one person.
"Hey, princess," a rough voice called out.
Sohyun spun around, her heart racing. A group of older boys stood behind her, their expressions leering.
"What do you want?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.
"You've been flaunting that pretty little face around for too long," one of them said, stepping closer. "Thought we'd give you a reality check."
Panic gripped Sohyun as they surrounded her. She tried to scream, but one of them clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Let her go!"
The voice was unfamiliar yet firm. The group turned to see Y/n standing a few feet away, his fists clenched and determination blazing in his eyes.
"Oh, look who it is," one of the boys sneered. "The little hero."
"Leave her alone," Y/n growled, stepping closer.
"And what are you gonna do about it?"
Before Y/n could respond, one of the boys lunged at him. The fight was brutal and one-sided. Y/n swung wildly, managing to land a few hits, but he was no match for the group.
Sohyun watched in horror as they punched and kicked him, his blood staining the pavement.
"Stop it!" she screamed, but her voice was drowned out by the chaos.
The fight only ended when the sound of a police siren cut through the air. The boys scattered, leaving Y/n crumpled on the ground. Sohyun ran to his side, her heart pounding as she knelt next to him.
"Y/n?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
His face was battered, his lip split, and his breathing labored, but his eyes fluttered open. "You... okay?" he rasped.
Tears filled her eyes as she nodded. "Why did you do that? Why did you risk yourself for me?"
He gave her a weak smile. "Didn't want to see you get hurt."
At the hospital, Sohyun sat beside Y/n's stretcher in the ambulance, her usual confident demeanor shattered. Her hands trembled as she reached out to his, hesitating before finally resting her fingers on his bruised knuckles.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Y/n, too weak to respond, closed his eyes.
As the siren wailed and the city lights blurred past, Sohyun found herself staring at him, her mind racing. This was the boy she had mocked, tormented, and humiliated. And yet, he had protected her without hesitation, sacrificing his own safety.
Her heart ached in a way she didn't understand. For the first time, Sohyun felt something other than contempt toward someone.
She tightened her grip on his hand, her voice shaking as she murmured, "I'll make this up to you. I swear."
The days that followed were different. Sohyun found herself replaying the moment Y/n had stepped in to save her. She remembered his bloodied face, his quiet strength, and the way he had smiled at her even in his pain.
It was maddening.
And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about him. The boy she once saw as beneath her was now the center of her world.
"I'll protect you now," she whispered to herself, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
Her lips curled into a smile. Y/n didn't realize it yet, but he belonged to her now.
Y/n groaned softly, the throbbing pain in his body dragging him out of unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered open, the bright white of the hospital ceiling blinding him for a moment. Slowly, the room came into focus—the steady beeping of a heart monitor, the faint smell of antiseptic, and...
Sohyun?
He blinked again, his heart skipping a beat as he recognized her. She was slumped in a chair beside his bed, her arms crossed and her head resting against them. Her usually perfect hair was disheveled, her expression peaceful in sleep.
LWhy is she here?
Y/n shifted slightly, the movement making his sore muscles protest. The slight sound of the bedsheets rustling was enough to wake her. Sohyun stirred, blinking groggily as she lifted her head.
“Y/n?” she mumbled, her voice soft and uncharacteristically vulnerable.
He didn’t respond immediately, too stunned to say anything.
As she fully woke up, her eyes softened, and a small smile spread across her face. “You’re awake.”
Y/n nodded weakly, unsure of how to process this version of Sohyun. She seemed different—gone was the sharp, mocking edge he had grown accustomed to.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly.
“For what?” he croaked, his throat dry.
“For saving me,” she replied, her gaze dropping to her hands. “If it weren’t for you...”
She trailed off, her words hanging heavy in the air.
“I-i-it's... fine,” Y/n said hesitantly, forcing a small smile despite the lingering fear in his chest.
But Sohyun wasn’t done. She leaned forward, her fingers brushing against his bruised cheek. Y/n stiffened at her touch, his instincts screaming at him to pull away, but his body refused to move.
“You’re still afraid of me, aren’t you?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a strange mix of regret and amusement.
He didn’t answer, his silence confirming her suspicion.
“That’s okay,” she murmured, her fingers lingering on his face. “I don’t blame you. I haven’t exactly been kind to you, have I?”
Y/n’s heart raced as her gaze locked onto his. Her usual fiery confidence had shifted into something softer, yet infinitely more dangerous.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “About what happened. About you.”
“Sohyun, I—”
“Let me finish,” she interrupted gently but firmly. “That night... seeing you like that, seeing what you were willing to do for me... I realized something.”
She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Y/n’s eyes widened, panic bubbling in his chest.
“I want you to be mine,” she said, her voice steady but filled with an intensity that made his stomach twist. “And there’s nothing that will stop me from making that happen.”
He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “Sohyun, you don’t mean that. You’re just—”
“Don’t,” she said sharply, cutting him off. Her fingers trailed down to his jaw, holding him in place as her eyes bored into his. “Don’t try to tell me how I feel. I know what I want, Y/n. And what I want... is *you.*”
He stared at her, his mind racing. The girl who had tormented him, humiliated him, was now confessing her feelings with an intensity that left him speechless.
“You saved me,” she continued, her voice softening again. “No one’s ever done that for me before. And now that I’ve seen what you’re willing to do for me... I can’t let you go.”
“Sohyun, this isn’t—”
“Fair?” she finished for him, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Maybe not. But I don’t care. I’ve already made up my mind.”
Her hand lingered on his face for a moment longer before she pulled back, her expression softening.
“You’ll understand eventually,” she said, her tone almost soothing. “You’ll see that this is what’s best for both of us.”
Y/n’s breath hitched as she leaned in, her lips brushing lightly against his forehead.
“Rest for now,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of everything.”
As she sat back down, her eyes never leaving him, Y/n felt a chill run down his spine. He had saved Sohyun that night, but now he wondered if he had doomed himself in the process.
Y/n finally returned home after being discharged from the hospital. His body ached with every movement, but the relief of being in the safety of his own space soothed him. He dropped his bag by the door and shuffled toward his room, muttering a soft greeting to his parents before collapsing onto his bed.
But his peace didn’t last long.
The doorbell rang sharply, echoing through the house. Y/n’s parents exchanged a confused look before his father opened the door. Standing there, smiling as though she owned the place, was Sohyun.
“Good evening,” she said sweetly, bowing slightly. “I’m Sohyun. I wanted to properly introduce myself.”
Y/n’s mother appeared at the door, her eyes widening as she recognized the name. “Sohyun... You’re not the daughter of *that* chaebol family, are you?”
Sohyun smiled politely but with an edge. “Yes, my parents own the Daehan Group.”
Y/n’s parents froze. Their mouths opened, then shut, their expressions flickering between shock and forced cheerfulness.
“Oh, what an... honor,” Y/n’s father stammered. “To what do we owe this visit?”
Sohyun’s smile widened, and her voice turned honeyed yet possessive. “I’m here to let you know that Y/n and I are dating now.”
The announcement hung in the air, shocking everyone but Sohyun.
“D-d-dating?” Y/n’s mother repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.
“Yes,” Sohyun said firmly, stepping into the house without waiting for an invitation. “I care deeply for him, and I wanted to make sure you knew how important he is to me.”
Y/n’s parents exchanged a glance. It was clear they were unnerved, but the weight of Sohyun’s family name pressed heavily on their shoulders.
“Well,” Y/n’s father said after a tense moment. “That’s wonderful news.”
“Yes, wonderful,” Y/n’s mother echoed, her smile forced. “Please, come in. Can we get you anything?”
Sohyun shook her head politely. “No, thank you. I just wanted to check on Y/n. Is he home?”
“Oh, he’s resting,” his mother said quickly, but Sohyun’s determined expression left no room for argument.
“Good,” she said, her voice dropping an octave. “I’ll just check on him myself.”
---
Y/n was half-asleep when his bedroom door creaked open. He stirred slightly, his body too exhausted to react. He assumed it was his mother checking on him, so he mumbled a faint, “I’m fine.”
But then he felt a hand brush against his cheek.
His eyes fluttered open, and he froze when he saw Sohyun leaning over him, her face mere inches from his.
“S-Sohyun?” he whispered, his voice thick with sleep and panic.
“Shh,” she cooed, her fingers trailing down his jawline. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just couldn’t leave without seeing you.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his heart pounding.
She smiled, her eyes soft but glinting with something far darker. “I told your parents about us. They were so supportive. Isn’t that nice?”
Y/n’s mind raced. “You... what?”
Sohyun leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I couldn’t wait any longer, Y/n. I needed to be near you.”
Before he could protest, she cupped his face and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was deep and lingering, a mixture of passion and possessiveness that made Y/n’s head spin.
He tried to pull away, but her grip on him was firm, her fingers threading through his hair as she held him in place.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes were filled with a terrifying intensity.
“You’re mine now,” she whispered, her breath warm against his lips. “And nothing will ever change that.”
Y/n stared at her, his body frozen in shock and fear.
Sohyun smiled sweetly, brushing his hair back like he was the most precious thing in the world. “Rest well, my love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As she stood and left his room, Y/n’s heart raced, the weight of her words sinking in. He was trapped in her web now, and no matter how much he wanted to escape, he knew there was no way out.
Sohyun’s devotion was absolute. And in her mind, they were destined to be together—no matter the cost.
The halls of the school were eerily quiet as Sohyun strode through them, her hand gripping Y/n’s wrist like a vice. Students parted like the Red Sea, their eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and awe. Sohyun’s aura, already commanding, now radiated something far darker—an unspoken threat that no one dared to challenge.
“Move,” she barked at a group of underclassmen blocking her path. They scrambled aside without hesitation, their heads bowed.
Y/n trailed behind her, his expression blank but his eyes betraying his unease. Every so often, he glanced at the people staring at them, but he knew better than to resist.
Sohyun stopped abruptly, causing Y/n to stumble slightly. She turned to him, her expression softening only for him.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice dripping with concern.
“I-i-i'm fine,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.
Her grip on his wrist loosened slightly, but she didn’t let go. “Good. You need to eat. Let’s go to the cafeteria.”
“I’m not hungry,” he replied, his voice barely audible.
Sohyun frowned, her eyes narrowing. “Y/n,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You need to take care of yourself. For me.”
Y/n sighed and nodded, knowing there was no use fighting her.
As they entered the cafeteria, the atmosphere was electric. Whispers spread like wildfire, students craning their necks to watch the school’s queen bee and her new “boyfriend.” But the curiosity was laced with fear, especially after the recent news.
The criminals who had attacked Sohyun that night had been found dead, their bodies dumped near a ferry harbor. The police called it a "gang dispute," but the rumors swirling through the school told a different story.
“She had something to do with it,” one student whispered.
“Of course she did. Did you see how protective she’s been of him?”
“Don’t mess with her, or you’ll end up like them.”
Sohyun ignored the whispers, her focus entirely on Y/n. She led him to a table near the corner, where they could sit in relative privacy.
“Eat,” she said, placing a tray of food in front of him.
Y/n hesitated, but her expectant gaze forced him to comply. As he took small bites, Sohyun leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his arm.
“You’re safe now,” she murmured, her voice low and possessive. “No one will ever hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.”
Y/n didn’t respond, but his silence didn’t bother her. She smiled, satisfied, and leaned back in her chair, surveying the room like a queen overlooking her kingdom.
Later that day, Sohyun stood by the window of an empty classroom, her phone pressed to her ear.
“Is everything handled?” she asked, her voice calm but cold.
“Yes, Miss Sohyun,” the voice on the other end replied. “There won’t be any loose ends.”
“Good,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’ve done well. Keep the rest of the team on standby. I’ll have more tasks for you soon.”
She ended the call and turned to see Y/n standing hesitantly in the doorway.
“Come here,” she said, her tone softening instantly.
He approached cautiously, his shoulders tense.
Sohyun reached out and took his hand, pulling him close. “You’ve given me purpose, Y/n,” she said, her eyes filled with a dangerous mix of love and obsession. “Together, we’re going to build something incredible. This is just the beginning.”
Y/n’s breath hitched as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear.
“You’re mine, Y/n,” she whispered. “Forever.”
As the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Sohyun tightened her grip on his hand and led him out of the room. The whispers followed them, but Sohyun didn’t care.
This was her empire, and Y/n was the center of it. Nothing—and no one—would ever take him away from her.
- The End -
#kpop#kpop x reader#kpop x y/n#x male reader#beautiful#yandere#yandere stories#sohyun triples#triples sohyun#triples#park sohyun#sohyun x reader#yandere blog#yandere girl#yandere x reader#update
214 notes
·
View notes
Text
let me be your shelter || astarion/gn!tav
This is the result of an especially hectic exam season. I started writing this fic instead of having a meltdown lol Now that I have more time again, I decided to finish it :) I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: hurt/comfort (mostly comfort), gn!Tav (can be read as a self-insert), Tav/Reader is the one being comforted
Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader
Wordcount: 1.5k
Summary: You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. Even after everything you'd been through, you put on a brave face. All the way up until you couldn't.
Luckily, Astarion's always there to pick up the pieces.
ao3 link
The sun was setting outside when you finally closed the front door of your house behind you, cloaking the entrance corridor in darkness. The straps of your pack were digging quite painfully into your shoulder, no doubt leaving angry marks on your skin. You threw it to the floor with a huff and closed your eyes for a moment,
The day's exhaustion rolled off of you in waves; hours worth of dust and grime stuck to your clothes and skin. Rebuilding the city after the Battle of Baldur’s Gate was a noble cause. It being noble, however, didn’t make it any less exhausting.
You tried running your fingers through your hair, but your hand almost got stuck in it instead. The firm tug against your scalp made your eyes water. Your back was on fire, your legs were on fire, your face was tacky with drying sweat. It was all so much, too much.
Curling up in a corner and staying there until the sun fell out of the sky seemed worryingly appealing. I still have to go back out there tomorrow, though, you thought. The ugly, choking pressure in your throat got tighter and tighter. Your eyes, still clenched shut, brimmed with tears.
‘Darling?’ called a familiar voice from somewhere on the other side of the corridor. ‘Why are you just standing there? At least light a candle or something. It’s not like you can see like this,’ the voice continued, getting closer.
There was the hiss of a match being lit; one, two, three candles lit up the darkness.
‘Well, not that you can see much with your eyes closed, anyway,’ said Astarion. All snark left his voice when he saw the first tears roll down your cheeks. ‘Oh, I wasn’t that mean, was I? Why are you crying, love?’
‘I-I’m sorry.’ Your voice broke. ‘I don’t- don’t know why, I’m just- just so…’ you trailed off as the first sobs tore out of your chest.
Just a few months ago, Astarion would be looking like a deer in headlights right about now. He still remembered the very first time you broke down after the whole Absolute-tadpole nonsense was over. After everyone else went their separate ways and you chose to stay to help rebuild the city and he chose to stay with you. Naturally.
The breakdown happened soon after. The second night the two of you slept in your brand new bed in your brand new house, the dam inside you just broke, shattered into pieces; and you were swept up in the current of the build-up grief and fear.
Astarion, as much as he loathed to admit it, panicked. He had no idea how to comfort people; after all, it wasn’t a skill necessary for survival for most of his life, so he never really bothered to learn it. He still hadn’t even after whatever the two of you shared at first turned more serious. You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. The stable one. The stable one never gets to cry, so you didn’t.
As ashamed as Astarion was when he realized it, he hadn’t even thought you could cry. It just never really crossed his mind.
Luckily for the both of you, he loved you far too much not to learn from his mistakes after that very first night of the rest of your life. He’d like to think he got comforting you down to a science.
‘Would you like a hug, my sweet?’ Step one was almost always physical contact. And not just because holding you became one of his favorite pastimes; rather, it was grounding for you to have something to hold onto when you got like this. Astarion would gladly volunteer to be that something whenever he could.
You didn’t trust your voice enough to answer, so you just nodded instead. You were starting to tremble; rarely a good sign. Whatever stress-induced breakdown was happening would probably be a big one.
Astarion knew better than to try to wrestle you from the spot you were standing in. It would do nothing except agitate you further, so he simply walked up to you and gathered you into his arms.
The moment you were close enough to hide your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs that had been building up inside you this entire time wrecked your body. You were wailing loudly; so loudly you’d be embarrassed if you had enough energy left in you to care.
Astarion winced slightly at first — you were close enough to his ear for it to hurt. Still, he held you closer, firmer. Just enough pressure to help you calm down.
Eventually, your wailing died down to sobbing, and sobbing turned into soft sniffling. He tried to run a hand through your hair; his fingers nearly got stuck in it, just like yours before.
‘Would you say no to a bath, darling?’ he said, voice soft and quiet. ‘I got some new scented oils a few days ago. I even paid for them this time.’
That got a small chuckle out of you. Your throat was raw and your face was even more sticky now; a bath sounded wonderful.
‘I’d rather like a bath, I think.’ Your voice was all scratchy. You’d probably have one hell of a time trying to speak tomorrow.
‘Come on, then.’ Astarion kissed the top of your head and gently pried you away from his neck.
Usually you were the one leading him everywhere; he supposed in moments like these it was his turn to lead you instead. He walked you to the bathroom, holding your hand. And he didn’t even comment on the snot you left on his shirt, which was a great show of understanding on his part — as far as he was concerned — although he did take it off and throw it in the laundry basket as soon as the two of you entered the bathroom. All his love for you didn’t mean he’d be okay running about in a snotted-up shirt.
He sat you down on the floor near the bathtub and filled it with water. He smelled each of the new scented oils with great consideration. The last thing you probably wanted at the moment was having to pick which oil to put in your bath, so he wanted to make the choice for you — and to make the right one.
After the bath was all prepared, Astarion helped you out of your clothes and walked you to the corner of the bathroom, where he washed most of the dirt off your skin. Making sure you could properly relax also meant making sure you wouldn’t be soaking in dirty water, after all.
Soon enough, you were sitting in the bathtub with your eyes closed. Right after helping you inside the bath, Astarion ran off to grab your favorite hairbrush. And now, he busied himself with detangling the mess your hair had become over the course of your day. He talked and talked all the while — about his day, about this awful thief he managed to thwart the other night, about the shopping trip he went on the day before — about everything and nothing, just to keep talking. Just to fill the silence with noise that would drown out your screaming, tired mind. He didn’t expect you to answer; it was enough that you listened.
After your hair was brushed, washed and conditioned, Astarion dried you off and brought you a freshly washed set of pajamas.
‘You need to sleep, darling,’ he said, handing you the clothes. He knew you were far too tired to argue with him on that. As endearing as your usual desire to stay up with him for as long as possible was, you needed rest — badly.
‘Will you stay with me?’ you said. You felt much better now that all the grime was off of you, but the thought of laying in bed alone made you want to cry all over again.
‘As if I’d ever leave,’ scoffed Astarion as he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom.
The coldness of his bare chest was a much needed comfort. You nuzzled closer to him as he threw a thick blanket over the two of you. He reached over to his bedside table.
‘I could read for you, if you’d like.’
You mumbled out a ‘yes’. Your eyelids were so very heavy, but the idea of hearing Astarion’s voice rumble in his chest right against your cheek sounded lovely.
He chuckled to himself. ‘You’re adorable when you’re tired.’
He started reading. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was reading, rather to the sound of his voice itself. The individual words and sentences blurred into one, continuous rumble. Listening to him speak felt like falling deeper and deeper into a pile of the softest pillows.
You were out before Astarion could finish the first fifteen pages of the book. He noticed by the end of page twenty. When he did, he gently put away the book and held you tighter against him. And he may or may not have left a few kisses on your forehead, but that’s neither here nor there.
Astarion got comforting you down to a science. And he was damn proud that he was the one you trusted to comfort you in the first place.
#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#gn!reader#gn!tav#unnamed tav#fluff#domestic fluff#hurt/comfort#fluff and angst#bg3#astarion#my writing#bg3 astarion#bg3 x tav#bg3 x reader#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 astarion#second person pov
662 notes
·
View notes
Text
˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙➛ I am right here!
Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader
Summary: Physically seen but never romantically.
Genre: Highschool!Au, a bit angsty
Note: There are some grammatical errors and this is not proofread.. Finally back to writing!! Hope you guys like and enjoy this. Got Caught up in my work that i forgot to write and was mentally drained to even do so. But now i am back at it again and be sure to read all of the updates I'll be uploading!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist
─────── ─ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚─ ───────
It was your free period so you've decided to go to the library and catch up on your other lessons. You were the only person there, so everything was perfect; it was quiet and the atmosphere was just right. The peacefulness surrounded you like a warm embrace─ it was relaxing and comforting.
Suddenly a loud bang from the doors and paddles of feet could be heard from across the room.
Well, so much for peace and quiet.
You didn't even have to check who it was that made the noise. You already knew who it was, correction who he was.
"Guess what y/n/n~" Oscar beamed─ Jumping at the seat next to you.
You flickered your eyes from your book to his. Slowly examining his whole figure.
He had this goofy grin plastered across his face and his smile widens even more as he speaks, you can practically hear the joy radiating from his voice.
God that smile is just so contagious, it matches so well with his angelic tone.
The look that you gave him definitely screams 'uninterested' but of course that's only the expression you show him.
Unbeknownst to Oscar all the deep feelings you want to further express to him.
You softly put down your book to the side and diverted all your attention at the man sitting beside you.
"What? Is there a reason why you look awfully like an idiot right now?" You answered, acting all cold and mundane as possible.
Oscar rolled his eyes and gently nudged your shoulders. "Why do you always frown like that, you know, you're way prettier when you smile."
And why do you always make my heart go crazy with those words??
You shrugged nonchalantly, "it's because you're super annoying and not very smile worthy."
"Ha Ha, real funny y/n, you crack me up" Oscar said sarcastically making you giggle softly. "Anyways, i have good news."
You stopped and raised your brows─ signaling for him to continue.
He took the hint and continued what he was going to say, "You know how I've been courting lily for the past few months now?"
Your smile soon fades and your demeanor quickly shifts as you try your best not to falter.
The reality was quick to weigh down on you. Crushing and crumbling your heart with each truthfulness.
From out of sight, you were gripping your thighs to stop the tears from going down, so much that it will probably bruise later.
You rolled your eyes jokingly, "I remember, only because you wouldn't stop talking about her, you lover boy" you spoke weakly─ punching his shoulders playfully to make it seem that it hadn't affected you.
"what about it?" You asked, even though you know where this conversation was heading.
Oscar couldn't contain his excitement and happily blurted out his words, "SHE FINALLY SAID YES."
Your lips subtly quiver and your eyes start to gloss. You knew where this was going so why does it hurt so bad?
"Wow uhm..i am so happy for you osc" you croaked, feeling your voice crack a little.
"I just feel so lucky to have her" Oscar sighed─ the smile on his face says it all.
He then went on and on about how she said yes and what he felt at the time. He was so busy talking about his feelings that he couldn't see yours.
You were smiling, yet your eyes tells another story.
He kept on talking, saying just how happy he was. "And then when she said yes, my heart just stopped beating and everything was in slow motion"
That's what i feel everyday with you.
His voice seemed to blend in the background and all you could hear was the ringing silence of loneliness.
You nod your head every now and then to what he was saying, despite not listening to what he was actually rambling on about.
You then abruptly cut him off and stood up, "uh i am sorry Osc but, i forgot that me and alex have this thing."
"What is it? Maybe i can help?" He offered, his eyes softening at your sudden reaction.
God, don't look at me with those eyes.
You shook your head and averted your eyes, ignoring his looks of concern. You didn't want him to see you like that. Not like this.
Don't fall for it y/n, he's just concerned as a Friend.
Without saying a word you quickly grabbed your things and scurried away from him. Leaving Oscar confused and dumbfounded.
...
You hurriedly ran to the nearest rest room─avoiding all the people that were in the way. Not wanting them to take a glance at your now tear eyed face.
As soon as you close the cubicle door, your whole body just went limp. Not having any energy anymore.
And you were now balling your eyes out on the ground─ bitting your lips, to stifle the cries that were escaping from your trembling mouth.
You were stupid enough to think that there was something going to happen between you and Oscar. It's your fault, for falling at his rosy sweet words, even though you knew deep down inside that he only meant that as a friend.
...
Short cause it got deleted ON MY FIRST DRAFT. Hope u enjoyed tho
#imagine#fanfic#oneshot#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one#red bull f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar x reader
193 notes
·
View notes
Note
So what do we think about that draft where jean kill himself on the phone with kevin ? Or an au where kevin off himself because he couldn’t handle riko’s and jean’s death?
(coming back from my mini mental health break to drop... this. uuhhh cw for jean kills himself on the phone with Kevin sorry)
-
It was late when Kevin's phone rang, loud enough to startle him from a light sleep, a half enjoyed Exy match still playing on his laptop.
Jean
Kevin paused the video.
Why was Jean calling him at this time of night? He should've been sleeping - No, at practice. Maybe he had just finished. Which schedule was he even on, now?
He pressed the green button to answer, but the feeling of something off came much quicker than any voice that would have followed. Dead air, for a moment too long, an electronic hiss, and Jean didn't speak.
"Hello?" Kevin answered, hearing a movement as he held the phone to his ear. "Jean, did you mean to call me?"
Jean laughed, a weak laugh, short and muffled. "I didn't think you'd actually pick up. That makes this all worse, doesn't it?"
His words were not English, instead French, spoken too loudly to be a secret. Kevin sat up and looked at the time again to make sure it was really as late as he thought it was. Maybe it's nothing, he comforted himself with a lie, a way of ignoring the churning feeling in his stomach that something wasn't quite right.
Jean's breathing was heavy, accompanied with a hum every few seconds, less of a happy sound, more of a struggle to keep quiet in whatever pain he was feeling.
"Why are you calling me?" Kevin whispered, like he might be heard if he didn't speak quietly. "Where is he?"
Jean laughed again, taking an inhale into the deepest parts of his lungs, before he said, "It doesn't matter."
"It does," Jean's uncharacteristic lack of care as to the king's whereabouts worried Kevin - If Riko wasn't with him... Kevin looked at the time again and again, trying to remember Riko's schedule. Why couldn't he remember?
Where was he, and why was Jean alone?
His question came out cautious. "What's going on?"
"Nothing that you can change," Jean's sigh was tired, a dismissal mixed with pessimism and hopelessness. "It's already done."
"What is?"
His heart started to pound in his chest, pushed by the tone of Jean voice, speaking french out loud without a care, no fear in his voice, but something different taking its place; Kevin was afraid, scared of the truth. Jean would never be so careless - so reckless and nonchalant. Something was wrong, so very wrong, and putting two and two together only left Kevin with too many questions and a rope around his chest.
"I hoped you wouldn't answer." Jean's voice cracked as he spoke, and Kevin shut his eyes at the sound. "I'm not even sure why I called in the first place, but ah. Here we are."
"Stop that. Where the fuck are you?"
"Only where i was always going to end up." He laughed, but instead of an awful, awkward sound, behind the laugh was thinly veiled pain. Something hurt. Jean was in pain, and Riko wasn't around, and Kevin started to pace, like he would find the answer somewhere else around the room.
Jean swallowed hard before continuing, "I would ask you how to say goodbye but you're not known to afford such courtesies, are you?"
Kevin stopped. "Goodbye?"
"Ah, so you do know how to say it," The sigh that followed had something behind it, something wistful, something painful, something... final. "Goodbye," he spoke in english, before a shaky inhale brought him back into French. "Are you happy?"
"With what?"
"Everything." His breath blew loudly through the mic of his phone. "With who you are, away from this place. In general, Kevin, are you happy now?"
Kevin hesitated. "Sometimes."
Jean hummed. "Better than never."
"What did you do?"
Jean doesn't respond immediately, and Kevin knew then what he hadn't wanted to know at all. He didn't want to know, he didn't want to assume, but then the sound of a sniffle and a low cry followed, and Kevin felt his heart start to break.
"What did you do, Jean?" He asked again, no louder than a whisper this time, quiet enough that he could hear Jean's whimper as he started to gently cry.
"Will you stay with me?" Jean replied, a swallow in his throat, the phone being placed down somewhere. "I don't want to die alone."
"Let me call someone," Kevin begged. "Why? Why would you- Why? You promised. You promised."
"Be quiet." He pleaded, and Kevin covered his mouth with his free hand. Was this happening? Jean's words were not as angry as his tone would have suggested, instead a soft quiver in his voice, as he tried to hold back the tears that Kevin pictured rolling down his face. "Just stay with me or fuck off and don't let my last thought of you be that you're an insufferable bitch."
Kevin almost laughed.
He almost laughed, knowing what was happening, knowing Jean was fading away on the other line, as he cried, dealing with whatever he'd done to himself, however it was happening.
"Tell me something I don't know," His accented voice was getting weaker with every agonising second that passed. "Talk to me."
Jean knew everything about him, almost everything, so much so that he couldn't think of something new, something that he didn't know. This was his only light in a dungeon of darkness, and that light was fading quicker than he'd left him alone all those months ago. It was not comfort Jean was looking for, but perhaps company, or a presence, just to believe that someone cared, to feel like someone was there at the end of it all. He didn't really want to know Kevin's trivia and fun facts; He said it himself - he didn't want to die alone.
"Don't do this to me," It was all that he could say, a desperate, despaired attempt, no other words meaningful enough to get him to change his mind. "Let me help you."
"You can't," Jean responded. "Not this time."
And Kevin knew that it was the truth.
He thought for a moment. What was he even supposed to do? He thought about calling for help anyway - on the one hand desperate to keep him alive, while on the other hand knowing what would be waiting for him on the other side of survival. There were no scenarios in which Jean would prosper. If Kevin called for help, it would have caused a scene, and he swore he could already hear the cracking of bones under the Master's cane, and the muffled screams that would follow.
Kevin pictured a fate almost worse than death in every attempt to end that night differently; Jean's choice had been made - this was it, and this was his goodbye.
The understanding did not make the reality any easier to digest, though. Instead it sat heavy in his stomach, weighing him down, into the fabric of the sheets he sank back down into.
"I'm sorry," He said. "I've never said that to you before. I wish i never left you."
"I don't," Jean had started to slur his words. "You deserve to be happy. Even just sometimes."
"You do too."
Jean clicked his tongue, but he didn't comment.
Perhaps he knew it was what he deserved, but it had always been more of a mythical concept than anything achievable. He knew what that darkness felt like, the familiar sound of those swirling spirals, the thoughts of can I live like this forever? that fueled the fire to bring him to this point.
The silence on the phone line lasted for an uncomfortable moment too long.
“Jean?”
Jean mumbled his response after another long pause. “Mmm?”
“Tell me something,” Kevin turned his question back on him. “Something that nobody knows about you.”
Jean’s laugh was so weak it could barely be considered a laugh anymore; more an exhale of air with something behind it. “I wanted to be a writer. Before all of this.”
“What would you write?”
Jean thought for a moment. “Poems. Things nobody would ever read. Sometimes…”
Kevin’s heart started thumping again as Jean trailed off into a mumbling silence. “Sometimes..?” He prompted him.
“Hmm?”
“What would you write other than poems?”
“Something for the theatre,” His words were slow and tired. “Something to be… performed.”
“What kind of stories?”
“Ah.” Jean sucked in a long, laboured breath. “Dramas. Something to leave… Mmm-” There’s a dull thud on the other end of the line. He couldn't hold back his quiet groan. “Something…”
“Jean.” Kevin wanted to tell him to be quiet, to wake up, to perk up. He wanted to tell Jean that his joke wasn’t funny and he was waiting for the punchline to come.
“Kevin.” He said, long and drawn out, twice the length it needs to be.
“Did you ever show anyone? Your stories?”
“Only Elodie.” His sisters name rolled off his tongue with a wet, gentle cry. “My actress.”
Kevin thought about her then, not knowing where her brother is, not knowing that he was dying on the other end of the phone.
“Did she like them?” When Jean didn't respond, Kevin raised his voice. “Jean.”
“Mmhmm,” He answered, not much of an answer at all. More of an acknowledgment of his quickly dimming consciousness, a murmur of life to prove he was still there. “Can’t talk much longer.”
“I know.” The painful acceptance left his mouth with a bitterness Kevin couldn't quite describe. “Tell me about her. Elodie.”
“I wish…” Jean spoke through almost shut lips, and Kevin winced at the sound of sleepiness as it started to consume him. “All alone.” He finished a thought he never spoke out loud. “I think… I'm tired.”
“I know.” Kevin said again. “Are you going to sleep?”
There was a struggle in his inhale as he answered, "I think so.”
Fuck. “Are you sure?”
“Mmhmm.”
There's a moment of silence.
“Jean.” Kevin calls. He could still hear his hollow breathing on the other line, but he called his name again when all that followed was silence, “Jean?”
“Mmm?” His breath slowed down to nothing, and Kevin was certain he could hear the slow and irregular ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum of his friends struggling heart.
“I love you.” Kevin said, but he felt sick as the words left his mouth. It felt worthless to him then, an empty promise. Words that should've been said far too long ago. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.”
“Mmhmhm,” Jean hummed in three syllables. "Safe."
And Kevin waited as the silence drew on. He heard it, the final breath that left his lips, the rattle of his breath through lungs too weak to take it.
One second, he counted, and another.
Another, and another, and another, and a million moments passed with nothing but silence and the knowledge of Jean's soul hopefully finding solace in another, brighter place.
He put his phone down, too scared to hang up, and waited for a sign that this wasn't final - waiting for a sign that said this would simply result in a punishment taken too far, that in a months time when Jean's wounds healed he would call Kevin again and apologise for breaking his promise.
Kevin tried not to care about the promise, to not watch the duration of the call going up and up and up with not so much as a peep from the other end of the phone. He tried not to wonder what would happen next - would his parents be informed, would they care? Would they send his body back to France, or would he die, anonymous and insignificant, buried in some American plot of land somewhere, that nobody cared enough about to put a bunch of flowers on top of?
Would the Master call Kevin, would anyone let him know, when they didn't know Kevin had taken another breath after Jean had taken his last?
"Oh Jesus fucking Christ!" The voice on the other end of the phone scared Kevin out of the depth of his thoughts. Was it Zane? He wondered, his finger hovering over the button to end the call, or was it just another voice of a nameless Raven who would forget about this all once the sun rose? "Get the King, tell him it's-"
Kevin hung up before he could hear any more.
The panic attack that followed was not a friendly one - It started slow, but before long, his chest was stuck in a vice, and his heart was prepared to take off. Kevin couldn't hold it in anymore - he cried, choking on the breaths that left his hands numb.
Kevin didn't hear Andrew coming in, but he stood by the door frame, watching, hardly visible through the blurry haze of tears in his eyes. Andrew glanced at the still-lit-up phone screen on the bed beside Kevin, and shut the door gently behind him.
No words were enough.
There's nothing that could be done to make everything okay again, nothing he could hear that that would stop the guilt, and the sadness, and the hurt, that all-consuming hurt.
All Kevin had to offer then, was pain, and bottomless grief, as he held his racing heart while it broke into a million, tiny pieces.
#not a fantastic place to start after my four days of self care to stop myself feeling like dookie#but here u go im sorry#it isn't written great#its a bit stale#but its the thought that counts? right?#mine#ask#kevin day#jean moreau
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
⊹ ࣪˖Dreadful Birthdays⊹ ࣪˖
Felix catton x rich fem!reader
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: angst, shitty father, death of a parent, hurt comfort, childhood trauma, curse words?
Summary: start of a friendship on a lie to umbrella issues with opening up, fluff?
Standing outside, away from the party in a quieter atmosphere to attend a phone call in the small of the currently empty smoking zone garden outside the pub. Wearily y/n paced around in small steps as she talked on the phone, “But why?” She asked in distressed as voice on the other line seemed to reason something. “My break’s not that long I can’t come next month! You said-“ she was cut off with a reply on the call midway.
“Why do you always do this? Why does it always have to be this way?” She argued yet a faint softness remained in her tone despite her frustration. “This is really unfair-you can’t do this to me last minute-“ the ongoing call was declined from the other like halfway through her sentence as she heard the monotone beep. She felt like throwing her phone on the ground, instead she kicked the metal vase instead. “Fucking arsehole!” She cursed to herself as a clearing of throat made her turn her head.
“Everything alright out here?” Felix asked her, he’d came out for a cigarette in the smoking zone but happened to listen the last of whatever ordeal she was going through with someone on the phone and seemed hugely upset about it.
“Oh-uh yeah.” She nodded hastily somewhat embarrassed he may have heard that and her swearing at the metal vase. Felix didn’t exactly know her, but y/n did. Like everyone’s dynamic with the ever so charming Felix.
“You’re..” he trailed off trying to remember her name because he did recognise her from some of their past meetings and he’d seen her around campus often, “Y/n? Yes y/n right? You were the TA last semester who returned assignments with stickers.” He mentioned and chuckled slightly.
“I’ve gained a reputation with the English majors?” She joked raising her brows with a small smile, surprised he remembered her.
“Rightfully so.” He nodded smiling, “I’m Felix.” He introduced himself lending out his hand for her to greet as she accepted but let out a huff.
“I know you.” She said in an obvious tone and reciprocated the smile on his face.
“So who was the fucking arsehole on the phone?” Felix inquired curiously given she didn’t seem so composed just a few moments ago.
“Oh that-“ she paused taking in a deep breath for a second, she contemplated a whole coursework worth of thoughts and stories on wether or not to tell him the truth. “It’s was my boyfriend…” she trailed off, lying. “Stupid argument.” She added feeling awfully strange what it was that came over her to outrightly lie.
“What happened?” He asked, now interested as he leaned by the table and lit a cigarette offering her the second puff.
She took him up on the offer for his cigarette as she took a moment to think through her supposed lie “It’s nothing huge really…” she said trying to downplay is so he would maybe not be interested in it.
“Come on, honour the cig.” He urged her with his charm as she took another drag and retuned his cigarette to him.
Coming up with a hastily put together story, “I’m long distance with my boyfriend currently, he’s uh studying code in Estonia and he was coming here so we could spend the summer break together” she sighed. “But he signed up on a project there and bailed on me last minute.” She briefed him feeling proud and miserable of herself for having a peculiar story like that right off the top of her head.
“What an arsehole indeed” he replied matching her frustration as he scoffed “How dare he sign up a stupid project with a girlfriend as pretty as you?” Felix gave her his chivalrous smile, knowingly flirting with her but her boyfriend was a douche so it was alright.
“How awfully kind of you.” Y/n said playfully rolling her eyes at him as their night progressed in dumb conversations of here and there it was 4 in the morning by the time the pub waiter asked them to leave. They talked until sunrise and that is how y/n befriended Felix.
Despite the lie that the actual phone conversation was with her father and not a fake boyfriend in Estonia like she told him, “Then you can fly in for the weekend after this month, we’ve got a big launch for the company and if you’re here then the PR team will want you at the inauguration and I don’t want that. I don’t want you around on big company occasions, too much trouble as it is.” Her father said sternly on the phone, the rich were shallower than it seemed.
“Why do you always do this? Why does it always have to be this way?”
“Stop being so dramatic and grow up for a second” he told her off sighing, “You are not wanted here. You can’t come home now, I don’t want you to be associated with the company whatsoever. I don’t want the ‘dad’ rep on me with you. Simple as that.” He said to her harshly as he pronounced the word you in an exaggeratedly disgusted sense. As she tried to whine more about how unfair it was to her last minute he simply declined the call not wanting to handle any more of her tantrums.
-
Those two weeks of her friendship with felix blossomed and proved to be rather wholesome. Y/n was genuinely glad for his company, the charm of him could never make one feel unwanted. Felix hated not having his new friend for all of summer, it took quite a lot of convincing and begging on his side to get her to come to saltburn with him. Firstly y/n was really unsure if she could do so given they had been friends for just two weeks despite the closeness of their bond. Secondly if her father found out about her rendezvous, not that he’d care whatever she was upto but he would be mad if it could somehow bring a bad light upon him. Which in itself was a rare case because as felix stated his estate was in a remote place and she felt she could live her summer on her terms.
“You are crushing my eyes!” She exclaimed giggling as felix tightly held his palm over her eyes and his other hand guiding her through the large hallway to the decorated living room, for her. It was a well planed surprise so he didn’t want her looking through the gaps of her fingers at the last moment before the whole thing.
“Just a second” He told her as y/n felt him guiding her into a room where the conversations silenced themselves when he entered with her. Finally he pulled his hand away and held her from her shoulders. “Surprise!” The entire room echoed as confetti spread across the elegant happy birthday decorations. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out if you didn’t tell me?!” He exclaimed laughing as leaned forward from behind her and wrapped his arm around her.
Y/n was overcome with emotions as everyone cheered on happy birthday and surprise, Farleigh still bursting the confetti cracker. Felix attempted to walk across the room to take the covered plate from his hands,“How’d you know?” She held his wrist to stop him and asked him, hugely struck with the surprise.
“Your TA, I-card which you wore around like a badge of honour, it had your birth date mentioned.” He told her as he laughed and gave her a side hug when Elspeth approached her. Felix paced away for a moment to get the cake from Duncan.
“Felix shall throw you a godawful themed party or so later but I wanted to cherish you in a more traditional manner.” She said warmly as she held her by her face and kissed her forehead, the traditionalism of birthdays was long lost with the children growing up into party animals however the grand hall could have used a soft and sober gathering of the occasion of a birthday. Besides she really liked y/n, amongst all of felix’s wild friends she was awfully gorgeous and tender of heart.
“Thank you-“ Was all she could reply, extremely overwhelmed at this moment. “Really-“ she added feeling her gratitude shortening but nobody in this room would realise how big this was for her. She was soon pulled away with all the birthday hugs and warm wishes, a room full of people..gathering at 12 to celebrate her? With her? This was the hardest breakdown she had ever had to fight back.
Venetia pulled her to the table where Felix rearranged the candles on her cake for the final time. The sight of the cake with her name, the hugs she was receiving. She couldn’t hold it in anymore as tears brimmed her eyes. “Hey” Felix noticed as he leaned a bit lower to look at her eyes when she looked away confirming tears welled up her eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh, it was adorable to note how sensitive she was. “Hey…come here!” He pulled her into his embrace with his arms holding her from the side.
“Come on!” Venetia laughed along as she fixed y/n’s hair “don’t cry, you want your pictures perfect.” She said trying to cheer her up.
“God I’m sorry-“ she said shaking her head and pulled away from felix’s embrace as they sat next to each other by her birthday cake and everyone around them, “I’m just—I’m really touched by this, I-I don’t think I can come up with words that could hold my gratitude right now…” she said through her tears as felix chuckled wiping them “Truly, this means the world to me-you’ve all shown me such affection and-I-“
“By the time you finish that speech we’re all going to be in dentures” Farleigh said growing impatient and received an elbow via Venetia.
“Im sorry-this is just very thoughtful of everybody…” y/n said with a chuckle as she wiped her tears yet the hurt in heart where they came from lingered alongside the joy of such experience.
“Blow the candles!” Felix encouraged as he rubbed her back. She was about to when she was urged to make a wish. Closing her eyes with a big smile on her face she did so and the celebration furthered. Just another cake cutting at saltburn was going to be the most treasured memory for y/n.
-
Later that night, almost two in the morning the birthday giggles hadn’t yet died down as y/n lounged with felix in her guest room. She sat legs crossed by the stone bay window as the moonlight reflected through the room. “You really love that cake don’t you?” Felix commented leaning back on the chair across her as he laughed.
“It’s my birthday cake!” She exclaimed emphasising on the word my. It was as it is her third plate of the night.
“Whatever the birthday girl wants.” Felix said chuckling and remembered “Hey has our Mr.Arsehole called yet?” He asked and leaned backwards to look at the time on the clock, as her boyfriend he should’ve called her when the clock struck midnight.
Her face fell at the mention of it, she was planning to tell him sooner or later that she made that up. But she was looking to end that facade at a better time, it had been over a month now searching for that better time. She couldn’t keep her best friend in the dark like this. “Look I have to tell you something about that…”
“You guys broke up?” He asked almost instantly as if he was hoping for it however he kept his tone neutrally curious.
“I don’t have a boyfriend who’s studying in Estonia” she breathed as she sat her plate aside “I-I made that up when we met.” Felix was dumbfounded for a second he couldn’t wrap his head around what she was trying to say. “Look…when we met I just wanted to seem like an interesting person to you I didn’t think we’d become friends like this-“
“And this whole time you didn’t think you should tell me?” He inquired sternly as a frown fell on his face. Felix felt as enraged as he did hurt, “I’d never have considered you to be a two faced person like that!” He scorned standing up from his seat to account for his frustration.
“I’m not!” Exclaiming she replied sensing the rightful hurt and anger radiating off of him, “Felix, seriously I was planning to tell you about this.”
“When? When were you planning to tell me huh?” He asked as he rested his hands on his waist demanding an answer.
She didn’t have an answer for that because she knew this conversation would lead a follow up conversation which would require her to explain about her father to him, that situation is what she was running from. “I..I am sorry felix.” She said. She felt awful not being able to say ‘hear me out.’ Because he so clearly wanted to, he wanted the rational explanation she had but couldn’t tell him.
“Sorry?” He scoffed looking away for a second, “Who was it then? On the phone that night?” He seethed and waited for her to reply, everything within him begged for her to come up with an explanation which would make his feelings for her warranted for again. He had those this entire time, he’d known her boyfriend and her would eventually break up. He was looking forward to this moment ever since he met her but this was the most unideal situation.
Y/n’s silence agitated him even more so, he couldn’t stomach he’d have to let go off his feelings for her. It had been a long while he’d felt like this for someone, this deeply and unwaveringly and he could feel his heart having to say goodbye to it all soon enough and he hated that she couldn’t even reply or meet his gaze. “You owe me an explanation y/n! Just tell me who was on the phone.”
Her gaze as fixated on the floor as she felt the world crumble around her, it felt like standing in the ruins. She created herself, the pattern wasn’t unknown to her. “It was my father.” She told him, however much she wanted to lie with something else she felt like she’d reached a dead end. “I’m not on the best terms with him” and I didn’t want you to see me as another spoilt brat that night, I didn’t want you to think I’m another awful ungrateful child, I didn’t want to open up then as I don’t now.
“And? How so” He asked, it felt like he had to push it out of her to speak but he would, with two strides he reached upto her seat and held her face in his hands, “I am not asking a lot of you am I? Why are you doing this to me? I want your hurt and your truth as raw as it is, I want it as I want all of you, fairly I deserve it. Please. Please talk to me y/n.” Tears brimmed her eyes as she held his hands in hers and pulled them away from her face. The desperation in his voice made it worse as she stood out of her seat.
“I was..I was supposed to go home, back to New York for summer. But my father cancelled it last moment.” She told him with a sigh turning slightly to the side from him, she could not say this to his face without breaking down. Opening up felt like being knifed from the inside. “And I was talking to him about it on the phone, I just didn’t want to tell you then.”
“Why did he cancel it?” He asked and moved her to face him.
By now she realise she couldn’t beat around the bush this way, he wouldn’t move past this and she couldn’t lie now “He said I’m not wanted back home.” She told him redirecting her father’s words. “He had a big launch for the company, it’s bad PR for him and he doesn’t like me around on big occasions.”
“What about your mum?” He asked softly and noticed how she felt silent to muster up proper words.
“My mum’s not—“ y/n breathed “she died giving birth to me. Labor complications at the hospital” she said as mildly as she could, this was her truth, the loss that defined her and it was strange how it hurt the same narrating it each time.
Felix was speechless as his gaze softened it took a lot in him to fathom her grief because she never looked it, “that’s why you got emotional back there, with the surprise.” He thought out loud.
“Yeah my dad forbade it…celebrating my birthday.” She mentioned, she’d grown up to digest it too. Who would deserve a celebration on the day their mother died?
“What about as a child?” He asked really shocked, he got the idea she was emotional and probably didn’t have the best birthdays but absolutely none?
“Not really, my nanny would get me cupcakes with candles till I was six and I was a sheltered kid so that was an ideal birthday to me” she said plainly “But I was-I think I turned 11, the house help with our kitchen staff organised me a small party it was on the kitchen table, balloons and chocolate cake…but my dad got home early that day, he tore down the happy birthday banner, threw the cake and the gifts, fired the staff and I was grounded, I haven’t really celebrated since.”
“At eleven?” He said taking in a sharp breath, it was more than a difficult life for a child to grow up without their mother and have a father like hers. “That’s just cruel”
“My birthday is a dreadful day for him, he loved my mum very much” she said trying to give him the reasoning she gave herself. Both of them were sitting on the floor cross legged leaning by the wall.
“You were a child. He resents your birthday’s enigma in the shadow of his grief.” Felix told her.
“He was a different man once, before me” she tried explaining it to him, despite of how resentful her father was to her how uncaring she wanted to be at the end of the day it was the only parent and only family she’d known all her life. Even her father yelling at her was the sound of her home. “The enigma of my birthday..” she repeated his words with a dejected huff “won’t change the fact that I’m the reason his wife isn’t in this world.”
Felix personally took an offence in that. Her father’s indifference had seeped that poison into her “Absolutely not.” He told her sternly and took her hands in his, “none of it was your fault. You didn’t ask to be born, but as his daughter you’re his daughter. His blood. He treats you with resentment that is a lack in his character. With the loss of his wife he also gained you…a daughter he was supposed to cherish.” He told her what she had to hear but he didn’t mean for her to cry again, opening up was difficult enough for her as it is. Enlacing his arms around her he pulled her into his lap and rubbed her back as she wept in his arms. Soothing sweet nothings he kissed the top of her head rocking her back and forth. “The world gained one of the purest souls with you.” He told her and pulled away to look at her face. Her eyes were full of tears as he wiped them again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “and if it wasn’t for you I’d have never felt this deeply for anyone.” He told her as it warmed her heart with all the pain through it and in his arms, for now, the world seemed just fine.
—
HIIII this is a new acc and English isn’t my first language also I’m a struggling stem major who writes to get over a bad test, pls be kind🙏
LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND GO DRINK WATER NOW
#felix catton#felix catton x reader#felix catton x you#felix catton x y/n#Felix catton x reader fluff#felix catton angst#saltburn#saltburn x reader#jacob elordi#jacob elordi x reader#jacob elordi x you#jacob elordi x y/n
433 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aim for the Sky Part 9 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You were trying your best to enjoy the countdown to the arrival of the baby, but your emotions were all over the place. Even on your birthday, you couldn't tell if you were excited or anxious. Bradley planned to surprise you with something special, but he got a different kind of surprise instead.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, injury while pregnant
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Your parents' departure after Christmas left you antsy and anxious, and you knew Bradley could tell. All the talk about them potentially moving to California had you on edge, especially since everything was beginning to feel very real now. Your due date was creeping closer and closer, and you were starting to remember one solidly scary fact on an hourly basis now: neither you nor Bradley had any clue how to take care of a baby.
Your husband was so excited, it wasn't like you could feasibly bring up this topic of conversation. Every time you tried, he reminded you that he had watched dozens of Youtube videos. He told you that your parents were always just a call away. He assured you that if he was ever going to be successful at anything, it would be taking care of Rosie.
"I'm ready for the Nugget, Baby Girl," he told you as you got dressed to go out to the Hard Deck on New Year's Eve. He was already wearing the pink shirt you gave him for Christmas. The tiny matching one was tucked away in the closet in the nursery which brought a tear to your eye.
"I know you are," you sniffed, "but I'm still scared." You'd had a headache for the last few days, and food just hadn't sounded appealing to you. Your belly was getting enormous as your third trimester wore on, and everything was tender. "She'll be here so soon."
Bradley looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. "Eleven more weeks, but who's counting? Not me," he said, holding up his phone which had a 'Countdown to Rose' background on the screen. When you didn't even smile, he sighed and said, "I know you're nervous, Sweetheart. I get moments where I'm really nervous, too."
You pressed your lips together and tried to hold back the tears. You already knew how much he struggled with coming to terms with becoming a parent when he hadn't had either of his for such a long time. "The whole thing is going to hurt. And then we have to figure out what to do with an actual baby. Like this is going to be way different from nursing Tramp back to health. And I suddenly feel like I'm going to be terrible at this."
He had you in his arms immediately, and you were trying not to get your smeared makeup on his pink shirt. "It might hurt, but I'll be with you the whole time. And then I swear I'll take care of everything right afterwards so you don't have to. I'm planning on taking a few days off from work after Rosie gets here, and you can relax and be an amazing mom while I clean and take care of everything else."
You looked up at him as a tear slid down your cheek. "You're going to cook, Roo?" you asked, finally breaking into a smile.
His eyes went wide, and his lips parted wordlessly. You laughed at the worried look on his face even as you cried a little bit more. "Well, we can figure that part out. Or maybe you can freeze some dinners? I don't think I should be cooking."
"I agree," you hiccuped, wrapping your arms around him awkwardly with your belly in the way.
You were quiet for a bit before Bradley finally asked, "Would you rather stay home tonight?"
Of course you'd rather stay home. Nothing sounded as good as your bed these days. That was where he fucked you until you weren't horny anymore and then let you fall asleep in his arms while he read to you from the Nugget notebook. "No, I want to go out and see everyone," you told him, because you knew he wanted to go out. "We can sleep in tomorrow and do nothing."
He kissed the top of your head and murmured, "It'll be a relaxing week since we're going out for your birthday on Friday night."
"Are we?" you asked, suddenly feeling excited that he always remembered your day and made it special. "Where?"
"Hot sauce restaurant," he whispered. "And maybe a little something extra."
"A cake?" you gasped.
Bradley laughed as he wiped away your tears. "You want a cake? I'll get you a cake, Baby Girl. Anything you want."
-----------------------------
The Hard Deck was absolutely packed for New Year's Eve, and Bradley was getting worried that someone was going to bump into you. He tried to get you and your bottle of Gatorade tucked safely between his body and Nat's, but there were people shoving through the crowd in every direction.
"I've never seen it this crowded before," you said over the music. You'd just been talking to Jake about three feet away, but Bradley could only pay attention to anyone who looked drunk and unsteady on their feet while he sipped his own beer cautiously.
"Seriously," he replied. "Penny and Jimmy look panicked. That new bartender looks like she's going to cry."
You scanned the room, taking a small step away from him and Nat, and that's when you got bumped. "What the fuck, man?" Bradley shouted to some guy he'd never seen before when you stumbled back against him. "Watch where the fuck you're going."
"I'm fine, Roo," you assured him with your hand on his bicep, but Bradley glared daggers at him until he was out of your vicinity.
"You might be fine, but I want you to be safe and comfortable," he snarled, finally looking down at your pretty face as your straw rested on your lip. "I want you to feel as perfect as you look." Just then someone else bumped you into him, and his fingers curled into a fist.
You reached for his hand and shook it until his fingers uncurled and were laced with yours. "I want to tell you to stop, but you're seriously turning me on right now," you moaned, eyes glued to his face as your pupils grew wide. "Like a lot."
Bradley closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his body reacted to your words and the look you were giving him. His hand came to rest gently on your bump, stroking you through your shirt. You looked incredible right now, and you even tasted and smelled impossibly sweet to him. "It's way too early to leave," he rasped, glancing down your shirt as you took another sip of Gatorade. "But when we do, I promise you'll be well taken care of."
"Mmkay, Daddy," you replied, kissing his neck while Nat made an animated gagging face behind you.
"I was going to ask if either of you wanted to play darts with me, but not if you're going to start doing that all night," she said, but you were already bouncing with excitement.
"I want to play!" you told her, shoving your drink into Bradley's free hand.
Nat grimaced but said, "Okay, fine. But only because you look happy, and the endorphins are probably good for the baby."
For the next forty-five minutes, Bradley acted as a human fence, trying to block anyone from jostling you while you and his best friends played darts. "You want to play, Roo?" you asked him at one point, holding up three darts in his direction.
"Who's going to guard you and Rosie if I play?" he asked, glaring at a woman who came tripping in your direction.
"She'll be fine," Nat told him, but he just shook his head and let you play. This was actually exhausting. He knew he'd be tired once the baby was born, but he hadn't been anticipating starting his protective duties this early. Soon he'd have his wife and his daughter to look after. Not that he minded. He was already living for it, but he didn't want to mess anything up. Your nerves were evident earlier as your hormones were constantly fluctuating, but he wasn't sure he had an excuse here.
"Are you listening?" you asked, patting his abs with the back of your hand. He could feel your engagement ring through his new shirt which made him smile unexpectedly. "It's almost midnight."
"Oh. Should we head home?" he asked, hoping he could get you out of here unscathed. The bar was getting a little wild now.
"Let's stay for the countdown and then head out. Get me a ginger ale?"
He grunted in response, looking for someone responsible to leave you with while he fought his way to the bar, but Bob was already gone on his deployment. Maria hadn't even come out tonight, and Cam was wasted. Bradley glanced at Jake and Cat who were looking quite cozy off in the corner, and he led you in that direction with his hands on your shoulders. "Stay with them," he told you, clearly interrupting the couple as you tried to dig your feet in.
"Hey, Angel," Jake said with a smirk. He had Cat's lipstick on his face and his arm around her waist, but he didn't seem too upset that Bradley dumped you there.
"Can you look after my wife while I get her something to drink? It's a little rough in here tonight. If anyone touches her, just punch them."
"I don't need a babysitter," you complained, but he kissed your forehead as Jake made room for you to stand against the wall.
"Yes, you do. I'll be right back."
Bradley fought his way up to the bar where everyone was reaching for the plastic champagne flutes that Jimmy was pouring. Penny saw him and immediately got him another beer, but he had to lean in and ask, "Can I get a ginger ale too, Pen?"
She shot him a little smile as she reached for the soda gun and a pint glass, and Bradley turned back to check on your current status. This time next year, you and he would be cozy at home with Rose, and there was nothing that could possibly make him want to be out for the night. A soft smile found his lips as he thought about coaxing his daughter to sleep and holding her against his chest while you and he watched New Year's Rockin' Eve on TV with Tramp on the area rug.
"Hey, handsome, you wanna buy me a drink?"
Bradley let his gaze shift down to the woman next to him, and he shook his head as she reached for his hand. "Absolutely not," he replied immediately, annoyed that someone was making his quest to get this drink and get back to you longer than it needed to be. He handed Penny ten dollars and grabbed your ginger ale before heading toward the back corner where you were waiting for him, safe and sound.
"Seriously, as soon as midnight hits, we're out of here, Sweetheart."
You sipped your soda and said, "Whatever you want."
-----------------------------
It turned out you and Bradley wanted the same thing. He had you both undressed by the time you got to your bedroom, and then the two of you stumbled into the bathroom, laughing between kisses. He tasted like beer, and his two day old stubble was rough, and you wanted him so badly you were aching for it. But he took the time to light two of the candles you left near the bathtub for when you wanted to take a relaxing bath, his hard cock bobbing as he walked.
"I'm setting the mood," he whispered with a smile, the scars on his face intriguingly handsome in the candlelight.
"Bradley, I'm always in the mood at the moment," you reminded him. You could probably handle him four times a day right now if he could manage it.
"Just let me try to be romantic," he whined, pressing your butt against the edge of the vanity before spinning you around to face the mirror. "I want to romantically fuck the shit out of you."
Your giggles turned to moans as he guided himself deep into your pussy before stroking your clit with one sure fingertip and bracing his hand on the vanity next to yours. His abs were hard against your back, and his pelvic bones were sharp, digging into your rear end. He pulled out a few inches before thrusting deep once again with a delicious snap of his hips. His eyes looked impossibly dark reflecting in the mirror as he watched your breasts bounce as he repeated that same thrust once again.
"Look at you," he crooned softly, leaning in to kiss the shell of your ear as he fucked you a little faster. "Oh my god."
He dragged his big hand up from your clit to cup your belly softly, kissing along your neck as you already felt yourself pulsing around him. Those rough fingers soon found your nipple, and you gasped, "Bradley," which just seemed to egg him on.
He was sucking on your neck and murmuring sweetly incoherent nothings. "Baby Girl, these tits. Gonna love them. My fucking god. Massive."
Where you just saw stretch marks and oversized body parts, he saw something that made him go feral for you right now. Your boobs were so tender, but there was something about the way he was grabbing at you that made you just want more. His voice was deep as his teeth grazed your skin, fingers kneading into the side of your breast as you clenched around his cock which was once again shoved deep inside your pussy.
"Your nipples look fucking huge," he whined, his hips starting to stutter after each fluid movement. "Do you see this?" he asked, hand sliding up the valley between your breasts to grab your chin and aim your eyes upwards until you were studying yourself. Your lips were parted, and he was right, your breasts did look pretty incredible as the candle light flickered. And somehow your swollen belly looked almost cute as he slammed into you from behind and groaned your name. "I did this to you," he whispered, hand resting over your belly button. "But the rest of it is just how fucking sexy you are. I can't get enough."
When you met his wild gaze in the mirror, you let your head tip back to his shoulder, maintaining eye contact as you started to come. He held you tight to his body as his hips met your butt and his cock stroked you exactly how you needed him to. "Oh fuck," you gasped, legs starting to shake as you got closer.
"Good girl," he crooned next to your ear, his mustache prickling your skin as your eyes closed. He fucked you through your orgasm, voice mingling with yours, and before you know it, you were standing there panting while his cum dripped down your inner thighs.
You were a little dizzy, but he kept a firm hold on you as he kissed and tasted your neck, cheek and shoulder. His fingers were stroking your furled nipples, and your skin was on fire with pleasurable little aftershocks that you didn't want to stop. But you were so tired, you needed to get off your feet.
"Roo."
Maybe it was how you said it, or maybe it was the use of that pet name in general, but he seemed to know exactly what you needed with just that one word. He helped you to the toilet and cleaned up your legs while you used it. He brushed his teeth while you did yours, and then he waited for you to remove your contacts and wash your face before leading you to bed. When he climbed in next to you, he kissed your lips and let you get as comfortable as you could before whispering, "I love you both." You were asleep before he turned off his lamp.
----------------------------
Leading up to Friday, Bradley kept trying to sneak off to confirm the plans he made for your birthday. But when he tried to call the lounge in Del Mar first thing in the morning, nobody answered, and if he tried later in the day, there was always an interruption. And that interruption was usually you. On Thursday evening, he finally managed to sneak away to the garage where he planned on working out as soon as he made the phone call.
Once he verified that you were nowhere in sight or within earshot, he had his phone pressed to his ear. When someone answered, he quickly said, "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I just wanted to confirm my rental agreement for the rooftop space for tomorrow night. I have the hour-long private event planned."
"Yes, sir. The space and the DJ are all yours from nine to ten o'clock tomorrow night."
"Great," he replied, head still on a swivel even though he was pretty sure you were doing a load of laundry inside the house. That's when you came strolling into the garage with a snack in your hand, and he quickly ended the call after a muttered thank you. "Hey," he told you as he awkwardly tossed his phone onto the tool bench and picked up one of his dumbbells.
You stood there in one of his old, stretched out tee shirts and a pair of maternity shorts and chewed on an unsalted pretzel. "Who were you talking to?" you asked. He should have known he wasn't going to get away with you not noticing.
"Uh... nobody," he muttered, and you raised one eyebrow in response. He sighed. "I don't want to tell you, because it's a surprise for your birthday tomorrow, okay?"
You smiled and told him, "Okay, Roo. No worries." You bit into another pretzel, and Bradley realized how tired you looked.
"Did you finish eating dinner?"
"No," you replied softly. "I just want a few pretzels. I have like no appetite."
Your next appointment with Dr. Morris was coming up in a week, and he had been wondering if it was bad that you hadn't gained really any weight since before Christmas. Work had been very busy for you the past few days with the arrival of some sort of new scientific equipment that completely baffled him. You were exhausted after one round of sex now, which was definitely a change of pace from a month ago. He almost blushed when he thought about how the two of you spent your first wedding anniversary.
"I think you need to eat something with some substance or protein or something, Sweetheart."
"I can't," you snapped. "Everything else makes me feel awful. You should try being pregnant, Bradley. It kind of sucks."
He didn't know how to respond, because the last thing he wanted to do was piss you off the night before your birthday. "Okay. Well, will you let me know if I can get you anything?"
You nodded as you chewed up another pretzel before yawning. "I came out to watch you get all sweaty for a minute before I head to bed."
"In that case," he said, laying back on his bench, "let me get started, birthday girl."
You were smiling again as he unlocked his barbell and got to work.
----------------------------
You woke up on your birthday to the feel of Bradley's hand on your hip and his voice in your ear, slowly coaxing you from your dream. "Happy birthday, Sweetheart." You rolled over and were met with his brown eyes and his messy bed head, and he collected you in his arms. "It's my second favorite day of the year."
His body was warm, and the last thing you wanted to do was go to work today. "Pretty soon it will be your third favorite day of the year," you croaked. When his brow furrowed, you guided his hand to your belly and said, "Don't even try to tell me the Nugget's birthday won't surpass it."
Your husband shook his head. "It'll be a tie," he whispered, kissing your forehead as the baby thumped around. "Hey, Rosie is saying happy birthday, too!"
You moaned softly. "Rosie is hungry but doesn't seem to like any foods right now."
Bradley ran his fingers along your cheek before kissing that spot. "I'm hoping the hot sauce restaurant will hit the spot for you tonight. Plus I have a fun surprise for afterwards."
It was worth a try. Hot sauce was one of the only things that didn't sound disgusting to you at the moment. In fact, Bradley poured you a little bowl of your favorite kind for you to dip your granola bar into while he made some coffee, and you did feel a bit better. Your stomach gurgled as he plopped down onto the piano bench to play the birthday song and sing to you.
As ridiculous as he looked sitting there in his boxer briefs with his hair still a mess, you knew you could never love someone the way you loved him. He was going to be such a good dad. He already built the playset and had the nursery almost ready. He had a countdown going on his phone. He picked out an outfit for the baby to wear home from the hospital. And he took care of you all the time.
"I love you, Roo," you promised, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing along the gray hairs at his temple. "I can't wait for dinner later."
As soon as you were dressed in your hideous maternity tent, Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found yourself stifling yawn after yawn. You were beginning to doubt that you could make it through work let alone a whole date night, but you didn't want to tell him that. Not when he was playing your favorite songs and holding your hand while he drove. Not when he had his arm draped over your shoulders as he walked you all the way up to your office and kissed you like his life depended on it.
"I love you," he murmured before dropping down to one knee to press a kiss to your bump. "Be extra nice to Mommy today, little Nugget." You could feel her squirm around as she seemed to recognize his voice. "She's got a busy day planned for her birthday."
Then he was back on his feet, zipping his flight suit up fully, and with one last kiss, he was heading toward the elevators.
After just an hour in the lab, it was evident that the granola bar and hot sauce had not been enough for breakfast. You desperately wanted to sneak back to your office and dig around in your snack reserve in your desk to take the edge off if you could. You were currently waging a war between being hungry and simultaneously appalled by food.
"Are you okay?" Cat asked, nudging your arm with her elbow as Bickel droned on about the equipment that was on loan from Lemoore's engineering department. He was hoping that in the next two months, you and the others would be able to help him build a more streamlined interface for the F/A-18s. It wasn't that you weren't interested, because you were. You just couldn't focus very well at the moment.
"I'm fine," you told Cat who gave you side eye but stood quietly next to you. It would have been beneficial to have taken your birthday off and spent it in bed, but it was too late for that.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Bickel finally stopped talking, but then he called your name. You met his gaze and realized he looked very excited.
"Yes, sir?" you asked him, taking a step forward. You felt awful. Even the sound of your boot squeaking on the floor set your teeth on edge. Your head had begun to pound at some point in the morning, and now it felt like your brain was attacking your skull.
"Come help me test it out," he said, his voice grating on your nerves in a way it never had before.
Your next step was a bit of a stumble, and you tried to reach for the edge of the counter. You were going to throw up. The urge to gag left you reeling, searching for something to hold onto. Cat was calling your name as Bickel's eyes went wide, but when you reached for him, your hand caught on the instrumentation instead. It hurt a lot, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as your knee connecting with the cabinet. You needed someone to reach you before you hit the floor, but you weren't that lucky. You wrapped your arm around your belly the best you could, but as soon as you hit the floor, you were met with blackness.
-----------------------------
Bradley didn't really need practice dogfighting, but it certainly was fun anyway. Especially when he was up against Jake late in the morning. The taunting was comical and getting more absurd by the minute.
"Hey, Hangman, why don't you hang it up, man. You're done," he said as he shot the other pilot down for the third time in a row.
"Lay an egg, birdman," came the response through his helmet that made him chuckle.
Bradley was just pulling up on his throttle to gain some altitude and go again when he heard Maverick's voice crackle through his helmet.
"Wheels on the tarmac. Both of you. Rooster first, then Hangman." The tone of his voice left Bradley wondering what was going on. The weather was beautiful, and he was actually enjoying this exercise immensely. In a few hours, he'd be feeding you anything you wanted off the dinner menu at your favorite restaurant before indulging you in your very own, private silent disco.
But as soon as he touched down and started to taxi back toward the hangar, he saw Maverick and Nat running his way. Then he heard her voice through his helmet. "Open your canopy. You need to get out now. Your wife is in the emergency room."
A chill colder than ice shot through his body. Something was wrong with you or the baby, and he hadn't been there to help you. "What?" he gasped, saliva starting to pool at the back of his tongue, making it hard to swallow. "What happened?"
Nat didn't respond, but as soon as his jet came to a stop, she had his ladder ready for him. The rush of fresh air that hit him as his canopy opened did nothing to make him feel better as she shouted for him to climb down. Something happened to one of his girls. He hadn't been there. As soon as he was able to control his body, he climbed down as quickly as he could, skipping the last few rungs. When Nat reached for his hand, he could see the alarmed look in her eyes, and he started crying.
"What happened?" he asked again, but she just pulled her car keys from her pocket while she grasped his hand, and he ran with her to the parking garage.
--------------------------------
Omg, why am I doing this? I hope Nat can drive fast. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@shanimallina87
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@horseslovers2016
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@magicalmorg
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@ughthisisntright
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@mygyn
@yuckosworld
@daggerspare-standingby
@nessjo
@trickphotography2
@lyn-js
@marve2014
@furiousladyking
#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#aim for the sky
482 notes
·
View notes
Text
flinch
summary: you flinch during a fight with eddie
pairing: eddie x female!reader
cw: angst w a fluffy ending, thoughts of abuse
word count: 1.5k words
a/n: wrote this v quickly so it’s not really proofread or anything. i could’ve done it better but i’ve been soo busy :/ might rewrite later
masterlist
i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.
—
you were in eddie's trailer, wayne had just left for work 10 minutes ago, and already you were in some silly little fight with eddie which you didn't expect to escalate how it did
"it's just sometimes guitar players think they're better than everyone else" you stated and eddie rolled his eyes, taking it as a personal jab to his skills
"okay but they almost make the band" he responded from the kitchen, hearing the clank of dishes as the water ran from the faucet
"okay but most of the time they are just assholes who just care about the sex, drugs, and rock n roll life style" you shrugged
"so you think i'm an asshole?" he responded back with a sharp tone and you shook your head
"no i'm talking about the people like mick mars who are so doped up and sleep with hundreds of women and just act like a douchebag" you said with a matter of fact tone
"well it kinda sounds like you're implying that i'm going to turn out like them" he snapped, turning off the water and drying his hands
"no! god no, i'm not saying that! i'm saying once in the spotlight, most people turn into assholes like that" you said, trying your best to stay calm
"so once my band makes it big, you're what- just gonna leave since you think it'll happen to me?" he questioned, turning the corner to meet you in the living room
"of course not! why would you say something like that?" you asked with a louder tone
"well it sounds like that's what you're expecting!" he said, starting to shout
"im not expecting it to happen!" you said, your voice growing to match his
"yeah well i'm pretty sure those 'friends' of yours think it will, they already think i'm in a satanic cult about to sacrifice you" he told you with a sarcastic growl, grabbing some extra dishes he found on the small table to put in the sink
"what the fuck is that about" you asked confused, remembering the party in which you two had met up with a couple of your girl friends but failed to recall them talking about that certain subject
"yeah you didn't hear what they said? we were at that party at steve's house the other night, and they started talking about how i'm some trailer trash wannabe rockstar" he angrily said, flipping on the water to keep working on the leftover dishes from the previous night
"okay first off, i never heard them say anything like that! second, why were you even hanging out with my friends if i wasn't there?" you rebutted, questioning him
"because i was trying to be a caring boyfriend and find you since robin said you looked a little too drunk and i didn't want you to hurt yourself" he snapped back
the volume of the argument kept escalating, which brought knots to your stomach. you hadn't really had fights with eddie and now that you're in one, you badly wanted to go back to how it was
"well i'm sorry i was trying to enjoy myself at the party but also i have never heard them say anything like that before in my life" you told him, starting to pace around, not knowing what else to do
"oh great and now you're defending them, what- do you agree with them?" he asked as you started to pick up empty cans and put them in the bin
"i do not agree with anything they said! but i've known those girls for a good few years now and i know they wouldn't say that about anyone" you tried and he laughed, putting his head down
"you are unbelievable!" he screamed and that's when you didn't care if you started yelling, the anger bubbling up inside you
"oh really so you want to talk about what friends have said about us? okay, well remember that time we were at the hideout and your friend hank said that he liked your other girlfriend before me better and was annoyed that you're whipped for some girl who was less pretty than she was!" you screamed, tears pricking in your eyes
you remembered that moment all too well when hank mentioned how much prettier eddie's ex girlfriend was, and your heart sank but you laughed it off, coming up with some smart comeback to brush off the pieces of your shattered confidence
"that was a joke! you even laughed!" eddie rebutted, slamming a cabinet door shut. you flinched at the loudness of it but he didn't see with his back turned to you
"i only laughed because i was uncomfortable! i didn't know what else to do!" you said, wiping away a tear that fell down your cheek
eddie angrily stomped out of the kitchen to his room and you followed, blinking away tears
"and i also don't exactly remember you defending me and telling him off!" you screamed and he turned to look at you
"because i didn't know you were uncomfortable!" he screamed back, looking around his desk for something
"well you should know from common sense that anyone hearing that would not find it amusing!" your anger was consuming you as you watched eddie throw a shirt from his desk to his bed
"well i guess i'm just not a very good boyfriend then!" he said throwing his arms up in the air
you stepped back, bringing your arms up in a defensive stance as your head turned, somehow expecting there to be an impact from his hand
eddie realized what happened as he stared at you with wide eyed and you slowly moved your head to look at him with your arms still up
you moved your arms down as eddie just stood there in shock, and you moved to wipe a couple more tears of frustration from your face
"y/n... did you think i was going to hit you?" he asked softly, a huge change in tone from what you previously were hearing, his stance deflating
you gulped put a small "no" not wanting him to think that you'd think he'd do such a thing. you knew he would never, but it was a natural reaction that you instantly regretted
"baby i..." he trailed off, taking a small step forward towards you. you didn't move back which he took as a good sign
"you know i would never ever do that to you, right?" he asked, taking another small step forward and putting a hand on your arm which was intertwined with your other arm, folded across your chest
"i know..." you muttered out, moving your head to look away from him, keeping your arms crossed
"can i please hold you?" he asked gently and you nodded, slowly moving your body into his open arms as he wrapped them around you, engulfing you into a giant bear hug
a few more tears fell down as he held you close to his body, and you leaned your head into his chest
"i'm so so sorry for yelling and getting mad, and i'm sorry i didn't defend you when hank said that bullshit, i love you so so so much" he spoke softly, his hand coming up and gently placing it on the back of your head
“and i want you to know that i promise you i would never hit you or do anything of the sort, i’m so sorry you thought that” he said with a shaky voice
"i'm sorry too," you started to apologize, feeling guilt run through your veins from not defending him earlier, and for reacting the way you did
"i didn't realize they said those things, and i know for a fact you aren't going to end up like mick mars or nikki sixx or any of those drug abusing rockstars, well maybe only with the level of rock n roll fame part, not the drugs" you joked with a sniffle
"and what about the sex?" he said with a chuckle, and you moved your body to face him, wrapping his arms around his waist and you moved your eyebrows up in a surprising way, pushing your head back in slight confusion
"you know, sex, drugs, rock n roll- they're a package deal... and obviously there's gonna be no drugs- well okay maybe weed, then a huge amount of rock n roll fame... what about the sex?" he joked making you smile with a small giggle
"well maybe, only if you'll still love and want me when you're big and famous" you told him with a small laugh, a smile growing on his face
"oh baby i will always love you and want you for the rest of my days" he said sweetly before leaning in and giving you a small kiss
when he pulled away he looked into your eyes, a hand moving to the back of your neck
"then show me how much you mean it," you said with a small smirk as he pulled you in for another kiss
he leaned in, kissing you passionately, his tongue fighting with yours as you moved you hands to slightly scratch down his back
"i- love- you" he said between breaths as he continued to kiss you, and you knew he really meant it
fin.
#stranger things#eddie munson#munsons-melody#steve harrington#dustin henderson#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x you#eddie stranger things#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x fem!reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
König x fem!Reader
Synopsis: After a long day, König offers some much-needed “stress relief”. Tags: Title From A Sabrina Carpenter Song, Bed Chem - Sabrina Carpenter, Edging, Not Beta Read, Fem Pronouns For Reader, Bit Of A Size Kink, Porn No Plot, Vibrators, Fingering, Cunnilingus, König Lifts His Mask The Tiniest Amount To Eat You Out, Scar Kink(?), Is That Even A Thing, Doggystyle, Safe Sex, German Is A Fun Language, Kissing, Cuddling Author's Note: My four-and-a-half years of German classes are finally coming into use (but I’m nowhere near fluent, so correct my mistakes lol). Also contains descriptions of what I imagine König to look like. Everyone is free to their own interpretation. Also I'm like a year too late for this but whatever lol and this one is just pure porn guys, so... do with that what you will Explicit content, minors DNI
You felt ridiculous.
Desperate. Anxious. Ridiculous.
Pacing across your small room didn’t help, your frenzied state unending. Anxiety hammered your heart, your stomach twisted in knots, and your hands ached from tensing them so much. Your breathing wasn’t much better, coming and going in quick huffs of air; you felt like you were going to pass out.
You were a goddamn soldier, a ruthless mercenary; you shouldn’t be acting this way. You’d faced down the worst of humanity and came out victorious; the idea of König coming to your room shouldn’t render you so… timid.
You’re not sure why you took König up on his offer for “stress relief”. He’d seen how tense you were all day around the base, the reason for that feeling long since forgotten, your words clipped, muscles tensed. It wasn’t an unusual emotion for you, but he’d never offered his assistance.
Until today. You weren’t quite sure what changed.
A shiver went down your spine when you remembered his voice as he whispered, large frame pressed up close against yours, but not close enough to touch. “Let me help you, Schatz,” he’d said, and you were certain if you could see his face, there’d be a smirk on his lips. You wondered if he knew how you felt about him.
Desperate to be rid of the tension in your body, and desperate for him, you’d agreed. It wasn’t until you’d reached your room that it sunk in, what you’d agreed to. It wasn’t that you regretted it, far from it, but now your stress levels were even higher than they were before.
You wouldn’t lie and say that you hadn’t hoped that something like this would happen. You’d had the biggest crush, which sounded so juvenile for someone like you, on him since the moment you’d signed on with KorTac a few years ago.
And how could you not? He was tall, almost intimidatingly so, with a broad build to match. And the muscles weren’t all for show, just as deadly with his body as he was with his weapons out on the field. You remember the first time you’d watched him take down someone with his hands, a memory that had ingrained itself into your dirtiest dreams.
As for the rest of his appearance, you weren’t quite sure. He’d never taken off his “mask” (a shirt, you’d later come to find out) in front of you, even when on jobs together. You never pried, though, respecting his need for privacy. And besides, you didn’t have to see his face to know that he was the most stunning person you’d ever met. His eyes, baby blue, yet torturously haunted, were all that you needed to see to confirm that. After years of only seeing them, you’d gotten good at reading them like you would facial expressions.
Too caught up in your thoughts, you nearly tripped as your foot caught on the edge of your bed, a small, dingy thing. A mix of a sigh and groan left you, as well as a soft curse as you shook your hurt foot. Glancing at the small LED clock beside your bed, the time read 9:26.
König hadn’t given you a time when you asked, only a teasing, “Tonight.” Which meant, that at any moment, you’d hear him knocking on your door.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe this was all a joke, a cruel one at that. Maybe he knew about your infatuation with him, and this was his response. Deep down, you knew König enough to know that he wouldn’t do something like that, but your anxiety-riddled brain couldn’t think rationally right now.
Before disappointment could set in, there was a surprisingly gentle knock on the door. But to you, it sounded like two gunshots had just gone off in the room, your ears now ringing in response.
A soft gasp left you, and you swore your heart stopped. Taking a second to take a deep breath, you fixed your hair as you walked to the door, suddenly worried about your appearance. Your hand shook as you grabbed the handle, time seemingly slowing as you opened the door.
There, just like he said he would be, was König, his body damn near filling the entire doorframe, the tiniest bits of light from the hallway sneaking in. He was dressed down, which made sense for the time of day, so it shouldn’t have come as such a shock to you to see his bare arms. He must’ve been feeling particularly cruel, to be wearing a tight, black short-sleeve shirt instead of his usual loose long-sleeves. His hands were shoved into the pockets of some black sweatpants, and it almost felt wrong to see him like this.
And as his eyes widened the tiniest amount, you realized that he, too, had never seen you in loungewear. Wearing a tank top and some sleep shorts, you might as well have been naked with the way his gaze roamed over your body, setting your body alight. A part of you wondered if this was the first time he’d looked at you like this, or if your attraction hadn’t been as one-sided as you believed.
You weren’t quite sure what to say; you both knew why he was here. So instead of making a fool of yourself by attempting to talk, you took a step back, wordlessly inviting König into your room.
As he stepped in, you watched as his head moved around, taking in his surroundings. Your room wasn’t much, but it was a step up from the shared room you had when you first joined. There was a bed, a full size at most, the headboard pressed up against the wall, with standard-issue grey sheets. A nightstand sat beside it, with the LED clock, and a lamp that currently struggled to fight against the darkness of the night as it poured through the lame excuse of a window that resided at the top of the wall. A few other pieces of furniture, a dresser, a desk, and a shelf, were each in their respective spots, leaving not a lot of free room.
So, as König walked in, your room felt incredibly small, nearly suffocating. It didn’t help that every time you saw König your breathing turned labored, which wasn’t the best thing to happen to you out on the field. But your years of suppressing your desires had trained you well, able to put on an impression that you were unaffected.
“Do you want this?”
You’d barely heard König, your heart thudding too loudly. He had turned to face you, hands still in his pockets, a casual stance. But his eyes told a different story, hooded with lust, and boring into you.
Swallowing, you failed to notice the way his eyes zeroed in on the action. Nodding your head was the only thing you could do, never feeling so certain bout something in your life. But you were nervous. What if you disappointed him? What if this wrecked what relationship the two of you had? What if this was all still a joke?
You hadn't expected König to have moved so that he was right in front of you. Was he always this tall? Towering over you, you felt his fingers, free from their usual gloves, grasp your chin, forcing your eyes onto him. A strangled noise died in your throat at the action, but he felt it, and you watched his eyes crinkle in the corners. He was grinning.
“Use your words, Schatz.” The endearment, although in a foreign language, made you melt. You weren’t entirely sure what it meant, even after hearing it before, but he said it so sweetly that you didn’t need to know what it meant to feel its effects.
Your heart was fluttering now, your brain fighting between feeling anxious and exhilarated. König must’ve detected this inner battle of yours, something softening in his gaze. The hand holding your chin moved to your wrist, grabbing it loosely enough so that you could pull away if you wanted to, and he slowly pulled your hand up until it rested on his chest, palm flat against his left pec.
Once the shock of touching him subsided, you were confused as he watched you expectantly. You went to try to speak but were subsequently silenced by König as he shook his head, pressing your hand down harder. It was then you could finally feel beneath your fingertips his heartbeat, much too fast for the casual stance he had earlier.
He was just as nervous about this as you were.
He let go of your wrist once he saw you felt it, but you didn’t pull your hand away, quickly gaining confidence knowing you weren’t alone in your nerves. “I want this, König.” You were pleasantly surprised to find that your voice was steady, not even the tiniest bit hoarse. I’ve wanted this for a long time.
Pleased, you could also detect the tiniest bit of relief from him, uncertainty playing a part in his nervous behavior. But that was quickly washed away when his authoritative demeanor returned; you’re not sure why you expected anything else. In every room he walked into, he demanded respect, to be listened to. Followed. Obeyed. You just never thought that it carried into more intimate moments.
You certainly weren’t complaining. Not when you could feel arousal pool in your gut, a pleasant warmth that flowed through your entire body. Not when every word he spoke made you shiver, his accent thick, voice pitched lower. And now that your nerves had died down, all that was left was excitement, which nearly made you just as jumpy. As he brought his masked face close to yours, you swore your breathing stopped; it almost felt like the anticipation you’d feel before a kiss.
But his destination wasn’t your lips, although his eyes did flick down to them momentarily. No, he stopped before they could connect, mask and all. Resting his head against yours, which took a bit of bending on his part, you felt two warm hands begin to trail down your body, starting right at your collarbones.
You watched as his eyes trailed over your face, gauging your reaction. When he was met with nothing but desire and want, his touch grew more certain, yet he didn’t pick up the pace. His fingers continued to drag down your body until you wanted to push them down to where you wanted. Something told you that that wouldn’t go over well, but you had to admit you were curious to see what his reaction would be.
You chose to just shift in his grasp instead of trying to force his touch lower, hoping he’d get the message. You knew he did when you heard him chuckle, a sound that always made you weak in the knees, now especially. “Patience.”
You could detect the warning well enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to it. “Please, König.” You didn’t care if you were begging. All you could think about was how close he was to giving you what you wanted.
Another chuckle left the Austrian, but this one sounded more cruel. “You are going to have a long night.”
Before you could even think about his words, he was effortlessly sweeping you off your feet, hands having found their way to the back of your thighs. Insticinvly, your legs wrapped around his body, but you knew he didn’t need the extra help, and you also knew that he wouldn’t drop you. With a surprised laugh, you hung on as König carried you over to the bed, eyes never once leaving your face like he was enraptured by it.
Unfortunately, the walk to the bed was brief, and before you could get comfortable in his arms, he was depositing you onto the bed. So much for not dropping you. It didn’t hurt, no, more surprising than anything, the breath briefly getting knocked out of you. The cheaper bed groaned under the weight, rusty springs a godawful symphony of noises, but you paid them no mind.
Hungry eyes watched you from the foot of the bed as you moved up towards the headboard, back resting against it. Once you were settled, König stalked over to the side of the bed, his movements nothing but predatory. Yet oddly enough, you felt safe. You both trusted each other enough to watch over the other while out on the field and so you felt that same trust here. Deep down, you knew that if you were to tell him to stop, he would, no questions asked. Yet you knew you probably wouldn’t need him to.
But he didn’t sit down, rather moving to the nightstand beside you. Your dazed state quickly dissipated once he started rummaging inside of it, but you were too late to do anything. With burning cheeks, you watched as he pulled out a pink device, which looked comically small in his hands.
You wanted nothing more than to bury your face in your hands and pray for your demise, yet you were stuck in place once his attention returned to you. You just knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face, and if you weren’t so mortified about him finding the toy, then you would’ve made some comment to wipe it right off.
Finally, König sat beside you, the vibrator still in his hand. With his other, you felt his touch return to your calf, featherlight, and leisurely making its way to the waistband of your shorts. “You use this a lot?”
“König…” Your voice wasn’t as assertive as you’d have liked, coming out more as a breathy whine.
“Answer my question.” His hand stopped moving, stopping right at your knee. No matter how you shifted or squirmed, he didn’t move.
With a deep sigh, you tried to ignore the embarrassment you felt when you nodded your head. You then remembered his words from earlier. “Yes,” was all you said, but that seemed to be enough for him, as he continued his ascent with his fingers.
But his tormenting wasn’t done there, as after a few seconds you heard him speak again. “What do you think about?” This question came quieter than the first like he was sharing a piece of gossip, not asking you to reveal your deepest fantasies.
You.
The word was on the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to say them, to admit to him. How you’d dreamed of moments like this. How you’d imagined him touching you, fucking you, devouring you. So much information was on the verge of being spilled, and you were scared of it happening, too many what-ifs floating in your brain to keep track.
But any attempt of holding back your words disappeared when König’s hand retracted, and you found the words stuttering out of you, desperate to feel him again. “I think about you, König…” You nearly felt out of breath after, your chest heaving for air, your cheeks now on fire.
König, much to your surprise, didn’t seem taken aback by your words. Instead, you watched as his eyes darkened even more, which seemed like an impossible feat. “I thought as much,” his voice sounded more like a growl, and you fought the urge to press your thighs together. “And what do I do, when you think of me?”
Now that the cat was out of the bag, you felt less embarrassed about speaking. You were further encouraged when his hand settled on your thigh, pulling lightly at the hem of your shorts. “I… I’ve thought of you using toys,” you glanced at his other hand briefly, “your fingers. Your mouth.” The last one came out more like a whisper; he’d have to take his mask off in order for the last one to be true, and you both knew he wasn’t doing that.
By the time you had finished speaking, he had reached your waistband, fingers dipping beneath it to brush against your skin. He hummed like he was truly thinking deeply over your words. “In that order?” If it was meant to be teasing, you couldn’t tell.
Words died in your throat as you struggled to speak, your newfound confidence nonexistent. König, thankfully, took some pity on you, realizing that this was all a bit much. “Would you like me to take care of you?”
That you were able to respond to. “Please.”
An appreciative groan reverberated through his broad chest. “Sehr gut.” You weren’t certain what he was saying, but the infliction sounded like a praise, and your body responded as it would if it had been spoken in a language you knew.
You expected him to continue speaking, so imagine your surprise when in one strong tug, he tore your shorts off your body, before throwing them somewhere in the room. You heard an audible gasp from him when he saw you were completely bare underneath, completely exposed to him. You watched his hands flex from where they hung in the air, momentarily taken aback, his restraint pulled tight.
He recovered quickly, blue eyes obscured by black irises now staring at you. “No underwear?” It was a redundant question, yet he asked anyway, wanting you to admit to it. Sheepishly, you nodded, your reward being a low chuckle. “Gott, you are trying to kill me.”
That was the last thing he said before he was settling at the end of your bed, right where your feet sat. His unoccupied hand grabbed your ankle, pulling your legs apart so that he could settle between them. With both thighs resting on his shoulders, you could no longer close your legs, unless you wanted to suffocate the man between them. You doubt he would complain, though.
His face was inches from your center, and you could feel the heat radiating from him with each breath he took. His eyes had left your face, now drinking in the sight before him, and you could tell he was pleased with what he saw. Quite pleased, if the groan he let out told you anything.
“So wet already,” he murmured as if he was surprised. You had little time to feel any sort of embarrassment, before two wide fingers ran through your folds, collecting the arousal there. You watched, then, as he brought his fingers below his mask, and you were able to fill in the details as his eyes fell shut with a hum of appreciation.
Very much distracted, you’d momentarily forgotten about the device in his other hand until the unmistakable buzzing noise filled the air. Your breathing was labored as you waited for his next move, where he would touch you next. You, luckily, did not have to wait long to find out, as those two fingers returned, this time working to spread you open. His eyes finally shot up to yours, his desire evident, and there was an unspoken question in the gesture. More?
You would take all that he could give you, greedily. If he gave you scraps, you would take scraps with a thankful smile. If he gave you a goddamn meal, then you would savor every moment, every drop. With a shaky smile, you gave him a nod, not needing to use your words this time.
The first graze of the toy over your clit made you jump, eliciting an amused shake of König’s head. “Relax, Schatz.”
And you tried. Taking a deep breath, you went through the breathing exercises you were taught when you first enlisted. Either it was thinking about the breathing exercises, or the exercises themselves, but you found yourself relaxing a bit, your muscles not as wound up as they once were.
So when König once again pressed the vibrator against the bundle of nerves, you still jolted. Not out of shock, but because of the pleasure that action brought. And instead of pulling away like last time, he kept his hand in place, making you squirm.
Soft whines and gasps of air were heard from you, hands fisting the sheets beside you. You wanted to hold on to him, but you were worried that once you grabbed on, you wouldn’t want to let go. “König…” you moaned, trying to express just how good he was making you feel. Every nerve in your body tingled, that unmistakable tightness growing in your abdomen. You weren’t close, but you didn’t think it would take long with how worked up you’d been waiting for him.
The hand holding you open ascended, your back arching into his touch as he dragged his fingers over your stomach, your ribs, before encapsulating one of your breasts in a large, warm hand. “Du bist so schön,” he murmured, a glint of something in his eye. It quickly turned mischievous, though, when you just nodded along, his words meaning nothing to you. “Du hast keine Idee, was ich sage.”
When you neither confirmed nor denied his observation, he laughed, much to your confusion, but you were too caught up in your pleasure to care much. “Oh, Schatz.” It almost sounded patronizing, something that shouldn’t have gotten you as worked up as it did. Another plea of his name tore from your lips, the pressure in you building and building.
Glancing down between your legs, you were surprised to find his eyes already on you. A squeeze of his hand had you keening, König making a noise that almost seemed proud. “So responsive. Nur für mich.”
What could you do besides nod? Even if you could understand him, you doubted you’d be able to process his words. And besides, hearing him speak his native tongue was always a treat, so hearing him like this was melting you, another thing setting your body alight. Your thighs were beginning to shake, something that did not go unnoticed by the man between them.
“König… fuck, just a lil’ more…” You failed to see the plan he was formulating, your eyes screwed shut as pleasure overtook you. That tension was becoming unbearable now, and just on the verge of snapping. Your hips rocked and twisted, your fingers cramping with how hard you were gripping the sheets. You were on the edge, just teetering. All you needed was a little push, and-
The sound of silence was deafening as König turned the toy off, setting it on the bed beside you. Your eyes flew open, nowhere near expecting him to pull away just as you were about to cum. It would’ve been embarrassing, the frustrated noise you let out, but all you could think and feel was your waning orgasm. You went to try and finish yourself, but a strong hand caught your wrist before you could move.
“König…” you warned, pleaded. Like sand, you could feel your release escaping through your fingers. “Y-You said you would help me relax.”
“You are distracted, nein?”
It was true, your mind was far from the stresses of the day. But a new stress was building, one that was being caused by him. “König-”
“Lay back down.”
You hadn’t even realized you’d sat up, and with a sigh, you sunk back against the pillows, hoping he didn’t see the way your cheeks darkened at the way he commanded you. You could feel yourself continue to come down from that delicious high, body still strung tight like a string on a violin. König played you so well, that you doubted it would take long for you to reach that precipice again. But would he give you what you wanted, or continue to dangle it above your head, just out of reach? You both loved and hated the game he was playing, but your patience was bound to run out eventually.
He settled in between your legs again, both hands empty this time. A few minutes passed, König lazily tracing his fingers across your bare legs and stomach, truly letting the embers of your previous orgasm burn out.
After what felt like an eternity, he began to drag his touch inward, making you gasp lightly. Like he did before, you felt him pass his fingers through you. The stimulation was almost too much, but it was the best thing you’d ever felt, a soft whine leaving you. That whine turned into a moan when he pressed a digit into you, aided by your arousal.
He wasted no time in working his finger in and out of you, setting a slow yet intense pace. Your previous decision to not hold on to him quickly fell apart, desperately reaching down to him. There was a second of surprise before he gave you his other hand, your fingers immediately locking with his. It was a startling difference, the innocent gesture of handholding versus the way he was making you see stars with every crook of his fingers.
His fingers were wide, much wider than yours, so the stretch burned when he added a second. He gave you a moment to adjust before moving, murmuring soft words of praise. “Gutes Mädchen,” he purred. “Gott, look at you, taking me so well.” Each word was enunciated with a thrust of his fingers, pulling noises from you you didn’t even know were possible.
As amazing as his fingers felt, you need more. Wanted more. Glancing down at König, you gave him as wide eyes as you could, and he seemed to get the message. “You want more?” Upon your fervent nodding, he shook his head teasingly. “So greedy.”
For a moment, you were convinced that he wasn’t going to fulfill your request. That was until he pulled his hand away from yours, reaching for the base of his mask. Your heart damn near stopped when you realized what he was doing, and with a shocked gasp, you shut your eyes, unsure if he wanted you to see.
You felt him pause, the rustling of fabric ceasing, before his voice rang out. “Look at me.” For the first time since you’d met him, you’d heard his voice clearly, not muffled by his mask.
Cautiously, you opened your eyes, still partially convinced that this was a test of sorts. All of those worries disappeared when your eyes landed on him. His mask wasn’t fully off, not like you expected, and a part of you was relieved. You don’t think you were ready for that.
Instead, it was pulled up just past his mouth, revealing most of his lower face, and any image you’d created of him in your mind was immediately forgotten, replaced with the sight in front of you. He had a wider jaw, with a decent amount of stubble adorning his cheeks. His lips were full, the top smaller than the bottom, and pulled into a small smile that made your stomach erupt into butterflies. He was, without a doubt, one of the most handsome men you’d ever laid eyes on, and this was only a part of his face.
But what stuck out to you the most, and would stick out to anyone who saw him, was the large scar that cut upwards on the right side of his upper lip, disappearing under the mask as it continued. The rest of the skin had healed together, except for on his lip, where, similar to a cleft lip but smaller, there was a gap, exposing a sharp canine. It was like his lip was turned up in a constant sneer.
You had no idea how he got that scar, and knowing the job you both did, it was probably quite traumatic. But the scar, alongside the rest of him, had desire churning so strongly in your gut that you nearly felt ill. It felt almost too good to be true, yet here he was, in between your legs, staring at you like you were the best thing on this forsaken planet, his hips grinding against the bed as he pleasured you.
“Hallo, Schatz.” You were entranced by the way his lips moved as he spoke, and he noticed it, a cocky grin now on display. God, the effect that smirk had on you was immediate, his smugness immeasurable when he felt your body react on his fingers. “You know how to make a man feel good.”
You managed to roll your eyes, not wanting to bolster his ego that much, making König laugh in response. But his playful mood was quickly replaced by one of pure desire, moving forward until you could feel his warm breath hit your center. His fingers had resumed their motions, that tension once again building in your abdomen. It felt stronger this time like your body was punishing you for not allowing the tension to release last time.
Not once did his eyes break away from yours, not even as his tongue flicked out to taste you, and you could feel his smile, never once dropping. He did it again, this time nudging your over-sensitive clit, making your hips buck. Letting his mask fall on your body to keep it held up, his now free hand splayed across your lower abdomen, keeping you in place, unable to escape the onslaught of pleasure.
Even quicker than before, you found yourself careening toward that edge, your nails digging into König’s arm, likely leaving marks. His name replayed like a chant on your lips with each crook of his fingers, each flick of his tongue, every suck from his lips. You couldn’t see him any longer, your head thrown back against the pillows.
“König… please.” You almost didn’t want to tell him you were close, afraid of him taking your release away from you again. But you figured he didn’t need you to tell him to know, with the way your thighs shook and walls fluttered around his fingers. You felt him smirk again, a sense of dread washing over you at its implication. “Please, König… let me cum.”
Forcing your head back down, you watched as he considered your plea, and for a second, you thought you were in the clear. That was until he pulled his mouth away, his lower face glistening, that smirk still there, before the mask fell back down. His fingers pulled away next, groaning when he watched you clench around nothing.
Frustrated was nowhere close to how you felt, tears now prickling your eyes as yet another orgasm was withheld. The torture was delicious, yes, but you were going to lose it if you didn’t get to cum soon. You’d wanted this for so long, to fall apart under his ministrations, and you were tired of waiting. Your voice wavered as you whined his name, but there wasn’t anything either of you could do now, as you felt that almost high fade away again.
With a defeated sigh, you let your head hit the pillows again, your legs sliding off König’s shoulders. You didn’t get to relax long, though, before his accented voice hit your ears again, unfortunately muffled. “Roll over.”
Without trying to hide your displeasure, you complied, glaring at him as you turned. You hoped he couldn’t tell how excited you actually were, fighting back an eager smile. He chuckled from behind you as you settled on your hands and knees, trailing off when he took in the sight before him. “I will ignore that attitude. This time.”
As you thought over the implications of this time, you felt König stand, followed by the sound of rustling fabric, as well as the crinkle of plastic. Something stirred in you at the fact that he came prepared, meaning he wanted this as much as you did. You’re not sure why you still believed he didn’t, but the reassurance was nice, to say the least.
Glancing over your shoulder, you managed to catch a glimpse of him, the sight making you nearly snap your head back around. Nearly. He had shed his pants, his black shirt rising enough to reveal a pale, muscular abdomen, created from years of intense labor and exercise. He radiated power, and a part of you wondered if that translated into more intimate aspects like his authoritativeness had. Would he be rough with you? Or would he be more ginger, like his touch had been for most of the night; not gentle, but not on the verge of hurting?
You would take either way, as long as it was him doing it.
“It is rude to stare.”
His tone was teasing, yet it still pulled you out of your shameless ogling. Caught red-handed, an almost sheepish smile appeared on your face. “You can’t blame me when you look like that. You’re a sight, König.”
For the first time that night, König seemed at a loss for words, staring at you like you’d grown a second head. If his mask was still pulled up, you figured you would see his lips struggling to form words, and, if you were lucky, a blush creeping up his face. It was a beautiful image in your mind, one that made you smile harder.
Clearing his throat, König shook himself out of whatever daze he had been in, and you pocketed his weakness away for later. Checking you for any last-second hesitations, he let the rest of the clothing on his lower body fall away, effectively shifting the power back into his hands. And despite yourself, a small noise left you at the sight, further stroking his already massive ego.
As to be expected for someone of his size, he was large, and painfully hard, if the hiss he let out told you anything. He was proportional to his hand as he took himself in it, stroking himself a few times, but you knew you’d struggle to hold him in yours. Just like the rest of his body, he was pale, with an almost purple tip that leaked precum.
Turning your head back around before you lost your nerve, a few seconds passed before you felt the bed creak again, assumedly to put on the condom. One hand pressed between your shoulders, wordlessly pressing your face and chest into the bed. His other hand grabbed your hip, pulling your ass against him, another small noise leaving you when his cock pressed into you. You let him maneuver you as he wished, surprised with how much you were enjoying him taking the lead during this.
“Ready?” His voice sounded relaxed, but the fingers digging into your hips told a different story. Still, the sincerity of his gesture made your heart thrum happily.
“Yes.” You’d never been more ready for something.
A strangled moan tore from your lips as he pressed in, obscured by the mattresses your face was currently being pressed into. Tangling your fingers into the sheets around you, you could do nothing but take him as he sheathed his length into you, inch by inch. Time seemed to slow, your breathing ragged, when it wasn’t interrupted by noises of pleasure.
The pain wasn’t as bad as you initially thought it would be, and for a moment you were thankful that König had worked you up so much. But that tension returned again, König still not fully in you yet. A whimper of his name had him stilling, an almost painful-sounding breath leaving him as he steadied himself, using every ounce of restraint to keep going slowly.
The words tumbled out of you then, unable to stop yourself. “I-I can take it… please.”
“Scheiße.” The expletive was not unknown to you, nearly turning smug with the fact you made him lose control again. And just like before, he was quick to put you in your place, any comment dying on your lips when he bottomed out with a sharp thrust of his hips.
You swore you saw stars, unable to make any noise besides a soft oh. König, trusting that you were telling the truth, didn’t wait to give you time to adjust. He set a brutal pace immediately, hips snapping against yours with a slick noise. You could cum just from this alone, still so worked up, and König knew this.
The hands on your body shifted, wrapping around the front of your body and lifting you effortlessly until your back was pressed against his chest. He wasted no time tearing off your shirt, groping and toying with your breasts as he continued to thrust up into you. His voice was like gravel as he spoke, his covered mouth speaking right in your ear. “Du fühlst- Gott, mein Schatz.”
Even though your brain was hazed with lust, there was one thing that stuck out to you when he spoke. Never before had he added the word “mein” before calling you Schatz. You had no idea what it meant, but it certainly sounded like an English word you’d been dying to hear from his lips. Mine.
“Yours?” You knew you were probably connecting dots that didn’t exist, but the idea of being König’s was too appealing.
König stuttered in his movements, an absolutely sinful moan being pulled from him, a sound that nearly pushed you over that edge. “Smart girl,” he spoke while regaining his breath. “Cum for me, mein Mädchen.”
That was all you needed, reaching your release the hardest you’d ever had in your life, the relief you felt immeasurable. Your head threw back to his shoulder, and because your eyes were screwed shut you couldn’t see the way he stared at you with awe. Every muscle tensed and then released, causing you to go slack in his arms, your nerves buzzing with pleasure.
Your ears rang too loudly to hear him groan your name as he felt you cum, and a few more thrusts of his hips was all it took to reach his own end. The sensation of him spasming inside of you rode out your waves of pleasure until it became too much. König, thankfully, seemed to realize this, and he pulled out of you, then easing your limp body to the bed carefully.
Completely blissed out, you didn’t feel as König got off the bed, nor know how much time passed before he returned. All you knew was that suddenly the blanket was torn out from under you, before covering your bare body.
Even though every muscle in your body didn’t want to work, you forced yourself to sit upright and watch the large man, who was currently in the process of getting redressed. “You’re not staying?” You didn’t try to hide the obvious disappointment in your words.
König stilled at that, turning to face you slowly. “Do you want me to stay?”
“Of course.” The words came out so easily, so honestly, that you nearly startled yourself with your honesty.
Something like relief sagged his broad shoulders, and before long he was back beside your bed. You let him lay down first, as he did take up more space, before settling yourself in the crook of his arm. Well, it was more like you were half lying on top of him to keep from falling off the bed, but neither of you were complaining. König certainly wasn’t, his eyes crinkling in a poorly concealed smile.
A few moments passed in silence, simply savoring the afterglow and the feeling of being in each other’s arms. Then, “Are you relaxed now?”
You snorted at that, lifting your head to look at him, shaking your head lightly. Fondly. “I suppose I am,” you agreed. “Though I am gonna be sore tomorrow for… other reasons.”
It was König’s turn to laugh now, the sound lighter than you expected. “I hope you are not expecting me to apologize. You were the one who asked for it.” You merely shrugged your shoulders in response, knowing he was right, but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of verbally admitting it.
Every part of your body wanted to lay back down, but you had a different idea as you continued to observe König. He tracked every movement of your eyes, and you could see his brow furrow in confusion. Before he could say anything, though, you were speaking, so quietly you wondered if you had merely thought the words.
“Can I kiss you?”
And for the second time that night, König was at a loss, blinking at you like a deer in the headlights. But it seemed he’d already made up his mind, nodding lightly, the mask creasing with every movement of his head.
Letting the blanket fall off you, you were quick to straddle his abdomen, eliciting a gasp from the Austrian. Tentatively, you let your fingers reach for the hem of the mask, scanning his eyes for any hesitations. When you were met with none, you flashed him a gracious smile, before pulling the cloth up right to his nose, not going further than he had before.
His hands, which had fallen to his side, now ran up your thighs, before settling on your waist. Blue eyes danced across your face and your body, not able to decide which sight he liked better. You were quick to keep his attention on your mouth, though, as you planted one of your hands on his chest and leaned forward.
Taking your other hand, you let it trail up his neck before settling on his lower jaw, his stubble tickling your hand. He shuddered under your touch, lips parting in a soft gasp. Even with everything the two of you had done tonight, this felt the most intimate.
When you pressed your lips against his, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged yours when he made another audible noise. A part of you wondered how long it had been since he’d been kissed, been touched this softly. If he’d let you, you’d remedy that. Gladly.
You kept the kiss short, but it promised more to come. Setting the mask back down, you pressed one last peck to his covered lips, unable to help yourself, before laying your head on his chest, keeping any comment about his fast heartbeat to yourself. “I hope you know I’ll be getting my revenge,” you said instead, hoping he didn’t realize it was just another way of saying you wanted this again.
“I am looking forward to it, Schatz.”
Translations:
Schatz - treasure (term of endearment)
Sehr gut - very good
Gott - God
Du bist so schön - you are so beautiful
Du hast keine Idee, was ich sage - you have no idea what I am saying
Nur für mich - only for me
Nein - no
Gutes Mädchen - good girl
Scheiße - shit, fuck
Du fühlst- Gott, mein Schatz - you feel- God, my treasure
Mein Mädchen - my girl
#konig cod#konig x reader#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig x you#könig x reader#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig mw2#könig x you
253 notes
·
View notes