#the issue was we didn’t know what/how to do. what can we throw away what can we archive etc
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hsslilly-blog · 3 months ago
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okay guys i didn’t say this but i was the one left in charge of The List. i Listed Things. 😁 my list was very beautiful. also i got to tell people what to do which is always nice
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 4 months ago
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I was wondering if you could do a fic where the reader is pregnant with Aegons baby but when he usurps the throne she and Jace pretend the baby is his so she doesn’t have to face consequences for sleeping with Aegon 🫶🏼
I'm back from my trip and back to writing/posting!! I hope you enjoyed the requests I had queued while I was away
Warnings: mention of pregnancy
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Standing in your nightgown, you looked down where your belly would swell very soon, your hand covering the slightest curve. A babe was growing there. A little babe with white hair and dark eyes, like the one in your dream. A perfect mix of you and Aegon. 
You’ve known for two moons that you were with child, but had not been able to tell anyone. When your bloodmoon was late, you thought of going to King’s Landing and tell Aegon in person, but the King drew his last breath and the Greens usurped your mother’s throne before you could get on your dragon. 
You’ve been hiding your secret under your clothes, but your belly was starting to grow and show through your looser dresses. You could no longer keep your pregnancy a secret. 
The issue was, you could not tell Aegon. The Greens would make the babe a part of the war and tell their supporters that Rhaenyra was keeping Aegon from his child, and you didn’t wish that. You wanted this unborn babe to be safe. 
So you told Jacaerys. 
There is nothing Jacaerys would not do to protect his twin sister. He would throw himself in front of a fire to shield you and commit war crimes for you. 
You jumped when you heard another knock on your door, immediately removing your hand from your belly. You assumed it was one of the servants asking if you wanted your evening meal brought up to your chamber, but the knock was different. Special. 
‘’Come.’’ You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, erasing all traces of tears.
The door opened and Jacaerys stepped in, dressed in his riding gear. You could smell the dragon from across the room, meaning he must have been in Vermax’s company. 
‘’Have you spoken to Mother about my plan?’’ he asked after closing the door. ‘’I know we said we would never wed each other, but I see no other option than to claim the babe as mine.’’ 
As he spoke of the babe in your belly, your hand fell to protectively lay over your stomach as it was before Jacaerys came in. You shook your head, and he noticed the tear stains on your face and the signs or irritation around your eyes.
A pained look crossed his face.  ‘’Have you been crying?’’ 
You turned your head away from him, confirming his guess. 
‘’Sister...’’ His voice was gentle as he stepped forward, a soft hand being placed over your hip, but you shrugged him off, refusing to look him in the face. ‘’I promised I would protect you and the babe. You need not to worry anymore.’’
You shake your head, the tears already welling in your eyes again. ‘’What if the babe has white hair? How will we explain that to the realm, Jace?’’ 
‘’We’ll say nothing. Like Mother did when we came out of her womb with dark hair,’’ he replied. 
‘’I refuse for my child to have their legitimacy put into question and live through the same accusations we went through as children.’’
Your little affair with Aegon was a secret to most. All thought that you were just close, not close. If a babe with white hair came out of your womb, Alicent will know. She will either request Aegon to claim the bastard child or have the babe slain so, in case it was a boy, you would not try to claim the throne.
You felt sick at the thought of the latter. Aegon would never allow the death of his child. He loved you.
Jacaerys pulled you into an embrace, no words coming out of his mouth. He let you bury your head in his shoulder and silently cry for as long as you needed. 
‘’I won’t let it happen,’’ he assured, feeling the soft curve of your belly pressing against his stomach. ‘’No matter what anyone says or does, I promise I will always be by your side, raising, loving and defending this babe as strongly as I would defend you. I will never allow anyone to harm him or her.’’
House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios@shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95  @serrendiipty  @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme  @shine101  @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron �� @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic
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1-800-kami · 1 year ago
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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru
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gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
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IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)
content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)
author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.
this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
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“so… let me get this straight.”
“go ahead.”
shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”
“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”
“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 
“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”
“do you… do you share any classes with him?”
“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”
���just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.
all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.
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it’s hard to forget about gojo.
not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…
...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.
the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.
“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”
speak of the devil.
there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.
you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 
“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”
what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.
you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.
pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-
“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”
“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”
your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.
“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”
“what did you just call me?!-”
“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”
“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.
“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”
“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 
“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 
the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.
he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.
when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”
he’s relentless. “why do you care?”
“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”
you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”
“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“
“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 
some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 
“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 
“i don’t need your money…”
“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 
“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”
that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”
“do you promise? like, actually?”
“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.
“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.
“i also want your number.”
you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.
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“what do you have me saved as?” 
the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.
you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.
“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“
“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”
“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“
“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”
“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.
“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 
he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.
“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“
the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.
from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 
gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.
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you push him away.
everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.
you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.
and that thought alone scares you.
still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 
the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.
“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”
“satoru-“
“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.
“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”
you take back everything you just said.
a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.
you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”
he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 
“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”
“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.
“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 
you try to ignore how that makes you feel.
and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 
you’re in love with gojo satoru.
and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 
and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.
you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.
the reason why you want to stick around too.
you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 
“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.
you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.
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it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.
you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.
it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.
shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.
the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.
it was your ex. 
your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 
if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 
you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.
out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.
“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 
“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.
“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”
you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.
“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”
your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”
“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”
“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.
you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.
you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.
the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.
“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”
you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”
“oh, don’t even get me started.”
he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”
“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”
he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”
“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.
the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 
you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”
“kento nanami.”
“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 
“i’m just doing my job.”
“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”
“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”
“y/n l/n.”
“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”
“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”
“did something happen?”
“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”
“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”
he gets to the cafe in five.
you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 
it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 
however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”
your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.
“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 
“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.
“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.
“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.
“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 
you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”
still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.
i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.
“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 
that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.
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the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?
“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”
“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 
“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”
“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”
“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”
you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“
“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 
“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”
“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.
“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”
he cuts you off. “you… what?”
you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.
“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.
this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.
“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.
you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”
gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.
a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.
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“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”
he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”
“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 
“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 
he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”
“i love you, y/n.”
“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 
he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.
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“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.
“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 
gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”
“hmph. alright.” 
“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”
“satoru!”
“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”
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this night is going amazing.
when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 
“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.
it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.
“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.
“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.
“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 
“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”
“oh? do tell.”
“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”
“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.
“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”
“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”
“hey, i wanted to know more!-”
“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”
“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 
suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”
“duh. it’s a classic.”
“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 
suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 
satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”
you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 
he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”
“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 
you wish you never did.
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you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.
on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.
fuck.
you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.
what bullshit that was.
your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.
so you do.
you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.
of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.
stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.
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when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?
he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.
he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.
they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”
“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.
“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”
he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 
“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”
geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.
“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.
gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.
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part 2 :)
4K notes · View notes
jishyucks · 8 months ago
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⋆.˚ on a whim — ldh ˚.⋆
‣ pairing: haechan x reader
‣ genre: friends-to-lovers?, fluff
‣ wc: 1.06k
‣ summary: ❝What if… what if I kissed you?❞; alternatively, you impulsively suggest to be your best friend's first kiss
‣ warnings: I wouldn't say it's steamy at the end but it's like,,, sorta detailed
‣ an: this is bc hyuck in glasses makes me want to do backflips (this is literally self-indulgent)
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“I’m almost done with this assignment and then after we can watch a movie, sound good to you?” 
You scribbled down a few words, waiting for Donghyuck to respond to your question, but you were returned with a half-assed hum. This catches your attention, mainly because it wasn’t like Donghyuck to be disinterested in a movie. He said once that movie nights were his favourite nights. 
“Hyuck?” you shift your attention from your work to your best friend, brows knitting together. 
Donghyuck’s lying on your bed, eyes looking straight up to the ceiling with an empty expression. You don’t even think he’s blinking. 
“Hyuck.” Your voice is firm, trying to catch his attention. You can’t even see him blinking through his glasses, lips falling into a pout.
“Lee Donghyuck!” 
You finally catch his attention, though all he does is turn his head in your direction, “Yeah? Sorry… I zoned out.” He sits up on your bed, crossing his legs underneath him. 
“I was saying how I’ll just finish this assignment and then we can go on with movie night,” you repeat, “Are you okay? Still up for it?” Your head tilts to the side and Donghyuck has to look away before you cause his heart to arrest. 
“Of course I am, I just…” He bites his bottom lip and blinks at the wheels of your chair.
“Is this about what my friends said earlier?” You frown. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to talk about it because you know your anger issues are going to take over. When Donghyuck fails to give you a reply, you follow the question up, “It is, isn’t it?”
“My feelings are valid,” he retorts stiffly, falling back onto his back, “I know I’m pathetic for not even getting my first fucking kiss at this age but—”
“You’re not pathetic, Hyuck,” you interrupt, angry at how he was putting himself down for something so ridiculous, “Don’t say that. Everyone lives life at their own pace.” You throw a soft punch at his knee and he yelps despite it not hurting. 
“I know, you’ve told me that before, but when it’s pointed out, I see why it’s stupid,” he goes on, “Like not one person has brought themselves to want to kiss me? How pathetic is that?”
Trains of thought begin running through your head and you let the question hang in the air for too long. Far too long that this makes Donghyuck nervous, “You could at least say that it is pathetic instead of not saying any–”
“What if… what if I kissed you?” 
Donghyuck shoots up, “What?”
“What if I kissed you.” You say more confidently, “Then you could say that you kissed someone.”
Donghyuck’s chewing on his lip now, unsure whether or not this would be a good idea, “You’d do that?... Would that even count?” 
“I’ll count it if you do…” You say, “Besides, if you’re okay with it, and I’m okay with it, it counts.” Your legs scooches your chair closer to Donghyuck, almost as if anticipating his answer. 
If Donghyuck was being honest, he liked the idea. It’s not like he’s been waiting for this for the longest time, no… he just thought it was a good idea. And it was you he was going to kiss for god’s sake. He trusted you, he cared about you, he wouldn’t mind if his first kiss was you. Hell, he wanted his first kiss to be you, “Okay.”
You scoot closer so that your knees touch his, “Go whenever you’re ready.”
“O-okay,” Donghyuck’s taken aback by how straight forward you’re being. He nods once and shifts forward in place, leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours, “Okay, I’ll do it now.” 
You can feel his warm breath on your face and it somehow sends you shivers down your neck. The proximity between the two of you is small. It felt like he was doing it on purpose to tease you and you were tempted to be the one who closed the gap between the two of you. 
Donghyuck comes closer and you’re ready to close your eyes, but then he pulls away, “Shit, s-sorry.” He apologizes, “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?” A frown grows on his lips, worried that he was actually making it awkward between the two of you, just because of a kiss, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
You nod, “I’m the one who suggested it, Hyuck.” 
He huffs and nods again. He starts closing in on you. His hands instinctively reach up to grab your face, and at that point you know he’s going to commit to it. Just like earlier, you feel his breath tickle your lips, and before you know it, Donghyuck’s plush lips are pressed up against yours. 
Donghyuck holds back a gasp, holding his lips to yours. For a moment, he’s afraid he’s doing it wrong, unsure whether or not he’s moving his lips correctly, but the second you begin kissing back, hands finding the back of his neck in hopes of finding something to hold onto, a sense of relief washes over him. 
He pulls away to breathe before pushing his mouth back onto yours. The kiss was deep, that was for sure, something he didn’t expect to happen. When you suggested a kiss, he thought you meant something along the lines of a ‘one-two’ and done, not this. But he didn’t mind it. And it seemed like you didn’t either.
In fact, he likes the feeling. There’s a warm feeling growing in his chest the longer the kiss lasts and he couldn’t get enough of it. 
So this was why people did it so often. It felt good.
Donghyuck’s arms slither around your figure, bringing his hands to your back. Then he pulls you closer. And again, you don’t mind. 
And just as he feels your tongue tapping gently on his lips to let him in, Donghyuck feels something sharp scratch the bridge of his nose and it doesn’t take him long to realize that his glasses were getting in the way of everything. 
He pulls back, groaning, out of breath before he rips them off of his face—because, no, he doesn’t care if he can’t see your face. All he wants to do is kiss you. 
“Fuck it,” he mutters before he smashes his lips back onto yours. 
1K notes · View notes
covenofagatha · 1 month ago
Text
But you're my stepmom! (Part 6)
Word count: 2100
Warnings: making out, mommy kink, jealous Agatha
Taglist:@stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas @r-3-becca @harknessshi
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Before you can open your mouth to respond, she yanks you back into the bathroom you had just come out of. You rip your hand out of her grasp. 
“What – what are you doing here?” You ask, mouth agape. How had she known where you were? Why is she so mad?
She advances on you until your back hits the wall. Fury is radiating from her and you’re more than a little frightened (and kind of turned on). 
“You see me kissing your dad, so what?” She sneers scathingly. “You run and find the first girl you can for a lousy fuck in a bathroom?” 
She keeps coming closer so you put your hand on her shoulder to stop her. “What are you talking about?” You shout exasperatedly. “We didn’t ‘fuck in the bathroom,’ I was upset and she was comforting me!”
“You kissed her,” Agatha says, voice strangely calm. 
“And you kissed my dad! Also, are you fucking stalking me?”
“I followed you to make sure you didn’t do anything rash, because news flash, your father and I are married! I know you don’t want to hear it, darling, but not everything is about you.” 
You grit your teeth. “I know that. But do you? Because every time I even get close to a girl, you basically call me a slut.” 
“Well, maybe if you weren’t acting like one,” she snarls. You fist your hand into the shirt she’s wearing, digging your nails in through the fabric. 
“You know, it’s pretty rich that you’re calling me dramatic for earlier when you’re literally going crazy over the thought of me with someone else.” The air in the room seems to change. It’s the closest either of you have gotten to addressing this thing between you. 
You see Agatha falter for a split second. “That’s not what I’m doing,” she growls. 
“Oh, yeah?” You challenge. “Then what is this? Cause to me, it looks like you’re jealous.” 
The vein in her forehead throbs as she leans in. “You know what this looks like to me? Like a spoiled little girl didn’t get the kind of attention she wanted for one second so she decided to throw a temper tantrum. And now she needs to be taught a lesson.”  
“Fuck off, Agatha.” You let go of her shirt and raise your hands to shove her back but she easily catches them and pins them above your head. 
You inhale sharply, a noise sounding an awful lot like a moan coming out of your mouth. She smirks wickedly, her eyebrow raising. 
“What a naughty girl,” Agatha tuts and embarrassment burns your face. 
“Let go of me,” you say, struggling to get out of her grasp but she holds you tighter. 
“Is this what she did to you when you took her to the bathroom?” 
She’s bringing up Rio again. She clearly has some serious jealousy issues and you wish you didn’t find it so hot, however frustrating it is. “I didn’t have sex with her, for fuck’s sake! I kissed her, yeah, but I was thinking about you the whole time.” The admission stuns you both and her grip around your wrist slackens. But you don’t pull away. You need to see how she’ll react. 
Her eyes drop down your lips, then back up. She leans in closer and you forget how to breathe when she ghosts her lips over your mouth and you find yourself instinctively drawing in an attempt to actually kiss her. 
But she steps away before you can, dropping your hands and letting go. 
“What?” You sigh defeatedly. You’re already tired of this game she keeps playing, the one where she strings you along and makes you think she likes you and then cuts you off. She doesn’t get to be jealous and possessive and then back away after almost kissing you. 
“I’m married to your father,” Agatha says. “I’m your step-mother. I’m over twice your age. We can’t do this.” 
“I don’t care!” You insist, but she shakes her head. Your insides harden and you get a rush of boldness. “Okay, fine. Here we go. I want you, Agatha. I don’t care who you’re married to, or how old you are. Fuck, I like how old you are!” 
She scoffs in disbelief, eyes darting up to meet yours and then to the floor again. 
“So you can either do something about that, or you can let me go back out there and have fun with my friend.” You give her the ultimatum, praying that you didn’t just ruin everything.
For a minute, you think Agatha will change her mind. But then she spins on her heel and walks out of the bathroom. You feel a rush of emotion flood over you, but you shove it down. You got your answer. It’s better you know now. 
“Hey, where have you been?” Rio asks when you finally rejoin her on the dance floor. 
“Ran into someone I knew,” you say evasively. “You wanna get out of here?” She nods eagerly. You give the bar one last look over just to see if there’s any sign of Agatha. 
There isn’t. 
You bite back the disappointment rising in your chest and pull Rio out the door by the hand. 
You’re walking to your car when you see a shadow in the alleyway by the parking lot. You squint your eyes and can make out the trace of a woman. 
Is it her?
Stopping abruptly, you turn to Rio and drag her in for a long kiss, pushing her against your car. She groans into your mouth. It grows heated and you’re almost too distracted to notice your phone buzzing in your purse. 
You break away, both of you gasping for air. Rio runs a finger over her lip smugly and you pull out your phone. 
You win. Drop her off and come over to my house. Do NOT touch her. It’s from the unknown number you’ve memorized. A number you could recite in your sleep. A hot thrill runs through you. 
You smirk to yourself and turn to glance back at the figure in the alley, still cloaked in darkness. Of course Agatha would wait to watch, not being able to give up control even after she tried to. 
You’re not sure you’ve ever driven so fast in your hurry to get Rio home so you can go be with Agatha. But once you’re parked in Rio’s driveway, there’s an awkward pause. 
“Do you want to come inside?” Rio finally asks. You feel bad that you’ve led on her, made her a pawn in this game between you and your step-mom. 
“I should probably go. School tomorrow, you know. There’s still some things I need to finish,” you say apologetically. She nods like she understands and then she gets out of the car and enters her house without looking back. A pang of guilt hits you hard but you shake it off. 
I’ll be there in 20 you text Agatha. 
I’ll be waiting. Her reply comes almost immediately and your breath catches in your throat. 
Anticipation builds in your stomach the entire drive to your dad’s house. You’re not sure what will happen, or really what can happen if your dad is home. You have a feeling that if you have sex, Agatha will want to hear you make noise. 
You arrive in front of the house, all the windows dark. You shift nervously. Maybe she just made you drive all the way over here, knowing you wouldn’t do anything with Rio if she told you not to, and is hanging you out to dry. 
You check your phone. It’s been about twenty minutes, so Agatha should know you’ll be getting there any minute now. You wonder if you should ring the doorbell, make Agatha come down and explain or risk waking your dad. 
And then you see it. 
The gate to the backyard is unlocked and slightly pushed open. An invitation. 
You quietly shut your car door and creep up the driveway, cringing at the sound your car makes when you lock it. The gate squeaks. Your shoes echo on the patio concrete. It’s like you’re asking to get caught. 
When you finally turn around the house and come into view of the pool, your mouth falls open. 
Agatha is floating in the pool, an inviting smile beckoning you to join her. But that’s not what gives you pause. 
You can see in the light of the moon that she’s naked underneath the water. 
Your mouth runs dry as you strip off your dress as quickly as you can and your underwear follows in suit. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so turned on in your life and you can see her eyes darken at the sight of you. You walk quickly over to the pool steps and wade over to her, stopping when you’re right in front of her. 
The two of you stand like that for what feels like forever, simply soaking in each other’s bare skin. No words are spoken, risking nothing that might break this spell. 
And then Agatha reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, asking for permission with her eyes. 
You give it to her by entangling a hand in her hair and dragging her into a bruising kiss. There’s no teasing, no featherlight kisses – you both need this too much – and her tongue is in your open mouth before either of you knows it. You feel her moan into you and your arms circle around her naked back to pull her in even closer. You whimper at the feeling of her breasts against yours and you’re easily able to wrap both your legs around her waist, practically weightless in the pool.
Her fingertips dig into your ass and you can’t help but roll your hips against her lower stomach at the sting. 
“I can feel how wet you are even in the water,” Agatha chuckles darkly, walking with you until your back hits the edge of the pool, pulling another groan out of you. 
Her lips are back on yours, kissing you so fervently and so dominantly that it makes your head spin. You feel like you’re drunk. You’re literally vibrating with need for her. 
Her hot mouth trails down the side of your neck and then bites harshly. You whine, trying to get some stimulation on your clit by squirming against her stomach. Agatha tugs your bottom lip between her teeth and sinks them into it, eyes flashing with the sound you make. 
“Please, Agatha,” you beg. Her hands start stroking up and down your thighs, the dull ache between your legs now a roaring fire, still holding you in place against the pool wall. 
There’s a glimmer of mischievousness on her face. “Oh, baby, I know you can do better than that.” 
You’re panting, lips swollen, and grinding on her stomach. You’re not sure how much more she wants. “Please, Agatha, I need you, I want you, please fuck me, mom-” You clamp a hand over your mouth before you accidentally embarrass yourself beyond repair and she smirks like it’s the most delicious thing she’s ever heard. 
She leans in and whispers against your ear, “Say it. Who do you belong to?” Her right hand slowly moves up your thigh until she’s hovering her fingers right over your pussy. 
Your breath stutters, feeling her right where you want her. “You, mommy,” you whisper, barely audible. 
"That's right." She slides her hand through your folds, pressing hard on your clit which elicits a moan from you, and then she shoves you off her, stepping away like she had done in the bathroom at the bar. 
“What the fuck?” You ask, throbbing with need, never more aware of the emptiness inside you than right now.
“You didn’t think I was going to reward you after that little stunt you pulled in the parking lot, did you?”
“Agatha, I’m sorry, I just wanted to make you mad, please don’t, I need you so badly.” Your pleas fall from your mouth and she delights in them.
The smirk on her lips is pure evil. “I know, sweetheart. But mommy needs to make sure you learn your lesson. And trust me, when I do finally fuck you, it won’t be in a pool.” She climbs out of the water, grabbing the towel she set on the side and dries off. You watch her in a stupor, not believing that she’s going to leave you like this, lips still burning from her kisses. She throws the wet towel back on the ground for you to use and then walks naked to the sliding glass door, tossing you one last look. “And don’t even think about touching yourself.” 
She goes inside and you are alone once again. 
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girlgenius1111 · 3 months ago
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throw it all away
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part 1 of 2 if no one is noticing any changes, there must not be a problem. but then, someone does notice. and there is a problem. that just isn't a reality you really feel like accepting. [putellas!reader]... alexia realizes you're struggling. how does she help you with something she doesn't understand? tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.
“You’ve lost weight.” 
It wasn’t said with an impressed nod or smile. It wasn’t said like a benchmark you’d met. It wasn’t said like it was a good thing.
Somehow, you knew it wouldn’t be. 
Instead, the physio’s voice was gentle, concerned. He spoke to you like he knew how you got here, but he couldn’t. How could he know?
No one noticed. Not your teammates, not your friends. Not Spain’s physios. Not even your sister. 
And that’s what you wanted. 
“Okay…” You said, like you didn‘t understand why he’d  brought this up. 
“Not a little weight. Enough that I’m concerned.” His eyes were squinted a little, like he was trying to see right through you. Still, you maintained your composure, kept your face blank. 
“Well, I didn’t have much of an off season. It’s been pretty nonstop even since the end of the league season. I’m just in shape.” 
He shook his head, now looking almost pityingly at you. “That’s what the issue is? You’re sure?” 
You did what you’d been doing for months: you lied. 
“Yep. Can’t think of anything else it could be.” Your tone was light, even as the weight of the unspoken words settled heavily on your chest. 
“We have to be careful with these things, you understand. We’ll change up your meal plan, and see how you are in a week. You’ll be on light training anyway, like the rest of the girls coming back. If it’s a matter of being overworked, we’ll get you back healthy in no time.”
He didn’t say what would happen if things didn’t go back to normal; if this wasn’t just being overworked. He didn’t need to. He was giving you a chance to correct this yourself before he has to involve the doctors and the coaches. And your sister. He was giving you a chance to fix this before it became a much, much bigger deal. 
As you left the medical room, you wished more than anything that this was a chance you could take, but you knew that it wasn’t. 
You knew the physio had opened his mouth a week later when he came out during a water break to pull Alexia, Irene, and Pere aside. He spoke to them quietly for a few minutes, all three of them furtively looking over at you every so often. You knew what you were in for when you got home; probably a very angry Alexia. Angry that you were jeopardizing your career and your health, throwing all your hard work away. For Alexia, football was the most important thing in the world. Sometimes it felt like it was more important than you, and you knew that she wouldn’t understand this. She would see what you were going through as a weakness, something you needed to quickly resolve, and get back to the most important thing. 
It was just that you weren’t capable of handling Angry Alexia right now. Not when you already felt kind of faint from training on an empty stomach, horribly grumpy because you were fucking hungry, and honestly still in denial that anything was wrong. It would lead to a whole blow up fight you didn’t want to get into, and as such, you weren’t looking forward to going home. Alexia surprised you. 
She’d started off angry, moving to stomp over, grab you, and haul you home so she could yell, when Irene grabbed her wrist and encouraged her to just listen for a second. 
“This is going to ruin her season.” Alexia seethed. “Does she not realize that she’s hurting the team?”
Irene regarded her incredulously for a moment, having to remind herself that the other woman’s brain just worked differently than hers. “Ale, she’s hurting herself. Whatever she’s doing isn’t a selfish decision she’s making. She’s sick.” 
Your sister grew quiet, chewing on her lip as she thought through Irene’s words. 
“You can’t yell, Ale. You can’t be mad at her. She needs help, and she isn’t going to want to accept it. You have to be careful with this, gentle and patient and kind. Okay?” Irene said, staring hard at her co captain. 
“Yeah.” Alexia said quietly. “Pedro, do you know why… or how?” 
Pedro shook his head, worry clouding his face. “I asked her about it a week ago, and she pretended she had no idea what I was talking about. I told her she had a week to get back on track, but she didn’t. I don’t know how, or why. Those are both questions for your sister.” 
Alexia nodded, her gaze stuck on where you were stretching, just inside the gym tent. “Pere, can we go? I need to talk to her, and I know there needs to be a conversation with everyone, but she’ll just feel cornered if that’s where we start. I want to take her home to talk.” 
Pere agreed immediately, telling Alexia to take as much time as she needed, and reach out to the club for any help they could provide at all. Irene walked with the blonde in the direction of the tent, her arm slung across Alexia’s shoulders. 
“She isn’t going to want to talk to me.” Alexia murmured. “She hates talking about her feelings, especially with me.” 
Irene frowned. “You’re her sister. She trusts you more than she trusts anyone. Just stay calm and don’t get angry. I know when you worry you tend to get angry, but try not to let that happen. It won’t help.” 
Alexia nodded, having arrived at the entryway of the gym. Irene patted her on the back, telling her to call if she needed help, before she headed inside. She called you over, receiving a few odd looks from her teammates at the strange tone of her voice. 
Your sister could see how terrified you looked, even from all the way across the gym. Her heart clenched at the brave face you were trying to put on; it didn’t hide how scared you were.  
“Yeah?” You said, trying to act casual as you walked over to your sister, even though you felt kind of dizzy, and your head was pounding with a headache, not to mention the anxiety that was coursing through your veins. 
“We’re going home, we need to talk.” Her tone wasn’t clipped or sharp like you expected it to be. Her face wasn’t set with anger, her hands weren’t clenched into fists at her side. She looked strangely… calm. 
“Talk? About what?” You questioned, feeling defensive even if your sister wasn’t mad. 
“We’ll talk about it when we’re home. Let’s go.” With that, she led you out of the tent, back towards the main building. You stumbled slightly, the dizziness and nerves combining to make you a bit unsteady. 
Your sister steadied you, both her hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 
If you’d had any hopes that Alexia didn’t know what was going on, those disappeared. Her eyes flitted over you, her grip strong, as if she was worried you’d collapse or something. 
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Your voice was shaking, for a reason you weren’t quite sure of. 
Alexia softened, surprising you as she wrapped her arms around you tightly, pulling you into a hug. It was nice, comforting, and you sank into it, taking just a moment to allow yourself to be weak. 
It wasn’t comforting for your sister. Suddenly, all she could feel was the bones of your spine, more pronounced than they should be. It was a noticeable difference, and she knew that it likely felt more dramatic than it really was, considering the information the physio had given her, that this wasn’t that bad yet, that it was fixable. Still, your sister wanted to cry at how small you seemed against her. 
More than that, she wanted to cry that she hadn’t noticed this happening. 
You kept waiting for her to blow up. All the way to the locker room and to the car, all the way home, but she didn’t. She watched you carefully out of the corner of her eye, she carried your bag for you, and she insisted you drink an entire water bottle on the drive home. Alexia was worried, more than she was upset, and that was beginning to terrify you. 
She didn’t even really talk upon arriving home. She just set your bag down, looking around for Olga like the brunette would have all the answers to fix this. 
“Go shower, we can talk after, okay?” Alexia said over her shoulder, disappearing in the direction of the office Olga worked out of during the day. 
As you headed up the stairs, you wondered if the screen still slid out from your window as easily as it used to, when sneaking out was a bit of a habit. 
You wondered if your body could even take the jump down to the ground underneath your window. You wondered whether you even cared, if it meant that you’d get away from this conversation, escape the walls closing in around you.
Downstairs, Alexia was pacing a hole in the rug spread across the office floor. Olga was watching her march back and forth, waiting for her girlfriend to talk herself out, which she didn’t seem anywhere close to doing. 
“How could I miss this? Do I not pay enough attention? Is this my fault? Have I pushed her too hard? How long has this been going on? How did no one notice before now? What if-”
Olga stood, grabbing her girlfriend’s hands and putting her movements to a stop. “Amor, take a second. Relax. None of these questions need to be answered right now.” 
Alexia leaned almost imperceptibly into her girlfriend’s touch, desperate for anyone to tell her what to do here. 
“We need to talk to her. That’s where we start, and that is going to be hard, Ale. She probably doesn’t want to hear anything we have to say about this, and she might lash out, but you have to remember how much she must be hurting right now. You have to be patient, okay?” 
Alexia nodded her jaw tightening as her resolve strengthened. She’d be the most patient person in the world, if that’s what you needed. She’d do anything you needed her to, but the possibility that this wasn’t something that she could fix for you was terrifying her. She just wanted to help. 
When you came back downstairs after your shower, you knew you were in for an intervention. Ale and Olga were sitting on the couch next to each other, speaking in hushed tones. You approached them warily, sitting in the armchair across from the couch. 
Your sister took a deep breath, her eyes scanning over the piece of paper on the sofa next to her. It was a few notes that Pedro had given her, a few reminders she had for herself, and a few that Olga had added. 
Don’t get angry. She needs help, she doesn’t need your anger. 
Don’t push too hard, but don’t let her off with excuses.
 Be firm, but be kind. 
Don’t threaten to tell Mami, because she’ll just run. 
“I’m not mad.” Alexia started. Now that you were sure she wasn’t going to yell at you, you realized how much easier that would have been. You hated the concern on her face, the worry in her eyes. “You were looking at me earlier like I’d be mad at you, but I’m not mad.”
“Why would you be mad?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Playing dumb always infuriated your sister, yet this time, she didn’t take the bait. 
“I talked to Pedro and Pere earlier. Pedro has some concerns, about you.” Your sister paused, looking at her girlfriend next to her, as if for reassurance. Olga nodded encouragingly, and Alexia straightened up. “I think you know what these concerns are, hermana.”
“I don’t.” You said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate you talking about me behind my back.” 
“You do.” Alexia said, still annoyingly calmly. 
“I really don’t, Alexia.” 
“Pequeña, please. I know that you aren’t okay. You don’t have to lie to me about that.” 
You wilted a little, eyes anywhere but on your sister, but she leaned forward, seeing an opportunity; a fracture in your walls. 
“I want you to be okay. I want you to get better, healthier.” Alexia said gently, her eyes flickering to the piece of paper in front of her every so often. It was a mix of her handwriting and Olga’s, though you couldn’t make out what it said. 
“I am better. I am healthier, Ale.” You argued weakly, finally looking at your sister. You half believed yourself, half knew that you were very far from healthy, the two conflicting sides waging war in your head. Would it be easier to admit defeat? To break down and let your sister fix you? You found that you didn’t really want to be fixed.
“Hermanita, this isn’t okay. You can’t keep going like this. It’s not safe.”
You shook your head defiantly, a single tear tracking down your cheek. “Alexia, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”
You didn’t think about the times you’ve cried yourself to sleep after having no choice but to eat a full dinner. You didn’t think about the way everything is just a touch more exhausting, now. You couldn’t think about that, you wouldn’t. You were fine. Why couldn’t Alexia see that? 
She just stared at you, blinking rapidly. Fighting back tears, you realized with a start. Her hand gripped Olga’s tightly, and you couldn’t fight the wave of guilt that hit you like a truck. She was worried, and you knew she should be. Somewhere deep inside, you knew. And that was the most terrifying part. 
“Cariño, I am so worried. You aren’t okay, I don’t understand how you can’t see that. You are an athlete, you know you need to fuel your body in the right way. You know this isn’t normal. Can’t you admit that?”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, for the first time showing even a hint of emotion. It wasn’t anger, or sadness. It was fear. 
“I have it under control, Ale. I promise you, it’s under control.” Your voice wobbled, no confidence at all behind your words. Alexia shut her eyes tightly for a minute before blinking then open and looking at you in a much more intense way. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
You stood up, feeling a flare of anger surge through you. “I don’t care what you believe.” Moving to walk out the front door, though not sure where you were going, you froze at the sound of Alexia’s voice behind you. 
“You can leave, but we’re still going to have this conversation. I can wait, but the sooner we talk, the sooner you’ll be allowed back at training, and back on the team sheet.” 
You whirled around, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Since when am I off the team sheet?!” 
“Since today.” Alexia didn’t raise her voice to match yours, and she didn’t stand either. She remained sitting next to Olga, both of them looking at you so sympathetically, it made you want to sprint out of the house that instant. 
“How could you do that?” 
Alexia almost flinched at the genuinely betrayed tone of your voice, but she just shook her head. 
“I didn’t do anything, pequeña. The physios and Pere made this decision themselves, based off the information they have.” She replied, nodding towards the chair across from her again. “The only way you’re being allowed anywhere near training is if you talk.” 
“I don’t want to talk about this.” You snapped, throwing yourself down in the chair. 
“Well, we have to. I won’t watch you hurt yourself like this without saying anything.”
You flinched like she’d struck you. “I am not hurting myself, Alexia. I have it under control, it’s not dangerous, it’s not anything. It’s fine.” 
“You are hurting yourself. I don’t know how, but I know that you are. Whatever you are doing to make sure your body doesn’t gain weight is hurting you!” 
"You're being ridiculous, Alexia. Completely ridiculous." You spat back.
Nothing Alexia was saying was working. You remained just as defiant, just as frustrated. Nostrils flaring, hands clenched into fists, you refused to back down. 
Olga squeezed her girlfriend's hand, the blonde falling silent as she did so. 
“Pequeña, listen to me. We both love you so much. You are my sister, maybe not by blood, but in all the ways that count. And when you care about someone, it’s so hard to watch them go through something like this.”  
Olga’s voice was soft and gentle and somehow, the most threatening thing you’d heard. It was the way she looked at you, the way she spoke; like she knew what she was about to say would challenge you. 
“If this was anyone else doing what you’re doing, you’d have something to say. If this was a friend or a teammate, and you saw them doing this, you’d do something. Am I wrong?”
You found that you couldn’t lie, so you just shook your head. 
“Give yourself that same kindness. Give yourself that same love and care. You would get someone else help if they needed it, no matter what. Can you let us help you?”
Another tear ran down your cheek, your lip trembling as you fought to hold back your sobs. Only Olga’s hand in hers kept Alexia from leaping over the coffee table and pulling you into a hug. 
“I’m scared. I don’t want to.” You said finally. Your eyes fixed on Olga, refusing to look over at your sister and see the disappointment you knew was simmering. 
“But you need to. And you know you need to.” Olga said carefully. She watched as an array of emotions flashed across your face, until you finally landed on… resigned. 
“I… I don’t know where to start.” 
“That’s okay!” Alexia jumped in. “You don’t need to know. We can take it one step at a time. We’ll get through this, hermanita, I promise.” 
The way Alexia was talking made your stomach twist. There was no ‘we’ here. Alexia didn’t close her eyes when she got dressed in the morning, didn’t turn her back to the mirror before she showered. She didn’t have to come up with excuses to go to the bathroom after a big meal, she didn’t know exactly how to move her food around her plate to look like she’d eaten more than she had. Alexia loved you, and you had no doubt that this was hurting her, but there was no comparison to what you’d been putting yourself through. Alexia couldn’t fix this for you, couldn’t even really fix it with you. It was something you had to entirely be committed to, recovery, something that would take strength from the deepest parts of you. Alexia couldn’t promise that you’d get through it. It wasn’t up to her.
You didn’t say any of that to your sister. What good would that have done? Instead, you dropped your head into your hands, and tried to breathe. You still couldn’t quite believe this was happening, and a part of you wished you’d wake up and it would all be some horrible dream, and no one would actually know. Another part of you, though, felt like sobbing in relief that someone had finally noticed. 
Unbeknownst to you, Alexia and Olga were having a silent conversation. Alexia wanted to drag you into the kitchen and make you eat lunch, since she was absolutely sure that you hadn’t had breakfast. She wanted to talk, and talk some more, and find you a therapist, and call her Mami and tell her what was going on. She wanted to do every little thing she could think of, because she was sure if she tried hard enough, she could control this enough for you to be okay.
Olga knew better. She looked at you and could tell that you were barely restraining yourself from curling up into a ball and crying. She knew trying to make you eat a full meal in the way Alexia intended to right now would push you too hard. She knew that you needed time and space to process and breathe. The brunette could see how easily you’d be overwhelmed here, and it was this knowledge that had her firmly telling Alexia what she was to do. 
“Go upstairs and shower. I’ve got her.” She whispered, kissing Alexia’s cheek softly. 
Her girlfriend looked at her in confusion, both of them exchanging a few glances before Alexia gave in. 
“Please try to get her to eat something.” The blonde whispered back, standing and beginning to head upstairs. She paused at your chair, opening her mouth to say something before thinking better of it. Instead, she just kissed the crown of your head and headed upstairs. 
Only once Olga heard the shower turn on upstairs did she finally move, walking around the coffee table and crouching in front of you. 
“Nena?” She called softly. 
You looked up apprehensively. 
“What do you need right now? You tell me, and that’s what we’ll do.” 
Control. Olga was giving you control, but you didn’t know what to do with it. You felt overwhelmingly lost, not even sure if you could put one foot in front of the other without someone telling you how to. 
“I… don’t know.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders. 
“That’s okay.” Olga assured you. “We don’t have to talk any more today, but I’d like you to try to eat something. It doesn’t have to be big, or a whole meal, but something. Is there anything you’d like?” 
No, there wasn’t, you wanted to snap. That was part of the problem. Instead of snapping, though, you found yourself thinking. “Protein shake?” You requested shakily. 
Olga nodded, smiling proudly at you. “Protein shake and a piece of toast, I think.” 
You found yourself agreeing, somehow, rising from your chair and following Olga into the kitchen. You tried to think of what would be worse; eating or talking. Both seemed like pretty abysmal choices, but Olga set your small meal down in front of you, and you knew there wasn’t really a choice. As quickly as it had been handed over to you, you felt the control slipping out of your grasp. The shower turned off upstairs, and you reached for the glass, bracing yourself for everything you were about to feel, and everything Alexia was probably about to say.
back in my two parter era. let me know what you all think :)
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concretecultist · 5 months ago
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Kingdom Come
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summary: you ask Noah, your Dom best friend, for a big favor.
pairing: sub!fem!reader x dom!noah
word count: 7.4k
THIS IS PURE FICTION!!
warnings: 18+!! BDSM, restraints, slapping/impact play, light degradation, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, oral (f receiving), subspace
A/N: this was purely self indulgent. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🥰
~Berry🫐
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Life was kicking your ass. Harder than normal and the weight of the world was getting harder the bear.
Your job sucked, your body ached all the time and the one guy who you thought was going to be it for you, ended up ghosting you. All of it was a slap in the face and it was even worse when your landlord calls you to let you know the water would be off for a couple weeks due to maintenance issues. You guess you could tolerate it since he’s reducing rent during the time that the water will be off.
So, once you find out this information, you’re calling your best friend to see if you can crash there for a while. He had no problem with it. He no longer had roommates and often found himself missing having someone around.
So when you arrived and got yourself situated after a steamy shower to wash the day off, you find yourself sitting beside Noah with a question burning a hole in your tongue.
“I know this idea is out there but,” you choke on the words and realize how ridiculous this sounds.
“What?,” he keeps clicking away at his controller as he played his game, not taking his eyes off the screen. When you don’t answer, he takes a peak over at you and can see you biting your lip so hard it looks like it’ll bleed.
“Stop doing that,” he paused his game and used his thumb to gently pull your lip down from between the grip of your teeth, “What’s going on. It’s just me, Y/N,”
You look to him, twiddling your thumbs and decide it’s all or nothing, if he says no you guys can just forget you ever said anything.
“I need to turn my brain off,” you blurt out.
“Okay?,” he shrugs as if there was nothing to it, “I can have Folio bring some weed by,”
“No, I-,” you throw your face in your hands, cheeks burning as you think about it, “You are in the…. the BDSM scene and I want you to help me turn my brain off,”
His mouth drops in an ‘o’ shape as it clicks what exactly you mean. His hesitation has you feeling so silly. You should have just showered, went home and rubbed one out.
“Sugar, I’m not exactly sure you know what you’re asking for,”
You were his little sugar cube. Too sweet to know exactly what his life entailed behind the scenes. You never really seemed interested in it before. But little did he know, you were just nervous to show it.
He could be mean at the request of his subs during sessions and you were requesting it now but you were his best friend and he didn’t want to cross that line unless you were 110% sure.
“N-no, no I do,”
He’s briefly talked about his sessions enough for it to cause a burning of desire in your gut. You’ve never been in the scene but with the way things are going lately, you just need to be taken care of, to be manhandled and you’d rather do that with someone you trust.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you mumble, humiliated now that you’d expect your hot, dom, best friend to do that for and to you, “I just made a fool of myself,”
The silence that he was giving after your initial ask was gnawing at your emotions, you just wanted to disappear right now.
“Sugar, it would be an honor but if we do this, there’s no going back because I’m going to want you forever,” his words spilled like the smoothest whiskey on the market. Sure, now this sounds like a typical cliche of friends to lovers but what’s wrong with that? Sometimes things like this are meant to become something more. Maybe that’s why long term relationship never worked for either of you… because you two were it for each other?
“Please,” your voice cracks with need. You had showered while he stayed on the couch playing a video game and yet your body is still tense.
“Follow me,” he stands tall before you, extending a hand in which you take easily. You could already feel some tension relieving from simply holding his hand.
He kept his pace slow, easy for you to keep up with as one of his steps equaled three of yours.
He had a spare bedroom that no one was allowed in, not even you and you guys had been friends for almost a decade now. So when he reached above the door to grab the key, you snatched your hand from his and took a giant step back.
“I can’t go in there,”
“Right, without my consent,” he peaked over his shoulder, “But you have that now and then some,”
You looked at him with wary eyes and he dropped his shoulders with a knowing sigh.
“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” his hands made their way onto your shoulders to deliver a comforting squeeze, “This is the way,”
One of his hands is gently cradling your cheek now and it’s so soothing that you can’t help but lean into it and he notices the way your eyes flutter.
He already knows you’re going to be so good for him tonight.
Noah leans his forehead down to yours and your lips are only a few centimeters a part.
“You trust me… don’t you, Sugar?,”
Immediately weak in the knees, noticing he’s already entering into his persona. You nod feverishly against him.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,”
A gentle peck on your lips has you leaning in for more when he pulls away.
“Take your hands off the wheel and let me drive,” is all he says before turning his back to you to unlock the door.
Time seemed to slow down when he pushed it open, a part of you wanted to close your eyes, still feeling nervous about seeing a space he deemed so private that he kept it locked up. Your hand is in his once more with him pulling you through the threshold as he flicks the light on.
Red fluorescent lights filling your vision.
It smells so good in here and you wonder how, considering what possibly goes down based simply off of what’s in here.
The bed frame looks like one luxurious bird cage, bolted to the floor and a sheer canopy draping over it. There’s bars hanging from the ceiling with cuffs hanging from them.
Open cupboards of different items like floggers, paddles then another filled with masks and gags, one full of toys. There’s a full fridge in here with a clear door and you can see different replenishing beverages and snacks.
This is his sex dungeon
“Something like that,” he spoke aloud.
Realizing your thoughts weren’t kept in your head you avert your gaze to the ground.
“I don’t use it much other than personal uses, any time I have a scene with someone I meet them at theirs. I’ve just been keeping this a secret until I found the one worthy to be in here,”
Your eyes widen as you raise your head to meet his.
“M-me?!,” poking yourself in the chest, “I… you mean me?!,”
His shoulders tremble in soft laughter, shaking his head at your disbelief.
“This entire time, I’ve just been wanting to bring you here but you never expressed any interest in the scene,” he played with your fingers in his grasp, something he always found comfort in doing.
“I didn’t know if you’d take me seriously. I’m not exactly… what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive,”
“You’re exactly what comes to mind,” he brings you to a plush crimson couch, covered in velvet material. When your ass meets the cushions, he’s reaching to a table beside you to light a candle, bringing it over with him as he lowers himself into his knees before you.
“I’m going to go over a few house rules while I get you relaxed okay?,”
You offer a simple nod and he smirks,
“Rule number one- I always need a verbal answer. I don’t want to leave anything to the imagination and possibly misread body language, got it?,”
Swallowing thickly you nod once more, “I understand,”
“Good girl,” his hands make their way onto your calves, kneading the tight muscles, causing an involuntary moan in which you try to subdue.
“Number two, don’t be shy,” he says plainly, “I know this is new but you know me and I’m here to keep you safe so don’t shy away from me. Be as vocal and as emotional as you need to be,”
“I understand,” you answer once more. Your eyes watch his hands, curious when he picks up the candle, the flame flickering in his eyes.
“Three. Trust that I will never hurt you outside of what you ask for,” he tips the candle and a quiet gasp leaves your lips, quickly turning into a moan when the wax drips onto your tired legs, Noah instantly setting the candle down and massaging it into your skin.
“Pheromone massage candles,” he answered your unasked question.
“Four. I usually go by King during these scenes but since this is new for you I don’t want you to feel detached from me so call me Noah until you feel comfortable, okay?,”
“Y-yes,” your eyes cross slightly while his thumbs work into the sore soles of your feet. This was helping so much and just from this simple interaction, your core is buzzing already.
“Five. If you need to stop or directions are not okay or unclear- speak up. I’m going to need you to pick a safeword for me,”
You squirm on the couch, becoming putty in his hands as they move from your feet to your calves and now your thighs.
“Kingdom,” you answer with ease, if he goes by King might as well make it coordinate right?
“Good one,” he plants a kiss by your knee, “Rule six, no negative self talk or thoughts. I may degrade you but I will always follow it up with praise. You are loved and cared about, you understand me?,”
“I understand,” you nod.
“Seven. Have fun and let go. We are here together so remember I will always catch you,”
With his last rule he spreads your thighs, squeezing them to get a reaction out of you.
“Do you have any rules for me?,” eyes dark yet caring in the red glow.
“Don’t hold back,” an embarrassing whimper escapes, “I know I’m a rookie but I can take it and I know you’ll take care of me just…,”
Your hands grab his, holding them tight so he knows how bad you need this.
“Just don’t hold back. I need it, I know I’m safe so I just need you to hurt me, I need you to help me turn my brain off and surrender myself to you,”
Your words from earlier echoed in Noah’s head and he thought they were a crock of shit.
I’m not exactly what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive
Bullshit. You were perfect.
He wipes his hands on a towel that he kept on the table with the candle, setting it and the candle back in their original spot when he was finished.
His hands are now sheltering your face because he can see your mind is still running a million miles a minute.
“What do you need from me right now?,”
You were embarrassed to say it.
“What were rules 2 and 7, Sugar?,” his voice pulled you from your own thoughts.
“To not be shy and to let go,”
He nodded in understanding, “So why are you breaking my rules and overthinking?,”
God, he was so good at this. The twinge of disappointment in his tone had your heart aching, you wanted to be good.
“Can.. c-can you smack me?,” your voice was barely a whisper and you knew he wouldn’t let that slide.
“Speak up, baby. Closed mouths don’t get fed,” his thumbs were rubbing such comforting circles on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but oblige.
“I need you to smack me,” it wasn’t a plea, it was a declaration.
Noah just reads your face. Studying your expression to see if there’s any doubt, any hesitation. He stands you up and then he leans in to kiss you with a sort of need that you’ve never been kissed with before. You two are breathing heavily in between and you can barely keep up. Your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, just wanting him to consume you.
He pulls away but before you can protest, you feel the searing heat of his open palm meeting your cheek. A gasp of surprise comes from you and yet again you’re left with no time to react when he does it again.
“Fuck,” you mewl, “More,”
He answers your demand with a little more power behind this one, the pain feeling so good you almost fall to your knees but luckily, he held you upright.
“Turn it off,” he says through clenched teeth, smacking you once more. If you were naked you know for a fact you’d be dripping down your legs, “Turn it off, Sugar. I see you trying,”
Hand on your neck, he’s pushing you backward and each step is another slap until he pins you to the wall, you can feel your eyes burn as the tears of desire being to rise.
You need this so bad.
“I said. Turn,” a harder slap, “It. Off!!,” with one more smack, you’re practically howling at how exceptional it felt, eyes closed as you welcome the sting that lingered on your flesh, feeling the heat running down to your neck and up to your temples.
Your head feels like you’re in limbo and when you open your eyes, he can see the change in yours and you can see the change in his.
You’re both in your designated positions. He has his hands on the wheel now. Your brain was off and the part of you that needed to be taken care of has entered the chat, the stressed version was locked away in a dark cell of your mind and would stay there until it was time to let her out.
“There she goes,” his hand soothed your cheek and you were liquid in his hands
“Thank you,” doe eyes shining up at him, he feels so proud of himself.
“Oh baby, it’s my pleasure,” he cooed, “Can you be good and undress for me?,”
“Can you help?,” your body was feeling fuzzy, like you had a few shots and were floating now. You felt like if you tried to undress yourself you’d topple over.
“Of course,” he felt gratified to be asked.
One article of clothing at a time until you were bare in front of him, pinned against the crimson paint on the wall.
“How are we doing? You okay?,” a kiss planted to your neck, his large hands running up and down your body had you sighing in content.
“On cloud nine,” you answer dreamily. You were in a daze, this room felt like your own amusement park now.
A room you once weren’t allowed in because this is his sanctuary. How many others were close to being brought here? How many others did he put in a hypnotic state?
“Put her away,” his gruff voice echoed in your ears, “She doesn’t get to come back. Lock it away,”
He could tell through your body language that you were starting to overthink again.
“Do we need to stop?,”
“No,” rearing back to look him in his eyes so he can see how bad you truly need and want this, “No. It’s turned off,”
“That’s what I need to hear,”
He brings you back over to the couch you were on a few minutes ago but this time he’s sitting on the cushion and he’s positioning you over his lap.
“Think you can handle a few spanks?,”
“Uh huh!,” excitement coursing through your veins, body jolting when you feel his lips press against the supple flesh that he was soon about to tenderize.
But first, he had to feel you. He has to feel your wetness coat his fingers. So his fingers trace figures on the back of your thighs and you’re jutting your ass up to get him to touch you, he delivers a light smack as a warning.
“Patience,” is all he speaks. Slowly but surely, his middle finger swipes your clit and lightly presses into your entrance.
He pulls a long drawn out moan from you when he fully pushes his finger inside. A quiet growl emits from his chest and your toes are curling.
“Noah pleeeeaaase,” you grip his calves, eyes rolling at his slow movement of removing his finger and reinserting it.
“What do you need, Sugar?,” you could hear the smile in his tone. The way he was speaking to you and touching you just made the anxiety melt away.
“Wanna feel your fingers. Always wanted to feel your fingers,” you couldn’t help but be unapologetically honest. For years you’ve watched his hands and how he talks with them, how he uses them to hold multiple things at once, how he sucks on them when he gets ice cream or ranch on them.
But until now you’ve always buried your desires deep.
“Oh yeah?,” without a warning, he’s stretching you open and you’re bracing yourself against his thighs, spreading your legs as open as possible so you’re not falling off his lap.
“You feel so good, Sugar,” he affirms, “So wet for me, so fucking warm,”
His fingers were reaching so deep it was intoxicating, never having experienced anyone with fingers as long as his has you going cross eyed.
“Thank you, Noah!!!,” your walls pulsing around his middle and ring fingers while his free hand soothed your ass cheeks before taking a big strike against them, the sound of his palm meeting your flesh bouncing off the walls.
“You’re so welcome, baby,” he picks up the pace of his fingers and he can feel the way you’re trying to get friction on your clit.
“Nuh uh,” he spanks you once more, “Be good, take what I give you,”
“Please,” singing a beautiful tune, you just want to let go for him, you want to crumble in his lap, you want him to feel what he does to you.
“Please what?,” another strike on your ass and another curl of his fingers inside you.
“W-wanna cum for you,”
“Is that right?,” there’s that teasing tone again, it makes you feel small but it only tightens the coil in your core. He moves his fingers with expertise inside of you and you think you’re about to orgasm strictly off of penetration which is rare for you. You almost always need clitoral stimulation.
“Please. Please. Wanna be good for you, wanna let go for you,”
You two have only just begun and you’re already a mess. You can hear the squelching, you can hear your heart thumping in your ears, you’re trembling.
You’re a fucking mess in his grasp.
“I think we should make your first one easy enough to earn,” he observed, positioning his knee right under your pelvis, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers stroked the deepest depths of you.
“C‘mon, Sugar. Give it to me. Let it out,”
Your nails are digging into his calf and you’re drooling, rocking back into him but he didn’t mind this time, he’s enjoys seeing how desperate you are to cum, not just for yourself but for him.
You want to offer all you can to him. All of your emotions, all of your whimpers and cries, your mind, body and spirit.
“I’m gonna… can I cum, Noah? Please”
He gives a hum of approval and he can feel it, he watched your body swell with a deep breath and watched it deflate as you let out the most beautiful, guttural moan he’s ever heard.
His fingers halt their movements inside of you and he makes sure to rub your back to bring you back down.
“You’re okay,” a soft murmur leaves his lips while he slowly removes his fingers from your soaked hole, sitting you up and repositioning you in his lap so you’re straddling him.
“Be good and open for me,”
You follow his directions and bask in the glory of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, making you taste yourself. You collect your flavor but before you can close your mouth and swallow it down, he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth to taste you.
Your eyes instantly roll in the back of your head, relishing the taste of his mouth sharing the taste of you.
“Need you,” you pull away, hands cupping his face as if he’s made of glass, “Always needed you,”
His gaze softens for a moment, letting you know that ‘regular’ Noah hears you, that it’s not just his persona hearing those words.
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he purred, “You have me, Sugar. Just as I have you,”
With ease, he lifts you up and walks with you to the cupboards.
“Pick a toy, a gag and a restraint and come to the bed when you’ve made your decision,” a kiss is given to your temple and he walks away, leaving you to make your choices without any pressure. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and makes his way to the bed.
He has so many trinkets to choose from. He just stock piled all of this stuff until he found the one? He really is a stickler for this kind of thing.
After some careful self-deliberation, you grabbed your chosen items and made your way over to him. Noah sat patiently within the doorway of the cage-like bed.
“I chose these,” you offer them to him and he gave an intrigued ‘hmph’
A rose, a silicone bar gag and wrist-to-thigh cuffs.
“Good choices, baby” standing up and kissing your forehead, he moves out of the way so you can see the bed. Silk red sheets, chains hanging from the bars, and the sheer canopy keeping secrets in with just a glimpse of what was to come.
“Climb up,” he pats your ass and you do just that, at a leisure pace so he can get a good view of you from behind. When you sit flat, you see him entering and closing the door behind him.
This feels much more intimate than just any ole bedroom. The lighting, the enclosed space, all of it made you feel closer to Noah.
“Before we start, take a drink for me,”
“But I’m okay,”
“Did I ask that?,” he tilts his head, eyes squinting as if to tell you ‘watch it.’
“I’m sorry,”
He cracks open the bottle and holds it to your lips, giving you a knowing look as if to say ‘I told you so’ when you drink down half the bottle.
When you’re finish he sets it to the side and hovers over you until you’re laying back on your elbows, eyes not leaving his.
“How are we doing? You still okay?,”
“I’m perfect, Noah,” a tender smirk made its way into your face, “I know I’m safe,” you assure.
“Are you okay? I know this kind of thing takes time, just don’t want you to feel pressured,” you inquire.
“There you go overthinking,” he kisses your neck, “For you, it’s easy to turn on. You never took notice to how I always took control? No matter what we did?,”
He’s got a point. Any time you two went out grocery shopping because you were anxious and didn’t want to go alone, he hooked his arm with yours, took your list and did all the shopping. Any time you two went out to the movies, he’s picking your snacks and drinks and doing all the talking. A hand on the small of your back each time you two were out, always helping you zip up your dresses or fastening your necklaces.
It was subtle, but it was always there.
“I was made for you. I was made to take care of you,” he continues his trail of kisses, planting them wherever he pleases, “And you let me. Which means you were always mine,”
A relaxed sigh is released at his words. He’s right and you know it.
“So, knowing this. I’m more than okay and am filled with joy of knowing that I get to break you and put you back together again, over and over,”
Bucking your hips up wasn’t a good idea, considering he pinned them down and got your restraints ready.
“I need this. Noah, please I need you” a shameful cry bounces off the bars of the enclosure you found yourself in.
“I know,” he growled, fastening your hands into the cuffs and attaching the other bands to each thigh. With your hands tied to your thighs now, you wouldn’t be able to touch him.
“You need me to wreck you. To hurt you so that the stressors of your everyday light aren’t plaguing your brain for once,”
He squeezes your cheeks so your lips are parted and lifts your head up to move your hair out of the way so he can tighten the gag.
You looked so beautiful like this.
“I’m here to give you just that,” he grabs the rose, “I don’t care how many orgasms it takes. I’m going to reduce you to nothing and fill you back up with worth again. I will end you and resuscitate you over and over again until you’ve had enough. Is that understood?,”
“Yeth,” you slur around the gag.
“Good,” on his knees, between your legs, he turns the rose on and the low hum fills the space, he leans forward to spit on your nipples before placing the opening of the toy over your harden buds, your back swiftly arching off the bed with a moan around the silicone.
He’s at this for a while, just teasing your nipples, biting at your jawline, groaning in your ear until you’re leaking onto the silk sheets.
You’re begging around the gag but he just teasingly looks at you as if he can’t understand you. But he knows. He knows where you need him.
“It’s a lot, are you sure you can handle it on your clit?,” he smirks so devilishly it’s almost scary. But the twinge of fear makes you ache.
“Mmhmm mmhm!,” already drooling around the bar, you nod feverishly, just wanting to feel something, no, needing to feel something.
You get what you desire when he sits back up on his heels to spread your legs even wider to get a perfect view of your swollen clit, glistening as your arousal is painted all over your core.
When he finally attaches the toy to your clit, your toes are curling, your eyes are rolling and your back is arching.
Maybe you weren’t ready for this, maybe you should have gotten a wand or something.
“Relax,” he says simply, using his own legs to pin yours down.
“Breathe, Sugar. Just breathe. Look at me,” he sees the way your eyes are swimming with tears and it brings him satisfaction, especially when your chest is trembling from him keeping the buzzing toy on your sensitive bundle.
“It’s a lot, I know but I wouldn’t give you more than you could handle,”
He slowly inhaled with you, guiding you to calm you down but it was just too much, so much that you’re already cumming and groaning behind the gag which causes Noah to darkly chuckle.
But he keeps it there. He keeps the rose there and you’re convulsing under him when he sinks his fingers into your messy core.
“That was pathetic,” he looked into your eyes, “And you didn’t even ask,”
He got so much amusement out of your whimpers, how the hell were you supposed to ask with a gag in your mouth?! But maybe that’s the point? It’s a set up for him to milk you as a form of torture.
It was sadistic but, you were the masochist after all.
“You’re so creamy,” he said in a daze, absolutely obsessed with the way you’re painting his fingers, your walls pulsing around his appendages as if they’re trying to draw them in and keep them there.
“Noaaaaaaahh!!,” your cries muffled, your face so wet from the tears and the spit but Noah finds it beautiful, if he could, he’d paint how you looked right now and frame it, get it tattooed even.
“You can do it. You asked for this, remember?” His eyes rolled at the feeling of his fingers deep inside, drenched in your offering, his tattoos glistening, catching his eye in the ruby lighting. He just wanted to be bottomed out in you already.
You’re calling for him from around the gag, breasts shaking as you’re overcome with yet another blinding climax. Your nails dig into your thighs, just wanting to dig them into Noah’s instead and pull him toward you. You wanted him, you craved him.
“Sshhhh. You’re okay, Sugar. You’re doing so well for me,” he picked himself up off your legs and grabbed a rag to wipe the spit that dribbled down your chin, “I’m gonna turn you over, need you to give me one more before you have me. One more and we can take the cuffs and gag off okay?,”
Sitting you up, his hand supporting the back of your head as he checks over you, making sure you’re okay.
“Do you need anything? A break, water?,” he breaks character for a moment
With a verbal “Nuh uh” behind the bar, you let him position you like a Barbie, letting him move your legs, manually arching your back and propping a pillow under your head so you were comfy and could breathe.
You feel him leave open mouthed kisses on your ass, biting the pillowy skin just to hear you hum in delight.
“Can’t wait to give you what you want,” Noah positions himself under you so he can stare right up at your leaking heat, no matter the angle, it was a mesmerizing sight to see, “But first, I just need to taste you.”
He exasperated in desperation before using his hands to grab your ass, bringing you down and lifting his head to feast.
Your fists are clenching in your restraint and your moans are flowing from your chest like a river. His tongue worked your overstimulated clit, suckling and licking. He ate as if you were the finest delicacy, trying to savor but also consuming you with greed.
Your body just responded to him without a fight, you were his puppet and he pulled the strings but you happily danced for him, giving him what he wanted. Yet again you feel his fingers push into you, you’d never get enough of his fingers, he knew how to use them and he knew how to use you. You were a howling mess against the pillow when you feel your next orgasm approaching. How did he expect you to stay up like this? Your legs felt like jelly and you were falling a part.
“You can do it, baby. I feel it. You’re almost there,” he murmured against your pussy, “One more and you can have what you want but you gotta show me you want it,”
Oh God did you want it, and bad! Your head felt fuzzy, your body was playing tug of war, fighting between it being too much versus you wanting it.
You gave in. Pussy pulsing, chest burning from hyperventilating and muscles aching. Despite it all, you’re cumming for him again, giving into your deep craving to just be his doll.
“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he cheers, drinking you in. He pulls himself away to position you on your back, quickly working to remove your restraints and gag.
“Sit up for me, Sugar,”
Your head lulling to the side, both of you giggling about it. He has you drink some more water and cleans your face with the towel again.
“I’m ready,” it was a simple whisper, “Show me what I’ve been missing. Please, King,”
The title takes Noah by surprise. He thought it would take a few sessions to get you fully under his spell but, you truly were for him. You were ready to bow to him, to fulfill every quest he bestowed upon you.
It kind of pulled at his heart strings. Whenever he was out in the scene he only cared about showing the subs a good time, a time for him and them to release and never see each other again. But this, this was euphoria.
“Lie down for me,” he hums, taking off his lounge wear and boxers so he’s bare just like you are.
He was a beautiful man to begin with but to see him like this in all his glory? It had you feeling like royalty. Others got to see him, yes, but you… only you get to see him.
He makes sure you’re comfortable before he inches forward, the tip nudging your clit and he grabbed your hands when you flinched away at the contact, lacing his fingers between yours.
“Don’t run away from me,” his lips were so plump, glistening with his spit and you just know they still taste like you.
“Call it before I ruin you,” he gave you one more chance.
“Do it” it wasn’t a teasing phrase. You wanted it. You have yearned long enough and now your wish is his command. His pins your clasped hand to the bed and takes your free hand, guiding it to his cock.
“Take it,” he ordered.
He was a perfect mix of girth and length, a mouth water red tip that shines with precum, two prominent veins, yeah- he was going to destroy you.
You couldn’t help but stroke him, watching the way his mouth hung open and his eyes closed gently, this is the face of a King all right. Scooting closer to him, not wanting to leave any space, you slapped his tip against your own clit, the breath of both of you hitching in tandem. The noises that emitted from between the two of you, while you rubbing him against your entrance, were sinful.
“Show me what you’ve been wanting. Show me how bad you need me,” he growls, hiking both of your legs around his waist.
You guide him into you slowly, the eyes of both of you going wide, rejoicing in the way he fit in you like a missing puzzle piece, filling you up to make you whole.
“Fuck!,” choking on your own spit, the heels of your feet pulled him in so he could bottom out. You needed to catch your breath because you know once he gets started, you’ll lose it again. He drew in a shaky breath, bewitched by how good you feel.
“Give it to me,” you squeeze his hand, “Make me yours. I want to be yours. Ple- Oooooh fuck!!,”
His hips drew back and snapped into you, cutting you off as the pleasure drowns you. He kept the stacattoed pace, just taking in your expressions.
But then he saw the way you looked at him, it was a look of complete surrender, a look that says “I love you, I trust you”
It was a look to tell him to let go.
So, he used his free hand to take your thigh and press it back so your knee was almost touching your chest. This wasn’t Noah, the King was here and he was going to show you exactly why he was given that title.
You’re pinned beneath him from all angles and it’s overwhelming. His chain dangling in your face with each thrust, his voice smooth like suede as he talks you through it.
“Just like that, pretty girl. Take what I give you,”
Your moans slipped out like a hot knife to butter, he was fucking you through the mattress, bodies tangled and noises echoing through the room, he was making you melt.
“S-so fucking good!!,” the tears were spilling from your eyes and he just kissed them away without missing a beat.
“I know, Sugar,” he bows his head into your neck to leave a trail of bites, sinking his teeth into your dewy skin, your cries of surprise being music to his ears. You welcomed the pain of his biting, he had beautiful teeth and you always wondered what it would feel like for him to bite you. You don’t care if any marks are left. You’re his, he can leave marks for you to brandish all he wants.
“I’m so proud of you,” he grunted into your ear, “Coming to me all vulnerable, wanting me to take care of you and now you’re taking it like the good little slut you always wanted to be,”
“Please!,” your free hand tangles in his hair, your other makes crescent shaped dents in the back of his hand that held yours, “Please, fuck! Don’t stop!,”
Noah lifts his head to see the spaced out look in your eyes, half lidded and dick drunk. He never thought he’d see you like this.
“Please what? Use your words,” he pulls back from you to watch the look of despair on your face when he slows down.
Your words are caught in your throat, finding it hard to make a coherent sentence.
“Please, what, Sugar? Don’t make me ask again” He lets your leg go to grab the bar of the caged bed above your head, preparing to pick up his pace when you admit what you need.
“W-wanna cum around your cock,” it was a strong wail, one of pure carnal desire.
“You need it that bad?,” he teases.
“King, please. I need it so bad!!,”
The wind is knocked out of you as he sets his pace, rolling his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing against every sensitive spot within you, causing you both to be vocal. A harmony unmatched. His whimpers fueling you to make it to the finish line. He wasn’t ashamed of the noises he made, especially because he saw how they impacted you.
He let go of your hand and smacked you just like he did earlier, eyes rolling once again as the heat only adds to the pleasure.
“More, please, please, please!!,”
“Such a dirty fucking slut. Getting off to her King slapping her around like a rag doll,” he smacked you again, earning another loud cry from you, he could feel just how much you love it, he can feel it when you clench around him each time his hand meets your cheek.
“Yes, yes,” your eyes never left his, not shying away.
“You like it when it hurts?,” another slap delivered, “You like it when it hurts knowing I’ll make it all better?,”
“Fuck!,” the tears just keep spilling but he knows they’re tears of release, of pleasure, they’re tears for him. Another offering to the King.
“I’m gonna make it all better, Sugar. Just keep being good and taking it, okay?,”
“Y-yes,”
He grabs your cheeks, squishing them together again so his tongue can slide in your mouth effortlessly. Teeth clashing, spit being swapped, the energy between you two was potent, a potion that you’d keep coming back for, drinking it down without being asked.
“I wanna cum for you,” biting his bottom lip, you pull back with a fucked out smirk on your face, “I wanna make a mess. I wanna show you that I’m worthy,”
“I already know that you are, baby,” his thumb tracing small circles onto your clit, his other releasing the bar and coming to wrap around your neck, “I know you’re my pretty little slut who will do anything to stay in my good graces,”
When his hand began to squeeze at your neck you were done for. Your moans came out in tremors, you were clutching onto him in anywhere you can. You groan at the loss of contact on your clit until his thumb is replaced with the same toy he wrecked you with earlier.
“You’re gonna take this toy from me. You’re going to be a good girl for your King and make yourself cum on my cock. You hear me?,” his voice was dangerously low now, letting you know there was no negotiation.
With a shaking hand you snake your hand between the two of you, grabbing the bulbous toy from him and holding it against yourself despite your body telling you to pull away.
“You’re doing great, baby,” he assures, a soft kiss placed on your lips, “Just focus on me. I’m right here,”
He was so close now. One hand on your throat and the other holding the back of your head, pressing your foreheads together.
“My King,” you gasp, chest heaving as you feel yourself ready to fall off the edge.
“I’m gonna catch you. I’m always going to catch you, baby,”
Your eyes stared deeply into his and you just sobbed, needing this more than anything and you just cried. Getting fucked within an inch of your life so good you’re crying was not something you expected to happen considering your past endeavors with men who only cared about getting their own rocks off.
“I know. I know,” he’s still driving his hips deep into you and you’re circling the toy lightly on your swollen, cum soaked bud, you were almost there.
“Give it to me, Sugar. Give me what you owe me,”
And that was all she wrote.
With one deep gasp to fill your lungs he delivers a strong thrust, your fingers trembling around the toy so hard you accidentally turned it up to the next level and you were done for.
You practically screamed as Noah siphoned your orgasm out of you. You were shuddering beneath him as he kept thrusting, still talking you through it.
“You’re okay. You did so good for me, I’m right here. Fuck!”
With one last searing kiss, Noah is stilling his movements, emptying himself inside of you, both of you practically giving each other mouth to mouth CPR as you try to catch your breath. His head has fallen in the crook of your neck and your eyes are fighting to stay open.
“You can come back down now. Come back to me,” he mutters.
You slowly regain all your senses back. Taking in your surroundings and what just happened. As everything hits you, your cries echo in the room.
“Hey,” Noah is quick to sit both of you up and set you in his lap, “What’s going on in that head of yours?,”
Swallowing your cries and wiping your eyes you search for him, eyes connecting, the same beautiful brown eyes you could point out in any crowd.
“Thank you,” is all you say, “I needed that. More than you know,”
He smiles in relief, worried that the scene had somehow upset you.
“We got to get you cleaned up. We’ve got some aftercare to do and some things to talk about,”
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Once both of you were all bathed, Noah took the time to moisturize your skin, apply soothing lotion to your ass and even being gentle in doing your skincare routine for you.
Once he has you curled up in his bed, he went to go clean the other room and brought back some snacks and water with electrolyte packets.
He takes it upon himself to feed you all while affirming how good you were. That you’re loved and cared for, not wanting to leave any room for doubt to sneak in.
“You okay to talk?,” he questions.
You sit up against the headboard, worried about what this talk can pertain to.
“I see the cogs turning, relax,” he soothes, “If you want this like I want this we need to talk,”
“I want this,” you answer definitively. He can’t help but laugh at your excitement.
“I know it’s a little too late to say that I don’t want to rush into things but, I’d like to rewind a bit and start at square one,”
“And that is?,”
“A date,” he answers simply. Sure you’ve gone on friend dates all the time but this is different, this is serious, “I want to build it from the ground up. I know we’ve been friends for ages and have built trust but this is different and I want to build a stronger foundation because I want this to work,”
You take in his words, listening as he goes over his requests and needs for the relationship. You gave him your own list of demands and found yourselves giddy at the fact that yes, you two are a living cliche.
But who cares?
It was you and Noah against the world now.
Til Kingdom Come.
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This idea was burning in my head for ages and I had to write it!!
Please be sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, thank you for your support!! 🥹
~Berry 🫐
tags: @lma1986 @thisbicc @theroyaldixon @whatitsdecending
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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago
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Zuko x reader - I want a future with you
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Zuko x water tribe/bender reader! Slime three years after the war he wants to propose to reader and so he ask Katara and Sokka about marriage traditions within the tribe and he carves a betrothal necklace?? And the readers reaction!! Thank you - Anon💜
Zuko gazed at you from across the water village as you smiled and sat in the snow, throwing snowballs with some of the children.
He was so utterly, and deeply in love with you, and he had been since he first laid eyes on you.
You were captivating and he was so proud and happy to be able to say that he was courting you.
But he didn’t want to just court you.
He looked around for Sokka, wanting to ask him about this, but when he couldn’t see Sokka, he began looking for Katara, and he found them both together.
“Zuko? We thought you left this morning.” Sokka said.
“I was supposed to. I have a question for you both actually.”
They nodded and the three of them went to the side to talk privately.
“I know how things work in the fire nation, traditions and everything. But I want to know how they work for the water nation.”
“Is there anything specific you want to know?” Katara smiled.
Zuko glanced around nervously and turned back to the duo.
“Marriage traditions…” he mumbled.
“You want to marry (Y/N)?!”
Zuko slapped his hand over Sokka’s mouth.
“Shut up!” Zuko hissed.
“Aw that’s so cute!” Katara beamed.
Sokka slapped the fire lords hand away and share a look with his sister and they both nodded their heads.
“We can help you, but it’ll take a few days.”
They took him away and explained everything he needed to know, gathered all the materials for him and they showed him what he could do.
“Do you have any ideas in mind?”
“Not yet, but (Y/N)s come to the fire nation next month so I’ve got time, thank you so much.”
The whole way home Zuko thought about what he wanted to do, and for days he was stuck up until he looked at the bracelet you had made him.
The little waves you had carefully carved, and he smiled brightly, a new idea entering his head.
He spent nearly a week working on it, trying to make sure it was perfected, then he put it in a little box on his nightstand while he waited.
When you arrived to the fire nation you ran through the city heading up to the palace.
Zuko was just leaving when he saw you running over.
The fire Lord opened his arms and you ran into them, and he laughed softly, wrapping his arms around you, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head.
“You’re early…” he whispered.
“There was a storm coming in, so I set off a day early.”
He hummed a little and nodded his head, watching as some of the guards come over with some of your things to bring them inside.
“I have a meeting, but meet me in the garden in an hour.”
You nodded and jumped up, softly kissing him and you ran away.
Zuko smiled as he watched you run into the palace to go to your shared room.
He knew exactly what you were doing, and he had no issue with it as he had the box in his pocket for safe keeping.
He could hardly pay attention during the meeting, all his thoughts were of you.
The moment it ended Zuko made his way to the garden as fast as he could, and he found you walked around wrapping up in one of his jackets.
Zuko stopped, smiling softly as he watched you for a moment.
“Dear?” He called.
You looked up from the flowers you were admiring and smiled, wondering over.
You stood in front of him and he reached out, taking your hands in his.
Zuko raised your hands and gently kissed the back of your knuckles.
“I have something for you, close your eyes and hold out your hands.”
“Oh?”
You did as he said, and you felt something being placed in your palms.
“I love you and I.. I really tried.” He said.
You opened your eyes and looked at the open box, a soft gasp leaving your mouth.
You reached out, carefully picking it up, and Zuko took the box and he set it aside.
“Do you know what this is Zuko…?”
“I do. And I hope you consider accepting (Y/N). I love you, I want to marry you.”
You smiled to yourself, running you fingers over the carvings of the water and fire nation symbols.
It was kind of messy, and you could see where he had make a few mistakes or gotten angry and accidentally burned the wood.
But it was perfect.
“I want to marry you too Zuko…”
Zuko grinned brightly and he gently took it from you, putting it around your neck and he slowly moved his hands to cradle your face.
He ran his thumbs along your cheeks.
You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, and he leant down, brushing his nose against yours.
“I’ve wanted to marry you for ages…” you whispered
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mywritersmind · 3 months ago
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CAT PARENTS - LN
pt.1
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summary : A kitten is all it takes to get two strangers in the same bed for the night. Lando likes how she doesn’t know him, Olivia likes the cat that he’s trying to take from her.
warnings: just lando, olivia, and juna being cute!
word count : 1541
⋆ ˚‧。⋆
“Oh my god!” I practically scream when I see the cat on the side of the road.
“Oh shit!” Someone grabs the cat before I can even get close. I look up to see who just stole this beautiful creature from me and am a bit taken aback.
He’s not too tall, but quite cute. He's got curly hair that’s cut into a baby mullet and a gray t-shirt that shows off his arms that are holding the kitten.
He blinks at me, making me realize I've been staring for probably too long, “That’s my cat.” I say quickly.
“Oh?” Fuck, he’s got an accent.
“You’re british?” I may have had a few drinks tonight, considering we are on the side of the road in Miami, the cat and the accent are throwing me off.
“You got that from one word?” He looks at me, confused, “Did you really bring your cat to go out and party in Miami?”
“I- No…” I glance back to see my friends who are still in line at the club, “But it’s the cat distribution system!” He laughs at me. LAUGHS.
What the fuck?
The cat snatcher sits on the curb, the cat pushing against him to get away. I sit next to him and snatch the cat right back. “She’s so cute!” I squeal as it stays still in my arms, meowing.
“Tell me more about this… cat distribution system.” I explain how people keep finding cats and it’s meant for them. He’s easy to convince, a good listener as well.
“Right then. I have to bring her home.” He sighs as if it’s a big issue.
“What? You mean I have to bring her home?” I hold the kitten closer to my chest, her light and dark brown fur brushing against me.
He frowns, “I found her first.”
I scoff, “She clearly likes me more. And I saw her first, you just got there quicker.”
He shakes his head, “Love, I still picked her up first.”
I furrow my brows, “Well, Love, You’re a random man and Juna and I don’t know you.” the kitten meows as if she agrees.
“Juna!? You can’t have already named her!”
“Ever heard of Clairo?”
“Okay- I’m Bob. What's your name?” He holds out his hand. I don’t take it.
“Bob?” I let out a laugh, “If you think I believe that, or would let you take Juna with that name, you’re on something.”
There’s something about the small smile he pulls that makes me feel weird and warm. He runs his hand through his hair, his ring catching the light, “My name is Lando.”
“Okay, Lando.” I roll my eyes, “Odd name but better than Bob. Why did you lie?”
His face scrunches up, “You honestly don’t know who I am?”
“Clearly not. If you’re that arrogant then I bet you’re not even known.” He smiles at this and stands up, offering me his hand.
I take it, standing and pulling down my black mini skirt as I do so. “She looks hungry.” My stomach growls at the exact time he says that. “So do you.”
I don’t know what to do. I’m staying with my friend this weekend and she is allergic to cats. I have no car and definitely not enough money to go buy things for a kitten. “Let’s go then.
I register that he’s speaking to me, “Excuse me?”
“If you won’t let me take her then we’ll have to go together.”
His words are what landed me in a pet store twenty minutes later.
I assured my friends that I would be okay and Lando made his friends prove he’s not some freak. His friends met mine and showed his instagram which made them agree way too quickly. He didn’t let me see it.
I gathered that he must be pretty famous or at least rich considering the McLaren we got into could not have been cheap. I saw him cringe when Juna had an accident in the front seat, yet he stayed quiet.
We’ve got Juna in a huge bed in the cart; food, treats, and toys surrounding her. “You never told me your name.” Lando pushes the cart down an abandoned isle, rightfully so since it is five minutes until closing.
We’ve been so busy that I honestly forgot I don’t actually know Lando.“Olivia.” I give in, “Liv, to my friends.”
“Alright Liv, are you from here?”
“Woah- we are not at friend status.” I shake my head, crossing my arms and shivering. I am still in platform boots, a mini skirt, and tube top. The few people working are shooting me dirty looks.
“Come on…” He frowns, leaning against the cart.
“Tell me your deal, then maybe I'll let you.”
“A fact for a nickname? I’m down.” He places the items, minus Juna, on the register. I explain my money situation but he doesn’t even think twice before he swipes his card. After we’re all back in the car he turns to me.
“I’m a driver.” He starts the car.
“Like a limo driver? Lando, you're not very good at this game.” Juna sleeps in my lap after she devoured a can of food and some water.
“A formula one driver…” He pulls out of the parking lot.
I know nothing about the sport except that it’s loved by my father and rich european people. “I don’t believe you.”
He eyes me and hands me my own phone that he’s carrying, “Lando Norris.” He says his last name.
“Quite the name you’ve got. Meant for fame, I fear.” He tries to hide his smile but he’s shit at it. I bite my lip and put my phone down, “I don’t want to look you up.”
“Why?”
“I want to learn about you, from you.” I shrug.
“Alright Liv…” He grins as he uses my nickname, “What do you do?”
I sigh and lean back in my seat, “I work in movies.”
“Really?”
I nod, “Yup. Mostly set design and some background stuff but one day I want to produce my own.” He listens intently, “So Lando… Why did you become an F1 driver?”
We go back and forth like this for thirty minutes until he pulls up to his hotel.
“Oh…” I look up at the fancy building, “You really want to bring a cat up there?”
He doesn’t say anything, just hands off his keys to the valet and grabs all the bags, leaving me with Juna. I’m amazed at everything we see, even the elevator is fancy with a big mirror that reminds me to wipe my under eyes that have mascara on them.
We walk to his room and as he opens the door for me my jaw drops, “Fuck, Norris.” I look around the huge room. It’s got a king sized bed, a bathroom with a tub and a shower, a couch, a huge TV, and the most beautiful view of the ocean.
“I won my first race here. Get a bit of special treatment.” he says like it’s the most casual thing ever.
He shuts the door and dumps everything onto the floor. We end up making a little space for Juna since we’re convinced we will lose her in this room.
Lando is in the bathroom when I text my friends about my night. They ask if he’s kissed me yet and I blush to myself, quickly explaining that it’s not that kind of night.
I’m laying on the floor, next to Juna when Lando walks back in, wearing only sweats. My eyes catch on his tanned and very fit body. “Forgot my jumper…” He says awkwardly, throwing on a blue dior hoodie as I look away and pretend to not have checked him out.
He lays on his stomach, petting the kitten's head and not meeting my eyes as he says, “If you wanna change, You could borrow some of my stuff.” I think I'm going to melt right there.
I check the time, “No… I really should go.” I sit up and he does with me.
“What?” he looks almost… sad? “You can’t leave Juna though.
“I know… But you can deal with a kitten alone.” I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave.
I don’t want to leave Juna.
I don’t want to leave Lando.
“Can I?” He raises a brow, “If you really want to go that’s fine. But… It’s late. And an Uber would be expensive. And it’s no trouble! Really you can take the bed.”
“Ok.” I say a bit too quick. His smile makes my heart skip a beat. Shit. Friends, Liv! Friends! Remember!? His adorable face and hilarious personality just comes as a bonus. “But you don’t have to sleep on the floor.” I laugh, “You can take the couch with Juna.”
He smiles and shakes his head, throwing a menu to me, “Order whatever, I can hear your stomach growling.”
-
note :
i love this story sm!! pt.2 coming soon!
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lushaletta · 1 month ago
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the objective and persuasive / theodore nott
pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader
warnings: swearing
summary: a tale of forbidden romance through the eyes of a lovesick theodore nott
a/n: what is this?!?! ivy actually WRITING??? unheard of! anyway.. i still do not have my ipad so my tom riddle miniseries will be on hold for a bit :( i still have more i wanna say for it! in the meantime, you may have some horrible writing in the form of my theodore nott debut! lorenzo zurzolo fine ASFFF okay bye enjoy
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
Theodore Nott is very intelligent. Maybe he’s a slacker. Maybe he puts off homework until it’s being collected during class. Maybe he has a bad habit of poor time management. But what Theodore has never been is stupid.
So why is he still here, hopelessly barking up a fruitless tree?
“Please, I just want to be with you,” he’s slurring, drunk on too much whiskey and a side of love.
You cup his face in your hands, wondering how in Merlin’s name you have Slytherin’s smartest boy with his knees on your feet, fingers clinging onto yours. It’s truly senseless; for he knows the circumstance. He knows what will happen if this is taken further. He knows it cannot be.
And yet, his hands drop to your sides, running up and down as they ride up your dress. “It’s impossible, Theo,” you say, matter-of-factly. You’ve always been quite the objective.
You swear his eyes gloss over. “Bella— oh, God, I can’t. Why don’t we make this fucking real? Be my girlfriend already.”
A sigh escapes your plush lips, the smeared makeup on it looking much nicer to Theo knowing it’s he who ruined it.
“Don’t be difficult. For my sake.”
He throws his head down, grip tightening on your hips, “What about my sake? It hurts. It hurts so bad. I just need you.”
“You need sleep.”
Theodore will regret this all in the morning. He will come to his senses and remember all the reasons a relationship with you would be futile. But for now, he’s fallen at your feet, begging like only a fool would.
And it’s hard. So hard to keep your composure. To not pull him up and into your arms and avow him forever.
Your gaze darts away quickly. You’ve had your fair share of alcohol as well and your judgement is beginning to cloud. His face wouldn’t help anything.
“I am yours. I promise. If the issue is that you doubt my loyalty, you don’t have to. I’m devoted,” he drawls, searching your eyes for any sign of weakness. He finds none.
“Theodore, please, get up,” you urge, pulling on his fingers and willing him to stand— to make it all a little less painful.
He’s firm. “Not until we try and make this work. Not until you promise.”
To crumble sounds appealing. You’d rather be the pile of mush on one’s feet than the villain to resist. Your resolve is shattering, piece by piece, with every word that leaves his mouth.
“Theo, we’ve been over this.”
He tightens his grip on your hips. “I don’t fucking care what my father has to say about it! I’ll fucking kill him! I’ll do anything for you to consider me.”
Again, you pull him up, hoping he’ll stand. At first he’s resistant, and then he sees the look you’re giving him.
He’s finally upright, now towering over you and still you don’t feel any smaller. He’d give you control if you only parted your lips to say so.
You clash against him, pulling him in for a kiss he didn’t expect. He half-thought you’d turn him away but with your haphazard attempts at silencing him, he should’ve known. He’s always been quite the persuasive.
Theodore grabs your face, swishing his thumb over your cheek with adoration to rival Romeo’s with Juliet. He’s holding you as if you’re going to disappear.
You scoff at the thought, like you’d ever disappear on him. You’re in knee-deep, letting his right hand travel your back, sending shivers down your spine and heat to your stomach.
“I love you, Theo.”
And while it’s not a promise to try, the man takes what he can get.
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on-leatheredwings · 8 months ago
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Second Chances 18+
Yandere! Older! Damian Wayne / AFAB Reader
> romantic, 18+ > tw/cw: dub-con, manipulation into sex, gaslighting(?) > request: Can we get damian gaslighting and manipulating a fem reader into sex when she tries to leave him please :? Like the typical "we've never talked about (insert issue) you know I wouldn't keep doing it if I knew it was upsetting you" and "let me make it up to you" > a/n: this reader is captain fix-a-hoe i can't > word count: 2187 > damian wayne is 21
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You crane your neck away, but he takes it as an invitation. 
“Damian, I…” you struggle. 
His hands slide forward underneath your arms, kneading your chest. It does feel good, you regret to admit. 
“Okay, okay,” you sigh, trying to inch away but his hands drag you back once more. Not by force, just by suggestion. By pulling the invisible strings that play your body like a fiddle, and it seems this morning Damian wants it to play his favorite song. You shrugged on your flimsiest robe on your way out of bed this morning, and nothing else. So here you were, paying the consequences. 
“Mm, maybe later, Damian. I have–” you gasp at a wandering digit “–to run errands today.”
You hear a huff, feel an exhale hit the shell of your ear.
“Errands? Where? With who?” 
The questions, absolutely dripping with disdain and suspicion, make something in you snap. 
“Oh, that’s it– I want to break up!” you cry out, throwing your hands up. You bound out of his hold, whirling around.  
Damian flinches backward as if struck. He had snuck up behind you in the kitchen, peppering kisses along the column of your neck. A sweet gesture, but too little, too late. Fuck waiting until you were better prepared – better scripted – to break up with Damian. You just can’t take it anymore. 
Damian stares at you in disbelief.
“You... What?”
You sigh, annoyed at the squeeze of your heart at his dismayed expression. Life as Damian’s girlfriend had been great at first. Like, really great. 
Despite his surly exterior and sharp tongue, Damian proved to be nothing less than devoted, adoring, and awfully caring. He was giving and generous. During dates and every minute besides, he was a perfect gentleman. None of your exes had ever opened doors for you. Or pulled your chairs out. Or guided you gently through a crowd of paparazzi with a protective hand on the small of your back. 
Maybe it was his unique rich kid training that made him the perfect lover for you: the presence of a British butler in his developmental years paired with the strict assassin upbringing. Or maybe, as your friends claimed, you simply had standards below sea level and were lucky enough to fall for a man who could throw money around without blinking. 
You didn’t listen to them, didn’t question your good fortune. You had been glad Damian was in your life. You had been.
“I want to break up,” you say, nearly a whimper. You look away from his shell shocked face. He must have seen this coming, right? How could he not see this coming? You two seemed to barely be getting along these days.
You recall green eyes narrowing after a glance over your outfit. “... I never liked her,” from a sneered lip, when you mention you’re going to your friend’s birthday party. The guilt tripping that occurred once you got home. The unsaid accusations of entirely untrue infidelity. You recall many more instances identical to that. How draining it all was. How you rarely seemed to go anywhere without hesitation, a niggling feeling bidding you to see how Damian felt about it first. 
Without missing a beat, Damian’s jaw hardens. He folds his arms. 
“You want to break up,” he responds in a clipped voice. “Why.” 
‘Why,’ he asks. Though it was hardly a question. He was demanding you answer for yourself. Answer for your crime of daring to maintain agency in your life. How dare you dump him? You narrow your eyes.
“You… you isolate me,” you say, folding your arms and mirroring his stance. You wish you could get angrier. Damian could really bitch out in an argument when he wanted to. Fights felt more balanced if you decided to get angry too. If you didn’t let him kick you around. But any lingering fury has simmered into hurt at this point. Decayed into you prematurely grieving a good thing gone bad. 
“You accuse me of things. You don’t trust me! Or worse, you do trust me, and still want to monopolize me because I’m something you own. I… That’s not good,” you blurt.
Damian isn’t moved. He taps his foot, and your eye twitches. “Is that all?” he says.
Perhaps you did have enough anger, after all. Before you can curse him out, Damian takes a step forward, like a piece on a chess board. 
“If I had known I would have stopped. Immediately,” Damian presses, not looking very apologetic or thoughtful. He instead looks determined. He seems entirely like his old self, at the very beginning of your then-tenuous friendship. That was three years ago, and you liked to believe he had grown a lot since. 
You roll your eyes. “Okay. Good to know,” you return flatly, unsure what he expects you to do with that information. 
Another step, and he grasps your arm. Had it been anyone besides him, you would’ve felt fear. But Damian – for all his faults – could never hurt you. Even if he already has, you think drily.
His grip trails down to your hand, and brings it to his chest, above his heart. Your own heart skips a beat at the gesture. “I would have. You’re everything to me.” His heart beats under your palm. It beats for you, he always liked to say.
You cringe. Not at his words, but because of how they’re said. Damian wields them like a weapon. And they’re effective. You already feel guilt begin to fester.
You swat your hand away, scoffing and shaking your head. “It feels like half of the time, you say that to make me feel like shit. It’s… it’s manipulative.”
“Manipulative? So every time I’ve said I… care for you, you felt manipulated?” He looks at you, in a pitiful expression crossed between crestfallen and offended. You sigh, exhausted. That’s not what I meant, you want to interject, but he continues. “I feel… very deeply. For you.” 
Even now, sharing his feelings was hard for him. You feel proud that he’s trying. You feel angry that he’s trying. You feel angry that you’re the bad guy. The croak in his voice makes you want to reach for him, but...
“Feelings… feelings aren’t enough,” you say mournfully. You hug yourself, because you need one. And giving one wasn’t his place anymore. 
You two stand in silence in his kitchen, which you’ve shared together for a year now. You glance around. You spy your colorful cooking sets, the couple's aprons that hang beside the pantry, the photos of you two at Wayne family holiday parties stuck to the fridge, and other paraphernalia.
You haven’t even left yet, but already you can see the ghost of you that will haunt this house. The hollow chill of guilt sweeps through your body, but you ignore it. You instead tread to one of the kitchen barstools under Damian’s watchful eye and settle on the seat.
“I’ll… I’ll stay at a friend’s,” you say, fighting admirably to keep your voice from cracking. “And I’ll have all my stuff packed within a week.” And you can keep the cat, you want to jest, but you luckily were born blessed with the skill of reading the room. Damian blanches, as if realizing, finally, what you were saying.
“You’re leaving.” God, his utter shock was not making things easier on you. 
“We fight all the time now, Damian,” you reason, almost pleading with him. Why was he making this so hard? The entire situation seems so … undignified. ‘Unlike him,’ is what most people would say. But no, this is entirely like Damian. Always deceptively more delicate than what meets the eye. Always trusting you to hold his heart gently. Not rend it to pieces. Guilt swirls once more, while Damian’s shock yields to insistence. 
“We fight because we’re in love,” he asserts, confessing. You are in awe of his cheeks flushing - what a pure display to be had during a break up. “People fight when they’re in love. Sometimes.” You frown, knowing he’s referring to his father’s failed relationships. What great role models, you scoff inwardly. You had zero desire to emulate that dysfunction.
“... Don’t you?” he says, a desperate lilt in his voice. You bristle. “... Love me?” And the way he says it breaks something in you.
You respond, the words like ash on your tongue, “Of course I... I do love you, Damian. But–”
“I love you, too,” he says quickly. “... so please, don’t leave.” You start to get up from your seat, unable to withstand anymore of this, when Damian falls to his knees in front of you.
You fill with mortification that Damian may start begging. And you don’t know if you can withstand that. He’s Damian Wayne. He who does not beg. 
“... Please,” he begins, as if the word was physically taxing. For him, it probably was. Damian bows his head, dots kisses on the expanse of your thighs. Each kiss is loosening your resolve. Each a balm over bitter wounds. 
“You haven’t given me a fair chance to correct myself. That… that’s not fair. That’s cruelty,” he whispers, along with other such mutterings that drive knives into your heart.
How heartless you were being. Were you going to give up on him so easily? Had he not shown he could change? The guilt swarms into an evil, dark monster. One you know you cannot defeat. You throw back your head, trembling from his butterfly kisses.
“Let me… let me make it up to you,” he says after he finds you writhing under his lips. You don’t know what to say, mesmerized by the need in his eyes and the promise in his words. “I can be better. I will be better.”
No, your mind begs you to say.
Yet looking into those green eyes, lost in its dark forest, you can’t deny him.
“... Okay,” you condone. Your okay is barely audible, weak and helpless like pollen in the wind. But it’s enough for him. It’s going to be enough for you, too. It’s okay. He’s going to change. He knows if he doesn’t, you’ll leave. You’ll leave.
You sate yourself with these thoughts, numb to Damian’s continued affection. You finally do realize he’s still licking at you, when a pair of hands gently separate your knees. 
“Damian!” you exclaim, snapping your knees shut. Your robe flutters with the action as you look at him with disbelief. “D-Damian,” you say. His eyes flutter open at the calling of his name. You sharply inhale at the lustful glaze over his pretty eyes. 
“Let me show you how deeply I feel for you,” he requests. 
But you know this is … strange. Maybe even wrong, if the uncertainty in your gut meant anything. You had just agreed to mend your relationship. You didn’t need the throes of an orgasm to complicate and muddle your feelings.
“... Please.” His voice mutters into your thigh. You’re so close you feel the vibration of the sound, and your skin prickles over with goosebumps. That’s the third ‘please’ he’s said within the hour. It's usually three a day. “Unless," Damian says, brows pinched, "you do not want me anymore.” The look on his face makes you feel sick. 
You don’t know how you can ever leave him in good conscience. Damian’s grown, yes, but he’s still that confused, frustrated boy from when you met. Still searching for acceptance and belonging.
“Yes,” you blurt. “I want you, but–”
“Then, ‘but’ nothing. You are mine.” You fill with heat, from irritation as well as arousal. It’s not as though you’d stopped being attracted to him, after all.
“I–” am not yours, you begin to combat, when Damian licks a hot stripe up your cunt that makes your mind blue screen. 
“And of course, it goes back the same way. I am yours.”
Damian lowers his head, wasting no time in suckling on your clitoris. He knows exactly how you like it, after all. Your hands leave your side and find his hair. You pull on short raven locks, enough that it’s probably painful, but Damian doesn’t protest. 
Damian hikes your legs onto his shoulders, and he’s off to work as if you hadn’t been about to break up with him just ten minutes ago. You feel whiplash. It’s all back to normal. You’re together. He’s between your legs. And despite his administrations feeling great, amazing – it also somehow feels like punishment. 
He may need you, but you need him as well. Only he can make you feel like this. Only he has ever made you feel like this. The heavy tongue that’s probing into you, the hands whose thumbs draw circles on your skin – they’re his. The pressure building in your body, the pleasure being wrought from you – he causes it. The devotion, safety, security and love you have in your life – it’s due to him. 
When you eventually finish in his mouth, you come with a whimper, eagerly being lapped up by the boy before you. He's right. You do belong to him.
And a growing part of your mind is having a hard time finding that so wrong.
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jflemings · 6 months ago
Text
— loose lips sink ships pt5
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pairing: jessie fleming x reader other parts
synopsis: whilst you stay with sam, jessie falls to pieces
warnings: angst
a/n: in honour of portland v reign this weekend
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
when you turn up on sam’s doorstep, she immediately knows that something is wrong.
your eyes are red and puffy, you’ve got a duffel bag thrown over your shoulder and you can barely give her an explanation as to why you’re seeking her out.
“i didn’t know where else to go” you quietly cry as she lets you in “i didn’t want to go to janine”
sam nods her head and takes your bag off you, throwing it into her guest room as she guides you to the sofa. wordlessly, she guides you to sit before sitting down next to you. she puts a hand on your leg “what happened?”
“jessie and i, we got into a bit of an argument and i just needed some space. i’m sorry, i should’ve called”
“no, no, you’re all good” she reassured with a comforting hand down your back “is that why you didn’t go to janine? because you didn’t want to get her involved?”
you nod “i didn’t want janine to feel like she has to choose, which i obviously do not want you to do either, but y’know”
“i understand” the midfielder smiles “well, hey, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need”
you pull her into a hug and sniffle “thank you sam”
she pulls away with a slight frown before standing “here” she says as she leads you to her guest room. she pushes the door wide open and hold an arm out “you can stay here, and you know where the bathroom is” she starts “i’ll show you how to use the coffee machine and the tv since the remote likes to give up on me”
you nod and follow her around the home that you’re already slightly familiar with. the few team bonding nights she’s held meant that you knew roughly where things were, but it was good that she thought to give you the run down anyways.
“i don’t know if you want to talk but if you do, i’m all ears” the american says
you release a breath “i didn’t know about olivia being jessie’s ex and it brought up some… issues”
her mouth forms an ‘o’ in understanding “yeah, well, i don’t think she knew about you either” sam says cautiously “she was surprised when i brought you up”
“and jessie?” you ask hopefully. you so desperately wanted sam to tell you that jessie hadn’t been shy about you, that she had proudly told olivia about you and how great your relationship is. you hope that she didn’t brush you off in favour of not ruining the moment with her ex.
“she was a bit awkward about it but she didn’t hide the fact that she’s in a relationship” sam says “i think it was just the fact that she was talking to her ex, y’know?” sam says as she flails her hands.
a small smile graces your lips as you play with your hands “classic jess” you say quietly.
coffey nods her head towards her freezer before waving her fingers at her nose “you want something for that nose? it’s still a bit swollen”
“yes please” you say gratefully
“are you off training this week, then?” she asks as she digs around her freezer, pulling out a bag of mixed vegetables and handing them to you.
you shrug “yeah, at least until the swelling goes down”
“well, hey, you’re more then welcome to hang out here” she opens the fridge and grabs two water bottles, placing one in front of you.
“thanks sam” you smile as you crack the bottle open “if you need me to do anything at all just let me know”
she takes a long sip of her water and smirks slightly “i’ve heard you make some amazing chocolate chip muffins” she trails off.
you laugh and nod “done”
jessie’s sitting on the bed with her head in her hands when she hears the front door open and close. she shoots up out of her spot and quickly walks out the the entryway, her mouth open and ready to spew explanations and apologies. words die on her tongue when she instead sees janine, her face falling flat.
“oh” she says as her mouth turns into a frown “what are you doing here?”
janine puts her keys in the tray by the door “sam called me and said that y/n showed up at her place with a bag” she pauses and purses her lips “i thought i’d come and check on you”
the canadian captain sits on the couch and leans back “we, uh, we fought” she says quietly “she said she needed time”
hesitantly, janine sits next to her best friend, folding one leg over the other “you fought over olivia?”
“yeah” jessie answers as she furrows her brows “she— she asked me if seeing olivia brought up any old feelings and i didn’t give her an answer” she shakes her head “and then she left”
“is she right?” the forward questions “did seeing olivia make you feel anything?”
“no” jessie clips “god, janine! how could you even ask me that?”
“because i saw the two of you last night jessie! it was like watching two high schoolers who have crushes on eachother”
jessie’s face morphs into a look of disgust “janine”
“imagine being her. she got hit in the nose by your ex — who she didn’t know about —then she finds out you lied to her, sees a photo on jordyn’s story and then doesn’t get an explanation when she asks you a straightforward question” janine says sternly.
jessie’s eyes begin to well up with tears as her best friend finishes talking. she drags her hands down her face and sniffles “she accused me of only being with her because she was the first person ‘shoved under my nose’ when i got to london” she laughs bitterly whilst making air quotes with her fingers “i made her doubt our whole relationship because of something i said o when we started seeing eachother”
“you have to give her an explanation”
“i don’t have one” the midfielder says “i don’t even know why i told her that olivia and i had only been together for a couple months, i just… said it and didn’t think about it”
janine hesitates, fiddling with the engagement ring on her finger. she looks sideways at jessie. her sleep-tossed hair that she’s made worse by running her hands through it, the oversized shirt she got during the world cup, her blue fluffy bed socks, the way she looks while the sleep is still wearing off. janine feels guilt pang in her chest “jess”
jessie hums whilst keeping her eyes trained on her feet “what?”
“i was the one who accidentally told y/n about olivia” she starts quickly “i said it was funny that your ex hit your current girlfriend and it all just went from there. i only said it because i thought she knew, i’m so sorry”
silence falls over the pair of them as jessie leans back “i can’t even be mad” she says quietly “because i was the one who didn’t tell her the truth.”
jessie’s voice cracks and she leans forward again, her elbows coming to rest on her bare knees. her gaze doesn’t leave the ground as she begins to cry, her lip quivers and her shoulders start to shake when she begins to sob. her head falls into her hands again “i don’t know what i’ll do with myself if i’ve just lost her over a stupid lie”
janine is quick to put an arm around her “she really will just need some time” she says quietly as she rubs jessie’s bicep “you’ve not lost her”
“you didn’t see her face” the canadian cries “she was so, so hurt”
with a quiet sigh jessie falls into janine’s chest, her shaky shoulders jolting the both of them. janine runs soothing fingers through jessie’s hair, massaging her scalp and detangling the few little knots that have tied themselves together.
it’s a hard sight to see and janine can’t help but feel guilty for it. if she hadn’t said anything then none of this would’ve happened. olivia wouldn’t be an issue and you would still be here with jessie, exactly where you belong.
jessie sniffles and she pushes off janine’s chest “i need to, uhm, clean up” she says as she gets off the couch “and have a shower” she wipes her eyes. “do you want a coffee? tea? water?”
she walks to the kitchen and immediately begins cleaning up her half eaten breakfast. she scrapes her toast into the bin and pours her now cold coffee down the sink before rinsing her dishes and placing them in the dishwasher. janine watches in shock as she watches jessie try to grasp onto normalcy in your absence.
“did you say you wanted tea?” jessie asks as she flicks her short hair over her shoulder to look at her friend.
“i didn’t say anything” janine responds
jessie pauses momentarily “water?”
janine sighs “jess, please sit back down” she stands “you don’t need to clean right now”
the muscles in jessie’s forearms protrude as she leans on the counter. her head falls forward between her shoulders “it’s just dishes”
“it’s a distraction” janine stresses “we don’t even have to talk! we can watch tv or something, just please sit down”
“i think i want to be alone” the midfielder says as she turns around “thanks for coming over but i’m okay, i’ll be fine”
“jess—”
“janine” jessie says calmly “please”
the blonde nods and makes her way towards the front door slowly enough that if jessie wanted to stop her, she could. her national captain simply just stands here with her arms loosely crossed. janine grabs her keys and turns “call me if you need anything, okay?”
jessie curtly nods “yep”
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luimagines · 18 days ago
Text
Wind Calls You Mom
Another commission!
They asked for Wind calling Reader mom and then gets embarrassed about it.
Masterlist
Content under the cut!
When you first started traveling with the boys, you thought you were about to jump off a cliff.
Don’t get it mixed up. You adore each and every one of them, but you were sure that their antics were going to make you go gray before thirty.
You had known that teenage boys were a pain even on the best of days. But you didn’t realize how quickly you would have been singled out as it was. And because they were all nasty, testosterone filled menaces, your poor nose was about to keel over and call it quits.
So! Much to your behest, you took it upon yourself (by gently bullying them) to be the one to actually keep them on top of their cleanliness and their hygiene because you refused to baby these nearly fully grown men. Honestly, you could have started crying by the stench alone if you had the misfortune of being down wind of them.
“Take a shower.” You held a hand up, shutting the poor boy down before he could say anything else.
“Oh come on!” Wind whines, dramatically pouting and throwing his hands by his sides. “It’s not even that bad-!”
“Because you’re the one living in it.” You press, keeping your hand up between you both. “Either go jump in the river or change your clothes- for goodness sake-!”
Wind turns to one of the other guys for support but they all collectively shrug. This isn't a battle they’re willing to fight. You’ve been quite adamant about it over the weeks you’ve traveled with them. Time in particular isn’t going to fight you on this and you know it.
Teenage boys smell the worst.
“Next town we go to I’m getting all of you some sort of odor neutralizer.” You grumble and turn back to cleaning your weapon. “It’s a miracle I haven’t dropped dead.”
Wind groans even louder. 
Hyrule snickers in the background. You turn and point a finger to him, fighting to keep a straight face as you speak again. “Don’t you start! You’re one of the worst offenders!”
“Who am I offending?” Hyrule puts a melodramatic hand to his chest.
“My nose!”
“Tough.”
You stand, ready to fight the boy before Wind flops over, dragging you back down to your spot. He doesn’t actually smell that bad. If you think onions aren’t that smelly to begin with, that is. You don’t even know why he smells like onions. You didn’t even eat onions today!
“Wind! Get off! You smell!” You groan and try to push him off. He chooses violence and latches on instead. 
“I don’t want to now.” He pouts. “You’re being mean.”
“I am not!” You try to push him off again with more force. “Wind!”
“Wind.” Warrior comes to your rescue. “Come on. We have to do laundry anyway. We can clean your clothes and it’ll solve the issue.”
Wind rolls over, covering himself with dirt as he hits the ground. “You’re no fun.”
Warrior chuckles. “And you smell.”
“HA!”
“Warrior, you traitor.” Wind grumbles and gets up. His whole back is filthy and it makes you laugh.
“Hold on, Sailor.” You take a rag and brush him off. You turn him around and wipe the rouge dirt on his cheeks as well while you’re at it. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re not sick after all of this.”
Wind sticks his tongue out. “Whatever mom.”
You roll your eyes and put the rag away. When you look back at Wind, you see that his cheeks have gone pink and that his ears are pinned down. He suddenly refuses to meet your eyes. The change startles you. What happened? You bend a bit to look him in the eye. “Wind?”
“I’m going!” He turns on his heels away from you and dashes off to where you know Wild and Legend were doing the laundry.
You tilt your head in question. Strange. What came over him? You turn to Warrior with an eyebrow raised to sell your unvoiced question.
Warrior snickers and covers his mouth with his hand.
Well that doesn’t answer your silent question at all! What are you missing?! You level Warrior with an incredulous look. “What? What’s so funny, Mr. Chuckles?”
Warrior meets your gaze easily with a charming smile. The laughter in his eyes is borderline obnoxious. “Really? Did you miss what he said?”
“Wind?” You say for mere clarification. “I happened to be a bit preoccupied at the time if you missed it. Poor kid covered himself with nothing but dirt and didn’t even care. I’d hate for his clothes to stain.”
Warrior snickers even more but doesn’t comment on your words. “He called you mom.”
You pause. 
He did, didn’t he? Huh… You heard for sure, but it just seemed like the typical teenage response for someone who was being a bit bratty. You can recall the amount of times you’ve done that yourself on a friend or over doting well meaning acquaintance. Heck, even sometimes to your own mother. But that was usually less funny than if you did it with other people.
You had thought that Wind was being sarcastic and didn’t want to bother with acknowledging it. Some battles just aren’t worth it. And you knew it would have been well deserved anyway.
However his reaction wasn't what you thought it would be. He looked embarrassed and awkward. He hadn’t meant to call you that at all.
You know that your silence doesn’t read well while you’re thinking but if Warrior hadn’t pointed it out, you fear how long it would have taken you to figure it out.
You cough, feeling your own cheeks go a bit pink as the realization washes over you. “I see.”
“Do you?” Warrior smirks and crosses his arms. “No shame in it if I need to further spell it out for you.”
“You have something in your teeth.” You say instead.
Warrior perks up and instantly goes looking for the mirror shield.
You try to keep from laughing, wondering how or if you should bother bringing up Wind’s little slip of the tongue. He called you mom- he’s probably mortified. 
You rub your knuckles against your forehead. Ok. This can’t stand. You’ll talk to him. Maybe not immediately but you don’t want Wind to shrink into himself and lose his confidence.
You wait until after dinner.
Instead of waiting for the right moment to make your move, you decide to simply sit yourself next to Wind once the boys had gone around amusing themselves by the fire. The resident pirate was moments from joining in but your presence seems to have embarrassed him once more.
So he’s also still thinking of his little slip up.
You tilt your head, trying to appear nonchalant. “...Everything good, Wind? Did you like dinner?”
He nods. 
You wait for him  to say something but he struggles to meet your eyes even now. His cheeks go pink again and you’re forced to think of a solution on the fly. You told yourself you were trying to avoid this! This is not avoiding it!
“Wind-”
“I’m sorry.” He says instead, rubbing the back of his neck. The poor boy finally turns his head to you. “I didn’t mean to call you that. It just came out.”
You sigh. Ok. He beat you to it. This is fine.
You sling your arm around his shoulders and ruffle his hair for the heck of it, trying to keep the energy casual. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t even notice.”
Wind turns toward you with wide, almost hopeful eyes. “Really?”
You nod. “Granted, I heard it, but I thought you were being sarcastic at first. I didn’t see a problem with it until Warrior decided to make it a problem.”
“Warrior?” Wind tilts his head, looking over to where the Captain was losing a card game to Four. It’s not even a close game. Four is wiping the floor with him. “What did he do?”
“In his words, he spelled it out for me.” You grumble. “He was laughing that it went over my head so easily.”
“...Oh.”
“...”
“...”
“I hope Four wins that game.”
“Warrior always loses anyway.”
You chuckle and ruffle his hair again. “You ok? Feel better?”
Wind laughs a little bit but nods.
You also feel a bit better, but there’s one thing that you want to ask now that you’ve thought about it. “I don’t smother you boys, do I? I’m not that bad, am I?”
“No, you are.” Wind answers honestly. “...But it’s nice.”
“You think so?” You say, ignoring the mild sting of his blunt honesty.
Wind nods again. “I think… that having someone to keep us clean and someone to make sure we’re all taken care of is helping us a lot…” You watch him think for a moment longer. Wind bites his cheek. “It… actually would’ve been nice to have someone give me snacks when I was on my adventure.”
You smile. “Happy to help.”
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h0rnyauth0r · 2 years ago
Text
ghost never noticed just how much you squirm when he talks until now :)
i apologize for my break but i needed it and i should be back for now! (also this was a requested work!)
word count: 3.3k
tws: blindfolding, voice kink, unprotected sex, reader with a vagina, pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, cumming inside
ghost would like to say that he’s an observant person. he kind of has to be with his career, but when it comes to you he feels like it’s impossible to understand anything. you seem so shy around him and he doesn’t know if it’s because he did something wrong or if you’re just shy.
he’s interested in you, to say the least. you’ve been a member in the force for several months now, only speaking to him on occasions where it’s absolutely necessary. it’s certainly different from soap, who doesn’t shut the hell up.
something is definitely off though. it’s the way that you react to him sometimes. most of the time there’s only professionalism, a firm stature that screams confidence and seriousness, but other times…
he just notices the way your body shudders when he’s speaking to you. is it fear? some sort of arousal? he can’t be certain at this point in time, but he has added this observation onto his list of things he wants to learn about you.
tonight you’ll be doing training with soap, and he’s decided that he’d like to join even if it means he’s just standing there doing nothing. he wants to test your reactions to try to understand you better.
you, on the other hand, have no idea about that. you’ve been more focused on trying to get your punches down after dislocating your thumb during a mission a few weeks ago. you almost died because you didn’t punch right, so soap offered to help teach you how to throw them without injuring yourself too bad.
as you’re on your way to the training room, you can overhear soap talking with someone. it intrigues you, how whispered and rushed his words are. so you decide to stop walking to avoid confusing him as you listen in.
“are you sure about joining us? you know, she’s quite shy around you. she might not be able to learn a lot if the man who makes her stutter is around!” his voice sounds frustrated, and you feel your whole body become flushed once you process his words.
so, ghost wants to join in on the training session? that doesn’t make sense, and the worst part of it is that soap somehow noticed that you have a crush on the older man. you avoided him so much, but you figure that’s probably what made it more obvious.
you suck it up and push forward, walking down the hallway and approaching the room. most of the usual training dummies have been put away, mats placed on the floor with only one of the larger dummies placed to the left of the mats.
soap is standing in there by the dummy, ghost standing a few feet away from him with his arms crossed. you won’t back down and shy away today, you’ve decided. you’re truly hoping he doesn’t say a single word though.
soap notices you as soon as you shut the doors, waving you over with a grin on his face. “i decided that you can use the dummy and we can practice using myself as well, i just want to test out the dummy first so we can get your formation down.”
you nod, looking over to ghost to see him staring at you already. “hi, lieutenant.” you say to him, turning back to soap and getting prepared for the training session.
“hello.”
after a little while, you’ve gotten the basics down better than before. your issue was mainly not throwing punches properly, which led to your thumb being in the line of your shots too. soap helps you adjust accordingly, finally landing punches that only affect your knuckles rather than your thumbs.
soap announces that he has to use the restroom and excuses himself, leaving you alone with ghost. you decide to not say anything, opting to focus on punching the dummy in front of you rather than focus on him.
“you’re doing good.” his voice comes from right next to you, startling you and causing you to jump slightly as you look over at him. 
“thank you.” you say, looking down at your now seemingly bruised knuckles and rubbing them gently with your other hand. they hurt pretty bad, but you know that soap will probably ask you to keep going for a little while longer so you’re more prepared.
you notice his shadow loom over you as he gets closer, a hand reaching out and grasping onto your bruised one. “you know, this will get a lot less intense over time. the more you train, the less it’ll hurt.” his voice is right in your ear, causing your eyes to shut as you try your best to not make anything obvious.
everything about his voice just gets you going. from his accent, to how it sounds when he’s calm versus yelling. no matter what he does, his voice makes you melt and turns your panties into a sopping mess within just seconds.
his hand drops yours, causing you to open your eyes as you look at him. he’s looking at you intensely, eyes filled with emotion you can’t read. your whole face feels hot, though, and you’re almost ashamed to even look at him.
he knows what he does to you, and he’s going to be doing it on purpose now.
you opt to ignore him, waiting impatiently until soap finally comes back into the room with a fresh bottle of water and a sheepish smile on his face. he senses the tension in the room, but doesn’t mention it at all since he knows it’d be awkward.
the three of you remain in the room for some time longer, before eventually an hour has passed and it’s time to leave and focus on other things. there’s an upcoming mission you’ll be going on, so you decide to spend some time with gaz to figure out the details.
your walk in the dark is mildly terrifying. the light heading towards the building where gaz stays is limited, several areas of shadows that cause your vision to be impaired. you don't feel right, an anxiety developing that normally isn't present.
several vehicles leave gaps in between certain spots, a feeling of someone following you causing you to stop in your tracks and take a look around. 
nothing.
you sigh in relief. it must be some sort of paranoia from how tired you are after training. you did break quite a sweat, which was made worse with ghost’s gleaming eyes on you for the majority of the time you had been in the room.
you decide to continue forward-
but something stops you, from the shadows. a small reflection of someone’s eyes, a large figure looming in between two large trucks. your heart begins to pound harshly, quickly trying to make a break towards the building so you can find some sort of defense against the figure.
but you’re stopped, large hand grabbing and pulling you back into the shadows. you let out a scream, adrenaline pumping as you kick and punch as hard as you can muster. a low grunt is all you hear, an ease in the way the figure carries you away.
something is put over your eyes, a blindfold perhaps? you’re shaking now, being led to who knows where in the darkness and you can’t even be sure if anyone will ever find you. you’re certain that death looms closely now, deciding to just give up because no amount of force is stopping this human wall from taking you.
you want to cry but stay strong, keeping a cold and stoic appearance (you think at least) as you’re finally let go of in what you think is a small building nearby. wouldn’t this person have locked you in a car or something? why here? you’re confused now, not understanding what’s going on.
“you don’t need to kick so hard.”
you feel embarrassed as the voice speaks. of course it’s him. but why you’re blindfolded, you still don’t understand. ghost is probably trying to prepare you for something, maybe a training on how to escape a kidnapper.
he keeps your arms pressed tightly against your back, though. not a single ounce of movement on his end, just the heat of his body near yours in the dark.
“where are we?” you ask, trying to move your arm with no luck present in him leaving you be. 
“nowhere that matters right now.”
you feel kind of nervous. this man has saved you many times before working together. you can’t help but feel in your gut that he may somehow be plotting your murder or disappearance with the way he’s acting.
not having any sights of what’s going on has led to the smallest of noises feeling so much louder, so you’re flustered when you can hear and feel his breath right at your ears.
“an annoying bird has told me that you’re interested in me. and my observations seem to have proven him right.” he whispers lowly, hotness of his breath brushing against your skin slightly.
you’d be lying if you said you weren’t turned on now. his voice makes you unbelievably wet, and you don’t understand how you’re not dreaming right now.
the heat that has developed between your thighs is almost burning, a desire bubbling up in your abdomen that has you almost shaking. “hmm, see? you’re not too great at hiding that, love.”
you clench your jaw, sucking in a deep breath. you have goosebumps along your whole body, the cool air around you making the feelings of his warmth so much more intense.
“now, i’m going to let your arms go. but if you even move a muscle i will leave you here alone and we won’t speak again. got it?” you nod hastily at his words, feeling his arms finally release the tight grip on you that makes your shoulders and arms crack lightly.
he shuffles around the room, and you can hear as he leans down and abruptly has your pants tugged down slightly. the cool air hits your panties, making you shiver. one of his hands grasps onto your thighs tightly, squeezing and slowly working its way up.
you realize he’s down on his knees in front of you when he easily slides your panties down too, now at your ankles with your pants. you’re absolutely dripping, feeling wetness leak down your thighs to where his hands are.
that’s when he lets out a soft, amused laugh. “so wet already and i haven’t even touched you? you’re desperate.” he says, a single finger pushing between your folds and gathering up wetness.
you can hear the way his fingers move, entering his mouth with a soft squelch. the way your face heats up when you realize he’s unmasked sends you reeling for more, wanting him to do anything to you now.
“you’re in luck, as i’m desperate as well.” he whispers, making you bite down on your bottom lip tightly. the heat of his words is close to your pussy now, a light blow of his breath against your clit.
you’re trying hard not to move, staying so completely still despite the shake in your bones. “please…” you whisper, wanting him to touch you or just something.
when his tongue laps right up your folds, you inhale sharply, eyes clenched shut despite the blindfold on your body. a small and quiet moan breaks through your lips when he pushes a finger in, curling it into you as he blows air onto your clit.
“please what? you want me to make you cum?” he asks, and you nod desperately as his finger stays still.
he smacks your clit with his other hand, making you cry out and tears sting at the corners of your eyes. you feel disgusting for finding that so pleasurable. “use. your. words.” his voice is quiet, and you inhale sharply.
“yes. please make me cum.” you mumble out quickly, words rushed and almost slurred. he hums in approval at that, finger moving in and out again and sending your mind straight to the gutter.
light squelching sounds turn louder once he adds two more fingers, stretching you out as his lips latch onto your clit. you’re almost in disbelief from how good it feels, eyes rolling back and legs shaking. you almost feel like you could fall over, but one of his hands remains on your hip to reassure you that you won’t.
your orgasm builds steadily, arms remaining tucked at your sides out of fear that his words were true. you can’t just let this end now, now when he’s eating you out like his life depends on it. he’s so skilled at what he’s doing that you can barely contain your composure.
you know you’re going to cum soon after he starts getting rougher, wetness becoming more and more until it’s almost so loud you can’t hear anything else. when his mouth leaves you and he starts talking again, that’s what sends you over the edge.
“such a pretty pussy. you’re so good for me, you know that?” he says quietly, thumb swiping at your clit and making your spine tingle.
“i can feel how close you are. go on. cum for me.” the raspiness in his tone has you moaning out, orgasm crashing through you as your walls clench around his fingers. you can’t think straight, mind becoming absolutely fried as he continues finger fucking you through your high.
your hips are shaking as his fingers slide out, a small dripping noise of your arousal hitting the floor below you. you hear him stand up, arms gripping your waist as he pushes your body into his.
his nose brushes up against your own, and you force the gap closed with urgency. you can’t keep away from him anymore, not now. his lips move against yours roughly, tongue forcing itself into your mouth.
you push your hips against his, feeling the rough fabric of his jeans and, more importantly, the feeling of his hard cock against you. you can even feel how big he is, and you know it’ll make you sore later. just the thought of that has you soaked again, lips leaving his for a moment for air as your heart rate picks up.
“i’m not done yet.” he whispers in your ear, pushing his lips onto yours again.
and just when you thought he couldn’t get any hotter.
as you kiss, he leads you to the wall. it’s cold, pressing into your ass hard as he leans further into you. his hips grind into your naked bottom half, the mild overstimulation making you mewl against his lips.
you’re basically heaving, barely able to breathe when his lips leave yours. “you ready?” he asks, and you mumble out ‘yes’ as he fumbles with his belt and eventually tugs his pants and boxers down.
you can’t see his cock, but you imagine it’d be nice and pretty. you can hear him stroke it a few times before it’s pressed against your folds, sliding up and down and making you bite your lip in anticipation. the tip feels big against you, just the right amount of stimulation to make you want him to fuck your brains out.
the tip presses into you, making your hips twitch from shock as your nails dig into your palms. as he slides in, your mouth falls open and you moan shakily. “fuck, you’re tighter than i thought you’d be. such a nice cunt.” he says, hips bumping into yours as he bottoms out.
tears stream down your face from the feeling of fullness, so overwhelming but you already can’t get enough of him. the tip just barely grazes your cervix, and when he slowly begins thrusting it slaps against it over and over again. it’s painful, but you love that.
he decides to lift you up by the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around him and the new angle feeling more pleasurable as he fucks you into the wall harshly. his hands are squeezing your ass, lips finding their way to your neck as he bites down on your skin roughly. 
he moves at a steady pace, cock hitting all the right places that send you closer and closer to your peak. his movements are hard, dick ramming into you in a manner that makes you finally move your hands and grip onto his hair.
“fuck.” he mutters, hips picking up speed as he kisses you again. small noises leave his mouth, muffled by your lips but still so hot to hear coming from him. he sounds so good to you, his grunts and groans causing your pussy to clench against him. 
he fucks into you harder and harder, the stimulation of his groin smacking into your clit making you feel as if you’re melting. the way your eyes have rolled back again, clit throbbing from the stimulation, you know you’ll probably cum soon.
“touch yourself for me.” he says, a small break between your kisses. you comply instantaneously, fingers reaching down and circling your clit and smacking harder against yourself from his thrusts hitting your hands.
his lips separate from yours, leaning towards your ear and biting down on your earlobe. the stimulation of that causes your fingers to start moving faster.
the feeling of your fingers is what sends you reeling, a loud moan escaping as you finally cum for a second time. “fuck, just like that. cum like the desperate slut you are.” he mumbles in your ear, making you cry out again.
his hips don’t falter for even a second as you hear him inhale sharply, small grunts leaning his mouth as his hands slap into the wall behind you. “gonna cum in you. i think you can take it.” he mutters, words making you feel like you could explode right now.
“please.” your voice cracks.
he finally cums afterwards, ropes of it warming your insides as his hips stutter into you. he rides out his high with a few more thrusts, gentle noises finally being let out again as he slowly comes to a stop.
he pulls out after a few moments, cum leaking out of you and streaming down your thighs. you stand still for a moment, not sure of what to do now.
"you can take the blindfold off now." he says, and you decide to do so.
you still can't see great once it's off, the room very dark with minimal lighting coming from the occasional light outside shining into the windows. but you glance over to ghost anyways, noticing that he still kept his mask off in front of you. while you can't see too well, you smile anyways in adoration.
"as handsome as soap always claims." you say to him, hearing him sigh out as he shakes his head. his hand smacks your ass and he pulls his pants back up, a grin forming on your face as you gather your clothes back onto yourself as well. your thighs and cunt are sore, but you feel almost floaty despite the pain.
"of course you'd think that." he mutters, noticing the way you're off balance as you pull your pants up and over your thighs. one of his arms reaches out for you to help balance you and you thank him quietly before standing upright and looking him up and down.
"so, an annoying bird?" you ask.
"quite annoying. certainly not wrong though."
as you go your separate ways that night, you can't contain your excitement. gaz can immediately tell what took you so long when he sees your messed up hair and crooked smile, but he doesn't bother to say anything. you've talked about ghost for months, he's just glad you finally got it over with.
-
taglist: @kovieky
(my taglist is open! send ask/dm if interested!)
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risuola · 8 months ago
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▶ MOM ISSUES — late night talks, cuddles and lots of theatrics. that's what living with your boys mean, but your mom seems to see it a little differently.
contents: college+roommates!au, sa/domestic violence mentioned (it has nothing to do with the story, but it's a warning nonetheless) — wc. 800
a/n: there it is! i've been thinking about this story for months, drafting dozens of scenarios and finally it's happening! this series will be made of short pieces about three best friends turned roommates that slowly realize there's more to it than just friendship. it's not gonna be chronological, more so a series of random moments from their adventure - in the masterlist i'll try and organize it in an order, more or less. also, as you read it, can you hear Suguru's nagging voice when he calls Satoru's name or is it just me?
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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First thing you learned at the beginning of your university journey is that no amount of sleepovers and cuddles could ever justify sharing an apartment with two grown ass men. To your mom, at least, because once you told her that you and your two best friends – Satoru and Suguru – are going to live together, there’s not a single phone call that goes without her assuming you’re being regularly subjected to domestic violence and sexual harassment. They are men, she always tells you and it’s been long since you’ve given up any attempts to tell her otherwise. They were futile after all and what surprised you the most was that your boys are no strangers to her.
With a low grunt you made your way above Satoru’s ass and dropped onto the mattress in the middle. Both men shot you a short glance before resuming their things – the white haired one was playing a game on his phone and the brunette was reading a book.
“How’s mom?” Gojo broke the silence, cutting the thick tension around you with his voice. “Still convinced we’re fucking you dumb every night?”
“Satoru–“ Geto was quick to nag his friend and his manners (lack of them, actually), and the other one didn’t skip a beat before defensively asking “what?”
“No, it’s fine,” you sighed, covering your face with your hands, hoping to squeeze out some stress out of your head that way. “I can’t believe it. She knows you two for over a decade and it’s only now that she’s absolutely convinced I’m being abused even though she knows I’m safe with you.”
“She used to feed us cookies and now what?” Satoru gasped, his theatrics reaching a critical point as he dropped his phone onto the pillow and fake-sniffled dramatically, clutching the fabric of his white shirt over his chest.
“Do you want me to give her a call?” Suguru offered, now focused more on you than on his book. He reached to you, pulling your hands away from your face and brushing some stray hairs away from your forehead. There’s a delicacy to his movements, a subtleness that the other one of your friends lacks and you’re yet again made aware of it, when Gojo throws his arm over your middle, pulling you towards his body as if you weighted nothing.
“No, Sugu, it’s pointless,” you replied, exhaling deeply and patting the strong grip away before it got a chance to suffocate you. The very aggressive cuddle only got more intense and for a brief moment you thought Satoru wanted to squeeze you out like a toothpaste. “Besides, we all know that whenever she talks to any of you, she’s as sweet as honey. It’s only me who has to listen to her weird assumptions.”
Gojo scoffed and giggled at the same time, a huff of air brushed against your cheek as he nuzzled his nose right next to your temple, threatening to bite your cheek. “Told you she’s gonna get addicted to criminal podcasts when you were introducing her to Spotify and you didn’t listen to me,” he said in a light tone and the few seconds of silence that followed made your heart skip few beats. Any sudden loss of words is always a bad sign when it comes to the blue-eyed princess. “Does your mom know about our sleeping situation?”
“Oh god, no,” you whined, pushing his face away before his teeth sunk into the flesh of your cheek that he always insists, reminds him of mochi. Sugar addict.
“Should I accidentally send her a selfie with our bed in the background? On the group chat?”
“Satoru.” Suguru grunted, nagging again and visibly reconsidering all the life choices that led him to being friends with Gojo. You knew that look, you saw it many times over years of friendship with them.
“You can do that, Toru,” you replied, your tone dead serious. “But if you dare, I will change my number into yours in her phone and you’ll be the recipient of the shitshow it will cause. And you know the hell will break loose.”
“Throughout heaven and hell, you alone will be the fucked up one,” Geto mused, pressing the dark red, hand-painted bookmark that you gifted him a year prior, between the pages of his book, ultimately deciding that it’s enough of reading for today.
“Point taken, no pictures then,” Satoru hummed and nodded once, ignoring the obnoxious insult and he let go of you, suddenly not overly dramatic anymore. He got back into indulging his phone-gaming addiction.
You let out a small sound of resignation and helplessness and crawled underneath the sheets. Suguru soon joined you on the pillows and as you quietly chatted the time away, Gojo fell asleep, nuzzled between your shoulder blades.
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4pfsukuna · 2 months ago
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No ordinary love
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Debrief: Terry promises to come back in one piece and something about those pretty eyes has you believing everything he says.
Warning: fluff, angst, no weapon formed against me shall prosper but against this mans eyes? We never stood a chance.
Terry has always and i mean ALWAYS been persistant. If he had a goal he didnt care about obstacles; that didnt matter. He could sometimes be so one track minded and while you loved that about him its one of the reasons you and him couldn’t date.
“Still look as good as i remember” You hear and your keys fall from your hands with a loud clatter against the freshly painted porch. After a long day at the hospital being the head nurse may pay well but they make you work for your paycheck. And after your 9 ½ hour shift that was only suppose to be 3 just to help cover everyone’s lunch you were so over it.
“What you doing back in town?” You ask reaching down for your keys but he beats you to it taking the heavy grocery bags from your hands relieving your arms for a moment. He could be here today and gone tonight that’s how it was with him and your attachment issues just didn’t allow that, you needed a constant. Fuck the military and mcmap but you also couldn’t ask him to choose you or a career, so you chose for him.
“Damn no ‘welcome back, i missed you, good to see you it’s been so long’?” he jokes trying to look you in your eyes but you avoid eye contact at all cost. You would fold the minute you looked into those electric blue eyes and when he smiled at you instantly you were weak in the knees fuck standing up.
“Its been so long i guess i should enjoy this time i have before you up and leave” you snap before finally looking up at him and it’s his turn to look away. “If im lucky you’ll say something before you leave this time, hmm?”
And yeah he was fucked up for leaving with no good bye but this man was so unbelievably down bad for you that had you made the slightest indication of wanting him to stay he would’ve. You heald his heart in your hand with no regard or maybe you just didn’t know but to hold that much power over someone was insane.
You can’t lie thee Terry Richmond was a fine fine FINE man. God took his time with him if he took 7 days to create earth he took 8 to make Terry and watching him do all the manly things around your home never got old as he hummed along to you playing Sade.
“See something you like?” He ask looking over his shoulder at you as you take a sip of the moonshine from your cup pulling his attention.
“I love a good handyman… might have to get me one im trynna see what that be like” you throw shade sitting on the couch not expecting him to make his way over to you holding your chin in his palm as he directs your head up to him.
“You can get the idea of another man out your head, i got some loose ends im trying to take care of but it’s always gon be you mama… always has been.” He promises and its the one that he doesnt let anything get in his way but you didnt want him to break this. You look away before he squats down pulling your face to his again lips close enough to yours all he had to do was breath heavier and yall would be kissing.  
“So you finallygon’ let me take you out on a proper date?” He ask his lips brushing yours and you almost can’t even comprehend what he’s asking you feeling the heat buzzing so much between you two as it always did.
Your tongue grazes your bottom lip and he instantly follows it with his eyes before his thumb follows the trail. 
You and i, baby… This is no ordinary love you hear sades voice through the speaker and make the mistake of looking up into his eyes yeah he had you on lock and no key to be found as much as you wanted to stand up you couldn’t.
“Ill think about it” you murmur your lips brushing his before pulling away drinking the rest of your moon shine his eyes watching you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He needed to take care of those loose ends ASAP.
And when the morning comes he’s gone… as you expected. You didn’t expect a bouqet of roses and sunflowers on your living room table. You can’t help the smile, you want to be so mad at him but damn this wasn’t no grocery store bouqet this was some professional shit. 
Its another 4 days before you hear from Terry again, and in them 4 days you smiled on your way to work seeing the flowers although they would make you sad looking at them before bed. Just a reminder that all you had was an empty promise and empty bed never coming home to a man and really the only one that you knew was for you. Dating was pointless because none of them was him you didn’t even bother anymore yet he was probably out slanging dick left and right so before those thoughts can take over you submerge yourself deeper in the tub enjoying the lavender bubbles and cinnamon scent of the candles you lit.
Fuck, terry smelled like cinnamon.
“Oh so you do remember my number” You speak into the phone, sitting up a bit, voice raspy.
“I deserved that, how was work mama?” He ask and you instantly hear the frustration in his voice. He sounded tired, frustrated and like he wasn’t in the mood for shit yet he was calling you.
“You sound like your day was longer than mine” you admitted running your fingers through the bubbles and he chuckles.
“Yeah… just needed to hear your voice and I can get through anything. You like the flowers?” He ask and it sounds like he’s taping something a nervous tick you know he has. You don’t even let your mind wander into that territory just hoping it has nothing to do with his cousin mike who was always finding himself at the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Yeah a lot… you being safe out there? Wherever you are?” You ask and he laughs this time.
“Yes baby, gotta make it back to you in one piece” and he never said that before, never even called you. He must be in something deep.
“You in trouble with the law?” You tease earning another laugh and the sound of taping gets louder. Leave it to him.
“And im not your baby, either” you add and that makes him laugh… a real one you can’t hide the smile on your face just glad he can’t see it.
“That’s why you smiling ain’t you?” He ask earning an eye roll as you sink back further into the bath. Its silent for a second, a comfortable one and you close your eyes.
“Just…” you trail off not knowing what kind of trouble he was in. “One piece” you reiterate.
“One piece” he promises easing your mind  before catching you off guard. “You miss me?”
And you hang up the phone.
The next time you see Terry again is when you’re up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. You’ve tried a bath, a shower, journaling, reading the Bible and even eating. Ok and maybe catfish, baked mac n cheese and cabbage wasn't exactly a late night snack  but it gives you a view of something rustling through the bushes outside and you're quick to grab the knife from the top of the fridge.
You don’t expect it to be a bloody Terry with two bullet holes one in his shoulder and one in his back not close to his spine but as a nurse youve seen enough  life changing accidents and you never wanted it to be terry so as you sit on the couch behind you cleaning his wounds you silently pray over him, for him to any God that will listen that this man lives and comes out on top.
“Baby?” He asks softly and absent mindedly you answer not even realizing he called you that; just that he called you. You were stuck in your own thoughts. you stay quiet for a moment until he looks over his shoulder seeing the emotions swirling in your eyes. Anger, sadness, worry maybe even regret.
“Baby girl i'd rather you just yell at me and tell me you hate me than silent treatment” he grinds his teeth turning back forward so you can finish. It feels nice being touched in a tender way he can’t remember the last time somebody did it's just been fighting for the past few days…weeks… months.
Years.
You don’t say anything at first you look for words to say until you think of the only thing you know that will get through his head.
“You promised… you promised me one piece” you feel your eyes start to water and hes quick to turn around quick to face you when he hears the tremble in your resolve.
“I am in one piece…” he tries watching the way your eyes start to water with tears and you stand up tossing the needle and thread onto the coffee table next to his empty plate.
“Are you fucking serious? This aint one piece! This is not a life” you finally yell at him before a tear falls yanking your hand from his grasp. “You and this disappearing act fucking sucks! I never know when you’re leaving or coming back if it’s for days or weeks and when you do come back you leave all these promises of being with me and settling down! When? When the next bullet goes through your spine and you’re paralyzed?” You snap harshly at him through tears you don’t even give him a second to talk or breathe.
“You never break a promise because you pussyfoot around what actually happened. Its like telling a lie— not telling the whole truth is still a lie. I don’t want no more of your promises or half truths.” And he opens his mouth to speak but you arent done yet now that he got you started he was going to listen to everything you had to say.
“ You don’t think I’m worth more than that? I deserve flowers…all the time. And dates not promises of one. I deserve a person i know i can rely on, someone i can come home to because THEY are home not the house. I deserve love and alot of it…all the love i give without expecting anything in return and you know what? Nah. I need that in return. And you can’t provide that so i gotta let you go cause it’s hurting me more to hold on” you cry but articulate so perfectly hes silent. It’s nothing he could say you read him like a book, tore his heart out like some flimsy pages and closed it shut like you closed your heart off to him.
Everything was falling apart, he didn’t think his day could get worse.  You had walked away and shut your light off making sure he heard you lock your door. Oh you were done done.
Leaning forward he drops his head in his hands you were the only thing keeping him at ease, the only thing keeping him going and without that he was fully ready to crash out. Ready to kill everybody in that crooked ass police station. Fuck peace, nah now he wanted problems. 
Terry was a man that didnt let nothing stand in the way of what he wanted. You are what he wants and right now he was prepared to burn the whole state down if it meant getting you back in his arms, but this time officialy.
Yeah they fucked with the wrong one this time. 
Cleaning up everything, the first aid kit, dishes and alcohol he had to clean up his act to he throws on a fresh shirt looking at the flowers you still had on the table even though they were starting to wilt.
You wrap yourself up in the blankets angry at how stupid this whole stupid situation was. It was starting to feel like that episode of spongebob where he keeps asking squidward “are you finished those errands yet” like an ass there are no errands squidward just didnt want to work and why were you so heartbroken over a man who didnt want to put in the work for you.
“Bitch and they were roommates” your coworker gossips over lunch just some leftovers you had thrown together though before you can ask any follow up questions theres flashing police lights, sirens and yelling making the two of you stand up and rush into the hall. Gossip hour would have to wait.
A familiar blonde girl gets pushed past you on a stretcher covered in glass and blood even blue lips. You know her, an unfortunate upbringing but she cleaned up even got a job at the court house and was in school for law.
“Summer?” You ask walking with the stretcher listening as everybody yells commands to another.
“You must be the girl… t-the girl he’s in love with” she smiles clearly dazed out of her mind. “He did 100 miles an hour with no tires” she whispers before passing back out.
Nothing she was saying was making sense and not that you gathered much but what you did gather is that there’s someone else in a car with her. Someone else that needs help so running back to the main entrance all you see is several shelby springs cop cars and damage to the front doors.
“One day somebody is going to take down those fucking crooked cops” you shake your head thinking maybe summer was to dazed and just saying anything.
“Baby girl” you hear behind you turning to see Terry who looks like he’s also covered in glass, this time a bullet proof vest a bouqet of roses and sunflowers in one hand and a vhs tape player in the other.
“Terry wh—“ he stops you pushing the flowers in your hand pulling your face to his and finally kissing you. His lips are warm and he kisses you hungrily holding you as if youre going to run when he lets go.
“Hey man” a security officer speaks up unaware of the situation, stepping too close for either of your liking.
“Shut the fuck up” he fucking barks before pulling you back to his lips licking into your mouth not caring about professionalism, or restraint just you… it’s always been you. Leaning back into the kiss giving him the same amount of passion and intensity he’s pouring into it you feel him relax with a slight groan.
Pulling back from him needing to breathe he chases your lips making you giggle.
“Stop denying me” he gruffs out only for you to swat at his hands pulling at his shirt to see if he's hurt anywhere but he shakes his head.
“One piece baby, i promised” and that was enough for you. No new bullets, cuts scratches anything. He heard you, heard your rant and didn’t say anything words wasn’t enough he had to show you.
“I also promised you a date… hows tomorrow night?” He ask before shaking his head pulling 3 crumpled hundred dollar bills out his pocket and tucking it into the front of your scrubs.
“Nah call out tomorrow, im picking you up at 6” he tells you with a smile this time shocked you pull him down for a kiss.
“Yeah… i did miss you”
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