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#I hope you feel guilty and choke at your guilt
mrslittletall · 1 year
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This morning, a side blog of mine got shadowbanned. It isn't even the first time it happened. It is my kink blog and it got shadow banned around the end of last year/start of the new year and when I tried to appeal for it, it got deleted for apparently having art of "underage characters in sexual depictions". Which was... not a thing on this blog. Yes, it is a kink blog, but I am pretty sure that a majority of the characters I reblogged are adults, the ones who were depicted in sexual positions were definitely adults and there were a few where I didn't know the age, but they clearly looked like adults. And I don't draw for this kink myself, so it couldn't have been my art. I only write and my writing is a) a link to AO3 b) tumblr allows to post erotica (which I didn't even do, it was a LINK. Thing is, my kink blog is one of the most harmless in the community and it is tagged and names are censored and I make sure that only people of the community should find it and not someone random who didn't want to see it. You have to know, other blogs of our kink have blatant IRL gifs of kink behaviour and sex and sometimes you can see downright genitals. IRL genitals! The only genitals I had on my blog were reblogged fanart and they were all tagged with nsfw so that people had something to block. And because this happened again, I am pretty sure that someone tries to damage me and reports my blog and that someone must be from within the community. I have no clue who it is and if I find them, I will block, it is just... When I saw the block shadowbanned, I was like "Man, that sucks" and moved on with my life. But over the day, I got really upset about it. And that was when it dawned on me... All the stuff that happened lately... I was barely hanging on a thread. My husband still in hospital -> Fine My cat got sick -> Fine My car is damaged -> Fine My stupid kink blog is shadow banned -> The end of the world. I was already having so much stuff to worry about, that this little thing, which was probably born from malice, made my mental health tank and I was close to tears for the rest of my morning and feeling like I want to go offline forever and live back in the 90ies because nobody cares about me and everyone hates me and they have fun taking the little things of joy of me that I still have. That thoughts spiralled into the thought that my husband could die during the transport to another hospital thanks to an accident, the thought that Geraldina would lie dead at home because her sickness was worse than I thought and finally the thought of me wanting to end it all because I couldn't live like this anymore. Yeah, the mental health was extremely in the dumps. I feel better now, I got over my intrusive thoughts. Geraldina is fine, my husband surely will not die during an accident and I won't take drastic measures. I just wonder... the people who do something like that, do they even think what the other person is going through? Maybe one day someone really does something they can't take back just because of something that should not be bad, but for them, it was the last drop into their barrel... Anyway, I wanted to say this here, where I have more followers and where I am not shadow banned, and excuse me, I will put this into the tag of my kink, because I want you guys to see my trouble.
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heartysworld · 2 months
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Love, Lando, Milo // LN4
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Lando Norris x Female Reader
Where Milo turns out to be more supportive than his dad
W. C: 2k
A/N: Milo has become a constant in my Lando fics, but since I don't see anyone complaining, I will keep on including him
MASTERLIST
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The night was still. The kind of stillness that should be soothing, but instead, it felt heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted again, trying to find a position that didn’t make your back scream in protest. It was nearly impossible. Every time you thought you had it, your bladder demanded attention or a new wave of nausea rolled through you.
You tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb Lando more than you already had. His breathing was steady and deep beside you, the sound normally a source of comfort. But tonight, it only highlighted how restless you were. You turned again, hoping to find that elusive comfortable spot, but it was no use.
Around 3 AM, you got up for what felt like the fifth time. You shuffled to the bathroom, your swollen feet aching with every step. After relieving yourself, you wandered into the kitchen, craving something to eat. Anything to soothe your grumbling stomach and kicking baby. You grabbed a banana and slowly made your way back to bed, hoping this time you wouldn’t disturb Lando.
But as you slipped back under the covers, Lando stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“Again?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with irritation.
“Yes, again,” you snapped back, unable to contain your frustration anymore. For the past few days, Lando's been complaining about your midnight adventures around the house as his sleep schedule struggled as much as you did if not even more. At first, you didn't say anything, apologizing and closing your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. However, as the days passed you felt like your were getting lonelier by the hour and evem more responsible for your fiancé's discontent with the situation in your own home, the sleepless night and constant tossing and turning.
“I’m pregnant, Lando. It’s not like I’m enjoying this.”
“Well, I’m not getting any sleep either,” he retorted. “I need to be in top shape during the season. This lack of sleep isn’t helping. No wonder I haven't been able to get anything done for the past week. It's useless.”
His words felt like a slap in the face. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. You felt overwhelmed, emotional, and incredibly vulnerable.
“You think I don’t know that?” You choked out. “You think I want to be up all night? I can’t help it! Im supposed to enjoy my pregnancy and relax as much as possible before our baby arrives! In reality, I'm feeling guilty and responsible for both mine and your inability to rest well! ”
Milo, sensing the tension and seeing your tears, started barking at Lando, tugging on the leg of his sweatpants as if to say, “You upset mom! Fix it!”
“Great, now I’ve upset the dog too,” Lando muttered, but his anger was already dissipating, replaced by guilt. He looked at you, seeing the tears streaming down your face, and his heart broke a little.
You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You grabbed a blanket and headed to the spare bedroom, which was soon to be the baby's room. You moved as quickly as possible, your belly preventing you from moving with your usual pace. The room was quiet, and the rocking chair near one of the windows looked inviting. You opened the window next to you to let some fresh air inside the room. You settled into the fluffy cushions on the chair, pulling the blanket around you. Seconds later, Milo trotted into the room after you. He lifted himself onto his back legs, his front paws supporting his weight against the upholstery of the chair.
You lifted the little man onto your lap, smiling as he snuggled against your belly as if he knew you needed comfort.
''There hasn't been a day during which I've regretted your arrival into our lives, my tiny love." You said as you caressed the soft fur between his floppy ears. Milo's cold nose occasionally bumped against the palm of your hand as he sniffed around.
The tears flowed freely down the cold surface of your face, silent and hot in contrast. You stroked Milo's fur, the rhythmic motion helping to calm you down. The rocking chair creaked softly as you rocked back and forth. The movement seemed to help soothe your loud inner voice that kept producing negative thoughts one after another.
Some time passed, and you weren't sure how long. The door creaked open, and you saw Lando standing there, his expression mixed with regret and sadness.
“Baby, ” he whispered, stepping into the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…I'm stressed. But that’s no excuse.”
You looked up at him, the tears still glistening in your eyes. “I’m trying, Lando. This isn’t easy for me either.”
He knelt beside the chair, taking your hand in his. “I know, love. I know. I’m an idiot. I should be more understanding. Please come back to bed. You need your sleep. We'll solve this in the morning, okay?”
You nodded, wiping your tears. “Just… don’t forget we’re in this together, okay?”
He leaned in and kissed you, soft and gentle, his lips lingering on yours. “I promise. Come back to bed? We can figure this out together.”
You stood up slowly, Milo jumping down to the floor. Lando wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you back to your bedroom. The bed felt warm and inviting, and as you settled back in, Lando pulled you close as much as your protruding belly allowed him.
Milo jumped onto the bed, curling up at your feet where he usually spent his nights. Lando kissed your forehead, his hand resting on your growing belly.
“Goodnight, baby. I love you” he whispered.
“Goodnight,love you too.” You replied, feeling his warmth and love surrounding you as sleepiness began to take over your tired body.
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The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You woke up feeling a bit more rested, your body still aching, but your heart felt a little lighter.
Lando was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching you with a soft smile. “Good morning,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“Morning,” you replied, smiling back. Milo stretched out beside you, having moved up on the bed during the night , now wagging his tail lazily.
“How are you feeling?” Lando asked, concern etched in his eyes.
“Tired, but better,” you admitted. “Thank you for coming to get me last night.”
“I’ll always come for you.” He said, his voice full of sincerity. “We’ll get through this together.”
You spent the morning in bed, talking and laughing, enjoying the calm before the chaos of the day. Milo provided endless entertainment, his antics making you both laugh.
That evening, after a long day of preparing the nursery and spending quality time together, you were exhausted. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the soft surface of the pillow. Lando stayed up a little longer as his mind kept wandering.
He looked over at you, your face serene in sleep, and his heart swelled with love. He gently placed his hand on your belly, feeling the slight movements of your growing baby.
“Hey, little one,” he whispered softly, not wanting to wake you. “I know I need to be better for your mom. She’s doing so much already, and I need to support her more. She needs her sleep, and I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”
Milo tilted his head, watching Lando with curious eyes before settling back down. Lando chuckled softly, patting Milo’s head.
“We’re a team,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your mom, Milo, and me. We’re going to be a great team, and we’ll always be here for you. I promise to be better.”
He leaned in and kissed your belly, then your forehead, before settling down beside you. Milo snuggled up at your feet, the three of you finally finding a moment of peace.
As you slept, you felt Lando’s hand still resting on your belly, his presence a comforting anchor. The journey ahead might be filled with challenges, but with Lando’s love and support, you felt ready to take on the journey of being a parent.
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MASTERLIST
Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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chosok-amo · 3 months
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MACARONS .ᐟ
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suguru g. satoru g. you're almost nine months pregnant and craving for macarons that suguru brought for you, you've been waiting for a long time to eat them, but that seems impossible if you have a sweet tooth for another husband.
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as you descended the stairs with hopeful anticipation, thoughts of the sweet macarons suguru had painstakingly waited in line to dance in your mind. each step was a reminder of your heavy, pregnancy-laden body, your back aching and feet protesting with each movement. the promise of those delicate treats provided a rare moment of solace in an otherwise physically taxing day.
entering the kitchen, your heart sank as you noticed the empty space where the box of macarons should have been. a rush of emotions flooded over you—frustration, disappointment, and exhaustion all mingled together.
“satoru!” you called out, your voice carrying a mixture of accusatory anger and hurt. deep down, you knew exactly who had likely devoured the macarons, given satoru's notorious sweet tooth.
your call immediately brought satoru to the kitchen, his steps echoing loudly with a certain sense of guilt to it. he knew exactly what you were talking about, especially with that certain tone you used to call him.
he leaned by the wall, a few feet away from you, shoving his hands inside his pockets. “yes, my lovely wife?” he said with a cheeky smile, playing dumb with full knowledge of what he has done. tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your emotions. “you ate them, didn’t you?” you accused, your voice trembling with a mix of sadness and frustration.
satoru's smile turned into a smirk as he saw the tears forming in your eyes, as sadistic as it may be, he found it incredibly cute of you whenever you cried, especially if he's the reason behind it.
he slowly strut towards you, taking a step every few seconds, his hands still inside his pockets. “i have no idea what you're talking about, my love,” he said, trying to feign innocence while standing right in front of you, looking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to express the depth of your disappointment. “satoru, do you have any idea how much I was looking forward to those? my back hurts, my feet hurt, and it's so hard for me to even walk, and now... now this,” you choked out between sobs.
satoru's playful attitude faded slightly as he saw the tears streaming down your face. while he enjoyed teasing you and provoking your anger, seeing you upset like this tugged at his heartstrings a little.
he let out a sigh, reaching out and gently wiping away your tears with his fingers. “i'm sorry, bunny. i couldn't resist the temptation, they were just so good.”
he moved his hands to your waist, gently pulling you closer to him, his voice softening as he spoke. “i didn't think it would upset you this much.” before he chuckled and pinched your chin, tilting your face to look up at him. “you're overreacting a little bit, aren't you? it's just a box of macarons,” he teased, a playful smirk still plastered on his face as he takes a few steps back.
your frown became visible and deeper each second you looked at satoru's expressions like he was not feeling guilty for making you cry but instead making fun of you for it. “it's not just a box of macarons, suguru got it for me and he waited a long time in line for it,” your voice starts to rise.
he continued to smirk as he watched tears flow down your face, his grip on your chin tightening slightly as you raised your voice, clearly getting annoyed, which only amused him more.
“yes, yes, i know.” he said, feigning sympathy, his tone mocking. “and all that effort was wasted because i finished them.” he continued to taunt you, reveling in your distress.
suguru, hearing the commotion, hurried into the kitchen, his expression concerned as he assessed the situation. “what's going on?” he quickly walks close to you and wraps his arm around your waist to wipe your tears away you turned to him, tears flowing freely now. “he ate the macarons, suguru. the ones you waited in line for,” your finger pointing at satoru.
suguru's concerned expression quickly turned into a scowl as he heard your words. he turned towards satoru, a mixture of disappointment and irritation etched on his face. disbelief as he looked from you to satoru, then back at you again. he knew his best friend had a sweet tooth, but eating something that was specifically picked for you during times like this? it was too much even for his standards.
he let out a sigh, rubbing your back comfortingly as he addressed gojo. “satoru, what were you thinking? you know how excited she was for those macarons.” he then turned his attention back to you, gently wiping away your tears. “don't cry, love. it's just pastries, i can get you another box, hm?”
“no, I don't want another one, it's gonna take a long time for you to get me one and I want to eat it now!” you cry harder as you bury your face in suguru's chest, holding tight to his clothes like a kid.
suguru's expression softened as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his chest, gently rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. he shot a disapproving glare at satoru, silently silently scolding him for making you cry so much over something as small as a box of sweets.
“there, there, it's alright,” he cooed, gently stroking your hair. “i understand you're upset, but let's calm down, alright? there's no need to cry over this. I'll get you anything you want, okay baby?”
satoru snickered at your display of emotionality, finding it entertaining how worked up you were over the macarons. satoru watched from the side, a smirk still playing on his face. he found the sight of you holding onto suguru like a kid absolutely adorable. “look at you, throwing a tantrum over a box of pastries. so cute.” he walk closer, “my, my, you're more emotional than usual, aren't you?” he teased lightly, his fingers gently running through your hair.
fast enough to startle him, you turn your head to satoru the moment you hear the last word he throws at you. “i hate you! you're always like this and only thinking about yourself!” your beautiful pink lips spat a fire, a dagger straight to satoru's heart.
you smack his hand away from you before leaving the kitchen to your bedroom, still crying. seeing you walk away like a wake-up call for satoru. doesn't matter how mad you are at him you never use the words and seeing you like that makes him realize that he's making a great mistake, a fatal one might be.
his smirk faded from his face in an instant as soon as those words left your lips. he stood there, stunned by your sudden outburst, his arm frozen outstretched in the air, where it had been just seconds ago.
as you smacked his hand away and stormed off to your bedroom, satoru stood there frozen in place, the reality of his mistake sinking in. the sound of each step punctuating the weight of your words still ringing in his ears. he could see the pain he caused you, and the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. he felt a pang of guilt and shame creeping up inside of him.
suguru watched you walk away, a mixture of shock and disappointment on his face. he shot a glare at satoru, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. “nice going, satoru. you really messed up this time,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. suguru knows you never mean any of those words but satoru might not.
he exchanged a glance with suguru, who had a slight frown on his face. satoru sighed heavily, breaking the silence. "i messed up, didn't i?" he muttered, his playful demeanor replaced by genuine guilt. suguru's brows furrowed in disappointment as he looked at satoru, before he spoke up.
"you've outdone yourself this time, you idiot."
he had always known his playful teasing could sometimes push the boundaries, but this was different. seeing the look of anger and hurt on your face. hearing those harsh words leaving your pink lips stung more than he had ever thought possible. your beautiful pink lips, once so kind and nurturing, unleashed a fire fueled by frustration and sadness.
“fuck, what did I do?—” he whispered, both hands on his white lock, gripping them a handful. he looks to suguru, wishing for a solution, hoping that maybe suddenly suguru has a time machine and he can undo the things. “what should I do?” he asks the raven.
“i don't know satoru, how about not eating the macarons which is by the way you know how long she's been waiting to eat those and make fun of her,” suguru covered in sarcasm answered.
suguru's words were sharp, laced with a hint of irritation and disappointment. he couldn't hold back the sarcasm in his voice as he replied to satoru's question, making it clear that he was upset with his behavior.
“well, perhaps if you had a bit more restraint, you wouldn't be in this situation,” suguru continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “you know how much she was looking forward to those pastries, and yet you chose to act like a child, eating them without a second thought. now look at the mess you've caused.”
satoru let out a frustrated sigh as suguru's response hit him like a ton of bricks, the sarcasm in his tone making him feel even more guilty than he already did. he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in his expression.
“i know, i know, i messed up. i should have just left those damn macarons alone,” he said through gritted teeth. “i just didn't think she'd react like... like that.” he looked back at the hallway leading to your bedroom, his heart sank seeing your tear-stained face in his mind.
“what did you expect, satoru? she's pregnant, emotional, and carrying a child which takes a toll on her body. she's going through a lot, and you're behaving like you're still a child,” suguru sighed, crossing his arms as he looked at his stupid husband, sitting at the dining chair with head on both hands. “go apologies, she needs more than just empty words.”
satoru brings his head up from his palm, looking at suguru like he's about to cry, eyes red and his blue pupils shaking. “baby, she must not want to see me right now, what should I do?” satoru holds his husband's hand while the other is stuck to his forehead.
suguru's gaze softened, seeing the vulnerability in satoru's eyes. the usual playful facade was gone, replaced by a mixture of guilt and uncertainty. suguru could tell that he was genuinely regretful.
suguru squeezed satoru's hand, feeling the tremble in his grip. he could see the despair in his voice and the fear of losing the connection they shared.
“listen, satoru,” he said gently, guiding satoru to sit on the couch. he took a seat next to him, their hands still clasped together. “she just needs time to calm down. give her a little space, but don't wait too long. show her that you understand what you did wrong and how much you regret it.”
“can you go to her first? you can calm her down, I'll be waiting at the door until she's ready to see me,” hopefully satoru trying to convince suguru. the man chuckled softly, seeing the pleading look in his lover's eyes. he knew how much he missed your presence and wanted to make amends so he nodded in agreement.
“alright, I'll go talk to her first. remember, don't wait too long, alright?” suguru got up from the couch and made his way to your bedroom with satoru following from behind, still holding onto the man's hand until they both stopped in your shared bedroom with them. suguru softly knocked on the door and could be heard faintly by you inside the bedroom.
“honey, it's me, can I come in?”
you looked up from where you were lying on the bed, your tear-streaked face a testament to the flood of emotions coursing through you. hearing suguru's voice at the door, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.
“come in,“ you called out, your voice slightly hoarse and wobble from crying. suguru slowly opened the door and stepped inside the bedroom, his eyes immediately found you lying on the bed.
his heart ached to see you in such a state, tears staining your cheeks and your eyes red and puffy. he walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, his gaze filled with concern.
“how are you feeling, love?”
your initial resistance lessened as you felt suguru's gentle touch, his hand cupping your cheeks and caressing away your tears. his voice, soft and filled with care as he whispered, “come here, baby,” made you want to melt into his embrace.
you complied, moving closer to him and burying your face into his chest, seeking comfort in his familiar scent and warmth. you let yourself be pulled into his embrace, your head resting on his chest as he held you close, leaning against the bed rest. his touch was tender and reassuring, his fingers running through your hair in a soothing gesture.
tears welled up in your eyes again, your body shaking as you began to cry softly once more. “i just wanted the damn macarons,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt.
suguru cannot help but chuckle at your adorableness, smiling to himself, “i know baby, I know. I'll get them for you, as much as you want, satoru will buy you the store if you want to, but stop crying okay? it's not good for you, your head is gonna hurt, hm?”
suguru's chuckle made you feel a mix of annoyance and affection. you knew he was right, but the frustration was still bubbling up inside you.
you sniffled and wiped away your tears, trying to compose yourself a bit. “i just... i just wanted those damn macarons. i'm tired, and everything hurts, and i just wanted something sweet to eat. is that too much to ask for?”
suguru shook his head, “no baby, of course not, it's just that satoru—”
you didn't give suguru to finish his sentence before you cut him off, “he's laughing at me suguru, for fuck sake. he laughs like he doesn't care and makes fun of me like my needs don't matter—”
your shared bedroom door brushes open and satoru walks in, fast enough for you not to give him the proper reaction as he suddenly sits in front of you, both hands holding yours tightly, holding for his dear life.
satoru's eyes flickered between you and suguru, his heart clenching tightly at the sight of your red, tearful face. he could hear every word you had just said, the pain and frustration in your voice hitting him like a punch to the gut.
he gently grabbed your hands, his own shaking slightly as he gazed at you with a mix of guilt, remorse, and pleading in his eyes. “baby, please listen to me..” he began, his voice unsteady.
you looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. you could hear the sincere tone in his voice, the desperation and regret obvious. you didn't pull your hands away from his, but you didn't speak either.
suguru, seeing the tension in the room, sat quietly beside you, his gaze darting between you and satoru. his large hand softly caressing your waist. the air in the room was thick with anticipation, and all eyes were on satoru to continue.
your gaze met his, your eyes still watery from the tears but also carrying a hint of anger. you listened, but your expression remained stern, showing that you weren't ready to forgive him just yet.
satoru's grip on your hands tightened a little, his thumbs rubbing small, comforting circles on the backs of your hands. he could see the pain in your eyes, and it only made him feel worse.
“i know i messed up,” he began, his voice wavering.
“i should have never touched those macarons. i was being selfish, and it hurt you.” satoru looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with remorse. “you matter to me. your needs and wants are more important to me than anything else, especially a damn box of macaroons.”
he pauses for a moment, his grip loosening slightly in your hands. “i made a mistake, and i'm sorry. i should have thought of you, not just myself. i should have been more considerate and understanding.”
satoru's gaze softened, his eyes locked on yours as he spoke. “your needs matter more to me than anything. you're my wife, my love, and you're carrying our child. I should have prioritized you over a box of macarons, no matter how much i like them.”
he paused for a moment, his hands holding onto yours tightly. “should have never laughed at you or made you cry. i was acting like a stupid child, and you don't deserve that” satoru's eyes were full of remorse, every word he spoke tinged with guilt. he knew he had messed up, and he wanted nothing more than to fix it.
you listened to his words, feeling a mix of pain and relief in your heart. your anger was slowly fading, replaced by a strange tenderness for him.
satoru could see in your eyes that you were starting to soften, your expression becoming less guarded. he took it as a sign to continue pouring his heart out.
“i'm so sorry, baby,” he whispered. “i was stupid, and selfish, and i should have been more understanding. you deserve better than that. please forgive me.”
your resolve started to waver, the anger slowly being replaced by a mix of forgiveness and love. looking into his pleading eyes, your heart skipped a beat.
“you were a jerk,” you mumbled, your voice still holding a hint of annoyance. “and you made me cry, and you didn't care about my feelings.”
satoru looked at you with hope in his eyes, desperately trying to hold onto your hands, afraid that you'll slip away from him. “i know, i know. i was such a jerk, i'm sorry baby.”
you looked at him, your heart thudding heavily in your chest. hearing his sincere apologies and the pleading look in his eyes stirred up emotions within you.
you didn’t want to admit it, but you loved him, and seeing him so distraught and remorseful tugged at your heartstrings. a part of you just wanted to forgive him and be in his arms, but the hurt and frustration were still present.
you took a ragged breath, your voice quavering. “how can i trust that you won't do something like this again?”
satoru's expression became serious, his eyes filled with determination. “baby, i swear on everything i hold dear. i will never underestimate your needs again. your comfort, happiness, and wellbeing are my top priority from now on.”
he raised your knuckles to his lips, gently pressing a kiss against them as he looked at you with a desperate plea. “give me another chance, please. i will make up for it. I promise.”
your heart skipped a beat as his lips touched your knuckles, the softness of his touch making you melt a little. your resolve was weakening, and you could feel your anger melting away.
you looked at him, a mixture of resignation and love in your eyes. “I've been craving those macarons all day,” you said softly, a hint of pleading in your voice.
satoru's eyes lit up, a glimmer of hope flickering in his gaze. “anything for you, love. I'll get you all the macarons you want.” a small smile tugged at the corners of youe lips. seeing him so determined and sincere was making it difficult to hold onto your anger. you let out a small sigh, feeling the tension in your body easing a bit.
“promise?“ you asked, your tone almost teasing.
a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as satoru eagerly nodded, excitement in his eyes at the prospect of pleasing you. “yes, I promise, baby. I'll get you the most delicious macarons you've ever tasted. I'll order them from the best bakery in town.”
he gave your hands a gentle squeeze, his expression soft and sincere. “anything you want, just say it, and I'll make it happen.” he gave your hands another kiss. seeing how sorry he was, the guilt started eating you alive, the weight of the words you said to him before starting to eat you.
“i'm sorry for saying that I hate you, I didn't mean any of that, I just—” satoru shushed you gently, his arms holding you tighter against him. “no, baby, don't apologize. i understand why you said it, and you were completely justified.”
he pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, his voice filled with remorse. “I shouldn't have teased you like that, especially after you've been dealing with pregnancy hormones and cravings all day. you had every right to be upset with me.”
“yeah right, baby, you should smack the shit out of him,“ he added playfully, gently pinching your cheeks. “do you want me to use my rainbow dragon on him? I could totally do that.”
suguru's playful suggestion managed to coax a small chuckle out of you, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you glanced at him, shaking your head slightly. “no, no, suguru, that won't be necessary. as tempting as that sounds, I'd rather not see any more dragon destruction for now.”
satoru rolled his eyes and shot a mock glare at Suguru. despite his attempt at seriousness, a small smile betrayed his true feelings. “thanks for the support, suguru,” he said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood. suguru shrugged, grinning. “hey, someone has to keep you in line, satoru. If it takes a rainbow dragon, then so be it.”
“oh, please,” satoru retorted, crossing his arms.
“Like you've never made a mistake. remember the time you—” suguru cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. “we’re not talking about me. this is about you eating the macarons. focus, Satoru.” satoru huffed, his eyes narrowing playfully.
“I think you just enjoy seeing me in trouble.”
suguru smirked, leaning back. “maybe I do. but only because it's so easy to get you riled up.”
“yeah, well, not all of us can be perfect like you, Mr. dragon summoner,” satoru shot back, though his tone was light. suguru chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I never claimed to be perfect. Just better at avoiding macaron-related disasters.”
“ha! keep telling yourself that,” atoru replied, rolling his eyes again.
you watched their banter, a genuine smile forming on your face as their playful bickering helped ease the tension. “alright, boys, enough,” you said, your voice regaining a hint of lightness. “no more fighting. how about we focus on making things better?”
satoru nodded, his expression softening as he looked at you. “agreed. I'll start with that foot massage.”
“and I'll make sure he does it right,” suguru added with a wink, hugging your body to give your cheek a kiss, little bit too aggressive, earning another eye roll from satoru.
satoru positioned himself at the foot of the bed, gently taking your foot into his hands. his touch was tender and soothing, a stark contrast to his usual bold actions. he started massaging your foot gently, his fingers rubbing in small circles.
suguru, never one to stay silent for long, continued his playful banter, trying to keep the atmosphere light-hearted. “make sure you get the arches, satoru. pregnant feet need extra care, you know.” a smirk on his face as he watched satoru's attempt at making amends. “he's been practicing, you know,” he teased, causing satoru to roll his eyes once more.
satoru's fingers worked their magic, gently kneading and massaging your feet. He knew just how sore and tired they were from carrying you during your pregnancy. He focused on each sore spot, his touch firm and soothing.
meanwhile, suguru couldn't resist chiming in (again) with some light-hearted comments, poking fun at satoru occasionally. “watch your grip, satoru. no need to turn her feet into pancakes,” his eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched satoru perform his husbandly duties.
“you're a quick learner,” he quipped at satoru, who shot him a playful glare in response. he leaned over to satoru, a smug grin on his face. “make sure you don't miss a spot, lover boy. her feet need extra attention, considering the little one she's growing in there.”
satoru glanced up at suguru, a mock glare in his eyes. “oh, shut up. I know what I'm doing.”
757 notes · View notes
soap-ify · 8 months
Note
can you do a smut to fluff comfort where simon is overstimulating them and being super degrading and they safeword? Then Simon takes care of them and is basically just super sweet.
this has been sitting in my inbox for so long :( so sorry anon i hope you like it!!
cw — smut at first, degradation, use of safeword, gentle aftercare and lots of comfort.
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simon had been frustrated that day, very frustrated after coming back from work. and you felt like trying something new for him.
“fucking slag… look at you takin’ this cock so well.” he spat bitterly, his girthy cock mercilessly ploughing into your tight cunt, his hands gripping your hips in a hard and bruising manner. “too dumb to even speak now, eh? only good for takin’ some cock.”
he had asked you so sweetly at first, if he could take his frustrations out on you, and you had agreed because you wanted to please your boyfriend so badly. plus some crappy porno made you think that rough sex can be amazing. silly reason, yeah.
but right now, all those insults spewing out of his mouth seemed genuine and scary, messing up with your head while your body was all sensitive from already orgasming a few times before. it was overwhelming, too overwhelming — and you knew that if you don’t speak up now, you’ll break down horribly anytime soon.
but god, you felt so guilty. you were supposed to be relaxing him, not turning it onto yourself.
“r-red…!” you managed to choke out, tears sliding down your cheeks as your fingers digged into his shoulder blades, causing simon to halt almost immediately.
“what?” his voice was gruff, eyes still a bit glossy from fucking you, though his grip had loosened significantly and worry was soon blooming onto his face.
“red…” you repeated weekly, lips wobbling as you quickly looked away, not wanting him to look at you crying over something like this.
simon gently eased himself out of you and rolled by your side, his calloused hands cradling your face. “oh, love… did i hurt you? was it too much?” he may have been sounding concerned and still reserved though he was internally panicking inside, wanting to rip and beat some sense into himself.
“yes,” you sniffled and nodded, your hands trembling as you leaned into his embrace, soft pants leaving your lips. “too rough..”
“fuck, m’sorry. so sorry, love. got carried away for a second, i-” he paused, his heart aching terribly with guilt and concern as he saw your face all soaked with tears. it soon dawned on him how mean he was being, even if you had agreed to it. he should’ve known that you were probably not used to this, maybe not even into it.
he slowly got up from the bed and helped you off the bed, his burly arms supporting you. he took you over to the bathroom and soon ran a warm bath for you, helping you sit in the bathtub, your little winces making his heart sink.
“i didn’t mean any of those words, y’know…” he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, his fingers gently caressing your head.
“i know…” you sniffled and smiled up at him sheepishly. “maybe i’m too soft for all that.”
simon sighed softly and sat by the edge of the bathtub, not caring about himself at all right now. all of his focus was solely on you, helping you clean yourself and dry up once you were done, dressing you in some comfortable pajamas.
once he came back after cleaning himself up, he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked over at you, his once stern brown eyes now soft with love and pain. “i’m so sorry, i mean it…”
“don’t apologise, si…” you gently wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands supporting your hips as he carefully propped you on top of him once he laid down, caressing your lower back.
“i love you… never wanna hurt you, y’know. m’so proud of you for speakin’ the safeword. so proud of you.” he smothered your head with chaste kisses, his breath caressing your skin.
“i love you too…” you mumbled softly, exhaustion soon taking over you. you let his heartbeat lull you into sleep alongside his soft murmurs, feeling safe once again.
2K notes · View notes
scarletssienna · 1 month
Text
2am, who do you love?
Summary - Taking on a relationship with a married woman has its downfalls. Particularly in the whole exclusivity category. word count: 6k
Warnings - cheating, mommy wanda, age gap relationship, oral, begging, fighting, sub!reader, obsessed wanda, dom!sub undertones, angst, choking, fingering, jealousy, hair-pulling
AN - my inability to post promptly is truly my downfall. Due to popular request here is an update to I Was Heavenstruck for yall! I hope you enjoy! Pt. 1 here
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18+ minors/men dni
When you woke up the next morning a sick twisting feeling was churning your stomach. It wasn’t the alcohol as anticipated. Instead, it was the sickly feeling of guilt. Vision was your older brother's best friend growing up. You always looked up to them. And here you were, sneaking around with his wife. You rolled over and sighed as the cold empty bed left you waiting. Slowly, you got out of bed, shivering slightly as you wrapped your arms around your body. Your hands clung to the fabric wrapped around you before looking down. Realization on who’s clothes you were wearing startled you as memories of last night came back. You groaned and reached for your phone on the nightstand. Not wanting to face Wanda or vision you knew you had to get out of there as quickly as possible. You sighed as you called Natasha, requesting a ride home. She agreed to pick you up and would be there in 20 minutes. You thanked her and sat back on the bed. Trying to make the time go quicker as you wait in the uncomfortable and unfamiliar environment. Of course, the person you wanted to see the least knocked on the door before peeking her head in. Wanda came in with a small smile on her face, shutting the door behind her.
“Hey.” She hummed as she walked towards you. “Are you staying for breakfast?” She asked as she sat next to you, her hands rubbing up your legs slowly. You flinched at her touch and frowned. Despite wanting to feel against her touch, your body denied you and you leaned into the comfort. She noticed the tension but decided not to address it.
“No, I uh, I have work tomorrow. I should really get back.” You said as you gave her a guilty look.
“When has that stopped you before?” She teased in a gentle manner. When you failed to respond with a teasing quip back she sighed, giving in. She took your hand and set your phone to the side. “Sweetheart what’s wrong?” She questioned in a gentle tone. She kissed the back of your hand.
“Wanda, I don't want to be your secret. I don’t want to sneak around with you.” You said as you turned to look away from her, avoiding her gaze.
“Darling. It’s no different than before. Have you ever felt like a secret before with me?” She asked, her piercing green eyes watching you. Slowly, you shook your head. You had no idea. You wouldn’t have known. I mean, sure the relationship was new and you would know later on but right now it really made no difference.
“It’s…” you paused, struggling to think of reasonings. “Unethical.” You choked out before looking her in the eyes. “It’s unethical.” You said more firmly.
“Unethical?” She questioned as she cracked a tiny smile.
“Yes, unethical.” You needed to hold firm. “Wanda I don’t want to sneak around with you. It’s wrong. What you’re doing to Vision is wrong.” She sighed and let go of your hand. She stood up and smoothed out her clothes.
“Stay for breakfast?” She questioned again, more quietly this time. “Vision left for work early. I don’t like to eat alone.” You wanted to be upset at how she disregarded your words but something in you made you wait as you heard the sadness in her voice when she spoke about Vision.
“It’s Saturday?” You questioned with a small frown. Wanda just nodded and started leaving the room.
“Tell him that.” She murmured before speaking up. “Come, coffee is getting cold.” She said as she left the room. You checked your phone. Around five minutes until Natasha said she would be there. No need to sit and wait at the door you supposed. You grabbed your dress that was neatly hanging in the room and your shoes and walked downstairs following Wanda. She poured you a cup of coffee before sitting down across from you at the counter, carefully pushing the mug towards you. You sighed and set your items next to you on the chair before sitting down. You slowly sipped the coffee, not speaking. She offered you some cereal and got herself some when you denied her offer. You two sat silent for one of the first times. Despite how you usually felt. It wasn’t comfortable silence. The tension was tearing you to shreds as you waited for Natasha anxiously. When you got a text from her you stood quickly.
“My rides here.” You said and picked up your stuff again. Wanda looked surprised but nodded anyway.
“I’ll see you out.” She said as she followed you to the door, opening it for you. You stopped by the door after she opened it.
“Thanks for the coffee. And the head.” You said before turning bright red, your eyes going wide when you realized what you said. “Bed! I mean bed. Thanks for letting me spend the night, I mean!” You stuttered out in a slew of words. She grinned a little and nodded.
“Anytime darling.” She said as she leaned down, kissing you softly. You kissed back despite your previous conversation before hurrying off to Natasha’s car. It was a short walk of shame but a walk of shame nonetheless. You threw your dress and heels in the back seat before turning to Natasha.
“Drive.” You said in a pleading tone. She laughed and pulled out of the driveway.
“What the hell happened last night?” She questioned after a few minutes of silence. Her question caused you to grumble. You let your head fall into your hands as you rubbed your face in embarrassment. She laughed next to you, her hand reaching over and rubbing your thigh in a comforting manner. “Sounds like you had fun?” She asked again, causing another groan.
“It’s not funny Natasha.” You said firmly as you looked up towards her, making eye contact for a moment. This just caused her to grin even bigger which sent you into laughter herself. “So much for never seeing her again.” You murmured as you shook your head. Embarrassment washed over you again and your face turned red. “God I think I even called her mommy.” You groaned as you buried your head in your hands again. Natasha choked on a laugh at that as she faked a gasp.
“Mommy?” She questioned with a laugh. “Damn I didn’t know you were into that shit.” She smirked. “Sounds like I’ve gotta have you start calling me Daddy.” She teased and squeezed your thigh with a smile on her face. You grumbled and chuckled a little.
“Fuck you.” You murmured as you peaked over your hands and looked up at her. “How about you put yourself to good use and drive us to my apartment, Daddy.” You teased, a playful grin now on your face.
“Yes ma’am.” She hummed and smiled as she drove. Her hand on your thigh leaving subtle comfort as she drove. When you got there you turned to her.
“Will you stay for a while Natty?” You requested and she obliged, carrying your stuff inside for you. When you get inside you head upstairs to take a shower and change into your own clothes. Returning downstairs you smile as you see Natasha sitting on the couch, a movie turned on the TV. You smiled and walked towards her, sitting down next to her, curling into her side. She wraps her arm around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“So, how was I as a fake girlfriend?” She asks with a little smile on her face. You chuckle at her question and shake your head.
“A little handsy I suppose.” You teased with a grin. She laughs at your answer.
“Oh you loved it.” She said with a laugh. “You know Daddy can’t keep his hands off of you.” She said in a playful deep low voice causing you to laugh.
“Knock it off. You’re talking over the movie.” You say through laughter as you press your fingers into her side, tickling her before reaching for the remote and turning up the volume.
The day went fast as you and Natasha watched movies for most of it. Later, when you realized how late it was you encouraged her to spend the night. She agreed and said she would sleep on the couch. You returned to your room upstairs. Checking your phone before going to sleep you realized you had a notification. It was from Wanda.
“Goodnight <3 I hope you sleep well and know I care about you so much, Detka. All my love, Wanda.”
Ever since you had met she had texted you both morning and night. Sweet messages about how she cared about you or how she couldn’t wait to see you. Somehow it all still felt new and unexpected to you. Sure Wanda had lied, but she’d cared more for you in the three months you knew her than anyone else in a relationship ever had. You had to admit it felt quite good.
The next day you went off to work. The second you got there your coworker could barely get a word in as you spilled to her all about what had gone on. You needed advice. Help on what to do. Since the coffee shop wasn’t very busy and you were closing early since it was Sunday she grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen. She grinned as she wrote pros and cons on the top then began writing a list of off the things you rambled off.
“Well I mean the pros are easy.” You stated as you laughed at the paper, sweeping the floor around you two. “Shes so great. She’s stunningly beautiful. She’s funny. Insanely kind to me. Like just the way she checks in on me.” You thought with a smile. “She’s always there to listen to my problems and complains. I mean one time I complained that it was too cold and I had to fill up my car with gas. I kid you not, she refused to let me get out of the car and literally ran out to go pump it and pay for it herself!” You said with shock in your voice. “I haven’t pumped my own gas since.” You said with a grin before continuing sweeping. “And also she’s always taking me on these super sweet dates. She holds my hand and cuts up my fruit for me.” You smiled to yourself as you remembered your first date. “Sometimes we just go lay at the park and she’ll read me the most beautiful books.” You locked eyes with your friend. “And don’t even get me started on her accent. I could actually listen to her talk for hours.” You bit your lip softly. “The way it comes through stronger when she gets excited or talks really fast.” You hummed with a giggle. Clearly you were still giddy over her. You leaned over with a grin on your face. “And she gives great head.” Your friend laughed and added it to the list. When she asked about the cons and you thought for a moment, your smile fell. “I mean she lied about being married.” You thought again. Much harder than you had to think about the pros. “Um, I guess she?” Struggling to come up with any more you sighed and tapped your finger on the counter. “Oh! She likes olives and I can’t stand olives. That’s definitely a con.” You said as you pointed.
Just on que the door dinged. Wanda came in holding flowers and an envelope. Your coworker gave you a wink while mumbling.
“The olive theory.” She said with a grin before disappearing off into the back room. You quickly shoved the pros and cons paper out of view and walked towards Wanda, still behind the counter.
“Hey,” she said softly with a tiny smile on her face as she walked up and handed you the flowers. “These are for you.” You smiled a little and took them, looking down as you bit your lip.
“Wanda, you gave me flowers on Wednesday. And the Friday before that, and the Tuesday before that,” she cut you off with a laugh and guilty smile.
“These are different. These are apology flowers. I’m sorry.” She said as she slid the envelope towards you. “Besides, I made a promise I would fulfill your flower desire, didn’t I?” She bit her lip softly. You nodded a little and took the envelope from her, gently setting the flowers down on the counter. As you began to open it she stopped you, reaching out. “Wait until I leave.” She said as she looked into your eyes for agreement. You nodded, a little confused but you agreed anyway.
“Can I get you anything? It’s on the house. We’re closing soon anyways.” You asked as you took her hand into yours carefully, squeezing it twice softly. The soft squeeze of your hands had become a reassurance thing between the two of you. It started a few weeks ago when she took you to a particularly busy and unfamiliar shop. She could tell you were uncomfortable and in an attempt to make you feel better and tell you she was there she squeezed your hand twice, quietly checking in with you. Thus began the newfound silent connection.
“No that’s okay, I’ll leave you to work. I just wanted to drop this off” She smiled and let go of your hand, not until after she squeezed your hand twice. You smiled and nodded at her. You watched her leave biting your lip softly as she rounded the corner out of view. When your shift finished you hurried out to your car. As soon as you got in you were opening up the envelope, curious on what was inside. It was a letter.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Detka,
I’m writing this letter as a last resort. If you’re still upset with me I will keep my distance. You won’t ever have to see me again. I know what I did was wrong. I never should have lied to you. I messed up and I know that. I will do everything I can to make it up to you. My dishonesty made you not trust me. And I understand. I wouldn’t trust me either right now. But I want you to know, everything we had was real. Every emotion I felt was honest. I have felt more me when I’m with you than I’ve felt in so long. I love you Detka. I've never been able to admit it outloud but it’s true. Your smile, humor, adorable outfits, ability to amaze me everyday, and absolute beauty. How could I not love you? I never wanted to hurt you. I want you to give me another chance. I know what I have to do. I have to leave Vision. But I can’t. There are many reasons but none of which are due to love. We fell out of love years ago. Neither one of us has been able to confess it though. He's gone day after day working himself to the bone while his coworker enjoys his bone (if you know what I mean). I don’t want you to be a secret. But right now there’s too many variables going against us. I will make it up to you. I promise. Please, my love. Give me the chance.
Wanda
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Next thing you knew you were on Wanda’s doorstep. Your hand hovered up ready to knock for a moment while you hesitated. You closed your eyes for a second as you decided this was right, softly knocking on the door. You then took a tiny step back and waited. Wanda opened the door, peeking her head out cautiously. When she saw it was you she smiled and opened the door further. “Oh! Come in! Come in.” She said with a nod. You followed her in quickly before shutting the door for her and kissing her, pressing her against the door. She kissed back after a moment of shock, her hands going to your sides, pulling you closer. The kiss was broken after just a few moments with Wanda grinning. “I’ll take it you read my letter?” She asked.
“I love you too.” You answered simply as you cupped your hands around her face, kissing her softly. “I can’t lose you Wanda.” You sighed. “It’s not fair.” Your hands dropped down to her hand, holding and spinning her wedding ring around her finger. “It’s not fair, and it’s not ethical.” You repeated. “But I can’t lose you.” You let go of her hand as you leaned in, gently kissing her. “I love you.” You said softly.
“I love you too.” She mumbled out as she leaned in kissing you again, deeper this time. She flipped your bodies around. Pressing you to the door as she kissed you, her tongue eagerly seeking entrance into your mouth. You obliged eagerly. Your hands roamed across her body, sliding up and under her shirt to her bra. You grabbed her breast causing her to let out a breathy moan into the kiss before pulling away. “Wait.” She whispered as she pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. Your eyes searched for hers in confusion. “I rushed things the other night. I want to take this slow. I want to do this right.” She said, causing you to nod, a little shocked.
“Okay.” You nodded again, softly kissing her cheek with a smile. “Yeah okay that’s fine.” You smiled as she backed up slightly and took your hands.
“Want some wine?” She asked with a playful grin on her face. You laughed a little and nodded. As you’d learned she was always very excited for wine. You followed her to the kitchen and she got out a nice bottle of red wine and two glasses. She poured them carefully before handing yours to you. She then walked past you towards the living room. As she passed she slid her free hand down your arm and to your wrist, carefully wrapping her fingers around it as she pulled you with her. She sat down on the couch and took a sip of her wine before setting it on the coffee table in front of her. You followed and instead took your place, straddling her lap. You sipped your wine with a cheeky grin on your face. “This is where you’re going to sit?” She asked with a grin, her hands sliding to your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly.
“Yep.” You said with a grin, popping the p as you spoke. She chuckled and nodded as she rubbed up higher, her hands sliding towards your inner thighs. Her touch sent shivers down your spine as she moved closer and closer. You leaned down, kissing at her neck softly before sipping your wine. She took your glass from you, taking a sip before leaning forward to set it on the table. She kissed you with a hum and smile on her face. You kissed back deeply, your hands sliding under her shirt again. They slowly worked their way up, settling just below her bra when she pulled back from the kiss. “Tell me a secret, darling.” She insisted, her hands sliding. To your hips and to the loops of your jeans. You chuckled and kissed her neck as you thought. You both yearned to know more about one another. This led to many questions of asking about secrets. You blushed when one came to mind, pulling back a little to look at her with a grin. She raised her eyebrows encouragingly.
“Well,” you started before giggling and getting a little nervous. You decided to instead focus on her neck as you spoke, licking and biting a slow path down. “I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about the whole mommy…thing. At first.” You said with a small smile, remembering the conversation you had with Natasha. “But then.” You paused, sucking at her pulse point for a moment, causing her to tap on your thigh softly, reminding you to release and not leave marks. “I thought about it.” You bit softly before soothing with your tongue. “It’s really quite hot.” She laughed at your confession. It was a genuine laugh, her head falling back slightly. You laughed with her, pulling back slightly to look at her. You always enjoyed making her laugh and felt a beaming sense of pride when you managed it. After she calmed from her laughter you grinned again. “Your turn to share a secret.” You said quietly with a smile as you pulled back to look into her eyes again.
“Well I would really like to fuck you.” She admitted confidently, a smirk on her face as she watched for your reaction. Your breath hitched in your throat slightly before obliging. You leaned forward, capturing her lips in a kiss. Her hands slid down to your ass, squeezing lightly and causing a moan from your mouth. Your hands hesitated beneath her chest, sliding up slowly as your tongues moved in sync. She noticed your hesitation and broke the kiss for a moment, moving to kiss your neck. “You can touch me darling.” She hummed as she pulled back to look at you with a soft smile. “I don’t bite.” She winked and bit her bottom lip as you slid your hands up to slowly cup her breasts. “Unless you want me to.” She teased and leaned forward kissing your neck again. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room, groaning as you reached behind her to unclip her bra.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
The next few months began a new kind of normal. You two spent more time than ever together. The situation got more comfortable as you realized just how often vision was gone. Sure you were sneaking around, but you really didn’t have try all that hard. You were laying your head on Wanda’s lap as she stroked your hair, a sitcom Wanda enjoyed was playing on the TV. You weren’t watching though as you thought about your plans for the weekend and how Wanda would feel. You hesitated as you began to ask.
“Are we exclusive?” You asked as you started at the TV. “I mean, obviously vision is one thing but like…you know.” You asked in a murmur. Your question caught Wanda off guard. She hadn’t expected you to even want to be seeing other people. The possibility had never even crossed her mind. You didn’t want to be seeing other people either, but the question lingered in your mind anyway.
“I suppose not.” Wanda said slowly as she moved her hand through your hair. “I guess it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask that of you would it?” She questioned, hurt seeping through her voice subtly. “But I’m not seeing anyone else. I’ve never even thought about it.” She clarified quickly. You caught the nervousness in her voice and shifted your body to look up at her.
“Wands I’m not asking cause I want to see other people.” You said with a small smile on your face. “Natasha asked if I wanted to go out to the parties and bar this weekend and I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you.” You took her other hand and kissed the back of it softly. “I just didn’t want you getting all jealous, that's all.” You said with a small shrug as you turned back to face the tv. She nodded slightly relieved at your reasoning.
“You’re a college kid. You should go out. Enjoy the parties while you can.” You hummed in response, not noticing her tenseness at the thought of drunk college boys with their hands all over you. She couldn’t restrict you though. It wouldn’t be fair. I mean she was married for Christ’s sake. You could of course go to a little party.
That Friday you followed your word, going out with Natasha. You got ready together and put on a pair of black jeans, a black bra, with a sleeveless black mesh top, and a pair of ratty old white sneakers. You weren’t a huge fan of going out and rarely did. You’d only been to a couple frat or house parties and didn't enjoy the bar. Natasha had insisted recently though that you had to go out and was quite excited. You pregamed with a few shots which left you wobbly as you went to the first party. You never really drank so the alcohol hit you quickly. Natasha was nowhere to be seen once you got there. You settled towards the wall, a red solo cup in hand as you watched people move about the small space. Unexpectedly a guy came up to you and began talking. He introduced himself as Steve and offered to get you a drink. You obliged and began talking, the two of you drinking together quite a lot. You eventually started dancing, getting really close as you two moved together. His arms wrapped around you, getting a little handsy. The alcohol clouded your mind. Your arms were around his shoulders and talking in his ear as you danced. Quickly, he kissed you. His tongue almost instantly enters your mouth. It was sloppy and not enjoyable but you were quite drunk so it was expected. Suddenly you felt someone pulling you back away from him. You turned around with a gasp and saw Natasha standing there pissed off. She scolded you before cursing at him and telling him to go away.
“What are you doing?” She questioned as she pulled you against her, moving to the beat so as to not be awkward. “You don’t even like guys.” She leaned forward whispering in your ear as she laughed. The realization hit you and you grew a shocked expression on your face.
“You’re right!” You practically yelled. “Oh my god what was I doing!” You laughed as you both danced against each other to the music. “You saved me!” You exclaimed as you grabbed her face, kissing her. She was started but just as drunk so she quickly kissed back. You began to make out heavily. This was sloppy again at your current state but much more enjoyable. You moaned into her mouth with a groan as she grabbed at your ass.
“Let’s go.” Natasha mumbled through kissing. You nodded and basically stumbled out of the house. You two could barely make it a couple feet in between your tongues being in each other's mouths again. She pulled you off into some alley, pressing you against the wall. She kissed roughly at your neck causing you to moan. She left a few marks before she kissed you again, her hands finding the button to your jeans. You lifted your hips toward her with a groan. Her hand quickly makes her way inside your pants. You gasped at her touch, her fingers making quick work of rubbing through your slit and finding your clit. She was rough and fast but the aggression made it all the more enjoyable. She bit at your bottom lip and you let out a loud moan. Pressing her body against yours she slid two fingers inside of you, pumping them quickly. Your gasping and moaning loudly typically wouldn’t bother Natasha but not wanting to get caught she needed you to quiet down. She moved her other hand over your mouth covering it with a little comforting smile. She muffled your moans as her hand picked up speed. You were quickly close, letting your head fall onto her shoulder as she fucked you harder. You came with a moan, stifled by her hand. She kissed roughly at your neck, following through, helping you through your high. When you settled, catching your breath she moved her hand away from your mouth and slowly pulled her hand out of your pants. You grumbled slightly and kissed her softly before pulling back and leaning against the wall to keep catching your breath.
“You better help me home after that, Natty.” You said, a small grin pulling at the corner of your mouth. She laughed, kissing you softly as she wiped her hand on her pants and wrapped her arm around you. She walked you home through stumbles.
The next morning you woke up in bed alone. Natasha was never one to stay the night. You grumbled and grabbed your phone from the bedside table. Shivering, you checked the time and remembered you had brunch plans with Wanda at her house. You stood quickly before gasping as you held your head. “Fuck.” You mumbled under your breath before going to get dressed. Quickly, you made your way to Wanda’s, not bothering to look in the mirror all that closely. When you arrived she was waiting for you by the door. She opened it for you and greeted you happily.
“Good morning darling.” She hummed as you instantly entered her open embrace. Wrapping your body around hers you smiled, resting your head beneath her chin.
“Morning.” You murmured softly as you closed your eyes, sighing happily as you breathed in her scent. “I missed you.” You said as you pulled away slightly to look at her with a tiny smile.
“You saw me yesterday, my love.” She teased, prodding at your side softly. The touch made you squirm, laughing as you kissed her cheek. “But I missed you too.” She agreed before moving into the kitchen, a soft grip wrapped around your wrist. The way she guided you sent butterflies to your stomach. Biting your lip, you leaned back against the counter as she finished getting things situated at the table. “Go have a seat Detka.” She said with a soft smile before bringing the plate of food to the table. You moved to your seat at the table and sat down, smiling up at her and thanking her quietly. She then sat across from you with a smile. She served you your food for you before noticing something. You happily began to eat before feeling her eyes on you. Her smile had turned into a quizzical frown and she was gnawing on her bottom lip.
“What?” You asked as your hands reached your face, wiping your cheek as you thought you must have food or something on your face. She shook her head and looked down at her plate, suddenly looking upset. “Wands? What?” You asked again as you reached out to her, grabbing her hand softly. She took a moment before leaving her chair. She stood and walked around behind you. Your eyes followed her intently. She stood above you, her hand reaching down towards your neck. She guided your head up at her thumb traced on a hickey Natasha had left.
“I didn’t leave this here?” She questioned, her fingers slowly wrapping around your neck. The touch caused you to gasp out a tiny moan as she squeezed your neck softly. “Did I?” She asked as she stared down at you.
“No.” You spoke as loud as you could muster, though it was softer than a whisper.
“Who?” She asked, not letting up on her grip. Her eyes tore daggers through you. She already knew who it was though. There was only one person other than her you’d ever let do this to you.
“Natasha.” You murmured out sheepishly, a small blush flooding across your face. Her hand released, making you gasp for air beneath her.
“How?” She spoke firmly, sending shivers down your spine. The question made you pause as you searched her eyes frantically for an answer. “How did she fuck you.” She repeated, drawing out every word slowly. Just when you had been sure your face couldn’t get any more red it managed to prove you wrong. You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. Her hand rose and left a firm slap across your face. You moaned at the touch. Her hand softly soothed the red mark it had left, your head following her hand as you leaned into her embrace.
“Please.” You murmured out softly in a broken whine. She didn’t budge as she shook her head.
“How did she fuck you?” Her question repeated and your jaw shook. She pulled your chair back and moved to your front, straddling your lap. “Answer mommy, sweetheart.” She said as her hands roamed across your chest and neck.
“I,” you spoke in a stutter. “I thought we weren’t exclusive.” You said with a small concerned frown.
“Oh darling we’re not.” She assured you, nipping at your neck slightly with her teeth. “But you’re mine. And while Natasha may have used your sweet little body, I plan on reminding you exactly how you’re mine.” She said in a patronizing tone. “Mommy’s going to fuck you better than she ever could.” She said as she pulled her head back to look into your eyes, pouting her bottom lip out slightly. “Now tell Mommy how she fucked you.” She insisted. Slowly, you began to oblige.
“It was after a party. We were drunk.” You said softly, avoiding looking in her eyes. Her hand moved to your jaw, making you look at her. Squirming, you continued. “We had just left while making out and she took me into an alley.” Your breath hitched as she slid her hand back to your throat, tightening softly. “She ended up fingering me against the wall.” You said, a deep blush across your face. She smiled when you finished.
“Is that all Detka?” She asked, causing you to nod. She smiled bigger and released the grip on your throat instead pulling you into a kiss. You kissed back eagerly, your embarrassment washing away as your tongues moved together.
“Please mommy,” you begged softly in a whine as you ground your hips up into her. She stood up and nodded, taking your hand and pulling you to the wall. She pushed you up against it, causing you to grunt. Her body pressed against yours as her hands slid down your body. You moaned at her touch. Her hands slid to your pants, sliding them down as she kissed down your body. Her fingers grazed across your panties delicately, your hips thrusting into her touch. She leaned forward and closed her mouth on your heat, sucking softly. She then pulled your panties down quickly. Her fingertips traced along your thighs as her tongue teased you. Her tongue flicked around your clit, not enough to give you any great relief. Her fingers teased at your slit, slowly sliding one finger inside of you. You gasped and moved your hand to her hair. “Mommy fuck, oh my god.” You whined out while you squirmed. She took your words as encouragement and suddenly stopped teasing. Two fingers slipped inside you and began working you up quickly. Her tongue moved across your clit as she sucked and swirled her tongue across where you needed it most. She worked you up quickly, pumping her fingers moving fast, pushing you deep. Your moans were loud as you approached an orgasm quickly. Groaning, you tugged on her hair.
“Go ahead baby, cum for Mommy.” She encouraged you, causing you to lose control almost immediately. Moaning loudly you reached climax, her hair laced between your fingers. She helped you through, fucking you deeply, her tongue not easing up. When you calmed, her motions slowed. Happily, she cleaned you up with her tongue before helping you step out of your pants so you could walk. She stood and kissed at your neck softly as she held you up, her body supporting yours. You leaned against her as you caught your breath, closing your eyes as you leaned into her touch. You knew her actions were out of jealousy, not envy. Slowly, you kissed her.
“Maybe Natasha could come over sometime?” You questioned quietly before searching her eyes for a reaction. “I think you two would make quite the pair.” You said with a little wink. She just nodded, slowly. A smile formed across her face as she picked you up. You laughed as you wrapped your arms around her quickly. She carried you to her room, her fingers teasing at your side tickling you. You laughed in her embrace, squirming. “Wanda!” You scolded through laughter. She set you on the bed before crawling next to you and giving you a tender kiss.
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★ patrick zweig x reader ★ you and patrick are both in relationships, but after meeting at an event, you can't quit each other. you both know it's wrong, but you just can't stop. you're addicted to each other, unable to go without your fix. ★ 10.2k ★ 18+ | cw: angst, cheating, smut: unprotected sex, choking, slapping, f oral ★ an: this one took me a while, hope u luv ! <3
it's not like you and patrick don't acknowledge you shouldn't be doing what you're doing, you do, often. but there's something about patrick zweig that just keeps drawing you back in. he feels the same, patrick may look like he has very few morals, but typically, cheating is something he'd never do. usually, when in a relationship, patrick's completely locked in. but there's something different about what you two share. yeah, it's sex, but it's more. it's primal, the attraction, the whole experience. there should be guilt, you should both feel so guilty that it doesn't continue, so sick to your stomachs that you can't fathom seeing each other again, but you don't. the relationship you share with patrick overshadows every other feeling you could endure. it's an automatic reaction, an addiction, something neither you or patrick could begin to live without anytime soon. it all started two months ago, you'd been with your boyfriend a year, patrick in his relationship nine months. you met at an adidas party a few years into patrick's career, during your second season in professional tennis. setting eyes on patrick across the dance floor, it was as though you could feel your body come alive.
red dress slick to your skin, hips swaying, hands in your hair as you locked eyes with patrick. signature smirk plastered on his face, beer in hand as he watched you dance. licking his lips as you excused yourself and headed his way. it was almost involuntary as your feet started moving, feeling yourself being physically drawn to him. "like what you see, huh?" hands on hips as you speak the first words to patrick. he chuckles slightly, eye contact unbroken. "something like that." patrick introduces himself as you do, flirty smiles across both of your faces. you didn't need to speak to understand each other, know exactly what the other was really thinking, it went unspoken. "do you want a drink?" patrick asks, free hand slipping into his pocket. nodding your head as patrick leads you to the bar, buying you your favourite and moving to occupy a couple empty seats away from the crowd. "just to let you know, i have a boyfriend." you start, met with a hum from patrick, leaning his elbows on his knees as you sit opposite him. "and i have a girlfriend, doesn't mean i can't talk to you, does it?" you both know this isn't going to end with talking, but for now, you'll ignore the tension in the air between you. telling yourselves that you're good people, and would never dream of cheating on your partners.
the two of you sit for a while, discussing your tennis careers, how you got into the sport. flirty smirks and heavy eye contact filling the empty gaps, noticing the time and lack of bodies at the party, you stand, ready to say your goodbyes, but stopped by patrick. "we're at the same hotel, right? come have a nightcap with me." he offers, standing up with you, closing some distance. "that sounds like playing with fire." you half laugh, acknowledging the tension for the first time out loud tonight, only adding more excitement to the air. patrick raises his eyebrow to you, the corner of his lips turning upwards. breathing out, knowing there was no saying no to that damn smirk, you accept. patrick's hand pressed lightly to your back, leading you away from the party. it was only a short walk back to your hotel, his hand staying put against the fabric of your dress. both of you so aware this nightcap was nothing short of an excuse for more time together, specifically, time alone away from onlookers eyes. patrick's hand only dropping to his side to fish his hotel key from his pocket, showing you into his room. opening the mini fridge he pours you both a drink, sitting next to each other on the couch underneath the hotel room windows, his hand draped across the back, beside your shoulder.
facing each other slightly, the electricity in the air only becoming more obvious by the lack of space between your bodies. shoes kicked off feet beside the couch, holding the glass between your hands as patrick's eyes swallow yours. "stop looking at me like that." you laugh, feeling small under his gaze. "like what?" patrick questions, knowing exactly where this about to lead. what should be guilt filling his body is replaced by pure lust. bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes float over your body, only now realising how small your dress is on your body. collarbones fully exposed, the fabric hitching up your thigh due to how you're sat on the couch. "like a meal. you look like you wanna eat me." his breath hitches, eyes moving back up your body to your eyes. holding your gaze, he places his glass down the coffee table next to him. following his movements, you do the same, leaning in towards him. "well, maybe i do want to taste you." patrick admits, his body moving towards you, eyes growing darker as the admission leaves his lips. the slow, gradual movements you're making towards each other feel like miles you have to travel. every second of inching closer feels like hours. every thought leaves your brain as patrick's hands grasp your cheeks and pull your lips onto his. mouths open, tongues sliding over each other, desperate to discover every part of each other's mouths.
patrick kisses feel like you're finally being kissed properly, as though no one before him had ever known how. his lips are soft, tongue hard against yours. his hands moving to your waist, pulling your body onto his lap. straddling his hips as your arms wrap around his neck, hopelessly trying to taste more of him. moving your lips down his jaw, licking and sucking at his skin down to his neck. "my god, you're so hot." patrick mumbles, head falling back, eyes fluttering closed as you nibble at the skin below his earlobe. pushing your head back to face him, eyes locked on each other, breathing heavy as his lips push against yours again. his hips bucking up against you, the harsh fabric of his jeans rubbing against the lace of your underwear. "we shouldn't.." you start, words falling into his mouth, lips barely leaving each others. patrick knows exactly what you mean, knows you want to help your ego, feel like you at least tried to not fuck him. "hmm, i don't care," patrick mumbles, his hands caressing every inch of your curves as yours move to bunch in his curls. trying desperately to pull yourself off of him but your body not allowing it, you're sucked in. he's like a drug, one taste and you're hooked. pushing yourself backwards from his lips, half-lidded eyes looking down to him, his hands holding you in place as you part your lips and whisper. "i want you."
his hands hook under your thighs, lifting you up as if you weigh nothing, legs instinctively wrapping around his body as patrick walks you both over to the bed. dropping you down, standing over you at the end of the bed. propping yourself onto your elbows, looking up patrick through your lashes, watching him pull his t-shirt over his head. "take it off." patrick instructs, unbuttoning his jeans, pulling down his zipper, his body overcome with desire. lifting your dress up your body from the hem, shimmying the fabric up over your chest, slipping it over your head as it's flung off the bed. laid before him as his jeans drop to the floor, matching red lace underwear adorn your skin. patrick's mouth slightly agape, still stood before you, taking in every inch of you. readjusting the tent in his boxers as he smirks down to you. "you gonna stand there staring all night, patrick? or are you gonna actually fuck me?" patrick groans at your words, hearing you verbally admit what you want from him. crawling over your body, your knees bent squeezing him into place, his hands at either side of your head. grinding himself down against you, legs spread waiting for him. leaning his head down to yours, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down as your eyes roll back.
moving one of his hands to your chest, holding himself up with one arm as the other gropes your boobs. pulling them out from your bra as you push the straps down your arms. grabbing your waist as patrick flips the two of you over, sitting you up on his lap as he undoes your bra, letting it fall down your arms before throwing it in the direction of your dress. knees either side of his hips, grinding against him, the friction causing quiet noises from the both of you. patrick's mouth moving down to wrap around your nipple, hands caressing both of your boobs. manhandling your chest as his teeth graze the skin of your nipple, hissing at the sensation. shoulders pushing back as your head falls with them, patrick's lips attacking your neck as he continues squeezing your breasts. surprising patrick as your hands wrap around his wrists, pushing him down against the bed, his arms above his head. grinding your hips down against him quicker, patrick struggling below you, attempting to escape from your grip but failing. bucking his hips up against you, desperate for some friction on his aching cock. "hmm, getting needy?" you fake pout, patrick sucking his teeth in response. his cock twitching against you, so unfamiliar with the competition for dominance. feeling you start to rearrange your grip around his wrists, he slips from your grasp, throwing you onto your back once more. pushing his boxers down his legs, hands snaking between your bodies to pull your panties down too. reaching down to slip his fingers into you, as his other hand pins both your wrists above your head. smirking down to you as his digits push in and out of your cunt, his thumb circling your clit. your back arched as moans escape you, moving your wrists in attempt to loosen his grip, but failing as he pushes your arms further into the mattress. "stop struggling."
the both of you had never been so desperate for something in your lives. both never felt so overcome with lust and desire, bodies in need of each other. the tension building becoming unbearable, the room filling with heavy breathing and moans. slipping his fingers out from you, wrapping his hand around his member. freeing you from his grip as he lifts your leg onto his shoulder, lining himself up with your entrance. eyes staring into each others, keeping you there for a minute, his cock teasing you as the suspense builds between you. "patrick, fuckin-" you start, words cut off as his thick cock pushes all the way inside you. lifting your other leg onto his shoulder now, fingers digging into your thighs as he wastes no time pounding in and out of you. screams of pleasure from you met with a smirk on patrick's mouth. "you were saying?" patrick teases, his lips kissing down your ankle. holding back your moans through gritted teeth, the sheets balled in your fists, patrick's dick hitting your g-spot with every thrust. your ass lifted from the mattress as patrick's speed increases. fucking you deeper than you've ever felt, seeing a bulge on your stomach every time he thrusts into you. he's hitting places inside your walls you've never experienced, eyes in the back of your head as your moans mix together as one. skin slaps echoing in the room, fingers moving to grasp patrick's thighs, nails digging into the skin. biting your lip through a smirk as you look up to the brunette. "hit me."
"god, you're dirty." patrick mumbles through moans, the request making his cock twitch inside you. dropping your legs down from his shoulders, pounding into you harder as his open hand smacks against the skin of your cheek. the sound that escapes you is sinful, patrick's hand wrapping around your throat. "agai-" you start, cut off by another slap across your face. his body falling onto yours, your legs wrapping around his waist. his hand still around your throat, the other gripping the skin on your hip. teeth nibbling on your earlobe, every sound he makes falling into your ear. fingers scratching down the skin of his spine, sharp nails drawing blood from his back, only to be met by groans from patrick. "jesus christ, where have you been all my life?" he mumbles, thrusts getting sloppy. moving his hand from your hip to reach between your sweaty bodies to circle your clit. feeling you become undone underneath his body, legs jolting as your ankles tighten around him. his hand gripping your throat tighter as he feels you cum over his cock. circling you through your high before slipping his fingers from your skin. hands either side of your shoulders, pushing himself up as his hips slap against yours. "i'm on the pill," you start, struggling to speak through the sensations. "cum inside me, patrick, please."
his cock slaps against your g-spot once more as he paints your walls white, cursing his way through his orgasm. collapsing against you as his dick slips out from inside of you. the sweat from your bodies sticking the two of you together as you both come back down to earth, calming your breathing and dropping your legs down from around his body. peppering the side of your face in kisses before moving to the side of you on the bed. staring at the ceiling in silence for a few minutes as you both recover. breaking the silence once your breathing as returned to a normal pace. "we can't do that again." patrick scoffs, brown curls sticking to his skin. "we're doing that again as soon as physically possible." his head turning to look at you, following suit and looking into his half-lidded eyes. "that was the best sex of my life. i'm not giving that up anytime soon." patrick half laughs, making you giggle and shake your head. "you're gonna get me in so much trouble, zweig." patrick moves to bite down on your earlobe. "i think you're already in trouble."
you and patrick are playing most of the same tournaments on tour, meaning even if you wanted to avoid him and let the guilt wash over you, you couldn't. wanting to avoid him very quickly turns into falling into his bed every night you can. any idea of guilt or remorse is lost the second that smirk appears on his lips and the number of his room is text to you during the first day of the tournament. patrick fucks you like no other, both of you obsessed with the others touch. the others ability to turn each other on with just a look, just a thought. all patrick has to do is let his mind wander and all he can hear is 'hit me' and he's hard during practise. and that's the other issue, the lines are getting thinner. you've started helping each other with your games' during off days, playing practise matches together and hitting up bars after. what two months ago was a mindless fuck one night, has turned into hours of conversations and time spent together. lucky for you both, there hasn't been any major tournament's on the tour yet, ones that family and friends would request to attend. so you haven't had to worry about anyone you know noticing the amount of time you spend in each others pockets. other athlete's have of course noticed, but most are none the wiser or simply don't care. you're both becoming more needy for each other, more desperate for touch when you should resist. patrick making excuses, criticising your backhand to be able to jog across the court and touch the skin of your body to help your game. the addiction to each other growing stronger, harder to ignore and act like you're not doing anything wrong. it's easier to rationalise if it's said to be just sex, lying to yourself that you're lonely and horny on tour, needing someone to scratch the itch while your partner is far, far away from you. that would be easy, if it was just sex.
laying together, bodies tangled together as some old tv show plays from the screen in the hotel you're currently in. clothes spread across the floor, both naked as you lay together, patrick drawing circles on your shoulder, cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "you've improved a lot since the start of tour." patrick compliments, flicking the ash into the empty can on the nightstand. you have, every free minute you have you spend either on the courts or in patrick's bed. it's hard to be distracted by loneliness on tour if you're not lonely. "thanks, maybe it's because you're helping me." you half laugh, stealing the cigarette from him, inhaling and placing it back between his lips. patrick laughs lightly at your answer, he's gotten better too. he knows if there's free time you'll be on the courts, so naturally goes too. the stillness in the room is interrupted by your phone ringing, a picture of your boyfriend lighting the screen. "fuck." you mumble, escaping from patrick's grasp. rushing around the room, picking up a t-shirt from the floor and brushing down your hair. sitting in the corner of the room on an armchair, you answer the facetime call. "hey baby." you can see patrick roll his eyes as he puts the cigarette out in the can, slipping his boxers back onto his body. "yeah, final tomorrow, feeling good. how's home?" patrick watches you from the edge of the bed, seeing you bring your knees up to your chest, brushing against the fabric of his t-shirt you've slipped on. his eyes darken as he notices your exposed cunt, clearly not having had time to put your panties back on. his eyes grow dark, a devilish idea taking over his brain.
he can barely concentrate on what you're saying, not that he cares what lies you're telling your boyfriend, just curious. "i know, i wish you were here too." okay, that one slipped through. a quiet scoff leaves his lips. leaning down from the bed, falling onto all fours as patrick starts crawling across the floor over to you. your eyes darting to him and that signature smirk across his face, hiding any reaction from slipping through facetime. "yeah, us open in a couple weeks so i'll be able to see you then." you smile, trying to ignore patrick on his route to you. kneeling before you, his hands spreading your ankles, your elbows resting on your knees as you hold your phone. muting the call quickly and whispering down to patrick. "don't you dare." what was meant to deter him only spurs him on. unmuting the call before your boyfriend noticing, him still explaining his excitement for the tournament. legs spread open before patrick's face, his tongue licking a line up through your folds. gritting your teeth as you desperately attempt to focus on the call, trying to push patrick's head away, with no success. covering your reaction to patrick's mouth wrapping around your clit with a cough, breathing deeply through your nose. "yeah, i've already got your tickets all worked out, don't worry." your words come out stuttered, you can feel the smile from patrick against your cunt. licking and lapping you up, one hand grasping the hairs at his scalp.
a slight moan escapes you, trying to cover with another cough, met with questions from your boyfriend. "yeah, sorry, i'm fine, just a tickle in my throat." you lie as two of patrick's fingers insert themselves into you, breath hitching at the sensation. "so yeah, the driver will pick you up from the airport and i'll meet you at the hotel when you arrive." you attempt to continue conversation, the feeling in your stomach growing stronger as patrick's tongue draws shapes over your clit, wetness dripping down his chin. feeling his hot breath on your cunt, faint sounds of his fingers thrusting into you. "baby, i gotta go, got practise in half an hour, i'll call you tomorrow." you rush out your words, not letting him say bye before hanging up and throwing your phone down. head flinging back as loud moans leave you, both hands moving to patrick's curls now. "jesus, patrick, you're gonna kill me." you hear him laugh against you, the vibrations flowing through you as he does. he sloppily makes out with your wetness, finally letting the moans fall into the room, making his fingers move faster. his curls tickling your thighs as they clench around his head, bucking your hips up, grinding your clit against his nose. eyes rolling into the back of your head as your orgasm sends shock waves through your body, holding his head in place as you ride it out. loosening him from your grip as you stop seeing stars.
"patrick-" you start, his chin dripping in drool and sticky from your wetness, about to tell him off. "you fucking love it." he cuts you off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. shaking your head as patrick pushes onto the armchair you're sat on, moving your body onto his lap, his arm around your waist. "plus, it was very fucking hot." he mumbles as his lips crash onto yours, pulling you as close to his body as possible. "you're gonna get us caught one of these days." you regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth, you and patrick never discussed the idea of admitting what you were doing, not like he hadn't just gone down on you while on the phone to your boyfriend. but admitting you could get caught meant admitting one day it would have to stop, that you'd have to accept that it was wrong and immoral and totally against your values. that you were hurting people that you cared about for the sake of your own pleasure. "so fucking what?" patrick's response surprised you, his hand wrapping around your throat as he pulled your face back down onto his lips. you were scared of getting caught, petrified, you assumed patrick was too. you both cared deeply about your relationships despite the fact you were cheating, so patrick's answer threw you off guard slightly. pushing the thought to the back of your head as your body was lifted to the air and thrown against the bed, giggling as patrick pulled you to the edge of the bed, slipping off his boxers as he flips you onto your stomach. so fuck drunk from patrick's cock that you thought yeah, so what if you got caught, so fucking what?
things carry on the same way up to the us open, both you and patrick looking like strong contenders on your sides of the competition. both dreading the change in dynamic between you once partners arrive to support you during the two weeks of the tournament. sitting on the side of the courts, both breathless after the practise you'd done. "when does he arrive?" patrick asks, chugging down the most part of his water bottle. "three hours, you?" you return, sweat dropping from your skin. "four. we still have the hotel rooms we get assigned, you know?" patrick smirks to you, throwing a tennis ball back and forth in his hands. you were both planning on staying with your partners, in their hotels separate from the tournament. all players are put up in a hotel together during any stops on the tour, you and patrick had stayed there the night previous before both partners arrived today. "patrick, that really is playing with fire." packing away your things, standing up to collect stray tennis balls about the court as patrick begins to help. "we could just say we have commitments, press, practise, whatever." he shrugs, unwilling to accept he'll have to go two weeks without touching you. "we can still see each other, for lunch and things like that." you suggest, putting the balls into the crate, tidying it off to the side with your things. "not the same." he mumbles, sulking as he too puts his rackets back into their bag. "oh boohoo, we knew this would happen." slinging your bags onto shoulders, patrick grabbing the crate of balls and heading inside. "quickie before they arrive then?" you laugh as he follows you down the hall. "please?"
you'd become more open talking about partners, not experiences or what they were like, but in relation to your own relationship with patrick. you'd stopped pretending they didn't exist, more accepting of the fact you and patrick were sneaking around behind their backs. especially with knowing they'd be so close to each other, and to the two of you, aware of the fact you could cross paths with patrick's girlfriend or vice versa. after cleaning up in patrick's hotel room, patrick showering with you before you darted off to your partners hotel, meeting him in the lobby. swept up into affection and care by him, brushing off the idea of sex with an 'i'm tired'. the two of you catching up about your time apart while getting ready for the party held at the start of the tournament, being held at the players' hotel. introducing your partner to some of the female athletes you'd met and played against during the tour, sharing drinks and nibbling on the snacks brought around. his arm snaked around your waist as you mingled through the party, holding in the uncomfortable way his hands made you feel. standing around a table with him and a few other players and their families, spotting those familiar curls bouncing into the big hall. girl to his side, not touching her, her big eyes looking up to him as they entered. his eyes immediately finding yours as he can't hold back the smile forming on his lips.
walking towards you, drink in hand as the two of them slot into your group. stunned at his openness, swallowing down the frog in your throat as patrick says his hellos. "aren't you going to introduce me?" he taunts you, elbowing your side as he slots in next to you, his girlfriend to his left. extending his hand to your boyfriend, you calm yourself and introduce the two of them. "this is patrick zweig, he's been help-" you start to explain a reason for his need for introduction. "we've been helping each other, during the tour." you wish you could slap the smirk off of his face, your boyfriend none the wiser smiles and shakes his hand. "aren't you going to introduce me then, too?" you poke back, moving your head to look to his girlfriend, sweet smile disguising your true feelings. patrick introduces the two of you, further explaining your relationship, for reasons you wish he wouldn't. "yeah as i said, we've been helping each other a lot. she's made me a much better player." your fakeness dissipates, a true smile on your face at patrick's kindness. "me too." you return, the others in your group disbanding, leaving the four of you alone. "sounds like you've gotten close then." your oh so naive boyfriend smiles, arm still resting on the small of your back. "yeah, we definitely have." patrick smiles into his drink, throat bobbing as he finishes the drink. "if you'll excuse us, i owe this one a drink for thrashing me today." patrick smiles, leading you to the bar away from your partners', his hand replacing your boyfriends'.
"getting me alone already? you only saw me six hours ago." you laugh, met with a side eye from patrick as he leans onto the bar, ordering you both a drink. "i don't know how i'm gonna go two weeks like this." he admits. "did you have sex with him?" patrick leans down, whispering the question to you. you simply shake your head in response, receiving your drink from the bartender. "did you?" you find it harder to ask than you should. "nah, why would i when i have you?" patrick winks to you as he walks back over to your partners, guiding his girlfriend over to a table to sit. collecting yourself you walk back over to your boyfriend. "he seems nice." he starts. "did you give him that t-shirt?" he asks you, looking over to patrick, following his gaze you look to his outfit before turning back to your boyfriend, brows furrowed at the question. "you were wearing it on facetime the other week. you must shop at the same places!" he laughs, sipping his drink, turning away as the blush creeps up your cheeks, suddenly very grateful for your very naive boyfriend.
spending the night sharing secret glances at patrick, him doing the same every chance he gets. the night starting to draw to a close, witnessing patrick hug his girlfriend at the door. expecting them to leave, but only she does, patrick locking eyes with you from the exit. signalling his head upwards, towards the rooms upstairs in the hotel. shaking your head to him, lips upturned, patrick just nodding in response before darting off. hearing your phone ping from your purse, hiding the screen from your partner, who's too engaged in conversation to even notice.
patrick: come on, u know u want to ;)
that boy will be the death of you, you think. unable to go more than half a day without touching you, breathing deeply, thinking how you're going to go two weeks like this, hiding and risking getting caught for half an hour of each others time.
patrick: i need youuu
patrick's text chimes through again, rolling your eyes to the phone. interrupting your partner's conversation explaining you need to pack up the things you left in your room ready for press tomorrow, that you'll meet him back at his hotel later. "sure babe." his lips press against your cheek, a pinch of guilt under your skin, lying to his face like this. the remorse was a lot easier to ignore when he wasn't around. chewing the inside of your cheek as you enter the elevator up to patrick's floor, any idea of wrongdoing washing away as the tension builds up in your body. knocking lightly on his door, it opening within seconds of the sound. patrick's smile welcomes you in, pulling you into his arms the second the door is closed. "i missed you." he whispers into your skin, wet kisses placed all over your face. "you literally just saw me." you laugh into his frame, arms around his neck. "but i couldn't touch you." patrick pouts, wasting no time placing your lips against his. his big hands grabbing at your back, claiming the skin as his. walking your bodies to the edge of the bed, sitting together, lips not parting from each others for even a second. hands roaming each other, pulling and squeezing at fabric and skin. breathing each other in as your head feels light, getting your fix of your addiction.
"we don't have long, patrick." you mumble into his mouth, fiddling with the curls on his head. "that's okay, i just wanted to kiss you." you swear your heart stops beating for a second. he didn't even want sex, just a kiss from you. so needy for you that going half a day without a kiss would have been too much for him. you can feel the lines of the relationship thinning even more, trying to rationalise the cheating as just sex. it would be too wrong if you and patrick caught feelings for each other, it would cross the boundaries of culpability. you just liked spending time together, sleeping together, playing tennis together. there were no feelings involved, or at least admitted by either of you anyway. but hearing patrick tell you he orchestrated this current situation, sneaking away from your partners during a party, just to kiss you, made goosebumps form on your arms. melting into him further as his mouth swallowed yours. pulling away from his face, placing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "are you going soft on me, zweig?" you joke, arms still wrapped around each other. "oh sorry for wanting a kiss." he teases back, letting himself be slightly vulnerable with you. he would have been happy just sat holding your hand in this hotel room, anything to be close to you. patrick feels a specific calmness when in your company, a sensation that takes over him whenever you're close. he craves it, any time he's away from your skin.
patrick was more open with himself about his feelings in regards to your relationship, he knew that lines had already been crossed and there was no going back, for him anyway. he also knew you hadn't registered that idea yet, knew you were still refusing to accept that this was anything more than sex. you didn't act like that's all it was to you, but it's what helped you sleep at night. patrick often thought about breaking up with his girlfriend, he hadn't been with her too long before you anyway. patrick was more scared of the rejection he could face from you than breaking up with her. he knew if he were to leave her, it would be for you, and he couldn't handle the idea of you telling him no. telling him you wouldn't leave your boyfriend, for so now, he kept things the same, thinking he'd rather have you in some way than not at all. to you, ending your relationship wasn't an option, not yet anyway. you could handle being alone, waiting for patrick, but leaving your partner would make things messy. mean accepting the truth and having to admit to someone outside of you and patrick. it would mean accepting your wrongdoings and taking blame, making what you and patrick were doing wrong, and part of you could never view your relationship with patrick as wrong. he was like no other, made you feel like no other, and that feeling in your chest could never been told as wrong.
kissing patrick once more, near enough empty duffle bag hanging from your shoulder as you left the hotel with him, heading in separate directions to your partners hotels. your boyfriend in bed asleep by the time you enter, changing into an oversized t-shirt, patrick's of course, not that you noticed it was his. facing away from your partner, face buried into your phone, staying up late texting patrick all through the night.
patrick: can't sleep without u next to me anymore
your lip is constantly between your teeth, chewing at the softness, spinning your head around checking on your sleeping boyfriend periodically. you and patrick shared a bed most nights during tour, in either of your hotel rooms, falling asleep in each others arms, drifting off to the sound of calm breathing.
you: ur gonna have dark circles for press tomorrow, go to sleep!!
patrick holds back a chuckle, phone not leaving his head, his only way to feel close to you. knowing your on the other side of the screen, typing back to him as quick as he is you.
patrick: so are you, goodnight gorgeous
sending back your own goodnight message, finally locking your phone, tossing and turning your way to sleep.
getting dressed after breakfast with your boyfriend, white dress skort and matching tank slick to your skin, packing your bags before ubering to the venue. "i would have picked you up." you hear from patrick as you close the door to your uber, slinging your bags over your shoulders as he locks his car. "and that would have been really subtle, wouldn't it?" you laugh, leading you both into the venue. "that's why i made a point of telling our partners how well we get on, stupid." he teases you, jabbing his elbow into your side, met with an eye roll from you. "so we can still spend time together without any questions." you respond, realising patrick's reason for the introductions last night. "duh. i'll drive you back later." his words are more instructions than an offering, the two of you dropping off your things in the locker rooms. putting another layer of powder on your face, patrick leaving a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder. batting him away, grateful for the empty room. the two of you ready yourselves for press, walking over to the media rooms where multiple promotion screens are placed around the room. patrick is pulled into an interview, standing to the left of him as you await your turn. "you've definitely improved this season, patrick, why do you think that is? any new members to your team?" you hear patrick's interviewer ask him and you get mic'ed up by a member of the press. his gaze lands on you before quickly returning to the interviewer, camera blinking as he answers the question. "no new members no, i've been practising a lot with someone new though, it must be helping." patrick's arms folded on his chest, signature smirk down the camera as the interviewer pushes for more, hearing your name leave patrick's lips. "we've been playing in all the same tournaments, so we've been spending a lot of time together." this interviewers eyes move to you, hopeful to bring you into frame, getting a new scoop for his sports channel.
"come on," patrick states, pulling you over to his interview. cheeks slightly flushed as he does. "we had noticed your improvement too," the interviewer starts, stating your name before continuing. "is that also due to your time with patrick?" considering your answer carefully before responding. "yeah, patrick's been great, it's like having a second coach while we play." you laugh, a chuckle from patrick too. "i'm really grateful for sure." smiling over to patrick, holding his gaze for slightly too long before returning to the camera. "so i assume you're both rooting for each other during this tournament?" the interviewer continues, reshuffling his notes, the two of you nodding immediately. "definitely, i go to all of her matches that i can and she's always at mine." the interviewer asks a few more questions before thanking patrick and carrying on with your individual interview. wrapping up and returning the mic, you and patrick head for lunch in the players food hall. "i can't believe you." you laugh, stabbing your food onto your fork and bringing it to your mouth. patrick's ankle leaning against yours under the table. "what? he asked me a question so i told the truth, you are the reason i've improved." patrick mumbles through full mouth, shaking your head at him, his leg rubbing against yours. "you're making it so obvious though." you return, patrick shrugging as he sips on his gatorade. "can men and women not be friends?" he jokes. "so we're friends are we?"
patrick laughs as he cuts up his food. "you're my best friend, among other things." you so badly want to press, ask him for specifics, know how he views you and your relationship. but you don't, very aware of the amount of bodies around you, you drop the subject. finishing up your food, the two of you head back to the dressing room, readying yourselves to leave for the day. "i just wanna have a shower and get changed." you smile, pulling a towel and spare clothes from your bag, walking over to the private shower cubicle. placing your towel and clothes on the hook, undressing and slipping under the water. sighing as the warm water drips down your skin. washing the soap down the drain as you stand there still for a short while, before the handle of the cubicle moves and patrick closes the door behind you. "patrick, i swear." you laugh quietly, watching him remove his own clothes and place them on the hook. joining you under the water as his hands wrap around your waist. "what? i can leave if you really want." patrick mumbles into your neck as the water falls over you both. melting into his grip as you pull him down to your lips. reaching between you both to stroke his exposed cock, already hard at the sight of you. quiet groans fall into your mouth as you pump him between your bodies.
in one movement, patrick spins you round, your chest pushed against the cold tiles. hands up against the wall beside your head, ass pushed out towards him. patrick kicks your ankles open, hitting his dick against you before sliding in. his hand moving around you, wrapping around your mouth to hold in your moans. his free hand gripping your hip as he pounds into your cunt, your head falling back onto his shoulder. your bodies sliding together with ease from the warm water covering you both. "you're so fucking perfect, baby, my god." patrick mutters into your ear, not caring about the sound of his hips hitting against your ass as he slips in and out of you. peppering the side of your face and neck in wet kisses, lightly biting at the skin on your earlobe. the publicness and ability to get caught only spurring you both on, the band in your stomach being stretched further with every thrust of his cock inside your walls. "patrick, fuck- m'gonna cum." you mumble through his fingers. "show, don't tell." patrick instructs, hand slipping from your mouth to your throat. tightening his grip on the sides as he feels you clench around his cock. drawing blood from your bottom lip as you attempt to hold in the sounds forming in your throat. patrick's grip moving to your waist, holding you up as your body jolts around him. "good girl."
patrick pounds into you harder, pulling your ass backwards to meet him in the middle of every thrust. his short nails digging into the skin of your hips as he pushes into you once more, filling you up with his cum as his head falls onto your shoulder. holding himself inside of you as the two of you calm your breathing together. whining at the emptiness once he slips out of you, the water washing away any remaining proof of sex as patrick turns you around, holding you in his arms. "you've ruined sex for me forever, no one will ever compare." patrick laughs lightly to you, foreheads pressed against each other. "maybe you'll just have to keep having sex with me forever then." something you'd never say if you weren't coming down from your fuck high, a genuine smile forms on patrick's face at your words. "sounds good to me." turning off the shower as you both dry yourself on your towel, getting dressed and letting patrick leave the cubicle first, following after a few minutes later. the two of you grabbing your things and heading over to his car, starting the drive back to your hotel. "how's it going, with him?" patrick asks, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh. chewing the inside of your lip as you respond. "it's fine, he's clearly missed me as he's all over me," patrick sharply inhales at the idea of someone else touching your skin, kissing your lips, trying to downplay his reaction as he keeps driving. "but it's draining, very grateful for all the press and parties and practise to distract me." you continue, placing your hand over the top of his on your leg, wrapping your fingers around his. "what about you, with her?"
"luckily she knows a lot of people here, so she's got plans all the time that don't include me. but i just miss you most of the time." patrick squeezes your thigh. hiding your smile from him, hiding any form of admission of feelings slipping through. lifting his hand up to your lips, placing a soft kiss to his palm. leaning your face into his hand as he looks over to you during a red light. "i miss you too." your cheeks are flushed slightly, placing his hand back down on your thigh. "are we terrible people?" you laugh, readjusting to sit cross legged on the passenger seat, his hand still resting on your inner thigh. "maybe, but you know, you can't help how you feel." patrick states, looking to the road as he drives down the street. how you feel. the words linger in your mind, wanting to assume he means how he feels about sleeping with you, knowing neither of you can resist each other. but his words trigger something within you, you finally realise. sitting here in his car, caressing each others skin so carelessly, so naturally, you realise that have feelings for patrick. you like the way he smells after a tennis match, how he always has to be touching your skin, how he looks at you. your breathing increasing in pace, looking over to him as your mind keeps running. you love the way he says your name, how he always brings you a glass of water when you're thirsty, how he ties your shoelaces for you when they come undone. mouth slightly agape, wondering if he too feels the same.
the guilt washes over you when you leave patrick's car, arriving at your hotel. after two months of patrick and no remorse, it all hits you now. it was easier to ignore when it was just sex, but on one random car journey, it hits you like a ton of bricks. you've caught feelings for patrick zweig. heading to the hotel bar, ordering a drink and sitting alone on a table by the window, collecting your thoughts. fiddling with your lower lip, deep in thought, feeling the cut on your skin. shit. you drew blood holding in your noises in the shower, and now have to develop a lie to tell your boyfriend. shaking your head at yourself, truly now feeling like a terrible person. it's only now that you consider the fact that you'll of course have to break up with him. how could you possibly look at him the same knowing he'll never be patrick? he'll never make your heart skip a beat with just a smirk, never touch you like him, never make you feel like patrick does. the guilt almost consumes you, hoping the alcohol will numb some of the pain. snapping out of your obsessive thoughts to the sound of your phone pinging.
patrick: already can't wait to see u tomorrow
eyes fluttering closed, a sea of butterflies filling up your stomach at the words on your screen from patrick. how could you not see it? how could you not realise you were falling for him, knowing he was your first thought every morning and the last at every night.
you: me too baby <3
you text each other like lovers, as though if anyone could read your messages or see the way you are alone together, they'd assume you were deeply in love. finishing your drink, you start the dreaded walk up to your shared hotel room. unlocking the door, your boyfriend sat on the couch watching tv. seeing his teethy grin spread across his face as you walk into the room. more guilt. it's like your body is punishing you for all the days you didn't feel any remorse, you're feeling it all built up now. every inch of your body filled with the feeling. you're so angry at yourself, for one, letting it go this far with patrick without seeing the signs, but two, not accepting the fact that what you were doing was wrong. so wrong, so unforgivable, you were hurting someone so deeply and never even giving it a second thought. and the worst part about it was that you knew full well, you'd be all over patrick the second you got him alone tomorrow.
things stayed the same until the day before the quarter finals, both you and patrick advancing to that stage. seeing each other every chance you could before going home to your partners and acting like everything was fine. you had a day off before the quarter final, getting in some practise with your coach in the morning before spending the rest of the day off. entering your hotel room, showering and slipping into a hoodie and shorts. joining your boyfriend on the couch, turning off the tv and sitting to face him, him doing the same. "i need to talk to you about something." you knew it was time, your feelings had been eating you up. you'd barely been eating or sleeping, too focused on the guilt of the taste of patrick lingering on your mouth as you kissed your boyfriend goodnight. "okay." he smiles to you, still none the wiser. "i'm breaking up with you." you finally let out the words, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie, just about able to look him in the eyes. watching his body slump slowly, his eyes glossing over. "why?" he asks you, his words shaky but calm, not shouting or arguing, just wanting to know the reasons why. "i have feelings for someone else, it's nothing you did, it just happened. i'm so sorry." your bottom lip is between your teeth, so ashamed to be admitting the truth, but part of you grateful, the guilt finally dissipating. "who?" he returns, through gritted teeth. "are you sure you want to know?" you ask, hoping he wouldn't. he simply nods his head, feeling you owe him the answers to any of his questions, you tell him. he scoffs as he hears patrick's name fall from your lips. "god, i'm so naive. have you fucked him?" his sudden harshness takes you back, pulling your knees up to your chest, your eyes now glossing over, nodding your head. "wow." is all that comes back to you.
the two of you sit in silence for a short while, before he finally stands. "well, i'm sorry too, that i couldn't be what you wanted. does his girlfriend know?" he asks, pacing around the room. "i don't know, i don't think so." you respond, standing now too. "christ, how many people did you need to hurt?" his words cut you like a knife, immediately starting to pack up the things of yours in the room. "i'm gonna go, i'm so sorry, i never meant to hurt anyone." he half scoffs at your words, opening the door for you as you bunch your belongings under your arms, walking out the door. both of you saying final goodbyes and leaving each other for the last time. dragging all your bags into your uber, you rush to the hotel the players are assigned to. tears finally falling from your eyes once you enter the room. letting yourself feel every feeling you've held in for the past few weeks, losing yourself to emotion as they all come pouring out of you.
cleaning yourself up after a few hours, texting patrick and asking him to come to your hotel. he shows up half an hour later, knocking on your door. pulling him into the room, pulling his lips to yours as the two of you fall onto the bed. pulling himself from you as the two of you sit on the edge of the bed. "what's wrong? you look like you've been crying." he asks, placing a soft kiss to your temple. "i broke up with him." patrick's mouth falls open slightly in reaction. his mind running quicker than he can keep up with. not able to focus on one particular thought, he rushes out his words. "why did you do that?" he's harsher than he would have liked, not being able to focus hard enough to properly form sentences he would rather say. shocked you move slightly further away from his grip. "you, patrick. you're why." neither of you had ever admitted any feelings to each other, you'd barely admitted them to yourselves, let alone sharing them. but those words leaving your lips were all the admission patrick needed. he was very aware he felt the same, but he also knew that it would be too good to be true. patrick was prone to self-sabotage, he did it to protect himself from getting hurt in the long run. "i never asked you to do that." it's almost involuntary the harsh tone in which he's speaking, deep down he wants nothing more than to kiss you and run home to break off his own relationship to be with you. but his mind is singlehandedly running his ability to consider that an actual option in this scenario.
"i know you didn't." nearly matching his tone as you try to distract yourself from the tears welling up in your eyes. "i just thought.." trailing off as your words soften. "you thought what? that we'd dump our partners and run off into the sunset?" you can't believe the words coming from him, never has he been so harsh to you, so cold. "no i just, i thought you liked me." your eyes unable to look at him anymore, a single tear dropping onto the mattress from your eyes. "it's not that easy. this just complicates it even more. i never told you i'd break up with my girlfriend." patrick wishing he could stop himself, slap himself out of it and realise what he was doing. but he couldn't, couldn't pause and consider what he was pushing away. "why are you being like this?" you respond, words so quiet as you meet his gaze again. "we're just sleeping together, okay? was that not enough for you?" patrick standing up from the bed, his voice slightly raised. his words cutting through your skin like a knife, shaking your head slightly, unable to stop the tears now. "just leave patrick, please." your words shaky, lip quivering. "whatever." he leaves with a slam of the door. falling onto your back on the bed, crying out any remaining tears as your body curls up into a ball.
waking up to the sun rising the next morning, sadness turned to anger in the night spent alone. focusing all of your energy onto the match you were playing later today, jumping out of bed with a point to prove. soothing your puffy eyes and hiding your dark circles with light make-up. ubering to the venue and getting in a few hours with your hitting partner before readying yourself for your match. luckily avoiding patrick, who's match was happening at the same time as yours. sitting in your private dressing room, leg bouncing as you wait for the call to head to the court.
patrick: good luck champ
a text from patrick only spurs your anger more, ignoring the message and cracking your neck. the knock comes shortly after, slinging your racket bag over your shoulder as you walk down the hall. white dress with built in shorts standing opposite your opponent, bouncing side to side as the match starts. letting all of your anger out on the court, heavy grunts escaping you. your emotions fuelling your game as you win the first two sets, screaming out at your win. earning your place in the semi finals, asking your coach quickly about patrick's match. "third set is just starting, he won the first." rushing your way through your post match interview on the court, catching the end of patrick's match from the tunnel of the players entrance. arms folded, watching intently as you witness patrick fumble the final set. looking on as patrick's racket is smacked against the ground repeatedly, clearly frustrated with his loss. the racket is thrown across the court as he begrudgingly shakes the hand of his competitor. smirking from the sidelines as he picks up his bag, walking in your direction. slowing down slightly as he reaches you. he can tell you won just by the smug smile on your face as you stare him down. his big hands grabbing hold of your forearm as he drags you down the tunnel with him towards his dressing room.
struggling to free yourself from his grip as he slams the door behind you both. "what the fuck are you doing?" you shout, pushing him away from you once in the private space. the anger he felt on the court lifting as a devilish smirk spreads across his face. heavy hands cupping your face as his lips crash onto yours. hopelessly trying to push him off but not succeeding, your body desperate for your fix of him. your bodies fight against each other, pushing and pulling one another around the room, fighting for control. crashing into lockers and walls, tongues swirling around mouths. patrick pushing off all the items on the table in the corner, lifting you up to sit on the edge, pulling his tank over his head. grabbing the hem of your dress, attempting to pull it over your body but failing. "why can't i get this fucking thing off?" he struggles again, letting you slip it down yourself. "the shorts are built in." you half laugh at his frustration, fingers scratching down the skin of his arms. "stupid fucking thing." he laughs, lips attaching to yours again as he pushes his shorts and boxers down his legs. hooking his fingers around your underwear to pull them down, discarding them on the floor beneath you. pulling you further to the edge of the table as he pushes himself into you immediately, bottoming out. the table banging against the wall as he pounds into you, any anger left over working through his body to fuck you harder than he ever has.
bruising the skin on your hips as his hands dig in, slapping his crotch against yours. legs wrapping around his waist, ankles crossed behind his back. moans swallowed by each other in the sloppy kisses, foreheads pressed together as your nails scratch the length of his spine. "feel so fucking good baby." patrick mumbles into your neck, sucking on the skin. sweat dripping down your bodies, hair sticking to skin, his musk filling your nose. biting down on his shoulder as his hands slip underneath your ass, carrying you to the wall, your back pushed against it. your spine hitting against the cold wall with every thrust, his hands massaging the fat of your ass as he bucks his hips upwards into you at raw speed. his grasp on your skin pushing you up and down with his thrusts, bouncing on his cock as his tip hits your g-spot. the grip you have around his neck tightening as his thrusts grow sloppy, skin slapping echoing around the room as heavy groans fill the empty space. without warning his cum shoots into you, a drawn out groan leaving his lips as he pushes his weight onto you against the wall. slowly unwrapping your legs from his waist as he pulls out of you and places you on the floor. his body still weighing against you, his face nestled in your hair as you return to reality. throwing a towel down on the bench in the room, patrick sits and pulls you onto his lap. feeling his cock twitch as his hard on starts to calm, soft kisses placed on your face.
sitting there for a few minutes, before standing up to clean yourself up and get dressed. patrick following suit, cleaning up the table slightly. you're ready long before he is, waiting for him to slip his tank back onto his body. "don't you need to go find your girlfriend?" you tease, aiming to make him uncomfortable, seeking some revenge for his behaviour last night. you're expecting a laugh, a smirk, anything, but all he does is tense up. "don't talk about her." he whispers through gritted teeth. you're taken back, his words are harsh, protective, not like how he usually speaks. "i-i thought-" you start, rushing out words in attempt to understand. "i'm still with her." he spits out, the words hitting your chest as if he stabbed them into your skin. "i'm not breaking up with her, okay? you need to get that into your head." you've never heard patrick so harsh, so pointed. the thoughts are spinning around your mind, making you lightheaded. patrick was unable to stop himself, his self-sabotaging and attempts to protect himself from possible risk winning out. "if you want me, this is what you get. i'm not leaving her, not for you, not for anyone." your body is slumping, legs giving out on you as you fall onto the bench below you. all the words, all the affection, every glimpse of feeling patrick has ever showed you slowly slipping away as this unemotional version of him appears in his place. "it's second best, or nothing at all." his chest rising and falling as he looks to you.
patrick was different. he made you feel things no one ever had, made you feel electric. looking up to him through half-lidded eyes, breathing out sharply. both of you knowing you'd never be able to say no to him. you'd rather have him in some way than not at all. a single tear threatens to fall as you whisper.
"second best it is."
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rememberwren · 3 months
Text
A Dichotomy of Thought || 5
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts
Johnny recovers slowly.
-
Fifteen minutes? Simon messages you. A flare going up in the darkness, an SOS signal even if you don’t know the accuracy of the analogy. But he doesn’t hear back from you that day.  Maybe what little luck he had left that wasn’t bad luck has run out. Maybe you realized that you had no real reason to be guilty, that Soap had stepped out in front of your car on purpose. You didn’t owe them anything. 
Simon wishes he could swallow that flare back up, eat it whole, let it burn him alive, but he can’t. Johnny needs him. 
Ever since the seizure, it’s been one bad pain day after another. The seizure itself was rough on his body, but so was how hard Soap fought afterwards, dealing himself damage that he didn’t even have the processing yet to tally up. 
Like clockwork he’s requiring those little green pills, choking them down on empty stomachs. Simon even has to break out what’s left of the sublingual morphine which they hadn’t used since Johnny first came home from inpatient rehabilitation. Only then will Johnny manage to fall into fitful sleeps wracked with nightmares and phantom pains from his missing arm. He cancels all therapy that week, hoping Johnny will return to his baseline soon. Hoping for the days he used to wish away. 
It’s hell on earth. Simon lays in bed beside him, ready to wake him from another nightmare, going on three days without sleep and he wishes that he had been the one in the helicopter instead. Wishes that it had killed him, since he can’t ever wish death on Johnny. Not ever. Not even when his boy begs for it. 
His phone buzzes, and it’s you: I’m free in twenty. Still need me?
Badly. Simon can’t remember the last time he showered. All he wants is fifteen minutes to scrub himself clean and feel human again. All he says though is: Yeah.
You appear just past twenty minutes later wearing a diner uniform. It’s cute: tight pants that hug your thighs and hips, a white button-down blouse tucked in, demarcation where your name tag used to rest.
Simon opens the door and ushers you in, somber-faced, like a pallbearer at a funeral. He goes to the bedroom door and glances in to make sure Johnny is out—there should be no waking him for the next two hours, but if there is one thing Simon has learned, it’s that God Laughs. 
“He asleep?” you whisper, lingering a healthy distance away. 
“Out like a light. I just need fifteen minutes in the shower.”
“I’ll watch him,” you whisper. Then you add: “I looked it up, by the way. What a seizure looks like. Just in case.”
Simon’s stomach drops between his knees. It takes him several heartbeats to realize that he isn’t nauseous out of any fear response, but out of sheer fucking gratitude. The feeling cuts through the fog in his mind like a knife through butter, and he feels like he sees you for the first time: your hair back away from your face, your healing bruises (and the new one on your chin), the embarrassed desperation in your eyes. You’ve latched on to Johnny too, he can tell, likely by some misguided guilt from almost hitting him with your car. But it’s there. He has a feeling that if Johnny were to take a dive off the balcony, he��d be taking you with him. 
You are completely unhinged. Borderline mad, even. Exactly what Johnny needs to keep him alive. 
“Fifteen minutes,” says Simon again before slipping into the bathroom, clean clothes tucked under his arm. When he resurfaces, only 11 minutes have passed. The military taught him everything he could need to know about thorough but expeditious showers. 
You are sitting at the dining table, having chosen the seat that gives you the best vantage point of Johnny’s sleeping figure in the next room through the doorway. Simon expected to find you on your phone, scrolling away, but it is nowhere in sight. You have sat perfectly still, watching Johnny. It would almost be eerie if he didn’t appreciate it so goddamn much. 
“We need to talk about this arrangement,” you say, clasping your hands together. You’re shaking. 
“You want out.” 
“What? No!” You both glance toward the bedroom, but Johnny snores on, in the throes of morphine-fueled dreams. When you speak again, it is quieter: “I don’t mind helping, but I can only check my phone at certain times of the day.”
This is the part where Simon asks why. But the question sticks to the back of his tongue like something unsavory. A more important question: can he afford to care why beyond what it means for him and for Johnny? The bottom line is that there will be long stretches of time where you’re unavailable. He can live with that. He’s been living with it, hasn’t he? 
“I’ll only ever need you when he’s asleep. If he knew I was letting you watch over him, he’d blow his top. I mean that literally.” Simon stands. “You want tea?”
“Tea?” You blink at him like the word does not compute. “Yes, please. Thank you, I mean.” 
“Just tea, don’t get worked up over it,” he mutters, going to put the kettle on. He needs a minute to fucking think. 
This goes against everything he was ever taught. The foundation of his personality is self-reliance, and it has been since he was a boy, since he learned that he couldn’t rely on adults for anything resembling stability. Asking for help feels like tossing up the white flag, like admitting he’s in too deep and he can’t take it anymore. It feels like failing Johnny. 
But there’s construction going on inside him. Those pillars of his personality are being torn down, and in their place something more important is being formed: a shrine to the only person who’s ever loved him that wasn’t his mother. If it’s good for Johnny, Simon must do it, even if it feels strange, even if it goes against all the strategies that have kept him alive in the past. 
When he brings tea back to the table, you try to drink it right away, scalding your tongue. 
“Slow,” Simon says. He didn’t even get the chance to offer you any milk or sugar. 
Face warm as the tea, you drink slower, tongue likely numb. The silence between you grows, adds up, and he catches you more than once looking toward the digital clock inlaid on the stove, like you are nervous and counting down the moments until you can escape. Like Simon frightens you. Fifteen minutes pass and more. You drain your cup. 
“I should go,” you say at length.
“Alright.”
“Thank you for the tea.” 
“Don’t thank me.”
You just nod and slip out of the apartment, quietly shutting the door behind you. Simon sits there for a long time after you’re gone, thinking over the arrangement. Thinking over you. 
You’re in trouble. He just can’t decide if he can afford to take on any more trouble right now. 
His tea has cooled by the time Johnny stirs in the other room, calling out for more pills. 
-
It does get easier. Tooth and nail they fight for every peaceful moment until they are able to string two of those moments together, and then two becomes three. Johnny is back to his old self—often angry, still pained, but with glimmers of the man Simon used to know shining beneath it all like diamonds under dirt. 
Therapy starts again, and so do Johnny’s tasks. 
The tasks aren’t therapy. They’re Johnny’s idea: each few days he picks a task that he used to be able to do before the accident and commits himself to relearning it. 
Today that tasks is unlocking the front door. He stands with his forehead against the oak, knowing Simon is somewhere on the other side, having heard him turn the deadbolt. 
The door has three locks. There is the handle which is the only one the apartment building originally supplied them with. There is the sliding lock, which Simon had installed on day two in the new apartment. It is only ever locked at night when both of them are home, and it is easy enough for Johnny to guide the wide end into the slot. Then there is the deadbolt, also installed by Simon, and easily the trickiest lock of all. Usually it requires the strength of two hands to unlock comfortably—but Soap’s down a hand and short on patience. 
“Jesus, get me in this apartment. Amen,” he mutters.
The key shakes in his hand as he guides it to the lock. It takes some fumbling, but he gets it after just a few moments. Then he must twist while pulling outward at the same time. It uses muscles in his arms that have grown weak with disuse. The key catches for a moment but then slides out of the lock uselessly. He pulled too hard; he did not twist hard enough. 
It’s a delicate balance, one he had perfected without even trying months ago when they moved in. Now it seems like a cruel and unusual punishment. If he can’t get this fucking door open, he’ll sleep out here, undeserving of his own bed. In his mind, the voice of encouragement does not sound so much like the calm soothing tones of Andy—his physical rehabilitation therapist—but instead the borderline abusive dialect of his superiors during his time in the military, the ones who had only ever cared about results and not much about the bodies getting those results. 
Footsteps come from the open elevator, and Johnny casts an irritated glance only to see that it is you. You are dressed for exercise, clingy clothes with running shoes and a baggy top thrown on over everything, drooping off of one of your shoulders. At the sight of you, Johnny remembers the lengths you went to to help him light his cigarette and his heart throbs with fondness, some of his anger evaporating like fog burnt off by the morning sun. 
“Afternoon, lass.” 
“Hi, Johnny,” you murmur, voice near a whisper as you cast a glance toward your own door. Maybe you are thinking about running from him. “Are you having trouble?” 
Johnny’s good mood dissipates. “No,” he lies. “Yes. I don’t fucking know.” 
“Can I help?”
“No,” he snaps. “I have to do this myself.”
“Where’s Simon?” 
“Inside.” 
“He’s locked you out?”
“Aye.” 
Your face changes. He knows you so little that it takes a moment for him to identify the expression for what it is: apoplectic rage. Your hands have clenched into fists at your sides, brows drawn low over your eyes as you glare a hole through the door. You reach out and take Johnny’s hand. He’s so fucking surprised that he drops the damn key. 
“Johnny,” you say. “You can tell me. Are you in trouble?”
“What sort o’ trouble?” 
“Simon. Is he good to you?” 
“Bastard eats my cereal and leaves the empty box behind, but aye, he’s good to me. Better than good. What’s all this about, hen? Simon locking me out? I only asked him to, that’s all—let’s me practice with the key, so I can open it on my own again,” says Johnny, stroking his thumb along your knuckles. 
You let go of him like you’ve been burned, face mortified. “Oh, God. I’m sorry Johnny. I misunderstood. Let me just—”
You bend down and retrieve the key, handing it to him. You can barely look him in the eye as you mumble a goodbye and rush past him into your own apartment, shutting the door solidly behind you. 
Johnny stares after you for a long moment, key held limply in his hand, mind far from the door. At last, he puts the key back into the lock. 
Twist, pull. 
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suguru-getos · 1 year
Text
| Yandere Gojo Satoru x F!Reader | Axphyxiation |
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A/N: The yandere in me has risen from the dead. Read this at your own discretion, Satoru is a manipulative, dangerous, abusive asshole here. Mentions of guilt-tripping, dub-con (doesn’t happen but mentions), belittling, comforting, gentle-talking.
Normally, on a normal day, you’d have the right to be livid, to scream out and throw a tantrum over Satoru’s antics whenever you wanted. It would usually go unnoticed, even catered to if he’s feeling nice. Not today…
“Being a little too bratty are we, Princess?” There was a greyish hue of rage in his sky blues. All, because of you. He would make sure you realize it. You’d cower in fear of him in times like these, breaking down into choking sobs and mumbling apologies for pissing off the ‘Honored one’.
“I swear, I didn’t—” You tried to defend yourself, before the glass window behind you cracked, breaking into shatters as you flinched. A reminder to not piss off Gojo Satoru right now. Your heart raced at the situation you were in. Kneeling in front of him like a guilty prisoner, not daring to look up. Anxiety being the only thing hugging you right now.
“Why did you think it would be nice to ask for Megumi’s phone?” Satoru spoke… almost dazed, still controlling the immense rage that he felt. At times like these, you, a mere non-sorcerer feels a pang of pressure in the atmosphere. As if it was hard to exist, as if it was hard to breathe. It was Satoru’s cursed energy going haywire.
“I wan-wanted to ask for, something.” You were slowly getting broken by this. Yes, you had asked Megumi to give his phone to you, a pathetic attempt to contact your friends. You couldn’t risk contacting your family or Satoru’s rage would pave way in a direction you’d dread more. You just missed them… you aren’t delusional enough to think they had the chance to rescue you after all.
“Ask for what, hmm?” Satoru tilted your chin up, your eyes meeting his harsh, unforgiving ones. He looked dramatically betrayed at your antics, while a choked sigh escaped you. “Just- just missed my friends, Toru.” You had been carefully calibrating this reply. Squeeze his nickname in with the truth. There— that’d make him… less dramatic. Or, that’s what you prayed & hoped for.
“Just- missed my friends, Toru.” He mocked you, mimicking your tone and his hand rested onto your neck, slightly choking. A grim reminder of what he can do to you but chooses not to. Tears well up in your eyes as you looked at him, silently praying for this to end.
“Am I not enough?” His voice rose, almost tediously high. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Please- Satoru.”
“I asked you a question, cupcake.” He chided you, as if he is shutting a brat up who was hell bent on throwing a tantrum. “I asked you something and I need an answer.”
You had to be really, really careful with this one. You mumbled, hands shivery and jittery. There have been times he’s locked you up, just so you miss him. Maybe decided to use your cunt with his fingers just so you’d embarrass yourself cumming over and over and he could taunt you for being a needy slut for him. You didn’t want that… “You are important.”
Your answer squinted Satoru’s eyes, thin ice….
“You are, enough. You are a friend to me, too. S’ just that sometimes I wish to know how they’re doin’ that’s it.” You were internally panicking. Satoru didn’t do anything to you until now but it was the ‘what he could do’ that made you nervous. Satoru wasn’t delusional, he knew you were being calculating and didn’t want to piss him off. However, he was fine as long as you tried to be in his good books. He liked feeling important.
“I see, then should’a just asked Daddy, eh?” He quirked a brow, another question for you to duck.
You decided to accept your mistake like his ‘good little girl’ nodding and looking down, looking oh-so-cute with the guilt laced on your features. “Sorry, Daddy.”
Oh it warms his heart up when his Princess tries to be good for him. Tries to win his heart & suppress his rage. “My baby’s apologetic?” He cooed, kissing your forehead softly, while you nodded like a bobble-head; almost reflexively.
“I see, I see… what’s my baby gonna do to make it up to Daddy?” A smug grin plastered over his features. You were so naive he had you exactly where he wanted you to be. Expressions all knowing & dreading the impending doom, you looked up at him and bit your lip. The bile rising in your throat with anxiety.
“Whatever- whatever you want.” You wanted to make this easy on yourself. Better to have him throw words at you and comply. Satoru… was more twisted than that. “Nuh uh… gonna have to see what you would do on your own to make it up to me.”
You bit your lip, knowing exactly the answer he wanted. “Daddy can make love to me.” You uttered brilliantly, his eyes growing more tender. Satoru never, ever, forced himself on you. It was somehow, you, always begging, crying apologetically even— tormented in situations which hugged you like spiderwebs, with no escape wherein you’d do nothing more than to surrender. That’s what Gojo Satoru does…
“Oh really?” He almost scoffed, clicking his tongue. “Daddy’ll make you feel good after you committed a mistake?” He would also make it seem like everything he does is for your pleasure— there are days you believe it, there are days you dread it.
“Sorry.” A stray tear escaped you, it was as if you were being pulled apart with no defenses. “Please, I just— if you want I won’t cum.” Aww— his pathetic, little, dumb, princess.
“Perfect.” Now he has you where he wants.
“Then gonna be my pretty, precious lil cocksleeve yeah?” Satoru asked you once more, feigning the opportunity for you to say no. You nodded, almost gracefully in defeat.
“That’s my good girl.”
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featki · 4 months
Text
I'm sorry, baby !
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— pairing: 西村力 x reader — contains: Fighting, mean ki, angst — now playing: 一子青葉
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Sitting on your boyfriend's bedroom floor holding back tears wasn't entirely how you wanted to spend your Friday night.
This fight was stupid, you both knew it and yet it still happened. Granted of course couples fight, it's just what happens. But never has Riki yelled at you like that, over something that wasn't even your fault.
"Riki please, I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong."
"I get that, but I've already told you it doesn't matter. Why do you always have to be so damn clingy all the time." Anger laced his voice
"It does matter Niki. It matters when it's hurting you."
"Don't call me that damnit." Using his nickname struck a chord with him. He hated it when you used his nickname. It felt more intimate when you called him Riki or Ki. No one else did, everyone else called him Niki so using his real name and not his stage name felt so good, refreshing almost.
He left the room without saying any more, slamming the door harder than he wanted to.
And now you were left alone on his bedroom floor in his chrome hearts hoodie.
You knew he wasn't in the right headspace, he was tired and stressed. You knew that but you couldn't do anything about it until he talked to you, until he said asked you to help. Riki's never been super open about his feelings but you'd always get him to open up eventually. He's never held them back this much before.
Eventually, you decided to check on him. You wanted to follow him originally but thought he needed space so you left him alone.
You opened the door slowly, peeking your head out first. He was sitting on the couch with his legs up and his head in his hands, pressing up against his eyes, his brows were furrowed, almost as if he was crying. TV was so loud, he hadn't noticed the door opening so you continued. Slowly closing the door behind you, walking up to the corner where the hallway and living space meet.
"Ki?" Hoping the use of the sweet nickname would keep him from getting angry again.
He didn't answer but instead just looked up at you, eyes wet, cheeks pink, lips red and puffy. You were right, he was crying.
Crying wasn't something Riki did, the only times you saw him cry was when he was missing his family, or overly stressed, and you were the same. Tears just never came easy for you, it's something you've been ridiculed for. Being called "Cold" or "Emotionless" was something you became used to, but seeing Riki cry made tears well up in your eyes. You choked them back and went to sit next to him.
He didn't spare you a glance, still spacing off.
You felt so bad. A sinking feeling forms in your stomach. You contemplated just leaving but realistically that wouldn't help anything. Instead, you sat there, contemplating what you would say.
"I'm sorry Ki"
"Stop." He still sounded angry, your stomach churning as you frown slightly.
A short silence, then he follows up with "You have nothing to be sorry for." He felt so guilty. He knew it wasn't your fault he feels like shit, it wasn't your fault he was stressed and overworked but he still took it out on you.
"I made you upset though, I didn't mean to I swear" You sounded so defeated, almost like a child after getting scolded. His heart broke into a million pieces hearing you blame yourself for his outburst. "No no this isn't your fault. I promise it's not you" He finally looked at you. His usual blank gaze transformed into what looked like a puppy dog. His eyes were still wet and brows furrowed with worry and guilt.
You looked back at him with tears welling, he didn't understand how he could treat you, the love of his life, the way he did.
After the dreadful silence, you decided you'd just leave. You didn't want to but the pain of seeing him like this was too much, especially when you couldn't help him.
Riki grabbed your arm, with pleading eyes screaming for you not to go, whether he said it or not. "Where are you going?"
"I was gonna give you space."
He sits on the couch properly and hugs your waist. "Please don't go" His voice was wobbly and quiet "Ki..."
"Please, baby. I love you so much and I promise I'll show it properly." You start to run your hands through his hair, massaging the nape of his neck.
"And I'll make it up to you too. It wasn't" He choked on his words "It wasn't right for me to take my stress out on you. You're perfect and you're the only thing that makes me feel right. Please don't leave."
You've never seen him so needy, so clingy. He always clung to you but this is different. He sounded desperate for you. Like he'd die if you walked away "I'm not gonna leave Ki."
He gripped onto your waist tighter "But, I'm your girlfriend Ki. If you're hurting you can tell me... I know work is busy. I know they're overworking you but next just talk to me. Please baby, I love you, and seeing you like this sucks." You move one of your hands to his bicep and start rubbing circles with your thumb, his muscles were sore from dance practice.
"I care about you, and I don't want to fight with you. Especially over this."
"I know, I'll tell you next time. Okay? I'll tell you everything that's going on. I promise" He lifted the sweatshirt you were wearing a little, wearing nothing under, he kissed the side of your stomach.
"Thank you, baby."
He mumbles a small, sleepy "Of course..." while he's still kissing the side of your stomach.
"Let's go to sleep, baby." You say while slightly pushing his head away from your stomach "Mmm okay" He picks you up, burying his head in your neck as he walks to his room.
He lays you down on the bed, laying on top of you, cuddling into you like a little baby. He would never admit it but he loved it when you baby-ied him. Sure in front of the other members, he'd hate it but when you guys are alone and he gets to just be lovey and cheesy, it means so much to him.
"I love you, Ki, so much" When he didn't respond you lifted his hair up to see him just to realize he had already fallen asleep.
Whenever he cries he usually falls asleep in your arms within minutes so this was nothing new.
You kissed his head, while still playing with his hair. You fall asleep in his arms, and at the end of the night, you care for Riki so much and only want the best for him. Fights are going to happen. It's inevitable, but luckily for you, Riki always knew how to make things better, how to make you feel better, he loves you so much, and he'd do anything for you.
-
The next day after school you walk into the house after Riki walks you home just to see a huge container of Smiski blind boxes and flowers on the counter, with a note saying "I love you, baby :)"
You could never stay mad at him
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@ featki
Note: This was kinda rushed and not proofread... sorryyyy !! Been thinking ab this for awhile so wanted to write it. ALSO Niki kissing your stomach is NOT meant to be taken in a suggestive way at all. It's cute so don't take it weirdly.
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moonstruckme · 7 months
Note
Hey! I have a potentially odd request and I’m not sure if you write stuff like this anyway so if not please just disregard. I am in a strikingly similar situation Sirius with Regulus and for some reason this past week I’ve been feeling guilty as hell. Could you maybe do something where Remus and James are comforting Sirius like it’s okay, it’s not your fault, you had to leave, etc? Or maybe something with Remus James and Sirius comforting reader with the same idea but Sirius being especially emotional and like it’s okay, I get it, you can’t blame yourself etc? Thank you lovely <3 <3
Hi sweetheart! I wasn’t sure exactly which Siri+Reg situation you meant but my first thought was the one where Sirius left Reg alone in their parents’ home, so I hope that’s what you were intending. Thanks sm for requesting! It was a great excuse to listen to regina spektor’s two birds on repeat :’) 
cw: implied past abuse, older sibling guilt (also I am a wee bit drunk editing this so if it’s bad let’s blame it on that)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
“I know,” you croak, and you’re speaking quietly enough that Remus gathers you aren’t eager to be overheard, but you’ve made no move to go upstairs and have a truly private conversation. You lie on your back on the couch, one hand covering your eyes and the other holding your phone to your ear. “Yeah, I know how they are. No, it sucks, I just—” 
You press your lips together as the voice on the other end of the phone increases in volume. When it pauses, you hum. “Yeah, I get that. I think it’s a good idea. Just keep to yourself, if you can. It’ll be okay. I’ll try and—no, I know.” You swallow thickly. Remus’ heart heavies. 
He sneaks a look at your boyfriends, both pretending to be busy whilst they eavesdrop. Sirius, just on the other end of the couch, has ceased typing on his laptop and is scrolling aimlessly back and forth on the same page. Meanwhile, James is stirring a pot of water on the stove that’s barely simmering. They look about as tense as Remus feels, Sirius most of all. They all know who you’re talking to. They can gauge the subject. 
“I’m sorry.” Your voice dips, quiet and abashed. “I want to, I just—wait, don’t—” 
You let the phone drop onto the couch, releasing a sigh as you bring your other hand to your face. They hung up. 
There are a few seconds of fraught silence before James pipes up from the kitchen, “Everything alright, angel?” 
You hum in affirmation, but the sound is pitchy and broken. 
Sirius forgoes pretense. He closes his laptop, setting it aside. “What did they want?” 
You take in a deep, shuddering breath. It’s not enough; your voice cracks anyway. “For me to come home,” you say, the last word a sob. 
James switches the stove off, nearly jogging into the living room to be at your side. 
“I’m sorry, dove,” Remus says quietly. “I know it must be hard, but you did the right thing by leaving.” 
“I don’t think so,” you choke out. James makes a pained sound as he sits by your feet, between you and Sirius, and rubs his big hands up and down your calves consolingly. Remus sneaks a glance at Sirius, and his boyfriend has his jaw clamped tight, watching you with heartache in his pale eyes. 
“You did,” James says. “Sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” 
You shake your head, still hiding behind your hands. “I—I can’t—” You nearly lunge for James, who looks all too relieved to take you into his arms. He maneuvers you so you’re in his lap, sitting sideways with your face pressed against his collar. His palm covers the back of your head. 
“Shh, it’s okay,” he hushes you, tone fraught with a compassion so intense it sounds like it hurts. “It’s okay. Just cry it out if you need to.” 
You do. You cry until Remus is sure your head has to be pounding. You don’t try to breathe through it, don’t wipe your nose as it runs. Your tears come hot and fast and painfully quiet, like you learned how to hide them as soon as you learned how to cry. Sirius doesn’t tear his gaze from you as your shoulder’s shake and James’ shirt grows wet. When he swallows thickly, Remus reaches over from the armchair to take his hand. 
Once your tears start to slow, Sirius says, voice uncharacteristically quiet, “The best thing you can do is give them the advice you wish someone had given you.” His free hand twitches in his lap, and Remus realizes he’s keeping still on purpose, not messing with his hair or crossing his arms or doing any of the things that would give away how upset he is. “You can’t go back.” 
“I know,” you mumble into James’ shirt. 
“Do you?” Remus asks gently. “I understand if you want to, right now, but you just…you have to do what’s best for yourself.” 
A powerful sob shakes you, and James’ palm presses into your back with something akin to desperation. “I’m the big sister,” you say. “I’m supposed to be there for them.” 
“You didn’t ask for that.” Sirius’ words are inlaid with a quiet ardency. “It’s not—you can’t blame yourself.” 
You sniffle, pulling your face from James’ front to look at Sirius. There’s a rawness between you that hurts Remus to look at. “I know you know what it’s like,” you tell him, voice wavering on the edge of a whimper, “and I’m sorry. I just—” you take a ragged inhale “—didn’t think it would feel like this.” 
James looks like he is just barely restraining himself from tucking your head back into his shoulder, but he holds still as Sirius pulls his hand from Remus’ to reach for you, pushing a damp piece of hair away from your eye. 
“Baby, you don’t need to be sorry,” he promises. “I get it. It’s hard to feel okay about it at first, but you’ll…it gets easier.” 
You nod, and even though it’s obvious to all of them that you’re only being a good sport, Sirius offers you a small smile. 
“What made it easier?” you ask softly, swiping under your eyes. James coos and bushes your hands away gently, kissing your tears off for you. 
Sirius looks between Remus and James, then shrugs. “I don’t know. Drinking, maybe.” 
“Fuck off.” Remus sticks out a foot, pushing at Sirus’ thigh harshly. “Does she seem like she’s in the mood for jokes?”
But you laugh wetly, and they all grin for hearing it, James mushing a few quick kisses into the side of your head. 
“Gonna turn our sweet girl into an alcoholic,” he says against your skin. 
“Fine.” Sirius rolls his eyes extravagantly. “I don’t know, I guess you guys helped a bit too.” 
Before Sirius can react, James has an arm around his neck, tugging him close. “Oh, you,” James says, and Sirius makes a horrified squawking sound as his boyfriend presses a firm kiss to his temple, then yours. “Such a romantic. We helped a bit, huh?” 
Remus hums. “Ingrate.” 
“The point,” Sirius says, wrestling free of James’ grip, “is that it does get better.” He looks at you, features softening. “It’s not that it’s ever easy. But give it time.” 
“Got it.” You give him a small smile. Still wan, but more genuine than the last. “Thanks.” 
“Do whatever you need to to feel better, sweetheart,” Remus tells you, leaning forward until you meet his eye. “Just stay with us, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.” 
You lean into James’ side, the affection in your gaze all too heavy. “I could never.”
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americanwh0rerstory · 23 days
Text
Jack off [tate langdon] P.2
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Summery: whilst trying to get off for the umpteenth time that day, Y/N walks in and catches him
A/N: thanks for all the support on part 1, somebody suggested a part two but i cant remember who it is. but whoever it was, here you go :)
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content warnings: use of panties to get off, repeated use of Y/N, m!masturbation, guilt tripping, Dub-con, unprotected p in v, choking, cumming over tits, gentle aftercare
MDNI. SMUT BELOW THE CUT. CONSUMPTION IS YOUR CHOICE
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“shit” tate groans as he rubs your panties against his cock, the lacy material sliding up and down his shaft at lightning speed. he bucked into his hand as he sped up, his eyes fluttering shut when that familiar feeling of euphoria began to course through his veins. he was close.
“Y/N… oh fuck Y/N” he whimpered, speeding up his pace yet again. his breathing was laboured, coming out in shaky and ragged breaths in between the whines of pleasure that escaped from between his parted lips. he was so close, fucking your panties like there was no tomorrow, when he was interrupted.
“tate?” you say with confusion, seeing your ghostly companion sprawled onto your bed and fucking your panties like a god damn perv. your eyebrows knitted in confusion as you look over at him from the doorway,
he stayed silent when he saw you, the panties still wrapped around his cock but now not moving at all. he was just caught like a deer in headlights, staring at you with wide eyes as if he expected you to reprimand him.
“i-i’m sorry” he stammered hurriedly whilst trying to control his breathing. he quickly tucked himself away back into his jeans out of embarrassment, the last thing he wanted was for you to hate him. “do you hate me? are you mad? i’ll go if you want me too, i’ll never bother you again if that’s what you want”
you stare back at him, not knowing what to say. there was billions of words you could say yet none of them would come to mind. you felt guilty for walking in on him and making him feel like you hated him, you didn’t want him to think that you hated him because it was far from it. the guilt was sickening and only one thing came to mind. so with a gentle tone you uttered only 2 words that seemed right: “don’t go”
he looked up at you from the bed when he heard that, the tiniest glimmer of hope in his eyes. it was the hope that you didn’t hate him, the hope that maybe he gets to fuck you, the tiniest slither of hope for anything out of you.
“do you… wanna help me out?” he asked with hesitance, trying to mask his happiness over the fact that you was in no position to refuse. surely the guilt would make you accept, right?
“you won’t need to do much, im close already. just this quick one, please?” he begs, looking up at you through his lashes with a look of desperation written over his face. “it doesn’t matter that i’m a ghost, we can still fuck” he adds on the end
with a gentle nod of your head you gave him the sign he was looking for, and he wasted no time whatsoever. within seconds he was sliding his pants and boxers down to his ankles and standing at the foot of the bed. you took that as your cue to lay back so once you had stripped down to absolutely nothing, you lay down and looked up at tate for what he’s planning on doing next
he pumped into his hand a few times, working a bead of precum over his shaft as a small bit of lubricant. he did that before dragging his tip along your already soaked slit, teasing you a little before he did anything. it didn’t take long for him to push into your waiting hole, slowly sliding his length into you
“so much better than i thought” he murmurs with a satisfied groan, already getting pussy drunk before he had even began. he gave you few moments to adjust before he pushed you into a mating press and began to thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your own skin with every deep thrust tate made.
he used one hand to choke you whilst he thrusted, the lack of oxygen made you feel dizzy but also made it pleasurable, your head spinning whilst the only noises you could make were whines and moans of sheer pleasure. each thrust hit your g-spot, causing you to choke a little on the loud moan that attempted to escape your throat. his thrusts were lazy but deep and rough at the same time, each thrust bringing you more pleasure than you had ever felt.
the repeated hits of your g-spot made you begin to feel that knot in your stomach, that familiar feeling akin to a volcanic eruption in the sense that you too was going to burst at any given second. through the garbled moans, you managed to stammer out that you was close to cumming, looking up at tate with pleading doe eyes.
“cum f’ me” he moans out as he pumped faster into you, bringing himself closer and closer as he pounded into you. the entire bed was rocking and shaking but it didn’t deter him from the act, not in the slightest. when on the brink of orgasm, he pulled out and sprayed his load all over your perky breasts and hardened nipples. the sight of you covered in his seed caused him to smirk in between groans of pleasure. after so long yearning for you, he finally got you.
you too also came. your cunt clenched around nothing whilst your back arched and you saw stars. the knot in your stomach coming undone in one big messy orgasm. it left you shaking, breathless, and coated in tate’s cum.
Once the pair of you came down from your joint orgasms, he grabbed a warm towel and wiped you clean, an almost caring look in his eyes. when he finished that, he lay beside you and cuddled into your warm body; a stark contrast to his ghostly cold one.
“you was great, you did great. maybe later we can go do something else? once we’ve had time to relax of course” he mumbled against your neck, a gentle reassurance that he didn’t want you just for sex, he genuinely likes you.
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pretzel-box · 29 days
Note
you killed me with the last part of sunkissed 😭😭 i NEED a happy ending for it ill go insane!!!!!!!!
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Sequel to Sunkissed Collection. Final Part.
Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship [Marriage], more fluff, comfort, reunion, more fluff again.
Words: 1,2k
Authors Note: It was a close call between not posting another part anymore or satisfying the mass of readers.
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“It feels like… we’re not meant to be together,” Sebastian screamed suddenly into the hallway, his voice cracking under the heavy emotions he tried to conceal. All the words that didn't come out previously, were now spilling out of his mouth into the silence of the facility. “Not anymore.”
His breath hitched, his chest tightening at his own twisted words and his guilty mind ran wild with thoughts that screamed at him. His fluorescent eyes, usually so guarded, shimmered with the threat of unshed tears as he stared at you, a torrent of emotions storming behind them. For a moment, he was silent, lost in the tumult of his feelings. He doesn't know anymore at this point. He wished he could just run to you at full speed, tackle you from behind and start where you two left off. And at the same time, he knew it was unrealistic. You deserved your happiness, without his new life…
“And yet,” you continued his sentence, standing at the end of the hallway, the hand hovering above the door handle as if you had waited all along. Your voice was like a gentle balm in the heavy air, a strong contrast to him. While he was on the edge, you tried to be his lifeline, trying to save him from himself. “We aren't meant to part ways either.”
Sebastian's gaze met yours, and he felt his heart stir at the sight of your smile—the perfect, warm smile he cherished so deeply. The one that, in his darkest moments, always brought him hope. It was a sign that everything was okay. And if it wasn’t, then somehow, someday, it would be. Seeing it again after all those years, not in his broken memories, but right in front of his very eyes, made something in him flip. He thought you had already left.
“Oh, Sebastian,” you murmured, your voice carrying a tenderness that seemed to melt away the fear holding him back.
He flinched as you took a few gentle steps forward, your hand reaching out to him with such care, such deliberate grace, that he couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of surprise and longing. “Even if it seems impossible.” Your fingers hovered near his skin, tracing soft circles over his cheekbones, gliding into the dark waves of his raven locks. The touch was so familiar, so filled with unspoken love, that he felt his defenses crumble. “I would do anything.”
You were still here. You hadn’t left.
“Anything to give us one last chance, even when I know it's already over.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Sebastian raised his own trembling hand, placing it softly over yours. He was scared, terrified that this was just another cruel trick of his mind. But the moment his cold fingers touched yours, a spark ignited in his heart, warm and real, spreading through him like wildfire.
He felt a rush of emotion—a mixture of relief, hope, and an overwhelming love he’d buried deep within himself for so long. You were here. Truly here. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.
“I’ve missed you… so much.”
Sebastian’s breath hitched as the dam of his deep emotions finally broke. Tears began to fall freely, tracing the contours of his cheeks, and his body trembled with the force of his sobs. He could no longer hold back the pain, the guilt, the relief that flooded him all at once, that suffocated him from the very inside. It felt like a tidal wave crashing over him, threatening to pull him under.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m so sorry for everything… For what I’ve become, for the things I’ve done to survive… I—” His words were cut off by a sob that tore through his chest, his shoulders shaking as he buried his face in his hands, ashamed to meet your all loving eyes.
You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him with a loving care, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Sebastian,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with a quiet, unwavering love. “Look at me.” When he didn’t, refusing to disgust you further with his apperance, you gently lifted his chin with your hand, guiding his tear-filled gaze to meet yours. “I love you. No matter what you look like, no matter what you’ve done… I love you.”
He blinked, his three eyes wide and shimmering with fresh tears, his breath catching in his throat once more. “But… how can you?” he whispered, his voice breaking with the weight of his guilt and self-loathing. “After everything… how can you still love me?”
You smiled softly, a tender warmth in your mesmerizing eyes as you held his gaze. “Do you remember our wedding vows?” you asked, your thumb brushing away the tears on his cheek. “At the beach, with the waves crashing behind us? You promised me to be my home. And I made the same promise to you, Sebastian Solace.”
He nodded, barely able to speak, the memory flooding back—the salty breeze, the sound of the ocean, the way your eyes sparkled with happiness as you exchanged your vows. He remembered how you both laughed when the wind caught the veil, how you both spoke with such conviction, such hope for the future.
“Those vows… they weren’t just words,” you continued, your voice soft but firm. “They were a promise. A promise that I still keep, no matter what. I don’t care what you look like now or what you’ve done to survive. I care about you, the man I married, the man I still love with all my heart.”
A strangled cry escaped Sebastian’s lips, a mix of relief and heartbreak, and he collapsed against you, his arms wrapping around you tightly as if afraid you might vanish if he let go. “What belongs together will be together, Sebastian. No matter what comes before, between or after.” His face buried in the crook of your neck, his tears soaking your skin. “I… I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice muffled, full of anguish.
You stroked his dark hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to his temple like you did countless times before in the past. “Maybe,” you replied, your tone teasing yet full of love, “but you’re stuck with me anyway.”
He chuckled softly through his tears, a small, broken laugh, and for the first time in so long, he felt a flicker of hope. You were here, holding him, loving him despite everything. You hadn’t turned away, hadn’t abandoned him.
“You’ve always been stubborn,” he whispered, his voice trembling but softer now, filled with a kind of peace he hadn’t felt in years.
“And you love me for it,” you replied, a smile in your voice as you held him close, feeling the tension slowly leaving his body.
“I do,” he murmured, his grip on you tightening. “I love you so much.”
And as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt as if the world around you faded away. It was just the two of you, together again, bound by the love and promises you made on that beach so many years ago. And for the first time in a long time, Sebastian dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for happiness, since he was home once more.
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cross-crye · 2 months
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𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙
TW: some graphic descriptions of pain and just result of overblot violence?? idrk how else to phrase it
hurt/comfort
wc: 2.2k
first person pov; reader is yuu
vil schoenheit x reader; takes place after book 5
also on Ao3 -> read here
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"To be loved is to be changed" is a saying I heard rather often back in my world, but hadn't quite grasped the meaning of until recently.
I mean, just how can some half baked gestures of affection and an possibly faked fondness truly change a person?
Or at least that's what I used to think.
And all I have to thank for changing my mind is him.
――――
Initially, I couldn't have imagined how life could become any worse. Just how can you top being transported to another universe with no hope of finding a way home? The crushing feeling of despair that comes with the prospects of having to come to terms with such a predicament outright suffocates any figment of positivity you could hope to grasp.
Then the overblots started.
And that was so much worse than anything I could have imagined. I never knew what it was like to choke on the same air you breathe just because the blot in your immediate vicinity was so thick, that it had even started building a layer inside your lungs due to the continued inhalation. I never knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of magic so unrestrained and powerful that I felt its impact on the bones inside my body, even before they were finished breaking. And all I can wish for is to forget those feelings.
I wish I can forget the fear and desperation that controlled my body during Riddle's overblot. I wish I could've done something to actually help. While I couldn't have possibly been expected to be able to deal with the situation, sometimes I still felt guilty about it. First time (and supposedly only) I’d witnessed an overblot and all I could think of was how bad I had felt for riddle. While at the time I didn't quite like him much and we certainly weren't friends, and I had no obligation towards him, I couldn't help but feel guilty. I was complaining at having been a victim of an overblot but couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of pain he’d been in when that thing took over his bodily autonomy. Did he choke on his own blot? Did his bones break and shift as the blot expanded and changed his body? Did he still remember what he did while in that form controlled and erased his will?
After Riddle’s overblot I started to go to Coach Vargas outside of classes in order to learn some basic self defence tehniques.
Then the spelldrive tournament came round. And I went through the worst experience of my life a second time.
I wish I can forget the way in which I lost touch with my senses during Leona's overblot. Despite being more prepared to deal with it that time around I remained virtually useless. I could barely see through the thick cloud of swirling sand. Even though I desperately wish I could forget, I still remember how I could feel the rough sand scratching at the back of my neck as I spoke, hoping to talk Leona down that ledge. Again I had found myself feeling bad for the house warden. I wouldn't say I pitied him, as any student at NRC would be too prideful to do anything but take offence to such a claim, but rather that I felt dismay in his place. I once again felt haunted by questions I shouldn't have been asking myself. How did Leona live with the guilt of almost ending Ruggie's life? Did he even feel such a thing?
After Leona's overblot I started to spend my weekends learning first aid.
Then my idiot friends got wrapped up in Octavinelle's ‘deal with the devil’ sort of crap. And dragged me down with them.
I wish I could forget how suffocation feels. But I cant. Sometimes I wake up feeling like those tentacles are still wrapping around me and squeezing around my neck until my airway closes. Sometimes I still feel as if all it takes is the tiniest of pressure and my bones will break. Seems it didn’t matter to the Great Seven just how desperate I was to forget, I couldn't shake the feeling of drowning in somebody else's blot. Unsurprisingly, I had begun to feel bad for Azul as well. I could empathise with him, which made it all the worse as I could, for once, truly tell just how little I'd help him. The questions followed once again. Seems like my own thoughts would damn me if they could. Seeing as how I ended up almost drowning in his blot; Did Azul breathe through it? Did he, in all three of his (alleged) hearts not hold a shred of guilt for what he'd done to me? And to so many another? Did he know how many potions I had taken to fix my crushed rib cage? And if he did, why did he refuse to address it and pretend as if nothing happened?
After Azul's overblot, I found myself visiting the Octavinelle pool every so often, practising both my swimming and holding my breath. (The offer to access the pool undisturbed was an indirect bribe from Azul to buy my silence about the picture)
Then the winter break rolled around and I had thought I finally got a break. Only I was wrong.
I wish I could forget what it felt like to be stripped of my own free will. My stay in Scarabia was the most terrifying thing I had faced. Living where I had lived, I was terrified of loosing my freedom. It was the only thing money couldn't buy. So when I was controlled so easily and forced to act unlike myself and against my wishes I was stuck inside my own mind accompanied by a terror unlike anything I could've imagined. This was why Jamil was the one with whom I’d struggled the most to patch things up with and why he was the one it took the most time to be open to trust again. Despite all this I still felt bad for him. It was undoubted that life had dealt him a bad hand of cards that he sure wasn't going to win any poker games with. (Unless he's the smartest person at the table and fools everyone with a good bluff; But life isn't poker and the only way you win is by getting a good hand or cheating) I just had to wonder about him too. Did he feel any better when he overblotted? Did it finally grant him the freedom he craved? Could he remember the feeling of finally being the one to hold the power and call all the shots?
After Jamil's overblot I started to research magical artifacts. I worked diligently for months at Sam's shop to finally afford one that would prevent me from being controlled again.
Then the VDC was announced. My initial excitement was squashed like a bug by the fifth and hopefully final overblot.
For once I don't have anything I crave to erase from my memory. Its rather tragic if true, but after a certain ammount of overblots there are some things you just get used to. Which is why I might not outright wish for oblivion. The only question that remains is: Did I get used to the pain, or did I get used to the hopelessness of trying to forget it?
Upon further consideration, it might be that the reason as to why I didn't want to forget Vil's overblot was because of what it did to me. Unlike all my prior experiences, this overblot had actually resulted in a positive outcome albeit in an extremely roundabout way.
Throughout his time living at Ramshackle for VDC prep, Vil and I had formed an unlikely friendship. I would be delusional to claim that we were each other’s confidantes, but that didn't mean we had no concern for one another either. Vil had been a great help to me, and someone whose company I greatly enjoyed. I admired him beyond his looks, I found his drive, ambition and ideals to be inspiring. In the short time we'd gotten to know each other he'd quickly become a person I looked up to. And even if he wouldn't outright say it, I know he started to value my opinions.
In the beginning it was merely curiosity. I came from a different world after all. While at first his only interest in my views and beliefs was only fuelled by his own inquisitive desire my insight earned me his respect. He begun to show his appreciation for my contributions in the VDC prep his own way. What to others sounded like a judgemental comment, I knew was a nudge towards bettering myself. And that's how my now most valued relationship started.
What had really brought us together though, was, ironically enough, seeing each other at our most vulnerable.
――――
It was just another ordinary night. The VDC was still a week away and everybody was in high spirits. Except for me that is. It was supposed to be her birthday. My friend's. From back home. My real home, outside of twisted wonderland. Seeing the date in the calendar was only a grim reminder of the life I could never get back. I don't think I had ever missed home as much as I had in that night. The feeling of home sickness was too much to take. All I could do was pity myself and eventually resign to the hopelessness of it all.
Despite having held on to it for so long, my last remaining shred of hope had died that night. I foolishly thought that I could comfort myself, if even temporarily with a familiar sight. Rather than spend my restless night staring at the run down ceiling and slowly spiralling into an even more fragile mental state, I had decided to go outside on Ramshackle’s front porch and watch the stars. It had always used to calm me when I felt poorly back home.
Only when I went outside and really focused on the shining night sky, I couldn't recognise a single star.
It was that realisation that finally broke me. I was alone, and no matter what I’d do or how much I’d hope, home was something I wouldn’t have again. My reactions were outside of my control in that moment, and I felt my eyes start to water as I begun sobbing silently, all my desperation and depression manifesting itself unrestrained for the first time since I had come to Twisted Wonderland.
It was how Vil found me, tears streaming down my face and an overall wreck. He’d initially planned on scolding me for disregarding his rules, similarly to how he’d done with Ace, Deuce and Grim when they went for a midnight snack. Upon noticing the state I was in, that plan had been completely thrown out the window, as instead he’d talk to me and comfort me. Despite what others would think, his efforts were genuine, and while his words didn’t directly convey it, the fact that he’d been willing to stay outside with me a little longer (effectively sacrificing his own valuable time and strict sleeping schedule) before convincing me to return to my room to sleep and rest properly showed just as much.
I noticed that things had started to change after that night. He’d keep a slightly more attentive eye on me, taking an even more direct role in my well-being. While his newfound dedication was subtle, he set me on a path of pursuit of self-improvement.
In return, I had extended him the same curtsy. Following his overblot I’d offered to be a sort of shoulder to cry on. I had confessed to him to just what extent my admiration of him ran. And it ran deep. I’d told Vil how I thought his drive for improvement was inspirational, how his morals were commendable. I’d even followed it up with a sheepish joke about how it would probably serve me well to be at least a bit more like him.
Things started to work themselves out from there. Vil and I had begun to grow closer and spend more time together, eventually becoming romantically involved. Things had finally started to look up for me after all those months in this strange world. When I’d first come to NRC I had been haunted by those memories and feelings. I couldn't escape the doubt and the questions that always lingered in the back of my mind. But Vil had helped me with that. He’d helped me regain hope for my future, and while I still couldn’t find it in me to dream about returning home, I gave myself a chance to hope for a good, successful future free of torment. One where I could finally be truly happy again.
Many people didn’t understand this, but Vil wasn’t obsessed with people being beautiful, but rather with them being the best version of themselves. And despite it all, he was helping me do just that.
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cross-crye © 2024.
no reposting, stealing, copying, translating my works or feeding them to AI
reblogs, comments and likes are all highly appreciated
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equizona · 2 years
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⤷ ROMANTIC HEADCANONS
michael afton || five night's at freddy's
gender-neutral reader
masterlist, navigation
i'm having michael brainrot and I can't when write his name right and also the new tumblr update can go choke on some shoelaces
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⤷ MICHAEL AFTON
Michael is the type to get jealous easily. He's insecure, has abandonment issues, is making minimum wage and has a fuck ton of trauma attached to him. He knows he isn't the best boyfriend one could ask for, and that you probably deserve so much more, so seeing you with other people he just knows are better than him? It makes him want to crawl into a hole and cry.
Despite how easily he gets jealous, he doesn't show it very often. He refuses to guilt you into staying with him, or isolate you from having relationships outside of him. His father did that with his mother, and he got front row seats to see how well that turned out for them.
Michael doesn't make a lot of money, so he can't get you expensive gifts or take you out on fancy dates. Instead you both often go on walks, have picnics and watch movies at home. He'll save up for occasional amusement park, circus or whatever else you like for dates, though he tries to save those for special occasions.
He probably stays over at your place quite often. He doesn't like to be alone and he doesn't like the idea that he'll wake up tomorrow and get a call that someone broke in and killed you, or something like that. He stays over where you live often for that reason. He doesn't let you go to his place, either, since he knows the animatronics could easily figure out where he lives if they wanted.
He gets a lot of nightmares, too. He doesn't expect you to comfort him or anything, he knows he can be stressful and doesn't want your sleep being put aside for something as stupid as a bad dream. He doesn't really want you to do so, either, since he feels so guilty. The best thing you can do for him is let him cling to you, hug him back and go back to sleep.
He most certainly has an eating disorder. He forgets to eat and drink most of the time, and majority of the time when he doesn't forget he either thinks it's too much work or too expensive or just not worth the effort. However, if you bring him food or a drink, he'll make sure to consume all of it, no matter how nauseous it makes him. If he ends up vomiting, he might have a breakdown from guilt. Especially if you made it yourself.
On a less angst filled note, Michael is really good at making food. If you have ingredients and don't mind him messing around your kitchen, he will make the most heavenly tasting food you can imagine. Since he doesn't work during the day, he'll make you breakfast when he gets back, alongside lunch for whatever you have to do during the day.
He'll also make you dinner, with him making you m meals a good chunk of the time, it makes there be at least one less thing to stress you out. At least, that's what he's hoping for. If you give him the money, he'll go grocery shopping for you as well! He has all your preferred brands memorized too, so not to worry about that.
His parents didn't teach him very basics things about hygiene or cleaning, so while he isn't really a messy person, he doesn't know how most things work and decides to just leave things where they are. If you teach him to do the dishes, use the laundry machine or a vacuum, and assure him you won't get mad if he does something wrong, he might try doing some of your chores for you.
If he does it right and it makes you happy when he does it, he'll keep doing it. It makes him pretty happy, actually, to be doing it. He remembers his classmates whining about having to do chores with their mothers while he spent most of his day worried he's get yelled at for moving a glass over to the sink from the counter. Most might think it's boring to clean, but he thinks it's nice. And if it makes you happy, and makes your life easier? He's pretty ecstatic to be doing the dishes.
Michael naturally runs really hot. He could be your personal heater easily, and he's very comfortable and warm to hug. Despite how warm he is, he gets cold super easily, so he's always dressing warm and laying under blankets, which just makes Jim run even warmer.
He has a soft spot for children. If he builds a more stable life and routine with you, he'll probably try doing babysitting during the day for some extra money. He's actually really good with kids, too, even if he might seem sort of intimidating at first. He's also able to make all of them eat their vegetables and fruits, so parents adore him as well.
He is weak for matching things. Matching outfits? Keychains? Bracelets? Phone cases? Mugs? Blankets? Shoes? He doesn't care, he just loves the idea of matching with you.
He likes doing arts & crafts. Sometimes the kids make him do it with them too, and he's pretty good! He occasionally gives you those handmade bead bracelets. If he sees you wearing them he'll probably cling to you for the rest of the day.
Michael is actually like, really good at singing. He'll sing when he cleans, when he's doing his night shifts, when he's cooking or baking. If you like his singing, he might sing you a lullaby to help you sleep. If you sing with him he will be the happiest person on earth.
He likes a lot of things that are less traditionally masculine and more traditionally feminine, like flowers and soft things. (Blankets, stuffed animals, etc.) If you get him flowers, he'll press or dry them so he can keep them for much longer.
He's not much of a fan of animals, and animals don't like him that much. The exception being foxes, since he thinks they're very pretty. If you have any pets, he'd be happy to help you takecare of them, but he won't have a very deep emotional connection with the animal.
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webslingingslasher · 10 months
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i was thinking about how boyfriend!frat peter would swing his way back to trouble and like thinking if she needs something or what she was doing all the time he was on patrol like
"has she seen the episode we didn't get to finish?"
"nah, she wouldn't... right?"
"i hope she forgot bout it"
"i think she ran out of toilet paper"
"gonna be so mad if she saw that episode without me"
kinda messy in a peter way but he likes to find himself thinking about her after being spiderman because sets him down to earth again <3
the second peter had his hand on your window, your laptop slammed shut. you were sitting a little too straight up, your hands in plain sight.
'were you watching porn?' you sputter, the idea making your chest feel warm. 'no! i was just looking at stuff.' peter's eyebrow quirks, 'porn stuff?'
'no!' your eyes flash around the room, it's a guilty look. 'oh, c'mon, it can't be that bad. what kind of stuff are you into?' peter swears he's joking, but when he playfully reaches for your computer you flatten yourself on top of it.
'holy shit, it really is porn.'
'it's not porn! it's... it's... for you. yeah, it's for you and it's a surprise!' your boyfriend blinks, 'you have to believe the lie to sell it, trouble.'
you couldn't be caught, peter would never forgive you.
'you got me at a bad time, you were supposed to call me on your way over.'
'did you miss me that bad? you had to pregame my arrival?' you huff, sitting up and fixing your hair, you don't realize how close your boyfriend got.
'i wasn't doing that!'
'you were about to.'
'no!'
peter's having way too much fun, 'then what were you doing?'
'i already told you, nothing!'
peter's quick, he grabs your laptop but not before you catch the other side. a gentle game of tug and war. 'i'm gonna look.' you tug, it's useless, peter could rip it from your grasp in a second.
'no! not allowed!'
'then tell me what you're hiding.'
'no!' you screech louder when he takes total ownership of the machine. guilt washes over you, you've been caught red handed. the only solution was looking at your knees.
your boyfriend gasps in horror at the screen, it sounds like how you knew he'd feel about it.
'i'm sorry, peter. you were never supposed to find out.'
'how could you do this to me? to us?'
you can't even make eye contact. 'i know, i'm sorry.'
it's like it chokes him to say, 'how long has this been going on?' you look up at him, if you plead he may accept your apology.
'not long, i promise! it was just today.... and maybe last week. but i swear i'll never do it again.'
'this hurts, trouble. this really hurts me.'
sure, maybe you did betray his trust a little. but he's the one that got you hooked in the first place, he can't push all the blame on you.
'but you've already seen it! and i really wanted to see the next episode and you weren't here and i figured it would be okay... but that was four episodes ago.'
'fine. but you need to keep me updated, because the only reason i'm rewatching it is so i can experience it with you.'
a subtle confession, something you weren't supposed to take to heart, but you did. the whole reason peter got you watching was so he could relive all his favorite parts, but with you.
you pout, peter pushes your computer back in your hands and points at your bottom lip. 'no. you dug your grave, you don't get to be sad that i'm sad.'
'but i'm really sorry.'
'sorry you got caught.'
'no! i'll never watch it without you, i promise.' except you were in the middle of a very juicy scene and you're itching to press play. peter can read you like a book.
'you wanna do it right now, don't you?'
'no.' ..... 'yes.' ..... 'but i won't.'
'god gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.'
peter doesn't understand the restraint you're showing. 'you stink, go take a shower.'
'promise you won't keep watching?'
it's hard, but you can do it for him.
'promise.' 
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pacifymebby · 1 year
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Hello❤️ if your requests were still open I was wondering if you'd do peaky blinders headcannons for some of the blinders (it doesn't have to be all if you don't want to do them all) but for them and a female reader who they get put into an arranged marriage with and after they get married they find out she already has a baby or young child? You totally don't have to do it if you don't want to or aren't comfortable with it!! I blame the idea on my current baby fever 😂😂 You're amazing and I hope you're doing well❤️❤️
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Tommy
🌿 Going to be surprised but quietly impressed you kept it from him so well. He did his research into you and nothing about a baby came up.
🌿He will however be angry with you and your family because you weren't honest with him. He won't confrobt you immediately however you will notice the change in his mood. How cold and harsh he is to you. You don't know it but every time he shoots you one of those icy unforgiving stares, he's contemplating going to war with your family over it.
🌿At first he believes you have betrayed him, he sees it as your family trying to insult his family.
🌿Won't feel sorry for you despite knowing you didn't want to be married to him. You had the opportunity to be honest with him and for whatever reasons you lied to him too.
🌿However, there's no screaming or shouting, he doesn't threaten you. Honestly every time he looks at you he thinks he could hit you, thinks he could kill you and each deceitful bastard family member you have. The only reason he doesn't is because he doesn't want to act without knowing the truth.
🌿He's angry because someones tricked him, it doesn't matter that its you, doesn't matter the lie, he's just angry someone managed to trick him and every time he looks at you he feels that nauseating rage build inside him... And its because of this he can't confront you. He can't risk being deceived again...
🌿So he has to bide his time, the whole time treating you so cold and unforgiving. He hardly says a word to you, won't stop fixing you with that hateful glare... You feel so alone in that big house and you cry yourself to sleep every night. Tommy watches as you pale and thin and he doesn't feel a shred of guilt because until he learns the truth about you he believes that this is the bed you've made for yourself. That you deserve misery.
🌿But then he does learn the truth. He fibds out exactly why you have that baby, what happened to you, why your family were so keen to sell you down the river and marry you off to any old birmingham criminal they could.
🌿Suddenly he feels terribly guilty, he feels like a fucking fool and suddenly all that anger directed at you will be turned in on himself. He's made a fucking horrible mess of your life and he has things he needs to fix, but the first thing he does is call you into his office...
🌿You're terrified, literally trembling as you stand opposite him barely able to look him in the eyes. You worked out weeks ago that he must know about the child and now you're terrified of what he's going to say to you. You know he isnt affraid of killing, for a moment you're terrified he's hurt your baby...
🌿Before he's even said a word you've crumbled, your sob catching in your throat and then bursting from your chest untameable. He feels his heart break to look at you, you're distraught and in part he knows its his fault for being such a cruel bastard.
🌿 He stands up, let out a small sigh and approaches you carefully. When he touches you you flinch and cry harder and it breaks his heart.
🌿 With his hands on your shoulders trying to guide you into a hug he will apologise to you, "S'alright love, I know what happened yeah, know what they've done to you angel, you're safe now and always will be... Know about your baby too but don't..."
🌿"I'm sorry Tommy, don't hurt her please! I'm so fuckin sorry I... I..." you try your best but you just choke on your apology and can't get the words out. You're trembling in his arms when he finally pulls you in against his chest.
🌿"Hush y/n, shh, it's alright now, alls forgiven, you don't need to say anythin now yeah, alls forgiven..."
🌿He will apologise to you there and then, holding you so tenderly, his arms around you, his thumb stroking your shoulder, his chin resting in your hair as he rocks and calms you carefully.
🌿"S'alright angel, s'alright, no ones hurting your little girl I promise... I understand that we lie sometimes eh? We do bad things to protect ourselves and the ones we love, so I understand why you lied to me alright, I do..."
🌿 "All is forgiven now and I'm gonna bring your little one home yeah, gonna bring her home to her mam and dad but I ask one thing of you yeah, just this one thing angel, you an me we're married now, husband and wife, and we may not have married for love but we made those vows before god and so we must keep them, to have an to hold, for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish... Now I promised you those things and I intend to keep my promise... All I ask of you is that you be honest with me now yeah? No more lies, only truth..."
🌿He'll tell you that he wants to help you, wants to help you get your little girl back, wants to help you get revenge on all the people who have wronged you. He'll offer to make sure you never have to see your father who split you and the baby up, sold you off to an evil man.
🌿 "There there y/n, it's all alright now, I know you're a good girl, know you didn't want any of this, an I bet you've been so scared all this time eh? Terrified of everythin thats happened, no one to talk to about it... Terrified of me too?" he'll be stroking his fingers through your hair, holding you so delicately that its impossible for you to remember why you were ever scared of him. "Well you ain't gonna be scared anymore sweetheart... I promise, you ain't ever gonna be scared no more."
🌿He really will keep his promise, the Shelbys are a family of misfits and he'll welcome you and the child into the heart of the family. He'll raise your little girl as his own, and will probably insist upon lying to the child so that she doesn't have to know the true evils of her real father... Not that Tommy thinks hes any less bad really.
🌿He spoils your little girl rotten too, she's a real daddy's girl. He knows the darkness she was born of and into and wants to give her everything all little girls deserve, a good life with no rain. He also probably remembers little Ruby and views your daughter as the second chance he never thought he'd get.
🌿And though you may have been scared of him to begin with, the care, generosity and devotion he shows you leave you weak at the knees and almost dependent on him. You think the sun shines out of him and see him as your only hope in a dark world, the man who offered you kindness and forgiveness when you needed it the most. He picked you up off your feet when you were vulnerable and held you like a little bird with a broken wing. You won't hear a bad word said against him.
🌿You definitely do grow to love him and I believe he grows to love you too, what starts as him trying to do the right thing becomes this mutual respect and admiration, becomes adoration the more he gets to know you, how sweet and kind and good you are. He probably also appreciates your intelligence and understanding which you gained from having such a dark start in life.
Alfie
🐻 Isn't against arranged marriages when it comes to keeping Jewish women safe with Jewish men... Especially when there are so many predatory Shelby esque cunts out there who would take advantage of the young and naive. However, Alfie is against arranged marriages when its "marrying your terrified young daughter off to a mean old man to make peace with a rival gang..." which is what this is...
🐻 So he doesn't want to marry you and honestly doesnt have much respect for your parents who he thinks essentially traded you in for a few quid.
🐻 When your father had come to him, offering his daughter as a bride to clear his debts, Alfie really had considered shooting the cunts head clean off. The only reason he hadn't was the thought of you...
🐻 He'd seen you around Camden Town a few times, you worked in the bakery he often walked by and from what he remembered you were far too young for your father to be offering you up like that. You were practically still a child...
🐻 And that's why he accepted the offer. Because he knew that if he didn't you'd end up getting roped into all kinds of awful things by your shameless fuck of a father... There were other, less respectable ways a man could sell his daughter to clear his debts and he could tell just by having looked at you that those things would kill you.
🐻 On the day before your wedding, the first day he gets to speak to you he gives you this little speech. He comes to see you before you are married, which is bad luck in all cultures but apparently a wide soread myth among Jewish communities, which is exactly what he tells you when you try to hide yourself away from him.
🐻 "Now trust me zieskiet, see these," he'd tap his eye glasses and push them slightly down his nose as he looks at you seriously, "I only wear em when I need to read somet very carefully, and before I came to see you today I tripple checked right because I wouldn't want to do anything to give you anymore rotten luck eh, think you've had quite enough if that eh, can't get much worse than this here deal you've already been dealt can it? Now... Its a technicality perhaps but, it ain't mentioned anywhere in Talmudic literature yeah, neither any medieval writings what I could find either yeah... Its what you'd call a myth zieskiet... And that poppet, is very lucky because I've got a few things I'd like to say to you now yeah, just a few important things alright?"
🐻 He'd pull out a chair and gesture for you to sit down, this is Alfie we're talking about, even he knows he isn't going to be quick about this.
🐻 But he talks really gently to you, very seriously, but very gently.
🐻 "Right then, yeah, a few things I need to say to you now the night before our wedding day, our wedding day which is tomorrow yeah..."
🐻 "I know you're scared of me, don't blame you to be honest, I'd be scared, no, fucking terrified if someone told me I had to marry this mean old man yeah... Cause its true ain't it, I am mean, and I am old yeah, but I ain't ever gonna be mean to you,"
🐻 "Actually darlin whats gonna happen is this yeah, tomorrow when we have our nissu'in right, and then every day and night after that for the rest of our shared life together, I'm gonna look after you yeah, gonna take good care of you an thats a promise right?" the whole time hes talking you're just looking back at him speechless, a little confused and very very uncertain because you've heard so many terrying things about this man, that he's insane, that he's ruthless... And lets face it he isn't exactly coming off sane right now...
🐻 "This here right now yeah, this is me Alfie Solomons promising you y/n l/n that I'm gonna take proper care of you yeah, I ain't gonna hurt you, ain't gonna be cruel alright, won't force you to do anything you don't want to do... I don't expect you to fall in love with this ugly mug of mine yeah, I ain't gonna force you..." he looks right into your eyes then, holding both your hands in his, so serious that you have to trust him. You can see he isn't lying but it only makes you more nervous because you knew he wouldn't be promising you these things if he knew about the terrible deception your family were tryibg to pull off behind his back.
🐻 You feel so guilty then, you hadn't at first because you'd believed him to be just as bad as your father and brothers who were forcing you into this situation. The ones who had taken your child from you and threatened you with her life if you dared tell a soul.
🐻 But this man is so different from all the stories you'd heard, he's being so kind to you. The first man who has been kind to you for quite awhile. And you're still so naive, you want to trust him so badly, you want to believe you really don't need to be scared...
🐻 When Alfie sees the tears escape your eyes he doesnt understand, he thinks he's done something wrong and he panics and drops to his knees holding your hands and looking up at you, desperate to sooth you, he can't believe he's gone and made it worse.
🐻 "What's the matter poppet, what have I said?" but you just shake your head and try to hide your face in your hands scared to tell him the truth, your voice shaking when the words leave your lips. "Theres... Theres a child... A baby..." for a moment he thinks you're telling him you really are only a child and he launches into another speech about how its alright, he's only marrying you to save you from being married off to someone else...
🐻 "Zieskiet, stop crying little one, stop now eh, shh, I just told you didn't I, my only intention is to look after you, so you're only a littlen right you can stay a littlen I ain't gonna force you to be a woman yeah, I'm gonna..." "No!" you sob then, shaking and completely distraught and panicked then because he doesn't understand and he's not listening, "I'm not a child Mr Solomons, I have a child! I've a baby girl and... And... Oh god they're going to kill us both if I tell anyone and now I've told you, they're... My poor girl..." you cry into your hands, Alfie just watching you completely dumbfounded.
🐻 If he thought he lacked respect for your father before he has none left now. Now he really does wish he'd blown the cunts head off...
🐻 He sighs, takes your hands from your eyes and holds them in his, stroking your palms with his thumbs as he speaks.
🐻 "Now see, none of what you've just said yeah, none of that changes anythin of what I've just said... Everything I promised you just now yeah, all of that still stands, seems to me little zieskiet that you are a very scared, very sad little girl yeah, you and your baby need someone to take care of you both alright, someone who will keep you both safe and sound right and that someone yeah, that someones me..."
🐻 He can't hide the disgust at finding out you're a mother, you're so young... how the fuck have you got a child... He has his suspicions however and vows that after the wedding, when he has both you and your little one safe and sound, he'll pay your father another visit... Find out the truth once and for all, set a few things straight, get a little revenge.
🐻 He'll be so gentle with you, will take the baby in and let everyone believe it's his. He will take such good care of both of you. He probably won't even ask many questions of you if he gets the impression that you don't want to talk about what you've been through.
🐻 He'll ask if the father was a good man or not but he's already maade his mind up that unless the mans dead he cant be good cause he abandoned you and your daughter.
🐻 He never really thought he'd be a father, never thought he'd have a family... Always blamed it on his line of work, that it was better to be lonely and not risk losing anyone you loved, but he likes the family he's got now. Actually he loves them.
🐻 He has a fatherly protective sense of duty towards you both and you look to him as your saviour, the only person in the world you'll ever trust. He's so gentle and kind to you, and has demonstrated on more than one occasion that he'd kill and be killed for you and your little girl... That despite that "ugly mug" which you don't actually find ugly at all by the way, you can't help but want him as yours.
🐻 Its one of those "plenty of time to fall in love after the wedding" situations. Over time you adore him and want nothing more than to devote yourself to him.
🐻 Alfie will be such a good father. Sure it will be in that classic grumpy old man kind of way, always fretting about you and the baby, wanting to provide for you both, worrying about your safety, worrying that you'll get sick, worrying that you're not happy etc... He will be totally devoted to you, he'll grow to love the child as if she's his own and he'll love you too.
🐻 And he'll stand by his promise too, he doesn't force you to love him, doesn't force you to be intimate with him, and the first time you kiss him he's so stunned by your delicate fingers tracing the scar on his cheek that he blushes. When your lips touch his he puts a finger to your lips abd reminds you again, "zieskiet you don't have to pretend what did I tell you..."
🐻 "Fuck what you told me I ain't pretending nothin..."
Arthur
🍂 Tommy is forcing Arthur to get married because he thinks it'll force him to get over Linda. His brother thinks it will force him to get his head together once and for all and he pitches the deal to arthur as a clean slate, a fresh start with a pretty face.
🍂 But arthurs a bit uneasy about it, he doesn't believe for a second that anyone would ever want to marry him. No one in there right mind at least.
🍂 "And this girl eh brother... What's wrong with her that she's agreein to all this..." "I don't know what you mean brother..." says Tommy trying to feign naivety, but he knows what Arthurs getting at and knows his brothers skirting close to the truth.
🍂 "You know what I mean Tommy don't get stupid with me brother, you're the clever one ain't you... I've got a reputation haven't I... Now who the fucks giving their daugther away to a fuckin monster like me..."
🍂 And he's right about that reoutation, you are absokutely petrified of him. On your wedding day you're shaking and you can't keep the tears from your eyes. You do well to hold most of them back but Arthur sees them caught in your lashes. You look so sad and so scared and it hurts him to see you like that, knowing he's the root of that fear.
🍂You seem so gently and sweet, so timid. When you say your vows your voice is so wuiet, you're like a littke mouse or a baby bird. So pretty abd shy.
🍂 And Arthurs not exactly s genlte man, he's clumsy and awkward and he's always louder than he means to be, and somehow your shyness only makes that worse. He feels even clumsier and rougher around you and he's so painfully selfconcious because he doesn't want to scare you at all.
🍂 So he has to try and show you his soft side, which he isn't sure he actually has. He tries to ask Tommy for advice but his brother doesn't take him seriously, just shrugs and laughs him off, tells him "if you're so scared of the girl you don't have to speak to her at all... Consumate your marriage and never speak to her again..." but that thought horrifies Arthur who shakes his head and gets frustrated, "Nah, nah Tommy that ain't right, thats fuckin cruel Tom..."
🍂 So he asks Ada who laughs at him but, because she feels sorry for you - she remembers how scared you look the day you got married - she does her best to offer her brother some advice, advice about minding his coarse language, not raising his voice, not knocking furniture over or breaking olates when he's drunk and angry.
🍂 And polly gives him some advice too, about how to hold a hand without squeezing too tight, about how to touch a woman's cheek delicately, how to brush her hair behind her ear without poking her in the eye or making her flinch...
🍂 Arthur takes this advice very seriously and tries so so hard to be a gentleman to you. He really tries not to swear, really tries not ti get drunk or angry. But just as things are starting to work out between you, just as you both stop being so timid around one another he finds out about the baby.
🍂 He gets jumped outside the Garrison by some scratty bastard claiming Arthur Shelby stole his son.
🍂 His first response is anger, naturally. He's absolutely livid that you didnt tell him. He's spent all this time being careful with you, trying so hard to be a good man for you and all this time you've been lying to him, keeping this massive secret. And not just from him either... you didnt tell tonmy and its a betrayal of trust, you've not just insulted him but his whole family...
🍂 He doesn't know what to do, he completely panics because he's going to have to carry this shame to his brother, his brother who will probably kill you and your family for deceiving the Shelbys.
🍂 However, a lot of his anger is down to panic... You have a child, a whole fucking child! Have you been expecting him to be a father to that child this whole time? He isn't cut out for that, he ain't cut out to be a fucking dad...
🍂 He takes a lot of his anger out on the cunt claiming to be the father of your child, he doesnt stop to work out if any of its lies, just throws himself at the bastard because this man isn't pleasant and he's socked Arthur in the jaw and started making all these nasty threats... So all that anger and fear, all the hatred and betrayal, he takes it out on this stupid bastard, beating him within an inch of his life.
🍂 He doesnt kill him though because he needs to know if hes telling the truth about being the lads dad... Your man...
🍂 When he confronts you you get so so scared... You back away trying to put a safe distance between you and Arthur who has just stumbled in covered in blood, wreaking of the drink.
🍂And then when he tells you about the man who jumped him, when you hear what Arthurdid you start crying and suddenly Arthur gets worried, has he potentially killed this man you love? Will you ever forgive him, will you be scared of him for the rest of your miserable lives together... Has he doomed you both to suffer eachother in hate and fear forever?
🍂 But then you throw your arms around him and he realises you're crying tears of relief. That you're holding onto him so tightly, just saying "Thank you, oh thank god, thank you Arthur, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have lied to you I just didn't know what to do, I was so scared, oh god thank you... Know i shouldnt be happy but i am."
🍂 He's confused as fuck tbh, doesnt know what to make of it, struggles to stand there and hold you because he isn't very good with crying women and you're utterly hysterical. He awkwardly puts his arns around you, oats you on the back and just kind of waits for you to explain...
🍂 "ere love don't cry eh, calm down sweetheart, ain't gonna solve anythin cryin like this are ye..." He's awkward, blushing and a little embarrassed, doesn't know what to do and feels totally helpless.
🍂 When you do explain everything, that you were never married to the man, that he ain't your man at all and never was, but that it is his kid and the reason your parents gave you up to Arthur is because they were so frightened of the man that they knew you needed to leave ur city, go somewhere with dangerous people who could keep u safe etc..." Arthur just listens completely baffled, getting more confused but also more upset as the story goes on. He's uoset for you and the more you tell him youre sorry, the more you beg his forgiveness and tell him you didn't mean to use him, didn't mean to cause any trouble, that they didnt give you a choice just packed you off in the middle of the night... The more certain Arthur becomes that he has to stand by you. He remembers your timid delicate face the day of your wedding, the tears in your eyes, the lack of family with you in the church... He realises that this has all been one long nightmare for you and that your fate rests on him. That he can choose to help you or doom you to a life of misery.
🍂In the end he's relieved too, he chuckled nervously and tells you that all considered he's glad he fucked the guy up as bad as he did. "Only fuckin sorry I didn't kill him... If I ever see that bas... Sorry, if I ever see him again I promise you love I will..."
🍂 "You're family now eh love, my family you and the baby and I'll do me best to be a good husband and a fuckin good father too, know I'm not really a good man but I promise you I'll do me best..."
🍂 Will admit he doesnt know what hes doing and you'll say lets face it, his own dads not exactly an angel...
John
🌼 We already know that John isn't going to be happy about the idea of an arranged marriage, especially not one orchestrated by his brother to make peace with a rival gang.
🌼 He will throw a strop when Tommy tells him, he'll be livid, accusing him of treating him like a child, "always fuckin controllin us all whenre you gonna get bored of playing the fuckin puppet master eh?"
🌼 Stupid and pissed off enough to try and start a physical fight with him, shoves him hard and has to be held back by Arthur, who has to try and be balanced. He isn't really in agreement with the situation either but he doesn't want to see John do anything stupid, and he knows that if John hits his brother again Tommy will come down full force on the lad.
🌼 So John will be dragged by his heals to the altar, he's still grumbling when they arrive at the field your wedding is to be held in. He's wearing a real school boy scowl when Arthur and Finn push him up to stand with beside you. He can't see you but you can see him through the veil which covers your face and the sight of his sullen expression strikes fear in you. He looks so angry, he looks like all those bad stories you've heard about the Peaky Blinders might actually be true...
🌼 But when the veil is taken from your face and John sees you for the first time everything changes... You're so pretty, with the soft earthy features, your eyes so emotive, a real deer look about you as you gaze back at him a little shyly...
🌼 Something about your pretty face and your soft features sooths him, calms his temper and suddenly he isn't so sulky anymore. Suddenly he's wearing a shy smile of his own, looking at you like he can't quite believe his luck.
🌼 When the sermons being read and you're both waiting to make your vows, kneeling together at the altar John turns to you with a little smirk and nods, whispers "Hullo," his cheeky smile and the way he's whispering over the sermon makes you feel like a kid being naughty in class. You're blushing and biting back a cheeky smile of your own when you whisper "hello," back.
🌼 He can't help but flirt with you, he knows this should be terribly awkward and that you're probably really unhappy to be there being married off to some stranger with a criminal record but he can't help himself. Your smiles so pretty and once he's had a taste of it he keeps chasing it.
🌼 He's also a little embarrassed to have arrived so reluctantly to your wedding, feels like he's got a lot of making up to do...
🌼 He'll sense your awkwardness and want to put you at ease, he can tell that you're shy, can tell that you feel nervous and he'll want to make you relax. Now that he's seen you he isn't so annoyed to be being married off to you and he wants to show you he's not all that bad either.
🌼 So he's whispering pointless small talk to you throughout the sermon, making you smile and stifle a giggle, earning you reproachful looks from Johnny Dogs who is trying his best to recite the sermon without throttling John for not taking it seriously.
🌼 But John is all, "pleasure t'meet you," shooting you that boyish smirk, making eyes at you like its just you and him having some private joke...
🌼 But he sees your hand shaking when Johnny goes to cut your palms and mix your blood and John remembers that although he can make his jokes and tease and flirt with you, you're probably still petrified of the future that lies ahead. You probably don't want to be doing this at all.
🌼 So when he clasps your hand in his and your blood meets his blood he holds your gaze and leans in to mumble something to quietly, lips barely moving, voice barely above a whisper. "Don't be scared flower." Of course its all good and well saying it but how can he really help you, of course you're going to be scared...
🌼 So later when everyone else is drinking and dancing he takes you to one side, his hand on your waist and then when he realises he's probably being too intimate, snatching his hand away, scratching the back of his neck instead. "Listen y/n I'm really fuckin sorry about all this, know its probably not what you imagined for your wedding day..."
🌼 But honestly, you're not sad to be marrying John. You didn't have dreams of a big romantic wedding or a husband you fell in love with at first sight... But you think that seeing John at the altar that morning is as close to love at first sight as you could possibly get... Yes you were nervous, yes you were shy, scared about your future... But not because you were marrying John... Well, your trembling hand had been a little to do with John but not because you were scared of him...
🌼 So you blush and shake your head and try to tell him he doesn't need to apologise, "I like you John," you say imediately looking at the floor, a shy but cheeky smile on your lips as you stand on tiptoe, brave enough for a fleeting second that you stand on tiptoes and kiss his cheek, leaving him blushing and speechless. "Really I do... I'm happy I got to marry you..."
🌼But John can tell that somethings not right, maybe you're not sad about the wedding or about marrying him but you're sad about him. He knows what sad girls look like, he saw many of them after the war and you look just as torn up as all those young widows...
🌼 Your little one is at your wedding, your mother is raising them, trying to pass them off as her own. And you've done well all day to pretend the little two year old is just a younger sister...
🌼 But John recognises your mothering instinct come out when the child runs over to hug you and you pick them up so lovingly. He can tell that you're not sisters, he can see that cherished look as you nuzzle your nose against hers. And he can tell by the tears in your eyes when you place her down on the ground and send her back to your mother. The way your gaze lingers as you watch her go, you look whistful, forlorn. Like a girl in mourning.
🌼 And Johns annoyed but not because you lied to him and not because he's just found out he's going to have another child on his hands. No, Johns annoyed that you were going to let your mother raise it, that you'd give up your kid just like that... Seemingly guiltless...
🌼But when he confronts you, umable to control his anger, snapping at you, growling the accusation at your through his teeth, breaking your heart because he's got it all wrong... You begin to cry, not hysterically but calmly. The tears running quietly down your cheeks as you look back at him with all this dissapointment in your eyes.
🌼 All day he's been so sweet you, sharing those conspiratorial smirks with you, as if you understood one another... Now you're worried he doesn't understand anything at all.
🌼 "I didn't want to... I don't, its fuckin breakin my heart to let her go... I don't have a fuckin choice they've... They..." you try to explain it to him, that your family forced you to give the baby up to your mother and let her raise it instead so that you wouldn't bring shame to the family, and so that Tommy wouldn't call off the engagement.
🌼 Then he has to swallow his anger, he doesn't want to see you crying and youre shivering there, sniffling in front of him all teary eyed, you're doing your best to stand up to him and he feels pretty guilty. His wife, standing up to him on her wedding night for fuck sake...
🌼 He gets angry with your family then, storming over to Tommy to tell him what they've put you through, to tell him what he thinks of his new in laws. He's suddenly very protective of you and he has this violent streak surface in him, he wants to hurt the people who have hurt you... So Tommy has to yank him to one side, him and Arthur trying to calm him.
🌼 "Its your fuckin weddin day John boy, you can't be fuckin fightin on your fuckin weddin day... Just take your girl and dance with her eh, like a fuckin man..."
🌼 So he does. He takes his girl, straight from her grandmother's arms, picks her up and kisses her forhead, asking her if she'd like to come for a dance with her mammy. The three of you will dance together, him carrying her on his hip as he slow dances with you both. Its a really touching scene but its passive aggressive too and when he locks eyes with your father he's making a threat which is received loud and clear.
🌼 He will make a huge point of openly accepting the child. he'll roll his eyes and nod to the family all self aware and apologetic, welcome to the family I guess.
🌼 That kids going to have so many brothers and sisters to run wild with. You'll actually have a really happy family.
🌼 John won't ask about the dad because hes got plenty of kids of his own and he knows how it works, you don't always love their parents but you love the kids. You'll be worried that he isn't bothered, you'll take it as him not caring about you or the child and when you ask him why he isn't bothered, why he isn't angry? he'll just shrug and say that he does care, you can tell him whatever you want whenever you like...
🌼 "Just don't see the point in dredge up the past when we're happy now," he'll say kissing your cheek, "got a good little family haven't we flower, we're happy ain't we? Why bother about anythin else eh?"
Bonnie
🍀 Bonnie is definitely the most heartbroken of the Peaky boys to find he's being married off to a stranger. He's sad to be being forced into an arranged marriage because he's always harboured dreams of meeting the love of his life, his soulmate and now he knows he'll never get the chance.
🍀 And he feels bad for you too because the chances are you're being robbed of the same thing. He's a romantic soul and it feels bleak and grey to be being robbed of love, the chance to fall in love.
🍀 He also knows that the nature of his life means you'll have to leave everything behind, travel with him and the family and that you'll really be alone in it all. He'll have his family still, not a lot will change for him, but you're being forced to leave everything behind, forced to go it alone and Bonnie is empathetic enough to know how much that will hurt you, how scared you will be...
🍀So he feels guilty too, guilty to be putting you through his own idea of hell.
🍀He is however determined to make the best of it, to be a friend to you if nothing else... He's such a sweet boy and he can't stand the thought of you being uncomfortable... He can't stand the thought that he might be ruining your life or breaking your heart. He's scared that you're going to be scared of him. From the moment he finds out he's to be married to you, to the day you finally meet Bonnie is preocupied worrying about the mystery girl he's to wed. Worrying you will hate him, worrying he won't be good enough, worrying you'll be scared... He's really scared that you'll be one of these girls who cries at the altar or tries to run away... Not that he could blame you for either, he just hates the thought that he could be playing a part in some innocent lassies misery.
🍀 He's a bit cyncial too, about where youre coming from... You can't have a particularly good family if they're giving you up to their enemies to "make peace" he thinks thats all wrong, he thinks they can't possibly love you or care about you very much if they're willing to hand you over to the people they hate most... People they call savages. He knows that if he had a daughter this would be the last thing he'd do to her. That if he had a daughter this was the sort of situation he'd want to protect her from...
🍀So before he's even met you he has all these complicated thoughts and feelings about you. He's been wondering about you for days on end.
🍀 On the day of your wedding hes taken back by how beautiful you look, so pretty all in white...He's genuinely stunned and when you remove your veil from your face with your delicate fingers Bonnie is held hypnotised by your grace. You're fae like, something ethereal about you in the misty morning light. He can't take his eyes off you and when your palms are cut and its time for Bonnie to take your hand in his he is too distracted gazing at your eyes that he misses his cue. Johnny Dogs has to press your hands together himself clipping him round the back of the ear for being daft.
🍀You're very shy, when Bonnie forgets to take your hand you bite down hard on your lip to hide your smile. You can barely look at him and struggle to hold his gaze. Bonnie thinks its because you're scared of him, or dissapointed by him but its not, its the opposite... You think he's lovely actually.
🍀 Sure you've heard about the Peaky Blinders fighter but the stories you've heard about a savage assassin just don't match up to this sweet brown eyed boy kneeling beside you, holding your hand clasped tightly in his.
🍀 Bonnie isn't sure how to act around you, he feels awkward, he feels shy too because actually you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen and he's sure that the only way he was ever going to end up with a lass as lovely as you was if someone fuckin forced it.
🍀 When Johnny tells him to kiss his bride Bonnie hesitates, his hand hovers by your cheek, his thumb brushing your blushy skin as he freezes, shy but also worried... You have hardly even looked at him this whole time, maybe you don't like him, maybe you're wishing you could runaway afterall.
🍀"C... Can I kiss ye?" he asks, his lips barely an inch from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek. You want nothing more than for him to close the gap between you. When your lips meet you feel that nervous but sweet flip in your stomach.
🍀Its this one moment of calm, this first telltsle sign of happiness and therefore its over too soon. Because when your eyes closed and his lips met yours your mind settled down, most of your anxieties hushed to a whisper. You would have enjoyed it had it not been for the secret you were keeping, the devestating truth you were being forced to keep hidden.
🍀 All throughout the wedding day Bonnie notices how you seem sad, more than that, you have this whistful, doomed look about you. He puts it down to you being sad about the arranged marriage and keeps telling you he's sorry you've had to do this...
🍀 "I know this ain't what you want y/n and it don't have to be like that between us you know, don't have to be like husband and wife between us if you don't want it... Won't be angry with you for that so don't worry, just let me be your friend eh, don't be lonely y/n, I'm your friend I promise..."
🍀 Throught the day he keeps trying to cheer you up, he's so sweet to you and dotes on you completely, in fact he hardly leaves you alone not wanting for you to be overwhelmed by his family and the peaky boys who are here... Still, his acts of kindness though they touch you, though they make you smile and blush, though you even giggle once at one of his daft jokes, don't really work cheering you up and Bonnie feels terrible because he can't help you. You still seem devestated.
🍀 It gets worse when you ask how long they'll be staying near Birmingham and he has to tell you that they're not. They stayed a day later just for the wedding, the vardos are moving on first thing in the morning and when he tells you you get choked up, your eyes are wide and white... You look terrified.
🍀 Again naive, bonnie puts that down to your fear of him and his family. Your fear of being alone with him, he tries to reassure you, tries to let you know he's there for you, that he'll be your friend, but before he can say much at all you've fled.
🍀 The parties in full swing now and other people are drunk enough not to notice you slip leave, only Bonnie watches you go, standing there helpless and a little heartbroken to watch you running away from him.
🍀You're not running away however, you're running to...
🍀You have to try to find your wee girl, shes with the church in small heath where your parents forced you to leave her that morning.
🍀You're demanding her back but they wont give her up, telling you that you made your decision, shaming you for being a whore... For giving up your child, for having her in the first place... You're desperate, on your knees in tears on the church steps, sobbing your heart out but the priests no sympathy for a wayward girl like you...
🍀When bonnie watches you go at first he doesnt know what to do, hes so scared, he wants to find you, to make sure youre safe... He knows there'll be trouble if your family realise what youve done.
🍀 So he corners your brother and forces him to tell him whats going on. He's clever about it, lies to find out the truth, makes a couple of wild guesses which pay off... Tommy Shelby would be impressed.
🍀 "Listen to me alright mate, that girls been heartbroken about somethin all day..." he hisses, his eyes burning with a fury he doesn't quite understand, "she just told me everything so don't even bother trying to lie about it eh, think your family's done enough lying for one day..." "Whats she told you?" the brother looks pissed off and when he sighs he's fed up, glancing nervously over his shoulder like he doesn't want to get caught. "Theres someone else..." says Bonnie, his voice shaking a little, he doesnt want it to be true, he doesnt want you to be in love with someone else because if you are you'll resent him. The chance of even a friendship for you both dashed on the rocks.
🍀But the brother just sighs and shakes his head, tells him not to cause a scene, "you're gonna be pissed but let's not fight about it here eh, for me sister, your brides sake eh..."
🍀 The brother tells him about the church and the baby and before he can tell you anything else, about the father or the circumstances that have brought you here, bonnie is running off to find you.
🍀He takes Isaiah and Finn with him to the church because for as much as he too is a catholic, a good one at that, he doesn't trust those churches and priests who he thinks have warped the religion for their own gains.
🍀And thats where he finds you, in a heap on the church steps still hammering on the door trying to get in.
🍀When he sees the mess youre in, when he finds out what they've done all his suspicions are confirmed and he's livid. Not just angry however but heartbroken for you because he knows you're younger than him and he can't believe the suffering you've been put through at the hands of the church and your family.
🍀 "And we're the savages?" he smirks to Finn when they pass you and enter the church by "order of the peaky blinders."
🍀 He gets your wee girl back, goes straight in, threating them. "Wheres my fuckin daughter?" "You had no right to take my fuckin daughter away! No fuckin right..."
🍀 And the church know a peaky blinder when they see one so they hand her over to him immediately. The moment he lays eyes upon her he knows he's going to be her father, knows he's going to raise her as if she were one of his very own. He feels an overwhelming sense of duty to protect her and it brings a tear to his eyes.
🍀 Always wanted a little girl and hes already decided to devote himself to her and to you. He can see that you need someone to be good to you and he's made that vow now, your bloods have been mixed, so he has a duty to you. Maybe he won't have that romantic falling in love he'd always secretly hoped for but that doesn't mean he can't try to love you and your little girl as best as he can.
🍀He gives her to you and when you burst into further tears he doesn't know what to do. He's not used to seeing girls so unhappy xnot like this anyway. He's seen his sisters cry over boys and arguments before but he's never seen a lass so distressed.
🍀 "Oh mary thank you thank you," you're sobbing, your body shaking with relieved sobs. Bonnie sitting down beside you trying to hush you and calm you. Making you all these promises to look after you both. "Shh sweetheart, its alright now dove, you're both safe now, I'm gonna take care of you you both from now on dove, I swear it on my life," he says taking your palm in his, kissing the cut which is healing from earlier that day.
🍀Takes you both home, promises you he's going to look after you both. "We're family now love, one that looks after one another, you're never gonna be sad or scared again I promise..." of course being a peaky blinder thats a promise he can't keep, but he'll say anything to reassure you in that moment.
🍀 You're going to be so won over by how loving and caring hes been, you went through something intense that night and got through it together. He saved your life and your wee girls life, you're so certain of that and as a result you feel so close to him. You really trust him, which is something you haven't been able to say about anyone for a long time.
🍀 You will probably talk about that day many times over the years, Bonnie will confess all of his naive hopes that he thought had been stolen from him that day, you'll both share how sad you were, how scared you were that you wouldn't ever know love. And then you'll smile and hold eachother, happy with the knowledge that even if you weren't destined for one another you've still found love.
🍀Your wee girl is going to have like 10 siblings sorry.
Isaiah
🐀You're more pissed off than him, you're so angry and you fight with your parents, you fight with his family, youre cold and so fucking bitter to him.
🐀The morning they tell you you do nothing but scream, you hit your father, beating at him furiously, you feel betrayed by him, by your mother who does nothing but stand sobbing weakly.
🐀And the person you hate the most is Isaiah... When he tries to talk to you, when he tries to tell you "I didn't fuckin ask for this either did I y/n!" you just get angrier, you shove him away, you try to run away.
🐀"What the fuck would you agree to something like this for? Who the fuck do u think you are... You think you should get to own me... I don't even fuckin know you and you're calling me your fuckin wife!"
🐀And Isaiah does feel a little guilty, this isn't exactly what he wanted either... But your temper is foul and you're doing nothing to contradict what he was told about you. That you'd grown wild, that you'd the devil in you, that you needed taming. He gets frustrated with you, annoyed that you can't see that this is bad for both of yous, not just you. Sometimes he wants to shake you and yell in your face, "You think this is what I wanted do you love? You ever stop to think I might have had a sweetheart of my own eh? You think I wanted to be stuck with a sour bitch like you for the rest of me life?"
🐀Sometimes when you are screaming at him he almost does say those things. But he's under orders from his father and Tommy Shelby to treat you right, theres an important alliance in the balance and if he loses his temper with you he could ruin everything. But you don't make it easy, you're angry at your situation and you're taking all that hurt and anguish out on him...
🐀When he finds out about the baby things get worse... All this time you had a way out, a way to annul the marriage and kept it from him. He's so angry with you but he feels like now you're even. You've been hating him this whole time, being truly evil to him, and now its his turn to be mad. He has a right to lose his temper now. He has a right to say all the horrid things he's been thinking about you all this time, your resentment for one another building.
🐀When he confronts you about it you have a huge, messy fight in which your whole backstory is carelessly hung out for all to see. You're screaming at him, hysterical, how dare he lose his temper with you for this...
🐀"This is your fuckin fault so don't blame me for keepin it secret, I had to keep it secret!! What would you have done eh, you and your Peaky fuckin Blinders! Don't blame me!" Don't blame me? You're the one who couldn't keep her fuckin legs closed love! "" Fuck you! Don't you dare talk about me like that, don't you fuckin dare speak about me like that! I'm your fuckin wife!"
🐀And when you say that he snatches your wrist in his, you'd raised your hand to slap him but now he's squeezing your wrist so tight it hurts, he's forcing your hand down onto the kitchen table, backing you up against it until you can feel the edge of the table digging into your back...
🐀"Aye," he says, his voice low and spitting, his eyes so unforgiving, "some fuckin wife you are eh sweetheart..." everything he says comes out a threat and suddenly you feel so small, so vulnerable. He's right up in your face, his hand still squeezing your wrist tight.
🐀"Some fuckin wife sleepin around and lying to me, you let me marry you! I didn't fuckin want you... You could have fuckin stopped it... I didn't want you..."
🐀And that cuts you so deep. You didnt want him either but having him stare you down oike that, each word slashing at you, full of vitriol... It hurts, brings tears to your eyes because you both know you're stuck together, he's saying these things to you now so plainly, so spitefully, knowing he can't take them back, knowing you'll have to face them for the rest of your life...
🐀"What're you crying for now eh, fuckin stop crying girl, don't start cryin now like I'm breakin your heart! You're the one whose breakin mine for fuck sake... A fuckin baby y/n, why the fuck would you keep that secret eh?" "I mean it love stop fuckin cryin, you made this fuckin bed you're gonna fuckin lie in it..."
🐀When you snatch your wrist free and flee from him, you run away without even taking a jacket. You're half blind from your crying, not paying any attention to where you're going as you tear through the Birmingham streets desperate to get away from him. Away from all the Peaky Blinders and the fucking nightmare world they live in.
🐀Isaiah shouts after you, he's angry but not just with you anymore. Angry with himself for letting you go, for letting you run away into the dangerous night without so much as a coat to shield you from the rain. He runs his hands over his cheeks and curses himself, curses you too for being so wild. Now he knows you've the devil in you. You're nothing but a terror head to toe.
🐀But he has to go after you, god knows what could happen to you out there on your own. If he doesn't find you someone else might and though you may think he's cruel, theres plenty more cruel out there and he knows it.
🐀So he searches for you all night on his own, too ashamed if having scared you away to ask his friends for help. He feels almost imasculated by the whole situation, what kind of man lets his wife run away from him like that...
🐀When he finds you you're drunk in some shithole pub half way across the city, its taken him hours and hes soaked through from being out in the rain all night. It's kicking out time and you're the last person in there. Women aren't meant to drink alone but you know the lad behind the bar from your wilder days and he's been letting you stay...
🐀"Alright love, you've had your fun eh, time to come home yeah..." says Isaiah, approaching you. You flinch away from his touch and it hurts him the way you look at him with such fear. "No," you whimper, you look so scared of him and yet so determined to disobey, to remain your own woman. "Come on lass I mean it yeah, we had an argument yeah, you ran away, you got blind drunk and now its time to come home... We'll sort everything out at home, promise..." and he does mean it. He's no intention of screaming with you until the sun comes up.
🐀Whilst he was out looking for you he had a lot of time to reflect on everything thats come to pass between you. The way he sees things now this has been painful for both of you. Both of you have been forced to give up the futures you wanted, both of you are stuck together now... And you made those vows before god, you can't ever undo them, you can't break that oath because you made it to eachother and also to god. And if you've a baby then you have to raise it together. You have to try and get along otherwise you'll be miserable for the rest of your lives, thats no way to be together, no way to raise a child.
🐀He feels guilty for losing his temper, he should have been man enough to understand you, he should have been what you needed... Now he's found you thats what he wants to tell you. That things are going to change between you.
🐀But you haven't given up your fight and you start crying again the minute he puts his arm around you to help you up and walk you home. You're really sobbing, its almost theatrical and it imediately begins to wind him up again... Why can't you see he's really trying for you here?
🐀You're too drunk to walk and in the end he has to pick you up and carry you all the way home where he sits you down at the kitchen table, your head slumping onto your arm. You're a mess and he can't help but chuckle despairingly. How the fuck did he get here?
🐀Still, amid the bitterness and the resentment theres a tiny glimmer of affection, you're just a lass at the end of the day, a lass who's had too much to drink and upset herself. And he does think you're pretty, even when your eyes are all red from crying.
🐀He sighs, pulls the chair up beside you and takes your hand. You don't look up at him at first, your eyes pressed to your arm on the table, refusing to turn your head until he tells you again.
🐀"Fuck sake y/n look at me now eh, I'm tryna talk to you... We're grown ups ain't we... Look at me..." he sounds exhausted and you're exhausted too so you turn your head and he can't help but think you look quite cute in your sulk. Your cheek squished against your elbow, your big eyes watery and sullen looking up at him from where your heads resting on the table.
🐀"I'm your fuckin husband love whether you like it or i like it," he says with a sigh, he wants nothing more than to go to bed but he knows this is a fight which can't be slept on, "so you fuckin listen to me yeah, all this screamin and cryins gotta fuckin stop cause were stuck with eachother and it aint gonna be much of a life if we ain't at least civil eh..." "Uhuh..." suddenly you're a lass of few words, just glowering up at him, hearing him out though he's not sure you're really listening to him.
🐀"You ain't really been behaving like much of a wife girl, and I know I ain't a saint, haven't been much of a husband to you either have I... But thats gonna change now yeah, it fuckin has to change now cause we can't live like this forever... Can't raise a child if we're at each others throats all the time eh?"
🐀You sit up then, your eyes wide but hopeful, you clasp at his hand suddenly alert, really listening to him...
🐀Isaiah smiles when he sees the light return to your eyes. Its the first time he's seen you looking like that... Hopeful.
🐀He's terrified of having a child, so scared that the child will reject him, that they'll hate him for not being their real father... He's scared he'll do everything wrong, scared he'll be a bad example... But he knows that he can't refuse to raise a child because he's scared the kid won't like him... He knows he has to do the best he can for you and yoir little one.
🐀 "So tonight sweetheart, am gonna get you to bed an me and you are gonna go to sleep, no more fighting yeah?" "Uhuh," "Then in the morning you're gonna stay here, I'm gonna go find your littlen and bring em back to you, and then we're gonna raise it together yeah, husband and wife, mam and dad..."
🐀He puts you to bed and for once you let him help you get changed, you let him look after you and help you into your bed and when he's made sure youre settled he tries to get some sleep himself. He's anxious however and his heads so busy with all these worries about the baby, about whether he's cut out to be a dad, that he barely gets any sleep at all.
🐀However the next day when he fibds the child, a little boy, something in him changes. He doesn't take to fatherhood perfectly, he's awkward and he's still very anxious on the indside. But he sees this little boy who needs a father, who needs someone to step up for him, someone who's isn't afraid of anything, who can be confident and in control. He knows that that has to be him and so he does, he steps up because he doesn't have a choice, theres a little boy depending on him.
🐀And your little boy takes to him straight away, he looks up to Isaiah and its clear he thinks the sun shines out of him. Isaiah is kind of proud of that.
🐀And its through seeing how him and the son grow close that you begin to trust him and your anger and resentment mellows, replaced over time by a kind of respect. You admire him, you have to admit that its impressive the way he stepped up to your son when he could have just kicked you both out on the street.
🐀It isnt just the baby he's been trying hard for either, it's you too. He's been doing everything he can to be a caring husband to you and you feel yourself softening up to him over time.
🐀Your respect develops into a friendship, you both know you can rely on one another, that its the three of you now who are a family. It might not be a romantic love which blossoms between you but theres certainly a mutual trust and admiration, a platonic love.
🐀And that friendship twinned with the fact that hes undeniably attractive, makes you wonder what it would be like to have children with him... Whether your little family of three could grow...
🐀You sleep together every night, you act just as a husband and wife should but theres always a distance, Isaiah has been waiting for you to close it for a long time, and one night when he climbs into bed beside you in the early hours, he's been away all night on peaky business and you've been worrying about him all night... He thinks you're asleep when he rests his head on the pillow and you roll over, draping an arm around him, nuzzling into his neck. He only realises youre awake when you leave a kiss at the top of his spine.
Michael
☘️Words cannot truly describe the rage which floods Michaels body when Tommy informs him he's to be married. Not only dies he think it's completely fucking embarassing in this day and age, "the modern world ain't for things like this Tom!" he also believes Tommy is only doing it to sideline him, to punish him and put him in his "place" a place he knows in his heart he does not belong.
☘️ He fights Tommy over it, not as physically volatile as John but certainly still puts up a fight. He tries to spite him through business. He fucks up a couple of deals Tommy wanted him to make just to spite him... Naturally this only makes things worse.
☘️ "Fuckin meet her first at least Michael, who knows maybe it'll be love at first sight..." Tommy is taking the piss, rubbing salt in the wound because knows Michael knows theres nothing he can do. That in the end he has no choice but to do Tommys bidding.
☘️ "Knowing you you'll have picked some fuckin pig for me..." he grumbles, not realising how far from the truth that could be.
☘️ A meeting between you is organised, with Polly and your mother chaperoning. It's the only time you'll meet before the wedding day and you're so nervous. You're terrified that Michael will see you and change his mind, that he'll break off the engagement because you're not good enough. That you'll let your family down.
☘️ You're also scared because you know that Polly Gray has the sight, you know that if you meet her gaze even for a second she will see into your soul and discover all the secrets you're trying to hide. The dark past you're desperate to forget. Because you've already had your heart broken beyond repair.
☘️When Michael sees you he falters, his lips parting, stunned. You're nothing like the girl he'd imagined you would be. You're not deformed or ugly, not some old spinster or s fucking 12 year old being married off early for status. You're simply beautiful, just a girl who looks something close to his dream girl. You're pretty, a little shy, but your smile is sweet and your voice is soft when you say hello. And your eyes are deep and full of heart. Soulful eyes, the kind you don't see much of in Small Heath.
☘️Polly does your readings, this is a condition of your engagement and one you're very nervous about. If it was just any old gypsy crone pretending to read your cards and your palms then you wouldn't be worried. Anyone else would be easy to fool. Polly Gray however isn't a con woman, she really can see secrets. Your hands shaking when she turns it over in hers and traces her fingertip slow and delicate down your love line.
☘️ "Well Michael, I don't think you'll have any complaints with this one..." she says offering her son a knowing smirk, she didn't need to read palms to know that. One look at you and the way Michael was starring at you, was enough to tell her that Michael at least would be happy.
☘️ Polly tells you both then, holding your hand and Michaels in each of hers, acting as a link between you, "you must both try to forgive one another, you must forgive your families too, for what they're asking of you... If you can do this you will be happy together, theres much potential for love here..."
☘️Polly saw the child in those readings she did, but she doesn't say a word, not to you, not to Michael. Not even to Tommy who she knows will be furious. Because she didn't just see the child, she saw everything. She saw how you were knocked up by a man you believed really loved you, how he ran away and abandoned you. How you tried to keeo the baby secret but couldn't when you began to show... How it was your own parents who reported you to the social and accused you of being an unsuitable mother... Your baby was taken from you just as Pollys were and she can see that desperate heartbreak in your eyes. She doesn't need to read your cards to feel the grief which radiates from you.
☘️ So she keeps your secret, and you don't see Michael nor his mother until the day of your wedding. When you walk down the aisle towards Michael you're shaking, you're nervous, self concious of everyones eyes on you. You never imagined your wedding day to be like this, a church packed out with gypsies and criminals, ruthless gangsters watching your hips sway in your white dress.
☘️Michael is still angry with Tommy, he knows what his mother has said to him about forgiveness but he will never forgive his cousin for treating him like a child, for humiliating him by forcing him to do his bidding in such a public and old fashioned way.
☘️ So he hides his attraction to you, he acts sullen and takes his hatred for Tommy out on you. He's treats you so coldly, glaring at you as he makes his vows. You can feel the hatred radiating from him and your voice is shaking as you say your own vows. You want to cry, you're actually scared of him.
☘️ He does everything he's supposed as he is supposed to, kisses you, dances with you, but he's so removed and aloof, so quietly cruel, something about him makes you feel like ice. You feel so lonely as he dances with you, you want to cry.
☘️ Later you're drunk, drinking to try and nurse your fear and sorrow away. You'd hoped when Polly had taken both your hands in hers and told you that you were well matched, that potential for love might blossom in time... But now it seems you're doomed to live the rest of your life loathed by the man youve just married.
☘️ Polly joins you at the bar, slips her hand into yours and leads you away from the party outside. You sit side by side in the steps and she offers you a cigarette. When at first you shake your head, a little wary of the older woman she says, "Don't be silly girl, have a cigarette, look at you for gods sake, its clear you need one..."
☘️ So you let her light your cigarette for you and you do as she says taking a drag and enjoying the comfort of that first inhale. Pol was right, you needed that. "Thank you..." you say quietly but Polly has already moved on. "I know about your son," she says her voice low, at first she sounds perfectly calm, matter of fact, and your heart fills with fear, but when she carries on you hear her change, her voice thick with emotion.
☘️ "My god girl the things you've been through, the things those fucks put us through..." she's clasping your hand in hers, holding it tightly. When you look up at her in confusion her eyes are tearful and suddenly you understand.
☘️ "I'm so sorry love," she says holding your cheeks in her palms, her cigarette smouldering by your eyes. "Those bastards never fuckin tire... If I ever saw the man who stole my babies from me I'd kill him," she tells you and suddenly you're stuttering...
☘️ "But... But michael?" you ask and she nods, she smiles and dabs at her tears and suddenly she's that stoney fearsome woman once again. Wise beyond her years. She clasps your hands in hers and looks you dead in the eyes. "Yes love... I got my son back, but it wasn't god who gave him back to me, we took him back, we took him... Don't lose heart love, you'll see your little boy again..."
☘️ You're scared then, convinced that even if you do get your son back Michael will never take him in. You beg Polly not to tell anyone, you ask her to keep the baby a secret and she understands why you're asking, because she understands she shakes her head.
☘️ "My sons stubborn y/n, but he ain't stupid... He'll take that little boy in, he fuckin will..." theres a threat in her voice then, a grit that chills you. You wonder if she intends to use that tone on Michael.
☘️ Its several days later when Polly tells Michael that you have something to tell him, something important. He's barely spoken two words to you since the wedding, avoiding you at all costs because he feels awkward. Because every time he looks at you his attraction threatens to break his resolve. He can't stand the thought that Tommy might have been right to pair you up.
☘️ "Me mum says you've got somet to tell me love?" he says entering the room, looking down at you where you sit on the sofa. "Says its somet important. Says I'm not to lose my temper, says I'm to be forgiving..."
☘️ You're so scared to tell him, you're shaking but you try to remember what Polly told you. You try to be brave, try to trust that her son is the gentlemen she claims he is and not the cold bastard he has shown himself to be since you were wed.
☘️ When you do tell him he purses his lips, swallows a lump in his throat and then says "did mum tell you about me?" he asks, his own eyes stewed with emotion as he walks to the window and gazes out at the street. The living room is dark and with his back to you you feel cold. He's only turned away so that you can't see the upset in his eyes.
☘️ "She did yeah..." "Fuckin horrid you know... They lie to you, feed you all this shit to make you hate your own family... Tell you you weren't wanted, tell you that your own mum hurt you... Then one day someone else comes along tells you all that was the lie... Wouldn't wish it on anyone."
☘️You're quiet, listening to him talk. You only realise you're crying when a tear trickles quickly over your lips and you taste the salt on them. When Michael turns round he looks you up and down. He feels a kind of guilt when he sees you so forlorn and heartbroken. He knows he's been unkind to you.
☘️ "Been pretty evil to you haven't I love... I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that, isn't you I hate..." he sits beside you and takes your hand in his, "I'll get your son back love, promise, call it a wedding gift."
☘️He lays out one simple condition for you, he'll take the baby and raise it as his own, as long as you promise to keep that secret too. The baby is Michaels, no one can know you weren't a virgin when he married you. It would be humiliating, imasculating. He can't have people thinking he married a "whore."
☘️It hurts hear him say that and he sees the wounded look in your eyes and apologises. "Love I don't think you're a whore..." does that really make it better?
☘️ It takes time but with the Shelby/Gray formidabke reputation Michael is able to bring your little boy back to you.
☘️You're not sad living with Michael, he really is a gentleman when he isn't acting up for Tommy. He takes good care of you and the boy and you live happily together. And you can't deny your attraction to one another. The cards and your palms didn't lie, you really were well matched and you do find love, far easily than most.
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