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#you’ll never know if it’s their love for you
luveline · 18 hours
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Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3
ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k
“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 
“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 
“I understand, but–”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 
You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?
“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 
The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 
“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 
You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 
“Did you call them?” 
Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 
Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 
“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 
You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 
Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 
“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 
You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 
“We really don’t have time to waste.” 
“I know, but my blood sugar–”
She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”
“Clearly not!” 
“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 
The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 
You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 
If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 
Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 
“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 
He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 
He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 
“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.
“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 
He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 
In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 
You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 
“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 
“No,” you say apologetically. 
“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 
Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”
“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”
“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.
“How did you get so low?” he asks.
“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 
“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 
“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 
“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 
“Don’t know,” you mumble. 
Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 
He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 
You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 
By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 
You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 
“I understand.” 
You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.
He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 
“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 
He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 
“What do I get in return?” 
He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 
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peachesofteal · 2 days
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Simple Math / Part Thirteen
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Nurse!reader. Domestic slice of life. Feelings of fear, self loathing, anxiety, dread. Complicated emotions. Verbal depiction of domestic violence. Non sexual intimacy. Scars from cigarette burns. Very brief daddy kink. Sick character (not reader). Comfort. Confessions.
The park is quiet.
You hoped it would be- middle of the day, in the middle of a work week, in the middle of the city. There are a few people around, walking, running, lingering. Enjoying themselves, the warmth of the sun on their face, a bright spot amid a typically grey winter.
It makes it easier. To look.
To watch.
To wait.
And you do. You wait, and you wait. You sit steady on the park bench, pretending to be remotely interested in the rough paperback cradled in your lap, spine already cracked flimsy by Simon’s grip. It’s Stephen King. Carrie, if you’re precise. A story of stolen girlhood and rage.
You swallow the shards of glass and acid the pages bring forth.
Deep breath. 
The breeze gusts, and your shoulders nearly shake. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve sat out in the open like this.
Easy prey.
You may have always been easy prey. Easy and young and stupid, easy, and naïve and manipulated. You fell for every trick in the book. You didn’t see the signs until it was too late.
Still, you watch. You wait.
You considered, for a while, that if Philip was around, if he was in the city, looking for you- he’d arrive here. Like magic. Like a classic villain, materializing in a plume of smoke.
And while it’s not exactly comfort you feel as each minute ticks by and he fails to appear, there’s relief in your soul for certain.
It’s a risk, to sit here. A question. With an answer, for now.
Will he? Won’t he? 
Today, the answer is he won’t.
Your phone vibrates, and you don’t need to look at it to know, guilt worming its way into the depths of your heart, anxiety piquing as you imagine both Simon and Johnny at their house, their home, worried.
Don’t fool yourself. Don’t give yourself too much credit. Don’t get carried away. 
Someone clears their throat over the back of the bench, and you whirl.
“Hey, sorry.” Your pulse slows from a gallop to something slower, and you shake your head.
“You can’t sneak up on me like that.” The man shrugs his second apology, legs spreading into the spot next to you. You’re practiced at this, familiar. Knowledgeable enough to keep your hands from shaking, even though the tremor builds through your bones.
“Been waitin’ for you to call.”
“I’ve been busy.” You eye the black bag in his hands, a small black fabric pouch, gold zipper glinting in the sun. “That everything?” He nods.
“Can I ask-“
“No.”
“Just seems strange, is all. Pretty, polished thing like you, needin’ all this. Most of my clients are more… rough around the edges.” Your teeth dig into your tongue. Already, this guy is less discreet and more obnoxious than your last purveyor. You wish you had hidden your face.
Like Simon. 
“We’re solid, then?” You unzip the pouch, cursory eye roaming over the collection inside, checking off a mental list. Usually, you would feel relief at this point, but today, it sours and rots. Liberation burns into a roaring wave of uncertainty, and your fingers tighten over the zipper.
“We’re good.” He stands, giving you one last long look, and then his mouth shifts into a half smile. “Good luck.” Your polite nod is strained and forced. A nonverbal fuck off.
He takes the cue, and slinks away, disappearing around a corner and out of sight.
The bag weighs heavily in your hands. A terrible reminder of the truth.
You’ll never have a life. You’ll never have a family. You’ll always be alone. 
You’ll never be pretty or polished or perfect. 
You’ll always be this. 
Scarred. Sectioned off. Scared. 
Desperation wells, and you close your eyes. You see Johnny, and Simon. Their faces. Sunlight in bleak darkness.
Love and family and strength.
The ache in your chest widens. You want to be home, with them. Curled up, with them. Sitting at the table and eating dinner, with them. All these things, these domestic, familiar things that once seemed so unattainable, now within arm’s reach.
But still so far away. 
Your shoulders relax a fraction, dipping lower, the strain on your injury zinging through your muscles as you roll them, and you shove the little bag into the backpack, above the clothes you pulled from your apartment.
Deep breath. 
Johnny’s the first you see after locking the front door. He’s in the kitchen, half leaning on his crutch, fishing something out of a pot, a noodle of some kind, and he freezes, eyes heavy with relief, when you come around the corner.
“Bunny.” His good arm reaches, fingers brushing together, cold against warm. He coos. “Ye’re freezin’.”
“It’s cold.” You agree, unzipping the front of your jacket. He slides cautious and slow touch around your waist beneath it, and you go with him, face burrowing into his chest, just below his collarbone. Your nose is nearly smashed, but you can still breath him in, feel him, be in this moment with him.
His hold tightens. “What is it?”
“Sorry it took me so long.”
“That’s alright, was jus’ worried is all. Text us back next time.” You nod, but stay silent, still taking gulps of air, nosing against the collar of his shirt to find his skin. “Pretty girl,” his hand strokes over the back of your head, warm breath on your cheek. “Ye alright?” You breathe through the threat of tears, though they sting and threaten to sink you.
“Ye-yeah.” You choke, and he tries to pull back, grip steady on your upper arm, but you follow him, still trying to crawl inside and hide, wrap yourself up in him and disappear.
“Hey now,” he clucks his tongue, trying to re-focus you, trying to get your attention, nimble fingers cradling your jaw, “what is it?”
There are no words to explain it, these feelings. The fear. The dread. The bile rioting in your stomach, the anxiety churning like a turbulent sea. It’s like no matter what you do, it all comes back, no matter how deep you bury it or how much you try to change the tide.
It’s easier to lie.
“I’m tired.” You whisper, and he rubs your back.
“Did ye eat?” No.
“Yes. I got something at the hospital.”
“Paperwork all in order so ye can hang out wit’ us until ye’re better?” His smile is infectious, a mirror blooming across your own face, and he dots your nose with his lips. “There’s our girl.” Your toes curl. He tugs the backpack into his grip, and you let him, let him push you up into the counter, drop your bag to the floor, slip his tongue between his teeth. You let it all go to your head, let yourself get lost in him, twist your fingers in his hair, nipples pebbling stiff as his mouth finds the sensitive skin of your neck.
He takes it all away. Every time. 
“Johnny.”
“I’ve got ye.” He finds an opening, a soft spot between your jeans and your shirt, hands roaming upward and over, everywhere. He’s everywhere, effortlessly, and you’re along for the ride, clinging so tight like you’re afraid you’ll fall.
And then-
It stops.
He’s holding your face, blue gaze unwavering, focused. “Bun, talk to me.” Your throat throbs, words sticking like taffy, clawing their way up in a jumbled mess until the only thing intelligible is what spills out.  
“Is this real?” You’re a child. Small and scared, desperate for some sort of reassurance, some semblance of security.
“Is what real?” His fingers close over yours, lifting them to his lips. “This? Us?”
“Everything. All of it… I- I-“
“It’s real. It’s been real since ye held my hand the first time. Or at least, it’s been real for me… since then. Thought ye were an angel. An answer to a prayer.” He cracks a smile, thumb rubbing across the slope of your cheek. “An’ I’m not the praying type.”
“There’s… you don’t know me, Johnny. There’s so much… you don’t know.” Your chest heaves, anxiety stuttering inside your lungs, air turning thin in your mouth.
“I know, shhh. I know.” You press your face back into his chest, words slowing to a stop, a trickle. “Ye remind me of him, ye know. A lot prettier though.”
“Who?”
“Si.” He kisses your temple, your forehead, peeling away to peer at your face. “Guarded… but scared under it all. Ye dinnae even know how life can be, too busy runnin’ away.”
“Johnny-“
“Ye’ve got secrets, I know. But it’s the same thing I used to tell him. Eventually you’ve got to let go, let me in. Let us in, Bun. We’re not goin’ anywhere. We’re not afraid. Let us prove it.” Your lower lip trembles, eyes burning with the brunt of tears. “Shhh, dinnae cry. Ye’re alright, everything’s going to be okay. I swear it.” You do nothing, nothing except stand there, half folded into him, breath and touch agonizingly slow, steady in his hold.
The two of you stay there, in the silence, until the agonized sear of distress starts to fade, and you begin to balance, ship righting itself after a long night in rocky seas.
Penny’s bedroom door is open.
The soft glow of a nightlight floats into the hall, and you peer past, finding Simon with his arms full, reclined in the rocking chair, a nearly asleep Penny gap mouthed in his arms. You wave.
“Hi,” he whispers, “get everything you needed?”
“Yeah, all set.” You nod to the baby. “She’s knocked.”
“Bath time was rough.” He traces her cheek, twirling a finger in her hair. A soft, faultless picture, his features delicately framed by shadow, thick arms the perfect place for a baby, an easy cradle.
It’s an intimate moment, and inside it, you feel out of place.
“I’ll see you downstairs?” You shift away, motioning, and he hums.
“In a few.”
Everything is slow with them in the evenings, you’ve realized.
They move leisurely, dancing around one another, Simon constantly watching and waiting, for both you and Johnny, anticipating. It’s a natural role, one that seems more permanent over necessary considering the circumstances, Johnny falling into an unhurried pace, languishing on the couch after dinner and dishes are done, fingers mindlessly stroking into the soft spot beneath your ear. Simon leans over, kissing Johnny and then settling at your side, an arm stretching around your back. “Should we watch something?” Johnny brightens.
“A movie?”
“If you’d like. Bun, any suggestions?” You blink. It’s a surprise, one that’s never occurred to you, the ability to simply choose a movie.
“Umm… no?”
“What’s yer favorite?”
“I don’t know. Whatever is fine. What do you guys like?”
“We know what we like. We want to know what you like.” What do you like? Comedies, you suppose. Something light and funny, something to distract the never-ending stream of thoughts cycling through your head.
“Uh, have you guys ever seen Forgetting Sarah Marshall?” Johnny chuckles.
“It’s been a while.” He flicks through the icons on the screen, thumbing over to where he starts to type it in. What if they don’t like it? What if they’re humoring you? What if you picked wrong? “Or, if you don’t like that, we can do something else. Anything. I’m not picky. It doesn’t have to be-“
“Hey,” Simon murmurs, warm palm resting on your knee, “that’s perfect. We both like that one.”
“Dracula musical.” Johnny smiles, finding it easily and clicking play. Your breath catches at the ease of it all, of picking a movie and that being that, no anxiety about a reaction or something triggering popping up on screen.
You can just… enjoy it.
The light in their bathroom is a little too bright.
Your toes stretch across the tile, nerves thrashing in the pit of your stomach as you stare in the mirror.
You don’t know who it is looking back at you.
You don’t recognize the girl getting ready for bed, brushing her teeth, wearing a pair of pajama pants and Simon’s shirt.
There’s a disconnect, some semblance of wires crossing, some phantom of someone else, living in your skin.
Because it can’t be you, getting ready to crawl into bed between them. It can’t be you, who fell asleep with her head on Simon’s stomach during the movie, can’t be you who stole a kiss from Johnny as Simon propped his leg up on the stack of pillows.
You’re playing house. Playing a game. 
It won’t last. 
It can’t.
You wrap a finger up in the hem of Simon’s shirt, frayed and torn edges pulling apart below the seam. It’s an old one, something he tugged out of a drawer and tossed on the bed, faded graphic turned from white to grey against a rusted black backdrop. It’s soft, and worn, and comfortable, an article of clothing well loved, and you wonder if Johnny’s worn it too. If it’s been passed around, washed, and dried a hundred times.
“Everything alright?” Simon leans into the bathroom, Johnny in view just past his shoulder. He’s not wearing a shirt, just soft, flannel pants, and you stare at the scars dotting his torso before dragging your gaze away.
“Yeah, sorry… I got distracted.” You turn the tap, rinsing your toothbrush before placing it by itself on the edge of the sink, out of place next to the cup holding theirs, and Penny’s.
You blink slow, allowing your eyes to close for a fraction of second.
“Ready for bed?” Johnny beams at you, lush and sleepy, hand outstretched, reaching.
You take a deep breath. “Yeah.”
Simon’s bedside lamp is still on, barely illuminating the dark. It’s quiet, and warm, and you bask in the space between their bodies, fingers playing idly with the hem of your shirt.
When Johnny’s fingers graze the skin under the fabric, your chest tightens. He strokes back and forth, over your navel, blazing heat from his palm tingling into your skin. You’re being torn in two, swallowed by the ocean, tugged in different directions.
You struggle to regulate your breathing, small draws coming in quicker, and Simon covers Johnny’s hand with his own, stopping the movement.
“Will you show us?” He murmurs.
“Sh-show you?”
“The scars.” Oh.
Will you? 
Even though Simon’s already seen them, this feels different. This feels like a choice. Like you’re peeling something back, baring yourself.
You close your eyes and pull the bottom of your shirt to the top of your ribcage, cool air ghosting over your exposed skin. Johnny makes a sound, a twisted whisper of something pained, and you shiver.
A thumb slides over the raised skin on the left side of your belly. “These are from cigarettes?”
“Yes.” You almost want to look, want to see, but can’t bring yourself to do it, to witness their disgust, their shock. You’re hollow. Drifting. Falling away from them. Someone shifts, the bed moves, jostles slightly, but you block it out. Every muscle in your body is taut, jaw locked, and fists clenched.
This morning was intimate but this… this is something else. Something more. 
“Can ye feel them, still? Do they hurt?” Two hands roam, rubbing gently, skimming.
“No but… they’re hideous.”
“No.” Simon croaks, voice thick. “There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t perfect.” Your heart cracks, and the light touch of fingertips disappears, replaced with a swath of breath and then-
Lips. 
He’s kissing them. 
It stops your heart, dries your mouth. Robs you of your breath, your head spinning into an enormous vortex of disbelief. Simon’s mouth travels, dotting your skin between each ugly, raised bump, carefully pressing a kiss to each one, gradually. He takes his time, and with your eyes closed, you can feel his body hovering above you, holding steady just over your frame. Johnny’s forehead rests against yours, and he cups your face, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek, sweet and slow.
“Will ye tell us… about how you got them? Who gave them to ye?” Simon cradles your hips, firm pressure folding into your skin, the curve there, and he squeezes, prompting you, expecting. You don’t know how he does it, how he’s so easily able to guide you, and Johnny. It’s seamless.
“I…” You don’t know what to say, if you were to say anything at all. How to answer. How to begin to explain. How to confirm what you know they already suspect, how to start this story. This nightmare.
Are you really doing this? Could you really do this? 
There’s a sliver of sun, begging. Pleading. It rails against the cracks in your heart, desperate.
So, you spit out the only thing you know for sure.
“He liked to hurt me.”
“Who?” Simon’s question is immediate, and your ribs expand with a long breath.
“My… ex.” Stop talking. Stop this, stop it, stop- “He’s a monster.”
“The healed breaks on your x-rays…” He trails off, and you reach blindly, searching for an anchor. Johnny gives it to you, clutching your hand in his, thumb soothing over your knuckles.
“Yes.”
“And more.” Simon whispers, and Johnny draws a sharp breath. You nod.
“And more.”
“Your neck, and shoulder?” There’s a long silence, as you sit atop the wall. As you wait and try to decide if you want to jump off or continue to sit here… trapped at the top, teetering on the edge while they wait below.
You’re in their life now. You said you’d try. They should know. 
You trust them. 
Don’t you? 
“He found me.” You confess, cracked and bleeding and hung out to dry. Three words barely scratching the surface of the truth, saying almost nothing at all and still so much. You stumble, and panic, fear bubbling up to the surface. “I’m sorry, I told you before- I said-“
“And we told ye; nothing is going to get ye while ye’re with us. Ye’re safe, bunny.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about!” you blurt, a near snap, and Johnny freezes. “It’s you guys, and Penny, and your friends, you- you don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t understand. He’s chased me across the world, he always finds me, no matter what, no matter what I do, o-or where I go-” You’re rambling, nearly hyperventilating, and slipping away, succumbing to the rolling black clouds overtaking your mouth and mind, stuttering and falling, drowning in an endless darkness.
They don’t know. They don’t understand. They can’t. 
You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re nothing. 
You’re a child again. A lost girl. Alone and scared. Trapped in the dark.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” You shake your head, and Simon catches it between his palms, holding you still. You can fight and flail and run, but he’s still there. Strong and safe and beautiful in every way, a foundation of love, of trust. “It’s just us, we’re here. With you. Look.” Johnny tightens his hold, and your bones rattle inside your skin, aching and splintering, shredding you from the inside out.
“I can’t.” You hiss, trying to curl away. You can’t face them, or this. The reality. The truth.
It’s easier to run. Who were you kidding? You can’t do this. You should have already been gone. 
But they won’t let you go. Not now. Not when they have you so close to the light. So close to the sun. 
And maybe it’s time to accept it.
“Look at me, pretty girl.” Johnny murmurs. “Ye can do it.” The pull of his voice drags you closer, comforts you, and you long for him, long to see his blue eyes, overgrown mohawk and gorgeous smile. You long to relax into him, to hear the thump of his heart, steady and strong. He’s a lighthouse in the pitch-black night, a guiding light. It’s enough to lessen pressure building in the back of your skull, and you slowly blink, both of their concerned faces coming into view.
The three of you linger silence, holding each other, decompressing from your confession, your fear that feels too much sometimes. It all fades, night turning long, and eventually you yawn, blinking away the sleepy stars in your eyes.
“There’s our bunny.” Simon kisses your cheek. “My good girl.” My good girl. Turning it over in your mind makes you squirm, allowing it ricochet back and forth with his accent, and you wish you could latch onto it, memorize it, hear it every day. Johnny gives you a bemused smile.
“Ye liked that?” He raises an eyebrow at Simon, and then presses his lips to your ear, whispering. “Ye want to be a good girl for daddy, little bunny?” Daddy. You choke. You anticipate disgust, revulsion, but none of it comes.
Only… intrigue. Warmth.
“I think that’s enough for tonight.” Simon interrupts gently. “Thank you, sweetheart. For trusting us. I know it’s hard.” You turn into Johnny, and Simon rolls to flick out the light, pulling up tight behind you, sliding an arm under the pillows. You burrow deeper into the blankets, snuggling between them to find the warmest spots, and sigh.
“You both… make it easier. You make it easy.”
The world from yesterday is forgotten the next day when Penny wakes up with a fever.
The house is thrown into confined, regulated chaos, but chaos all the same. She wails almost the entirety of the morning, miserable, and you ache for both her, and her dads, who are unmoored and anxious. You don’t even balk when Simon asks you to hold her, explaining he has to call her pediatrician.
“Hey, you’re okay.” You coo, rubbing her back. She’s warm to the touch, but not scorching, and it gives you some comfort, even with what little you know about peds. You rock her, pacing, as Johnny watches uneasily from the couch, typing unending questions into a web search about babies and fevers. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I know you don’t feel good.”
“It’s 38.1… that’s fine, right? As long as it’s under 39?”
“I think so.” You try to reassure him. “I’m not a little human nurse though, so I can’t be sure. But it hasn’t been that long, Johnny. We don’t need to worry until at least twenty-four hours.” He nods, lips quirking into a small smile. “What?”
“Ye said we.”
“Well… yeah…” you trail off, and he shakes his head.
“Jus’ like the sound of it, is all. Like how ye look, holdin’ our baby.” You give him a look, half exasperated, half doe eyed, as always, because you can’t help but feel a little lovestruck or dazed whenever you glance his way, always taken by him, no matter the moment.
Simon steps back inside from the patio, swooping to rub his nose in Johnny’s hair and squeeze his shoulder affectionately. “The pediatrician says if she gets worse, or doesn’t improve by tomorrow, to bring her in.”
“Good.” You bounce her, propping her up on your shoulder. “That’s good.” She gurgles, croaking through her miserable fever. “Poor baby girl, I’m sorry.” You pat her again, trying to help settle her-
She coughs, and something warm runs down your back.
“Shite.” Johnny curses, Simon immediately trying to pull her from your arms, but you shake your head.
“There’s no sense in her throwing up on you too.” You explain.
“I’ll go grab a towel, and some clothes. Do you want to change your shirt?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” You keep your hand steady on her back. You’ll both need a thorough wipe down now, maybe even a shower.
“Sorry, bun.” Johnny frowns, but you reassure him, still rocking Penny in your arms. 
“It’s fine, really. I’ve been through way worse with bodily fluids, trust me.” The bottom stair creaks, in the way that it only does for Simon, his mass too much for one of the wooden slats.
When you look up, you realize he’s not moving, only standing shock still, clothes and towel and a baby blanket in one hand,
and the contents of the little black bag in the other.
You left it on the dresser. You left it out in the open, unzipped, on the dresser. 
Your blood freezes. Johnny frowns, looking between his partner and you, trying to desperately draw a conclusion that doesn’t come.
Simon holds the little navy-blue book up, the one with your picture in it, but with a name they won’t recognize. A person they wouldn’t know.
A person you don’t even know, yet. A new life. A new identity.
“What’s that?” Johnny’s quizzical, intrigued.
“Bunny.” Simon breathes, and you shake your head. It’s all you can do, just shake your head back and forth until your brain is rattling around in your skull.
You can’t stop it.
They’ll never love you. They won’t accept you. They won’t understand. 
“It’s- it’s j-just in case,” you stammer, panicked and tongue tied. “you… you don’t understand, I have to have it… just in case.”
“What is it?” Johnny demands, and Simon flips the front of the booklet around-
revealing the cover of a brand-new American passport.
739 notes · View notes
ham1lton · 2 days
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kiss me thru the phone!
pairings - logan sargeant x law student!reader (no faceclaim).
warnings - nothing <3
summary - oscar has a new number. no problem! until logan realises he hasn’t been texting his friend his breakdown but rather some random girl. well… let’s hope you have some good advice at least.
— part four of my 500 followers celebration ♡ —
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liked by yourbffname, classmate2 and 237 others.
yourusername: coffee, studying and taking candids of my bestie. isn’t she so pretty when she’s in the midst of a academic breakdown?
yourbffname: fuck u!!! that picture is kinda cute tho. can’t even see my dark circles 😩
-> yourusername: you’re v gorgeous to me!!!
classmate2: those cookies look amazing 🤩 we need to go for some!!
-> yourusername: yess!!! we should. after tomorrow’s lecture okay for you?
-> classmate2: yes!! 🫶🏼
yourmum: keep up the good work honey!! proud of you!! make sure to drink water and take breaks :D
-> yourusername: ofc!!! can’t wait to come home and see you!
yourchildhoodfriend: can’t believe u got into harvard. rory gilmore wishes.
-> yourusername: you’ll always be the lane to my rory babe <33
-> yourchildhoodfriend: imy!! come home soon!!
-> yourusername: i will!! me and u and the arcade?
-> yourchildhoodfriend: it’s a date! 🥰
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liked by yourbffname, lilymhe and 348 others.
yourusername: england was great. shout out to auntie k! oh, i also met some dude. anyone recognise him?
logansargeant: he kinda fine 😩😝😜
-> yourusername: he is… too bad he’s mine 🙄
-> logansargeant: when she claims u in public 🤤 >>
oscarpiastri: never seen him before… he a little close to the camera though. if i was you, i’d run.
-> yourusername: good idea. i already got my nikes on.
-> logansargeant: 🙄🙄🙄😒😒😒👎🏻‼️
lilymhe: lovely meeting you babe!!
-> yourusername: yes u too!! need to hang out again soon <3
-> lilymhe: we can ditch our bfs again 🤩
-> alex_albon: ????? NO 😰
yourbffname: girl… did you get the goods?
-> yourusername: the lewis hamilton signed cap?? ofc. think of it as a thank u for motivating me to even do this. <333
-> yourbffname: omg i could kiss u on the mouth but i won’t bc logan might kill me. that last pic a lil scary…
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author’s note: PLEASE ignore the shitty photoshop job on the text messages. the app is usually use to make these texts decided to stop working so i need to find a new one 🙄 also if u guys liked this… u should read my other logan fics — summer lovin’ and manifest it! 😜
taglist — @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @luckyladycreator2 @alexmarie29 @cuteskz @purplephantomwolf @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @moviecritc @wildflowermarns @lichterfee @d3kstar @f1kenzzz @ravisinghs-wife @blupblupfish @demvnsriot @ajvaix @au-ghosttype @thehistoryone @raevyng @colmathgames2 @iloveyou3000morgan @namgification @formulaal @firelily-mimi @lemon-lav @67-angelofthelordme-67 @snapeeballsack (let me know via ask if you’d like to be removed!)
join my taglist to not miss a new post!
717 notes · View notes
ajortga · 2 days
Text
can you keep a secret?
pairing: wednesday addams x fem reader
summary: you miss your girlfriend who's recently transferred to nevermore academy. your persistent whining is able to transfer you to nevermore and cling onto her the whole time there.
word count: 5k+
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based off request!
-
W and R are in a relationship, W transfers to Nevermore. W and R may not have anything in common, but they do on some things, like R being an outcast as well (a werewolf ), R insists their parents that they transfer to Nevermore too. After they successfully did, R immediately finds W, the outcast's curious to what'll happen to R (obvi doesn't know they knew each other).. Basically every student in Nevermore sees them together everyday. One, asks W who R is to W, she answers truthfully, "They're My Lover." everything and everyone just goes crazy
-
“Cara mia, we live next to each other,” Wednesday says softly, brushing your hair back as you braid her black silky hair.
You hum, a little sad, finishing to braid her two tiny braids that hung low to her chest.
“But I won’t see you in school, baby." A huff escapes your lips as your girlfriend sighs, giving up on trying to coax your madness.
“Or at all,” you add, “you’ll have a damn dorm with some girl that you’ve never seen before. It’s not fair.”
The raven-haired girl rolls her eyes, “I’ll cut off my heart with the sharpest knife I know if I ever started to love someone more than you,” Wednesday suggests, trying to make you feel better.
She cups your cheeks as you refuse to speak and rubs her thumb gently around the pink tint covering them. A way to always make you feel better. Yet she knows better because you certainly don’t look better.
“We’re both outcasts Weds. My stupid parents just won’t allow me to transfer because they think Nevermore is weird. Yet they went to school there. That's not fair."
“They’re just trying to protect you. I'd feel that way too for our daughter if Nevermore had hurt me. If someone ever hurt you, they’re death will be a long one. Sufferable and miserable. So bad that they’ll beg for forgiveness before they bleed out.”
Usually Wednesday would expect you to smile and giggle, but you’re not. Why does your girlfriend have to leave you?
“Can’t you stay?” You ask, voice tiny.
“As much as I sneak out, Mother has already informed everyone including your parents not to let me stay the night. They are used to my.. Tactics per say.”
Your sharp nails from your growth as a soon to be wolfed out werewolf emerges, clawing the wood you attached to your wall when this kind of stuff happens.
"I can sneak you in and I'll even build you a door in my closet," you suggest.
"No, Y/N."
"What if we install a life-like robot and I'll sneak out with you?"
"No."
You huff angrily, slashing the wood.
Wednesday firmly takes your hand, and your hand almost scratches her, yet it stops as you don’t want to hurt her, “Stop that.”
“No,” you state, tugging your hand away and sinking them into the wood, so hard that a big ass dent forms.
Your girlfriend sighs, rolling her eyes as she sweeps her bangs away from her eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to do bambina. Maybe I could.. Sneak you away from this horrid place. But at what cost? Nevermore seems strange. Not strange in a way I’d want to discover in mysteries though.”
She sees the way you sigh, disappointed. Upset.
“You’ll be there for a whole school year, it’s far.”
“I’ll bring my typewriter. Distance won’t change that, swear on my cemetery. I’ll write you letters at night, secretly take the principal's mailbox and send them to you. Or I’ll threaten Thing in my backpack and crawl till he can give it to you.” Wednesday isn’t kidding, her stare is cold, well usually it was cold, but not towards you. “He can suffer in thorns, I’ll stitch him up, just as long as.. You’ll write back?”
You nod, yet you don’t care about the letters, you care about her.
“You’ll send them?”
“Yes.”
“Every night?”
“Yes.”
“What if you begin to stop when you feel like it’s not working anymore?”
“I won’t Y/N.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Oh, but I do.”
"No you don't, you don't know the future."
"But I do know that I won't stop sending my letters. I can feel it."
You stop scratching the wood and you bury yourself on Wednesday, breathing in her scent as you try to comfort yourself. Yet even when the lights are off, your heart is pounding, feeling alone.
-
A tear falls from your cheek as you watch Lurch stuff his trunk, Wednesday talking to her mother and father, while hesitantly hugging Pugsley. 
“You’ll have so much fun.” Morticia says, with a smile, kissing her cheek and staining it slightly with her black lipstick.
“Define fun as boring and a punishment, sure,” Wednesday stiffly responds, yet softens as she looks at you. She takes her mother’s hand off her shoulder and approaches you.
“If you cry, it'll be raining all day. And you don't want it to be all gloomy for you? I don't want my socks wet. A poem, along with two pages written in a small font. One to express my day, and one to express that stupid love so you can sleep peacefully at night with nightmares.” Wednesday says, stopping for a moment, “sweet nightmares,” she adds.
You nod, yet your tear stained cheeks aren’t really helping, she reaches up and wipes it off with her thumb. Then let you hug her, you immediately bury yourself into her and she sighs.
“I’ll be thinking of you, till every grain of sand can be counted.”
You watch her approach the car, then slip in. She has the window scroll down, and you look at her. As the car engine roars, you bite your lip. And slowly watch it wheel away. Slowly jogging till it’s out of sight.
-
It’s been two weeks. And sure enough, Wednesday has kept her promise. She’s sent you letters you’ve kept in your drawer, they’re never repetitive, but always show you love. You like it like that, knowing that it isn’t a chore for her to write letters for you. If anything, they’ve lengthened in size as she's sent more and more.
It makes you miss her a little more. You have to hug your life-sized stuffed animal at night that she sprayed her perfume on. She also left half a bottle on your counter, just in case it runs out. Though it takes longer to sleep, it makes you feel a little better knowing there was something that was like a piece of her beside you.
Thing has visited you, and you know that little guy has a huge memory. You lost the letter you were going to hand Thing, and though you were a little sad, he moved his fingers and you realized you could speak to him for hours and he would tell Wednesday every detail. She had even wrote to you,
~
I owe Thing a thank you, yet he can be provoking at times. He had communicated to me for an hour, thirty minutes, and thirty two seconds about your day. I always wonder what secrets lay in the Addams Family. Yet I’m not quite comprehending why Thing has a big memory space.
Nonetheless, I think about you everyday. My roommate, Enid, has been unpleasant with her interesting taste of fashion and colors. It’s distracting. In a negative way. You’re distracting in a way where I can’t take my eyes off your enticing figure Y/N. Weems had bothered me the whole day, smothered me with questions and made sure I was doing fine. No wonder why mother got along with her so much. Those two are like the same person just one with smothered ink. But, something that sparked my particular interest was that you can dorm with two other people. Thing had told me that there was an accident at your school. If you’d like, which I’d appreciate, could ask your mother about transferring, say it’s dangerous. You aren’t a late wolfer, but convince her possibly that Nevermore can increase your chances. Wish you were here, I hate Mr. Tuesday. That white bunny is always staring at me during my typing time. But I can tolerate him a bit more, knowing you gifted it to me. You love Mr. Tuesday, so I appreciate your gesture. It’s not often I get visions, but they’ve almost made me want to experience them more. I see you in them, baking. Writing to me. It makes me almost happy.
Enid keeps trying to get to know me, she’s a strange soul, but she’s a werewolf, like you. You two are nothing alike, yet I think you two would get along a bit too much. Except you don’t blast random glitter pop music during the night. During my WRITING TIME. Even thinking about it rots my brain. But I miss you cariño. Sleep tight, I’ve left at least 300 things to hide in your house and you’ll never expect where they are. But everyone is special, it’ll make you at least smile a little when I tell you each night. Today’s item is snuck inside your bed, I used Mother’s chainsaw to cut through the wood, it’s a tiny version of Mr. Tuesday. I asked Thing the other day to sneak it in that spot and he sanded the wood back in. It should be a sort of door. But I crocheted it during my free time, there are times where I can’t think during my writing time. That is an understatement, but I only think of you. But I’m hoping you can enjoy it for today.
Love you, sleep cozily,
Weds
-
You smile as you look under your bed, now noticing the small outline from Wednesday’s chainsaw and you open the little compartment to see another crocheted white bunny of Mr. Tuesday. You nuzzle it and place it on your desk. You love him. You even spent a few minutes grabbing white yarn and attaching it to your tote bag.
You think about what Wednesday said, someone had gotten hurt in your school from being stabbed by a senior that was drunk. Obviously he didn’t mean it. But you had seen how anxious your mom got when she found out the news.
It was 11:23PM, and your mom’s room light was illuminated from the hallway. You get out of bed, ruffle your hair, and approach her room. Your only thought is Wednesday.
-
Before you could even ask, you already noticed her holding a black card, the logo of Nevermore Academy apparent. It said in bolded letters, 1965 Jericho’s long lasting Nevermore Academy. One for outcasts.
“Mom?” You said, your voice slowly quiet, and she looked up at you, waving you over.
“Hi honey,” she replies, “I’ve been thinking about the accident at your school. And I know you don’t like that place that much. And as much as I feel like I should keep you there. Your safety is important to me.”
Your excitement grows, you want to have that wide smile off your face.
“So?...” You question, wondering if she was saying what you were thinking she meant.
“And you keep bringing Wednesday up. So me and Morticia talked, and I talked with your father. We’re going to send you to Nevermore, but only if you want to. As long as you write to us every end of the week and call us. We want our little wolf to meet ones like her. It’s not often you find ones like us here.”
You nod.
“Yes!”
You didn't even think it would be that easy.
-
As soon as you get the news you squeal and call Wednesday early in the morning. She responds almost quickly, her voice on the other line, “What brings you to call me this early Y/N?”
“I’m transferring to Nevermore!” You say, you were much more excited but your tired voice betrayed you.
There’s a pause, then a small, “What?”
“I’m coming!”
A laugh and you can almost feel your girlfriend smiling with a toothy grin with her ear pressed to the phone.
“I knew your parents would let you go somehow,” she says, voice more excited, yet anyone else would not notice but you.
You can hear some rustling, “I’m going to ask Weems if you can dorm with me. I can kick Enid out for all I care, yet she isn’t horrible. Just, I’d rather spend it with you if she doesn’t allow a three dorm. Maybe I shouldn’t bring up a three dorm at all.”
“Thing, go back home and ask Father if Lurch can drive Y/N to Nevermore. Actually, include that if he won’t ask, I’ll shave his head off. Also make sure that he sprays two times of her favorite perfume, have her favorite sour candy ready, her headphones, her books, and tell him to pack some melon milk for her too. And her cow stuffie. Make sure he’s playing the playlist she made that’s saved in the car.”
There is a pause, and she makes a small, ‘oh oh’
“Baby,” Wednesday doesn’t call you that much, but when she does you’re over the moon. It usually shows that she’s happy. Really happy, yet her voice is still soft and composed, “I installed a door behind your clothes in your closet, guess we’ll unwrap the 300 presents when we go home. But I got another Mr. Tuesday there, he has some sort of costume on.” 
She pauses, you hear a random girl jumping up and down in the background, squealing about something as your girlfriend groans and presses her ear back into her phone, sending Enid an annoyed glare, “Pack your stuff, I’ll be waiting. I might as well cut my ears off if Enid won’t stop blabbing her mouth off.” You can tell that Wednesday turns her head to face her new roommate, she says louder, since Enid couldn’t hear her talking to you, “Better yet, slice her mouth off.” Then Enid’s squeals die down.
You grin through the phone as you grab out another version of Mr. Tuesday with a mushroom hat, you hug him tight.
The doorbell rings and you hear your mom open it, putting Wednesday on speaker phone.
“I’m almost done packing.”
“Y/N, honey. Mrs. Addams requests to see you,” your mother’s voice echoes through the hallway and you glance at the door.
You don’t know how Wednesday can hear it but she does, “I’m taking into conclusion that she received my message. Oh yes, she replied with those stupid icons. Yet it is one of a thorny rose and a gravestone.”
“Coming!” You stuff your bags, “Be right back.”
-
You almost choke as Morticia brings you into her embrace, hugging her back with an easing gentleness.
“Hello little one,” her soft voice says, the one you find comfort in as much as you do Wednesday’s. She gently rubs your hair, “I informed Lurch for your arrival, he’s outside whenever you’ll be ready dear. I’m so glad you decided to willingly join Nevermore. It has been a place that holds many memories. It’s where I met Gomez and fell in love. Maybe Wednesday and you can find the secrets in it. Go on journeys with her. Dig some graves, set them on fire."
It weird you out, but you smile, nodding, “To spend it with Wednesday is all I need.”
“You’re a special soul, a pure heart I can handle. Now go,” she waves you away, “Don’t keep him waiting for long.”
You give her one last grin and look over your shoulder before turning the corner.
-
After hanging up on Wednesday when you finish packing all your bags, your mother and father hug you goodbye and give you your favorite cranberry juice. Sweet.
It’s cozy in the Addams car, comfortingly with no talk, just the music Wednesday requested (forced) Lurch to play that lingers in your playlist. You feel like a butler with all the requests Wednesday smothered him with.
An hour passes and you can see the way the clouds slightly come into view, then you see the environment change as a sign that reads, “Welcome to Jericho! A Town of History”
Then, you finally see the academy in view, and Lurch arrives right in front, before taking your bags and guiding you to Principal Weems.
“It is my honor to have you here at Nevermore. This school has history, and where you’ll certainly grow,” her smile is wide, a little too welcoming it gets a little scary.
You just give small mumbles and nods, “Well, Morticia called me this morning and I quickly looked through your demographics. It also isn’t a coincidence that you have straight A’s. A 4.3 GPA. Many extracurriculars, and of course, you’re a werewolf. I see.”
“It is no surprise also that you had gone to the same school as another student who just enrolled, Morticia’s daughter, Wednesday. She sure is.. Different. But nonetheless talented. She had asked me yesterday afternoon if it was possible to have a dorm of three, and I’m assuming that you have been planning to dorm with her for the rest of the semester?”
She reads your mind, you immediately nod your head up and down, “Yes.”
“Well, most of the 3 dorms have been occupied, but her and Enid seem to have a slow relationship. I’ll have her in my office today, but by the end of the night or tomorrow morning I’ll give you my answer.” Weems scribbles on a note, writes some address and a name, “You’ll be rooming with Yoko, sound okay?”
You nod.
“Alright, I’ll call Enid up, for your guide.”
“..Guide?”
She nods, “Of course, we have many classes you can do, and people you can meet. She knows this place well, and I know that she’ll open up your shell.”
-
As Wednesday watches Enid leave, a soft grin forms on her face as she unties Thing from the random crocheted pink jacket Enid made for him.
Her eyes scan Enid as the door closes, then she turns to him, “I’m expecting Y/N is here. I’ve crocheted a questionable amount of Mr. Tuesdays.” She informs, “I shouldn’t have admitted that,” Wednesday sighs, as she pulls out the drawer next to her to reveal at least 40 assorted sizes of the same bunny. There were some in outfits, wigs. Wednesday almost finds it as therapeutic as her writing time. She crochets them whenever Enid leaves their dorm.
Thing smacks his head, and the braided girl glares at him, “Don’t judge me, I can cut off your fingers any time,” she threatens, seeing the way Thing surrendered with two fingers up in the air.
Then he moves around his fingers and does random hand movements.
“You think I’d follow Enid and try to make conversation with Y/N so much that Enid will get suspicious? You’d really think I’d do that?” 
Thing agrees.
“Then, you know me too well, let’s go.”
-
“Enid, glad you’re- Wednesday? It seems like you’ve tagged along,” Weems adds as she almost seems surprised, looking at her. If anything, the look in her eye is cautious.
“Yes,” Wednesday responds, trying to avoid the way your eyes almost smile as you look at her, but if anyone else were to look at you, they wouldn’t notice. “I’ve decided to accompany Enid, this is much more exciting than some other events at Nevermore,” she adds again, not entirely rude.
You sit in the middle while Wednesday takes the only left seat available, scooches her chair closer. Her hand rubs over yours after meeting under the covers of Weem’s desk. She takes note of how a small smile creeps on your face when Weem talks because of that.
“This is actually so awesome,” the blonde cheers next to you, making you turn your head and turn it, confused.
“We’re both werewolves silly! We should dorm 3 together! Wait, are there even any 3 dorms left?” When the principal shakes her head no, Enid sighs, “Then Wednesday can pair with Yoko. Actually, she barely even talks to Yoko, let alone handle her better than she’ll be able to handle me.”
You blink, glance at Wednesday for a moment and she shakes her head frantically.
“What if I dorm with her?”
The question leaves everyone silent, well everyone is surprised but Wednesday.
“You’d want to room with Wednesday while Enid rooms with Yoko?”
There's a lingering silence as you look around, “Why not? I'd like to get to know her better,” you lie. The most you want to do is get to talk to your girlfriend again.
"Oh. You don't want to, you know, get to know Wednesday before actually having to dorm with her?"
"Nope."
"Well, then that’s settled for your dorm. I’ll have to file Enid for a dorm change. But I’d like to ask if that is okay for both Wednesday and Enid.”
“Yes,” your girlfriend immediately responds, then coughs a little to cover up her excitement that’s masked behind her calm demeanor. “I can take a break from someone that is the complete opposite of me.
“I’d be happy to dorm with Yoko, at least I can have my music playing at night and my glitter-”
“My ears are bleeding Enid, don’t mention that word you just said.”
“Glitter?” Enid questions.
“No.”
You giggle from your girlfriend’s demeanor, squeezing her hand under the desk.
-
“This is Ophiela Hall! You don’t need to find your people here, you can make plenty of friends in other groups, but you have a group of werewolves! And what makes it even better is that we haven’t wolfed out!” Enid jumps up and down and you watch her legs bounce up and down, up and down. She’s like a whole party.
People give you two small looks, both you and Wednesday can tell they’re almost surprised she tagged along with someone whos new. It makes you smile a little.
Your girlfriend notices them whispering about you. Not anything bad, you seem like the sweetest person out of them all, but they’re whispering about the two of you. Even Bianca gives you a cautious look, but you’re too distracted to know what their saying as Enid keeps talking to you and dragging you along. Wednesday follows like a puppy.
“Enid, hey.” A boy speaks up, and you turn around at the new voice, he’s wearing blue and a beanie. The same tie everyone is wearing.
“Oh hi Ajax, this is Y/N. She’s new and I’m showing her around.”
A glare is thrown at Ajax as your girlfriend exhales. You give a small wave, “Hi.”
“You a werewolf too?”
You nod, seeing the way his hat kind of turns sideways, poking some peeking out snakes back into it. That’s scary.
The bell rings and you look around, confused, Enid grabs the paper you stuck in your bag.
“Oh, hey! Your next class is with Wednesday and I, it’s just plant anatomy with Thornhill. Come on.”
-
Somehow Wednesday gets Xaiver to move away from her, so now you’re sitting next to her.
“What the hell is this class?”
“Thornhill just talks about plants. The only entertaining aspect of this is that I like seeing Bianca fail to beat me. Though that goes in almost everything.”
The auburn hair girl turns around, with a wide smile and fairly big glasses for the size of her head.
“It’s a pleasure to have a new student, I’m glad to have you in our third period class Y/N.”
You embarrassingly smile, everyone looking at you, some with smiles and some with just small glances. 
“Could you give us the formula on how to turn this plant into a…” Thornhill goes on and you look at the plant, it seems it’s a Ghost Orchid.
You answer almost immediately, and Wednesday nudges you with her foot to almost say a ‘yay.’
Bianca stares at you as Thronhill clasps her hands together, “Exactly, you know your plants well. I’m sure you’ll excel here. Today we’ll have a change of assignments. It’ll be a challenge for duos against other duos and whoever answers first, and correctly for that fact, will earn a point till all the questions run out. Sound easy enough? Alright, let me get my cards ready.”
A knowing smirk grows in between you two, “We’ll win in no time,” Wednesday states, you look at the duos. It’s you and her, Enid and Yoko, Bianca and Divina, and other people you have no clue about, including Xaiver.
The game starts and before Thornhill can even get to the end of the question, you and Wednesday slap the bell, giving out the answer.
“Quick hands,” Xavier mumbles.
“That’s correct! Great job girls.”
The game goes on, and you’re tied with Bianca’s team. The silence can be cut with a knife as the two duos anticipately wait for the question. As Thornhill begins to read out the question, it takes you two a while to know the answer. Bianca and Divina seem stuck.
It’s several moments before the learning in your past catches up to you, slamming the bell and saying out the answer.
“Correct once again! You two win, great job! You can grab a succulent or stick to two pieces of candy that’s probably expired at the end of class.”
You and Wednesday high-five and to say the least, everyone is surprised because the braided-hair girl never let’s anyone touch her.
-
Weeks have past, and you’ve never been happier. Giving ideas for Wednesday’s stories that even she never thought about, helping her crochet more Mr. Tuesdays, so much that she had thing steal a laundry basket from Weem’s office, and even braid her hair and put black ribbons. She’s grateful to have you at Nevermore, her stories have been expanding because of you.
Your always stuck to her side, fencing playfully with her, even willing to go out in the woods with her. But she hasn’t went out since your arrival, knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave her side, and she certainly doesn’t want you getting hurt.
Even you and her worked together designing a matching cat on your black and white pajamas.
It’s fun when you two get to talk about life when you two are in your dorms, even better when you two are on the balcony and watching the stars. Wednesday plays the cello while you sing. She loves that she has someone that she puts her closed-off personality aside for.
“I love it, you look so pretty with bows baby,” you say, tying the ribbon.
“You look pretty with bows or without cara mia.” 
“Shut ‘p,” you say, smacking her arm lightly as she wraps her arms around you and rubs your hair.
It’s not long till Weems announce that it’s time for lunch.
Wednesday gets up, signalling you to come with her, but when you don’t, she comes back to sit next to you.
“I’m just looking for my necklace, you can go ahead, it won’t take long, promise.”
She sighs, and nods for a moment, then points at Thing, “Help her.”
Thing waves his hands as she blows a soft air kiss and closes the door.
-
It’s sprinkling a little bit when Wednesday is outside.
“How does Wednesday act so non-hazardous with Y/N? It’s honestly impressive.”
“That’s not impressive, how the hell does she not smack her or give her glares? Do you not see the way her eyes actually look normal when she looks at her? Not even normal, they’re gentle! Plus she was the first to go run and get a bandaid when Y/N accidentally got a paper cut.”
It’s like they summoned the girl, who’s holding a plate of her lunch.
Enid smiles and Wednesday sits down, looking at everyone.
“Are you seriously speaking about me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We want to know why the hell you are actually sweet with Y/N.”
“You could’ve used any word besides sweet.”
“Baby-like?”
“Even worse.”
“Don’t dodge the question,” Bianca adds, somehow now being in this conversation, “You killed the biggest spider that was crawling to her, for her.”
“She doesn’t like spiders. Who wouldn’t use not being afraid of spiders to protect someone who is?”
Bianca blinks, then wrinkles her nose, “If it was me you’d certainly let it bite me.”
“Well that’s different.”
Everyone at the table groans, “Exactly!”
“What did I tell you?”
“The only person you’d not let it bite is Y/N, we just want to know why.”
“I’m protecting her because she’s my girlfriend.”
Everyone turns their head to her, “What?”
Enid slams her fists to the table, “I fucking knew it. I knew it! Ajax, you owe me five dollars. I CALLED IT.”
“The Wednesday Addams actually has a girlfriend?”
“Why didn’t we catch on?”
“They’re kinda cute together- don’t even speak or she’ll actually cut your head off if you say cute.”
Everyone is arguing with each other, going crazy. But by the time they cool down and look at where Wednesday was sitting, her seat is empty.
Then everyone looks around and sees her draping her black jacket over your tiny figure, she pulls you closer to her chest as you hold onto her. (Let’s say she’s atleast 4 inches taller than 5’1 in this.) You tug her big jacket over your shoulders as you hug her. She holds onto you and guides you to the table, kissing your forehead and brushing your damp hair.
Even when she comes back, she bends down and takes the butterfly that’s resting on your hair and places it on your hand. “I heard somewhere that if a butterfly lands on you, it means that they see you as a beautiful flower.” 
“I never heard that before.”
“I know, I made that up.”
Everyone starts screaming again, making your girlfriend and your heads snap at them.
“Look at them!”
“Aw! So cute!”
“I want to say this is disgusting but they’ll be my roman empire soon enough.”
You turn back to her, seeing her eyes soften, almost happily, "You told them?”
“I didn’t know why they didn’t conclude to that in the beginning.”
Bianca groans, rolling her eyes as everyone is screaming, then Xavier chimes in. "Back to that spider scenario. I definitely think Wednesday would kill it for me."
You glare at him, clinging onto your girlfriend a little more like a koala. She rubs your back as you tighten your arms around her.
"Your sense of self-love is filled with stupidity. I'd kill the spiders that are harmless to you and leave the ones that are most venomous and ugly looking for people like you."
Xavier goes quiet, making a defeated grunt.
Everyone does their little, 'awws' again. You turn to her, now that everyone knows about your status.
“At least we can kiss in the hallways?”
“Maybe save that for the dorms.”
“Can we kiss right now?”
Wednesday’s eyebrows lift up, and she sighs, turning you away from the group and giving you a light kiss, as your lips press together, she nudges a small Mr. Tuesday now with inverted colors, a black bunny. They're both holding hearts and have a star over their head.
"Now Mr. Tuesday has a Mr. Wednesday," she says softly, tucking her black jacket tighter around you as you continue hugging her.
"And Miss. Y/L/N has a Miss. Addams."
427 notes · View notes
norizz-nation · 2 days
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Hi there! Could I request a Dominant Max smut with a virgin fem reader? They've been friends for a while and then one slightly tipsy night leads to something more? Thanks!
Cherry Sundress | M.V1
Summary: Can friends really be something more? Well only if it’s dark desire.
Warnings: nsfw, 18+
You’ve been friends with Max for a few years now. You must admit that he’s the most sweetest person you’ve ever met. He somehow makes you feel safe. He’s the reason why you’re not insecure anymore, about anything. He’s like this ray of light that changed your whole life.
You love him. Of course you love him. You love the way his eyes smile even when he’s trying to hide it. You love the way he bites his lips when you crack flirty jokes with him. You love the way his eyes scream ‘I love you’ to you.
Those eyes.
Those ocean blue eyes.
You love them.
You love the way he’s so effortlessly funny. You love the way he’s so graceful. You love the way his body looks when he’s wearing nothing but shorts. You love thinking about him when you get yourself off. You love this lustful desire you have for him.
But you’re not sure if you’re loving your current situation.
His big hands softly brushing your waist. Looking down at your body so fondly as if you’re the most prettiest girl he’s ever seen.
“Your waist looks so small when I have my hands wrapped around it.” His words were a bit louder than a whisper yet not enough for you to hear it properly.
His hands found their way up, lifting your sundress and revealing your red panties. “So, red because you have cherries all over your little dress?” He asked smirking like a devil as he tugged on your panties.
Your thighs rubbed together as you stopped his hands from pulling it down. “Nervous, huh?” He asked, pushing your hand away.
You nodded your head as you looked down. Too shy to make eye contact. Max smiled lightly and whispered in your ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You’ll never want another guy’s touch after I’m done with you.”
He then kissed your cheek and went lower down to kiss your neck. You couldn’t help but tug on his hair and pull his head closer to you. You were dying to feel his lips on yours.
“Please…” You pleaded, not even knowing what you’re pleading for. Maybe because you want to kiss him so bad. You’re too drunk to even think about it right now. So is he.
His lips brushed against your neck then went up to your jaw. You gasped softly when he finally kissed you.
It felt like you’re melting for him. You could taste the wine on his tongue which made you squirm a little. Your hands uncontrollably traveled their way through his body. Feeling every little muscle tense for you.
You whined when he pulled away from kissing you. “You can take it, right schatz?” He breathlessly asked as he pulled your panties down. You nodded desperately, wanting him to touch you already. However he wants to touch you.
You bit on your lower lip, trying your best to hold back your moan when you felt him slowly rub his fingertip on your clit. “You like that, huh?” He teasingly asked and you nodded, not being able to speak.
“I can tell, because you’re so wet right now. Did I make you this wet, schatz?” He asked while rubbing on your clit lightly. “Y-yes, you did. It’s only for you.” You replied to him.
“Okay schatz this might hurt a little but I promise it’ll feel good later. Can you do this for me?” He asked, making sure that you’re okay with it. You nodded, assuring him that you can take it.
He murmured a ‘good’ while he slowly pushed his middle finger inside of you. His curled finger inside you made you grip on the bedsheets. “Oh fuck.” You moaned out as he smirked at you.
“Fuck, more please Max.” You pleaded and Max raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you sure sweetheart?” He asked and you desperately nodded again.
“Please, I wanna feel you inside of me.” You said as you whined out. Max suddenly grabbed your wrist and made you feel his bulge through his jeans. Your mouth hung open when you felt his hard bulge almost ripping his jeans. “You sure your little pussy can take all of this, schatz?” He asked teasingly.
“Yes, I can.” You said, not being sure if you actually can or not. But it doesn’t matter. All you want is his touch.
A/N: I’m sorry if it’s not that much of dominant Max. But still, hope yall like it. As always, requests are open so feel free to ask what you want me to write. I love you. ❤️
418 notes · View notes
81folklore · 2 days
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i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid
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parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi
summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no on had any idea how bad they were struggling
notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!
notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!
masterlist
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march 2024
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charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp
i have been waiting for YEARS
max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.
lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???
alex be glad he doesnt use captials
oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him
max ???
lando anyway
yn mate you ok?
yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am
lando yeah but usually your not single
lewis oh no! you and jacob split?
yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore
charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣
yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising
fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!
yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost
fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!
yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?
lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???
yourname cheers ill get on now
george let us know if you need anything!
may 2024
yourusername
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liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others
p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!
thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️
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mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*
landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate
yourusername same time next race?
user33 loved seeing you back on the podium
user2 absolutely smashing it this season
user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*
user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*
twitter
*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*
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august 2024
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liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others
did some reading, painting and writing
baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️
view comments
user66 AHHHHHH
yourusername ahhhhhhh
user26 cats name plsplspls
yourusername norman🐱
lukehemmings nice music👍
yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!
mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium
yourusername always!!!!
user74 have you had funnnn??
yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋
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*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*
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october 2024
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liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others
p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased
huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️
view comments
user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*
user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud
yourusername ⭐️⭐️
gracieabrams woop woop!!!!
yourusername 😝😝
user2 gracie??
user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕
user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!
yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot
user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)
yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)
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november 2024
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liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others
tagged: taylorswift
i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album
im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before
i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life
send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)
comments have been limited
taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍
yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️
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yourusername added to their story
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seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others
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charles i feel completely betrayed yn
fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?
charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??
AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️
yourname sorry charles, surprise?!
charles ill forgive you because its a good song
yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!
yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️
yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!
lando I LOVE IT TOO
but seriously are you ok?!
yourname yeahhh im better now
was just a lot to navigate
lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us
yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do
alex yn was that twitter thread right?
yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate
alex user56tweetlink
yourname oh pretty much yeah
some things were changed with taylor but not much
fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!
yourname thank uu
max good song yn!
now
lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!
oscar max is kind of scary
max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!
409 notes · View notes
jq37 · 1 day
Text
Your sister who you love so much (even though you’ve never shown it) asks you to be her sister again, her true sister, in deed not just in name. And yes, of course that’s what you want. That’s what you’ve always wanted and now that she’s shattered your defenses and destroyed the ones who would pit you against each other and died right before your eyes, how could you refuse? How could your answer be anything but yes?
So you go home with her, not the ruins of your perfectly posh prison, but a new home which provides love and care and bunk beds and it’s so so nice. Ridiculously nice. Sickeningly nice. And a small, sick part of you almost misses your old home (if you can even call it a home) because yes, it was cruel and awful and you hated every second of it but you knew where you fit. You knew what your role was. You don’t fit in here. Everyone accepts you because they’re all so nice, but they don’t know how to volley back your sharp words or find a hidden, “I love you” within an offhanded insult. 
And then your sister leaves to save the world again because that’s who she is. She’s the kind of person who goes out to save the world with her friends when she’s needed and you’re not. You’re not, not, not. Not on any count. You don’t save things, you destroy them. And friends? You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable for friends so of course that’s out. Your sister is 16 and she’s out saving the world for the third time and you, fully grown at 18, are a wanted criminal who hasn’t even properly graduated from high school. You can’t stop thinking about it and, without your sister and her friends occupying the house as a buffer, the ones who are left try to get you to talk about it so you make a rash decision, as you are wont to do. You leave, like a thief in the night. You can make your own way. You can. You’ll prove it.
You find a shitty apartment and pay for it with the ill-gotten spoils from one of your many exploits. You could probably pawn some treasure for more luxurious  accommodations–there is that chest of rubies just lying around–but you don’t. That’s not what you deserve. And what if your sister needs help later? You don’t have access to your parental funds anymore which means she doesn’t either. You know she won’t ask anyone for help–you wouldn’t. But someone has to look after her. You’re an abjuration wizard. You protect people. You protect her. No, that’s a lie. But you want to make it not a lie. You want to start now.
If you’re saving the rubies then you need a source of income. You narrow down your least villainous talents to try and find a suitable job and hit on teacher. You’re good at magic, right? So how hard can teaching it be? Hopefully not as hard as securing the job, which proves trickier than expected because, oh right, you’re a wanted criminal who hasn’t graduated high school. But you dip into your villainous talents once more and tell yourself it’s for a good cause. You secure the job. You’re doing it. You’re making your own way. 
You want to text your sister to see if she’s doing alright but you don’t want to intrude and you don’t want to answer any questions about what you’ve been doing because then either you’ll have to lie or explain that you’ve left again, right after you promised you’d be there. Both options make your heart ache, especially since it’s her birthday. So you wait until the house is empty (mostly empty–you’re never really alone in a haunted house) and enter the room you and your sister shared for too brief a time. You paint her walls with carefully rendered runes, filled with all your abjuration magic and stamped with your arcane mark. It’s a possessive bit of spellcraft. A selfish claiming of a climactic kill. You mean to make a different kind of claim. You are claiming your sister, as she asked you to months ago. You are telling the world that she will not be fucked with while you live. Your rooms were so close before. You could hear her. You knew every night she went to bed in the grips of a panic attack with no one to console her. She won’t have to feel unsafe in her own room again. You can make sure of that at least. 
The sun rises one morning and you know that means your sister is alive and well and coming home. You teleport to Falinel to make sure she returns to her favorite dessert. It’s worth the spell slot and the chance of being recognized. The tower where they kept you is long destroyed and you know that this time, if you were ever captured or even killed, rescue wouldn’t be measured in a matter of months. It would be days. Hours even if your clever sister and her powerful divination magic put things together faster. The thought fills you with more emotion than you know what to do with. You leave a note. “I love you,” you think. “Enjoy the nemesis ward,” you write. 
Practicing magic, as it turns out, is a very different skill than teaching magic. The children are loud and obnoxious and you don’t quite realize that maybe your expectations are too high between the hothouse you grew up in and your sister being the world’s greatest diviner, fullstop. You know you can always go back to the manor, but that somehow makes it easier to stick it out. You’ve always been taught that pressure provides the best results but there’s something about the security of a safety net that makes everything a bit more bearable. And so what if you have to take a second job involving a light criminal element. You’re only smuggling–that’s barely even a real crime.
Your sister who has saved the world thrice now, texts you and she wants help. She is looking to you for help. And you do your best to oblige. You offer your knowledge, you offer your rubies, you invite her over again and again. She sends you a text and deletes it. You’re not the diviner in the family but you drain your spell slots scrying for information you already know. Information that you'll hear from her own lips in just a few hours. “I love you.”
She finally visits and you’re not unaware of the state of your apartment. You know you’ve been too exhausted for an Unseen Servant or even a round of Prestidigitations but you know that your sister has seen your mind and there’s nothing messier about you than that. She teases you and you tease her back. She’s the only one who understands how to deliver a complement with a backhand so you can receive it without your skin crawling. The only one who knows how much tartness you need with your sweetness. 
Later, she visits again. She sits in your filthy apartment and you watch trash TV and it’s the highlight of your week. Your month even. That should feel pathetic but, somehow it doesn’t. You want to tell her. She deserves to hear it from time to time without having to filter out the layers of prickliness that you add as second nature, a layer of armor as ever present as your abjurer’s ward. You may not be able to handle naked sentiment but she can. You’ve seen her with her friends. How affectionate they are. You’ve always been taught that loose lips sink ships but you have experience with ship sinking and this prospect fills you with much less dread. You tell her and it’s awkward and fumbling but you manage. Maybe loving people isn’t so different from loving cats.
You have a new job which is perfect because the school year is almost over and, blackmail or no, you aren’t sure how many times you’ll be able to get away with casting Sleep on your class to give yourself a break. Honestly, you should have applied for jobs in Leviathan from the start. Why would pirates care about your sketchy history and lack of credentials? You could teleport yourself to Leviathan every day but that would be a waste of a spell slot when the door to Leviathan is right there in the manor (and if your sister happens to be there too then hey, happy coincidence). While you’re there, you might as well do your laundry. And stay for dinner from time to time. And spend time with your sister in your her room where your runes stand sentinel and your old bunk lays untouched. You don’t think you’re staring but later, as you go to grab a snack from the kitchen your sister throws you a casual, over the shoulder glance. 
“You can just move back in, if you want.”
And would it really be that easy? Just like that? After a year of trying to make a point or a plan or a better version of yourself or whatever? Just like that? 
You remember a year ago. You and your sister and words that will be burned into your mind forever. 
“Despite the fact that you have not earned it, I do love you.”
Just like that. 
You say yes. You stay. 
320 notes · View notes
ianyoa · 1 day
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SOMETHING SUPER SWEET
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jjk men x baker f!reader wc: 757 featuring: satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, choso kamo, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu.
summary ; jjk men headcannons with a baker girlfriend !
Satoru Gojo LOVES the fact that you can bake. Coming back to a sweet treat is like a dream come true. If you’re having insecurities about trying something new out, he’s the first to reassure you that it’s already perfect on the first go. He loves watching you bake when there’s downtime. Whenever you’re distracted he likes to dip his finger into the batter and have an early taste… which leads into a spoonful, then another, and another. Next thing you know, you’re giving Satoru a slice of cake while he’s in bed with a stomach ache because he insists he’s TOTALLY fine and doesn’t want it to go to waste. 
Suguru Geto claims to be indifferent. He comes over and sees a brownie, he’ll only eat it because “you made them.” Truth is, he loves them so, so much. After a full day of having to take in awful curses, there’s nothing better than having something delicate that his sweet girlfriend made. Maybe one day he’ll vocally express his love for them, but you already tell how much he enjoys them by the look in his eyes when he comes back to the smell. 
Nanami Kento, being the man he is, helps you. He loves coming back to see you midway through baking. Doesn’t matter if he’s tired, he’ll wash his hands and jump right in with you. He loves it when you make bread together. It’s perfect for him to pack it up for his lunch the next day. He doesn’t lean towards sweets, maybe having a bite or two and leaving the rest for you. But the second you make croissants, muffins, biscuits, you name it.. he’s thinking about the perfect time to propose. 
Choso Kamo is amazed. Seriously, like.. how is this possible? He gets a little nervous whenever you tell him to join you, he just doesn’t want to screw up since you always do it perfectly. Choso ends up enjoying it a lot! He gets happy whenever it starts forming together. One thing he loves doing, decorating the cookies after. You give him a couple of piping bags with different icings and a tray of sprinkles and he’s sitting there for who knows how long trying to make it look perfect for you. He loves watching you bake, not just staring at the dough as you make it from nothing to something, but the look on your face once it’s complete and you’re satisfied.
Yuji Itadori takes pride in having a girlfriend who can bake. Every time you make something, you’ll always have to make extras so he can take it for his friends. Gives them to others with the biggest smile on his face saying that you were the one who made them. He’s quite literally your number-one fan. Encourages you to open some sort of shop, even if you claim it’s just a hobby, so he can pass on the delight of these sweets to others. Everyone has to know what a real dessert tastes like! But you always have to make sure that there’s plenty left for him.
Megumi Fushiguro doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t go out of his way to ask for anything but if you offer, sure he’ll take some. As long as it’s not anything insanely sweet, he quite enjoys it. Loves it when you make something with dark chocolate though. He drinks black coffee of course he wouldn’t mind some dark chocolate cookies or something simple like a fruit coated in dark chocolate. Whenever you do manage to get him to eat something a little more on the sweeter side, he never complains. It’s something that you made. He claims to never say anything against it because that would be rude but really, it’s the only sweet thing he’ll ever fully enjoy without complaining. 
Yuta Okkotsu enjoys making sweets for you! It started when one day you gave him a cupcake as a treat for the stress that he’s endured, then the next day he gives you a 2 tiered cake. This man will always give you something in return. Sure he might’ve never considered the idea of baking but once you two started dating and he saw how much you enjoyed it, he started practicing so one day you two can do it together. It slowly became normal for you two to make each other something every once in a while. Sure his baking might be really good, but he claims that he’ll never reach your level. There’s something about your sweets that makes his day instantly better.
⁺ ﹒ ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ა ﹒ ✦﹒ ໒꒱ ‧ ₊ ˚ ﹒ ⁺
notes ; i wrote this because i was watching a baking show LMAOO
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moonstruckme · 3 days
Note
I recently found ur page and omfg I spent hours yesterday reading all ur work!!!! What a lil fic of Sirius and reader but like pre relationship where she's in the hospital (u can pick reason) and she refuses to see anyone and just asks for Sirius
Thanks for requesting my love!
cw: hospital, mention of stitches
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 906 words
Sirius feels awkward and stiff as he pulls back the curtain, though for all he knows you’re too hopped up on pain meds to even know it’s him. Really, that’s the only reasonable explanation for the directions the nurse had just delivered: “She said she’ll only see Sirius right now.” 
He has no clue why you’d ask for him. He’s probably the least comforting of your roommates, and as soon as he catches sight of you, knees tented in front of your chest and hands clasped around your ankles, his worry for your choice deepens. 
Someone’s tried to clean you up, but they’ve done a shit job of it. There’s still blood crusted on your chin, and your face is blotchy, your cheeks smeared with dark gray like you’d wiped across them with your hands only to spread your makeup off to the sides. James had said you’d cried the whole car ride to A&E, but Sirius still wasn’t prepared to see you like this. His chest feels hollow and achy. 
“Hey,” you say, voice scratchy. If hearts have strings, you’re playing his like a fiddle. 
“Hey, doll.” He goes for a smile as he sits on the edge of your little cot, managing to sound halfway normal. “Come here often?” 
You start to grin, then stop like it hurts. Sirius stops, too. 
“Yeah, you know,” you say, “now and then.” 
“Don’t see why.” He makes a show of looking about him, at the papery blue curtain and beige-ish linoleum floors. “Place is sorta depressing.” 
You roll your eyes, and Sirius’ heart lightens to see you in a better humor. “Yeah, I think I’ve judged my hangout poorly. I’m dying to get out of here.” 
He’ll bet. You’ve been here hours longer than him. James had been the only one home with you when you’d tripped on the stairs and bitten through your lip, and Sirius and Remus had only found out when they’d gotten home and seen the note James left, his already scribbly handwriting worsened by haste and panic. By the time they’d arrived they’d missed most of the action (Sirius was secretly thankful for that) and James had filled them in before the nurse had come out to inform them that you’d gotten three stitches in your lip and summoned Sirius back. 
“I can understand that.” He gives you his best approximation of James’ easygoing grin. “You ready to go home then, gorgeous?” 
The shift is slight, but Sirius sees your bravado fade, a shyness entering your expression. “That’s actually why I wanted to see you,” you say.
“Yeah?” He doesn’t bother to hide his curiosity. “Why’s that?” 
“Because I know you’ll be honest with me.” 
He feels his eyebrows go up. “About what, doll?” 
You shrink a bit, knees drawing closer to your chest. Your voice is small when you ask, “Is it awful? I mean, do I look awful?” 
Ah. Sirius can see why you’d want him for this, but you’re wrong in your assumption. He’d absolutely lie to you if he needed to, just like Remus or James would in his place. But you’ve asked for him, so Sirius tries to do right by you. 
“You could never look awful, dollface. Be sensible.” He squints his eyes teasingly, reaching for your ankle and giving it a reprimanding little shake. “It’s just a couple of stitches, you haven’t been warped unrecognizable.” 
You frown, and it’s even more upsetting than usual. Your eyes look heart-breakingly insecure. “Are you sure?” you ask softly. 
“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” Sirius scoffs like you’re unbelievable. “You said it yourself, babe, I wouldn’t lie to you.” He definitely would, but there’ll never be an occasion for that. He can’t imagine you genuinely looking bad. “I can clean you up a bit, though, if you’d like.” 
You blink. “Um, yeah. If you think it would help.” 
“Brilliant. Sit tight.” Sirius gets up and starts going through drawers, sifting through medical supplies for something he can use. 
“Fairly sure you’re not supposed to do that.” You sound like you’re trying not to smile. 
“Fairly certain my taxes pay for this place, and they’ve left my best-looking roommate with a dirty face.” He finds a box of mini-wipes, turning back to you. “Don’t tell James I’ve said that.” 
“Oh, I’m definitely tattling on you,” you tease, and Sirius is caught between feeling triumphant and worried that you look very near to grinning. He has no clue how easy it is to tear your stitches. 
“What, you want us to match? That’s cruel, sweetheart.” 
You roll your eyes. “He won’t punch you.” 
Sirius huffs a laugh, holding you still with a hand on your jaw as he wipes gently at your chin. “You haven’t known him as long as I have.” 
Your brows flick up as you meet his eyes, disbelieving. “Our James? You really think our James would hit you for saying he’s not the best looking roommate?” 
“Well, not if you’re in front of me,” he muses. He throws out the first wipe, ripping open another. “He already feels bad for you, so maybe that can work in my favor. If you are going to tell him, lean on me as we walk out, okay, doll? Give me a fighting chance.” 
The corner of your lips twist as you close your eyes and Sirius wipes sideways across your cheek. “Yeah, fair enough. I’ll do my best for you.”
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ghouljams · 2 days
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What Once Was
A perspective shift, a pause, a brief respite before doubt takes hold again. Android!Ghost feels his heart beat.
You grew up in Manchester, or at least you had a job out there. You don’t like thinking about “growing up.” As far as you’re concerned you’ve been doing this your whole life. Fixing things. You had a job, an apprenticeship, with a bot mechanic at one of the industrial plants. You’d taught yourself coding, but at risk of electrocution you’d found someone to teach you the rest. It was hard, but the work was rewarding. You were young, but unlike people, bots care more about the results than how long a doctor has been a doctor. They didn’t ask questions, they didn’t know they should have. 
The area was rough, you always liked the industrial parts of town, but even you could admit the place had seen better days. There was this old butcher shop. Real old school, but people like that. Meat tastes better when it’s cut by human hands, you’d heard someone say once. And there was this kid working there, Simon, he couldn’t have been much older than you. You saw him on your lunch breaks sometimes. You shared your sandwich with him.
He smiled sometimes, more than you would have thought given everything you knew about him. He liked working with his hands, you got that. He liked being away from home, you got that too. He never called you crazy when you talked about bots like they were people. He was sweet, you liked that about him. 
He disappeared one day, without saying goodbye. You figured that was just what happened to people who lived like you two did. You didn’t even bother with a police report. Maybe you should have.
-
You still sit with your knees pulled up to your chest when you’re working on small parts. Your brows still furrow the way they did when you were a teenager. Ghost watches you flip down your magnifier over your eyes and remembers teasing you about needing glasses from squinting too much. You still blow the dust out of old cartridges and stick them into your arsenal of wires just to listen to the technicolor drone of ancient video games while you work.
“Just the music,” you’d told him years and years ago, “it helps me focus.”
You’re exactly the same, and yet you’re so unfathomably different. Or maybe he’s different. Different in the ways that matter most, in the ways that mean you’ll never recognize him. It’s better like this. He’s been through too much to be the sort of man you deserve. Barely a man at all, really.
That doesn’t stop him from circling you, like a moth to a flame, or a weary soldier to the comfort of home. He finds himself in your workshop with repairs that aren’t repairs, with injuries that he’s never been bothered by before. Ghost sits and lets you run diagnostics, lets you poke and prod at his gears, and he never says a word. Never mentions that you still look beautiful in work lights, that you shouldn’t hold your tweezers in your mouth because you always pinch your lip, that you’re still you even when he isn’t sure he’s still himself. He never mentions that he has a million things he’s never told you, that he wanted to tell you but never got the chance to. 
He thinks them sometimes: when he’s watching you work, when you smile up at a bot warmly, when you ask him what’s wrong, when you start walking towards him before you even know what he needs, when you lay your hands on him and he flips every sensor to try and feel your warmth. He thinks that he loves you, that no matter how little of him is left he’ll always love you. He could love you with nothing, with bare circuits and white matter, and that would be enough to keep him going.
It was enough to keep him going. It isn’t anymore. Not when you’re here, so close and still a thousand miles away. Not when you don’t recognize him, when you don’t see the scrawny kid from Manchester in the corded steel and dense circuitry. 
Did you think of him when he left? Did you worry? It always felt melancholic, said as a joke that neither of you laughed at: it’s gonna kill me one day, this world’s gonna kill me. Was that what you thought happened? When you knew about his father, when he sat down for lunch with fresh bruises and a split lip, did you think that’s what happened when he didn’t show up the next day? Did you mourn him?
He should have taken you with him. Sixteen. Young enough to kill for a living, but still too young to save you. He couldn’t save anyone, couldn’t even save himself. 
They shouldn’t have put him back together.
Not if it meant he’d see you again.
Not if it meant you’d look at him like this,
Like nothing.
Repairs that aren’t repairs. Injuries that never bothered him before. Diagnostics. Circling. He knows it will burn him, he can feel the heat, but he can’t stop. Androids aren’t supposed to feel. Men aren’t supposed to be metal. And you don’t love him.
Not anymore.
(If you ever did.)
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i2sunric · 24 hours
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𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 (l.hs)
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pairing: gamer!heeseung x reader (f)
summary: heeseung neglects you just to play his stupid game, so you try to relieve your frustration by humping his pillow— how you ended up riding his dick, you’re not sure.
warnings: smut. masturbating, pillow humping, riding, dirty talking, pet names (baby, slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap up your willy!), creampie, breeding kink, kinda cnc at the ending, if more Imk. NOT PROOFREAD
published: 25th April 2024
wc: 1.9k
tag list: @jaeyunsbimbo
a/n: guess who should be writing for the project but hasn’t even finished writing one scene? me! anyways, hope you’ll enjoy this gamer heeseung drabble and let me know your thoughts! REBLOG & LIKE PLS! maybe part 2?
When Heeseung and you first started hanging out, everyone started mistaking your friendship for dating. Or maybe, that was exactly what Heeseung wanted.
He was so possessive of you, always giving death stares to anyone who dared to land their eyes on your bare legs or exposed chest from your skirts and tops; spoiling you rotten, literally buying you anything you wanted without even having to ask.
But you were not less, getting jealous of anyone who approached him, even scaring girls away. You were as crazy as him.
It wasn’t something you two addressed verbally, just a mutual feeling. Perhaps it was attraction or something more, neither of you wanted to label it.
Something you would really love to verbalise, though, was the way Heeseung had been playing his stupid game for two straight hours without even glancing back at you from his chair.
You were sitting on his bed, legs crossed together as you absentmindedly scrolled through your socials— but even that had become boring. You sighed heavily and dropped your phone on the mattress, stretching your sore limbs.
“Hee?” You asked but was only met back with the sound of keyboard taps and a few shouts so loud you could hear them from the earphones your best friend was wearing.
“Heeseung.” You said again, this time a little louder, “Mh?” He asked, still not turning around to even glance at your face.
“Stop playing and spend some time with me.” You nagged, brows knitting in an annoyed frown “Just ten more minutes.” He murmured back.
“Now.” You crossed your arms at your chest “Come on Y/N, I’m almost done, damn.”
You waited for him to say something more, however he just resumed the battle, occasionally hissing but never shouting at the screen, knowing how much it bothered you.
Your eyes landed on his arms, bare from the sleeveless shirt he was wearing, the veins showing every time he taped a new button, hands so perfect as if they were shaped from a goddess.
You gulped, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together. It wasn’t the first time you had such weird fantasies about Heeseung, it was no lie he was drop dead gorgeous, though sometimes you wished he’d see you as more.
The way he treated you, the way he scared anyone who ever dared to breathe your same air— it just fuelled your filthy and contorted desires. However, when he played his games he always seemed to forget about you— which frustrated you a lot.
You palmed your breasts through the fabric of the loose shirt, your nipples hardening and poking, their outline showing. Your gaze fell on his clenched jaw, wondering if he’d have the same face while fucking you, filling you up with his load.
Impatient, you reached for his pillow, the one he usually put his head to sleep on, the thought turning you on even more and sat down on it, your clothed core stroking against it. You moved your hips back and forth at a sweet rhythm, letting out soft hums when your clit rubbing made you feel a warm feeling in your stomach.
You closed your eyes, imagined you were riding Heeseung’s face, his pointed nose poking your clit while his warm tongue fucked your cunt, burying himself deeper in between your thighs.
“Seriously?” Your actions were abruptly stopped by a deep groan, your eyes shot open and there Heeseung was, manspreading on the chair now turned around to face you, his gaze so dark and piercing.
“Acting like a fucking needy slut?” He chuckled bitterly, “You know my mic was on, right? Everyone heard you moaning.” He tsked mockingly.
Your hips kept moving, your head threw back “Just wanted your attention.” Your hoarse voice went straight to his cock, hardening against his grey sweats.
He glanced at you, his stare piercing. You looked straight out of his night fantasies, the way you were grinding on his pillow, your sweet scent intoxicating it. He removed his earphones and palmed his clothed hard on.
“Keep going.” He ordered and you complied, your mind too cloudy to leave space for shake. After all, that was what you both wanted the most “Show me how you’d ride my cock, baby.”
The pet name made your stomach fill with butterflies, you gripped the pillow and moved almost manically on it, the sound of the bed squeaking filling the room.
“Did you want everyone to hear you?” He asked, still palming his cock “Mh? Did you want all my friends to hear your moans?”
You shook your head “No,” You breathed out, slowing your movements “Only you.”
“Fuck,” He cursed, his cock twitching in his boxers “Raise your shirt, let me see your tits.”
You let out a soft hum and did as he asked, raising your shirt, hooking it under your chin to squeeze your breasts and show it to him “So perfect,” He almost dropped at the sight, “And so mine.” He growled.
“Heeseung—“ You panted, your eyes half lidded “Hee… m’so close.” Your movements were sloppy, signalling that your orgasm was about to hit you.
“Don’t cum,” He ordered, “Don’t fucking cum, stop.” and you stopped, your eyes red from your denied orgasm.
His eyes softened, your fucked up state was too much for him, your sweaty forhead and panting breath— Hell, he was going to ruin you.
“Come here.” He patted his laps and you nodded, getting up from the bed, stumbling a little as you reached him. You sat down on his laps, his big hands securing your waist.
“Isn’t this better?” He asked, making your body grind on his clothed bulge, your wetness seeping through the fabric “Fuck baby— you’re so wet.”
You let out a shaky breath, your eyes closing when his lips connected to your neck, leaving wet kisses “Do you want me to fuck you?” He whispered.
“Yes,” you breathed out “Yes Hee, please.” He smirked at your pleads and raised you up, just enough to pull down his sweats and boxers. His cock sprung free, red and so hard.
You widened your eyes, you had always known he’d be thick since the shadow of his bulge always appeared when he worked out or went to swim, but you had never imagined it’d be that huge.
“Like what you see, mh?” Heeseung smirked, his hand sneaking on the back of your head to fist your hair, making you look up at him “Answer me.”
Wetness pooled on your panties at his rough and dominant voice, you nodded “Yes.”
“Good girl,” He let go of your hair and helped you out of your own pants, leaving you only in your loose shirt and underwear.
His breath hitched, biting his bottom lip “You’re so perfect,” He raised your shirt, hooking it on itself so you wouldn’t have to keep it in your hand.
Heeseung inched closer and took your tit in his mouth, sucking and biting on your nipple. You breathed heavily, one hand caressing the little hair he had on the back of his neck, nails almost digging in it.
He detached from your breast and kissed his way up to your neck, licking and nibbling. He reached your lips and took them into a hungry kiss, so passionate. You moaned when you felt his fingers hook your panties to the side, the cold air of the room hitting your core, making it clench around nothing.
“So eager to be fucked dumb.” Heeseung growled, guiding you on his cock. You put your hands on his broad shoulders as you slowly went down, the mushroom tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds.
You hissed when the tip entered your pussy, stretching you so good. You were no virgin, but no guy you ever had sex with was as big as Heeseung,
He held your waist tightly, helping you until you were all down, bottoming out. He cursed under his breath, your warm cunt hugging his shaft so perfectly he could almost cum right there “Shit baby- you feel so good.”
He started guiding you up and down on his cock, not really leaving you any place to do what you wanted, using you as if you were a sex doll. And you honestly lived for it “H-Hee… S’good.”
His big hands wrapped around your waist and you hid your face on the crook of his neck, moaning out his name. You could smell the scent of his cologne, clouding any thought in your mind along with the pleasure he was giving you.
“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to fuck you.” He groaned, lifting your ass cheeks, gripping them so he’d leave his marks on you “To just claim you, fill you up with my cum, breed you.” Heeseung rumbled absentmindedly “You’d look so good with my cum dripping out of you.”
His dirty talking only made you clench around him more, the stretch almost painful but too good you begged him to go faster. And how could he say no to you? He grabbed your ass cheeks and held you in place while his hips jerked up, thrusting inside of you.
Soft hums and moans filled the room, you grasped his shoulders and dug your nails in his flesh, trying to steady yourself.
“Pussy made for me.” He rumbled, rutting inside of you at a fast pace “You’re so mine, right?— Fuck— You’ll let someone else fuck you like I do?”
In your blissful state you managed to shake your head “Only you Hee,” You moaned out “I want only you.”
Heeseung rewarded you with a spank on your ass, the mark of his fingertips red on the cheek “Say it again.”
You cried out in pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten “Mph— Just want you to fuck me.”
“Good fucking girl,” He groaned, rutting into you, hitting your cervix with every thrust “Heeseung.” You gasped, your nails leaving painful marks on his skin but he did not mind at all. In fact, he hoped you’d leave marks on all his back. “I know,” Heeseung said “Let’s cum together, just a little more.”
You let out a small sob, your eyes watery from the amount of pleasure you felt all at once, his cock made to thrust inside your pussy. His arms hugged you tightly against his chest, one hand squeezing your ass cheek “Fuck, Fuck,” He pated, his eyes squeezing.
“Gonna cum too baby- Gonna fill you up so good.” He let out a husky groan as his load shot inside of you, coating your walls as you came around his cock. It twitched inside of you, so much cum filling you up until you felt so full.
Heeseung loosened his grip a little, enough to let you move freely as you laid back a little, you both panting heavily, sticky with sweat.
Heeseung looked down at where your bodies connected, some cum dripping down from your pussy to his laps. You could feel him harden again inside of you which made your eyes widen. Was it even possible to get hard that quickly? Heeseung let out a deep chuckle.
He got up from the chair with you still in his arms and laid you down on your back on his bed. You watched him through confused eyes-
Heeseung dried the wetness under your eyes and whispered in your ear “Let me have you once more..”
“But—“ You shook your head, your body was tired and still shaken from the orgasm “I’ll be quick.” He rubbed his nose on your cheek, his figure hovering on yours.
“M’tired..” You murmured, your eyes closing. But Heeseung only let out another dark chuckle “You’ll take it, yeah?” He started pounding inside you, slow but deep
“You’ll take it like the good girl you are.” It wasn’t a question, but an order.
And you were too down for him to neglect him.
222 notes · View notes
astraystayyh · 16 hours
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inhale, exhale.
model!hyunjin x photographer reader. mutual pining and tension and flirting. friends to lovers.
prequel to Breathe, so i highly recommend reading the second part if you haven’t already hehe. reader is wearing a dress/heels.
hyune gives me photoshoots and i give you brainrots in return it is the natural circle of life.. i hope you’ll enjoy this one too 🥹 feedback is highly appreciated as always <3
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Hyunjin’s eyes are piercing, locking onto your figure with an intensity that seems to capture you in place. He’s leaning casually against his sleek black car, one leg crossed before the other, arms folded over his chest, unmoving as the sound of your heels echoes against the cobblestone.
Instead, he tilts his head ever so slightly at your approach, his eyes tracing the contours of your silhouette, setting ablaze the scarlet fabric of your gown with their fervent scrutiny.
It was those very brown eyes you first noticed when Minho showed you Hyunjin’s portfolio. You now know that he is drowned in a sea of accolades regarding his physique— his sculpted proportions, the tantalizing curve of his lips and the seductive caress of his fingertips against them, and above all, his alluring aura and the way he works the camera as if it as an extension of his being.
But it is his eyes that have drawn you in first. Piercing, even through a stack of printed photographs in Minho's hands, burning through paper to ensnare your attention. Even more so, when these same eyes found you for the first time, in an outing your best friend Minho organized— an aspiring photographer shaking the hands of an established model, it was a match made in heaven, per se.
Though heaven was the last thing to grace your mind as you looked at Hyunjin, at the way he carried himself with a grace, and a slight cockiness that only comes from knowing your worth.
You caught his eyes multiple times across the dinner table, your knees grazing his underneath it. You returned home with his perfume imprinted into your skin from the lengthy hours you spent talking over drinks, long after Minho went home to his lover, and three cats. You knew then that Hyunjin could never be just a friend to you.
You are even more sure of it tonight, a fleeting four months later. Minho, the heir of your country’s biggest talent agency is hosting his parent’s annual party, gathering photographers, models, and artistic directors alike, a chance to network and score deals you wouldn’t find elsewhere.
Hyunjin insisted on picking you up.
You pause barely a few inches away from Hyunjin, close enough for him to behold the glitter gracing your eyelids, shimmering beneath the moonlight. Smelling his perfume feels like coming home, and you close yourself for a millisecond longer, allowing yourself the electrifying pleasure of being a mere breath away from him.
“Hello, love,” he speaks softly, and his words morph into invisible fingers trailing down your spine, igniting goosebumps in their trail. You’ve never gotten used to this nickname and the way it stumbles so easily from his lips, as if you could, one day indeed, be his love, a reality hovering just beyond your grasp.
“Hi, Hyunjin,” you smile and his placid facade cracks a little, a glint of a grin shimmering on his lips. He drinks you in, his scrutiny deliberate and unhurried, his gaze moving languidly across your form, flickering between all your features as if he beheld time between his palms, and all his seconds could be spent admiring you. It is only when he seems satiated does he speak again.
“You’re beautiful,” he says earnestly, and you don’t miss his choice of phrasing, you’re beautiful as opposed to you look beautiful, as though it matters not what you are clad in, but the fact that it is you wearing it.
Oftentimes, your compliments to him feel superfluous, your words faltering when you think of the many times Hyunjin must have heard the same adjectives describing him. Yet tonight, you cannot conjure a sarcastic retort to drown his sweet words, not before his ebony suit and the satin shirt peeking beneath it, worst of all, the delicate cascade of gold necklaces that glisten mockingly underneath the stars, taunting you, almost, for being able to graze Hyunjin’s skin when you cannot.
So, you settle for the truth.
“So are you.”
“Complimenting me quite easily tonight?” He smirks, and you respond with an exaggerated eye roll, leaning in closer.
“Forget it. You're actually insufferable.”
He mirrors your movement, drawing nearer until your breaths mingle in the space between you both. “I am actually very lovable, thank you very much.”
“Says who?” you challenge, a hint of defiance coloring your words. The kiss he imprints on the tip of your nose comes like clockwork at your words.
“You,” he grins, and you falter, caught off guard by the unexpected tenderness of his gesture. Heat rises to your face, a blush betraying your composure, even beneath your already pink-kissed cheeks, and you curse inwardly at your own vulnerability.
You hate him. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to kiss someone this badly.
He observes your reaction with amusement, a knowing smile playing upon his lips as he taps the car door once before opening it for you. “After you, love.”
Stepping into the sports car feels like walking into Hyunjin’s essence— the rich cognac and oak notes ricocheting off the interior, the scarlet red cushions echoing the passion Hyunjin seems to carry within him.
And amidst the opulent interior, the small water lilies keychain you brought him seems almost out of place, as it dangles from the rearview mirror. Yet, it makes you feel as if part of you has intermingled with Hyunjin’s being, even in the most simplest of ways.
“Are you nervous?” Hyunjin asks ten minutes into your ride, his fingers drumming along the edge of the steering wheel. Your gaze drifts to the golden rings adorning his fingers, each one bearing the iconic emblem of Versace's Medusa. In another life, he could easily be their ambassador and muse.
Hyunjin’s eyes are piercing, not only because of the flames they dip your body in but also because of the gentle way they unravel your layers, understand your silences more than others grasp your words.
“I am. It’s my first time coming as a graduate, you know? What if I don’t leave a good impression on anyone?”
“Impossible.”
Had someone else uttered those words you would have been inclined to contradict them, but Hyunjin speaks with utmost certainty, as if his words are the only conceivable reply to yours.
“Okay.”
His fingers trail along the shell of your ear, delicately tucking a stray lock of hair behind it. The breaths in your chest ebb and flow more rapidly, you don’t know if it is from nerves or his touch.
“Inhale with me,” he instructs, and you follow his lead, synchronizing your breath with his. His hand glides down your jawline, a gentle caress that soothes your racing pulse. “Exhale,” he murmurs, and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding, comforted by the weight of his touch.
You know the ghost of his fingertips will remain with you as the night wears on, a reminder that he is near, just around the corner, waiting for you to call him.
“You’ll do well, I’m sure of it.”
The gathering is held in a different location every year, and this time, Minho chose an intimate setting—a dimly lit hotel bar, graced by the warm glow of chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, brown leather seats surrounding glass tables, and extravagant flower arrangements.
For a split second, your back instinctively hunches, a reflexive response before this detailed showcase of luxury. But then you straighten your spine, comforted by the sound of your clicking heels against the polished floor, and Hyunjin's warm palm against your lower back.
You reach for a drink from a passing tray, the glass cool against your fingertips as you swirl the cocktail within. You take note of the numerous guests, as you cast a glance around the room, each one a titan in their creative field. Hyunjin stands at your side, his shoulder brushing against yours, as he too takes his time in assessing the room.
“Seems kind of boring,” Hyunjin remarks, his voice laced with a hint of disinterest as he leisurely sips his drink.
“Seems like your scene,” you tease, flashing him a playful grin, and he arches a brow in response.
“Oh yeah? And what is my scene?”
“An intimate setting with romantic lighting and jazz music,” you explain, taking a step closer and resting a hand delicately on his arm. “And some wine,” you add, though his attention is captivated by the movement of your shimmering lips as you speak. “And pretty people eyeing you all over the place.”
“Are they?” he counters, his hand sliding slowly to your waist, drawing you nearer with a subtle pull. “I only see you.”
“Really?” you challenge, trailing a finger tantalizingly slow along his jawline, “Then make sure your eyes never leave me throughout the night.”
His gaze remains fixed on your retreating form, a mixture of bewilderment and desire swirling in his eyes. He mutters a curse at the sight of your backless dress— it seems more than likely that you are a killer sent to end him by the end of the night.
It’s a few hours later, and Hyunjin has exhausted every social bone in his being, each interaction draining his reserves of charm and charisma. All he craves now is rest, and the comfort of his home—it turns out that, lately, it is more and more wherever you are, rather than the confines of his house.
He spots you sitting in a secluded corner, bathed in the soft glow of a solitary candle. A gentle smile graces his lips as he observes you, engrossed in nibbling at the snacks laid out before you.
Do you even realize how beautiful you are?
“You’re whipped,” Minho's voice interrupts his thoughts, Hyunjin does not contradict him.
“Is it that obvious?” he replies with a hint of amusement, his eyes never flickering away from your figure.
“You should see how you look at them.”
“Is it weird that everywhere we go, the world seems to narrow down to them alone?” he admits, a tinge of uncertainty coloring his words. The silence that follows from Minho makes a scorching heat creep up his neck, so he unbuttons his shirt for a bit of respite.
Minho shakes his head, a small giggle escaping his lips, before offering a reassuring clap on Hyunjin’s back. “I’ll see you around.”
Hyunjin quickly strides towards you, eager not to waste any seconds far from you, propelled by a longing that grips him like a second skin. He thinks you’re much closer to his heart than the necklaces brushing against his bare chest.
“Found you,” Hyunjin announces with a grin as he settles onto the couch across from you. Your body relaxes once you recognize him, your smile blooms akin to the first petals unfurling in spring.
“See, you didn’t look at me all night,” you pout teasingly and he chuckles, tipping his head back.
“I actually was. I was looking at you, through my heart.”
“How does that even work?”
He hesitates for a moment before his next words spill forth, unfiltered and raw. “I don't need to see you to know that you are near, I just feel it.”
A moment of silence hangs between you before you smile sheepishly, tilting your head to the side in wonder. “How was your night?”
“Productive but tiring, and you?” he replies, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the warmth of your presence.
“I got a booking, a big one,” you announce with a grin, and his own smile mirrors yours instantly, his happiness following yours as if tethered by an invisible string.
“Really?”
“Yes, and I think I'll need your help. It needs to be in a bathtub and I know you are busy so it’s okay if—”
“I’m all yours,” he interrupts without hesitation, and you nod, heart swelling with gratitude.
It is quiet then, as you rest your head against the corner of the couch, and Hyunjin mirrors your gesture, his gaze never wavering from yours. The soft flicker of candlelight casts a warm glow upon his bare skin, the one unveiled by his unbuttoned shirt. And your mouth suddenly feels dry, and your heart suddenly aches, for him alone.
He brings his hand near his face, his rosy lips brushing against his knuckles, as your eyes trace the contours of his face— it seems to possess an otherworldly radiance, with dark locks cascading like silken strands, as if meticulously arranged by the hand of Aphrodite herself. Surely, she would adore him too, as would anyone who had the privilege of knowing him.
But you believe your adoration surpasses that of most.
“Thank you,” you whisper, your hand reaching out to rest delicately on his knee. “For finding me again.”
In response, his eyes soften, a gentleness that transcends mere words seeping into his gaze. He's no longer just around the corner; he’s right behind the door, both your hands poised on the doorknob. It is only a matter of time before one of you takes the plunge.
“Thank you for letting me find you.”
218 notes · View notes
ham1lton · 3 days
Text
fight for this love.
pairings: jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader
warnings: nothing!
faceclaim: bella hadid.
summary: jude meets you at a promotional event for a brand you both have a deal with. after the first meeting, he’s smitten, but there is a problem. he never got your number.
— part three of my 500 followers celebration ♡ —
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liked by gucci, judesgf and 1,028,728 others.
vogue: gucci’s newest ambassador, footballer jude bellingham, spills the beans (no pun intended) on his fav outfit combo, his ideal type and his favourite kebab place back home in birmingham.
user1: NEED HIM SO BAD 😍😍😍😩😩😩
user8: brb going to buy out gucci rn.
user7: WAIT…. his ideal type???
-> user9: it’s lowkey kind of boring. specific but not specific. he says he loves girls who are focused, smart and have good relationships with their friends and family.
-> user7: check, check and CHECK 😩 brb calling up my deadbeat dad rq just for u jude 😘😍
user6: gucci king we love him.
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liked by yourbffname, oscarpiastri and 1,237,665 others.
yourusername: gucci loves me and i love gucci ♥︎ thank u to the whole gucci team for having me alongside the other ambassadors at today’s event! it was so much fun!
oscarpiastri: you had the entire gucci catalogue to choose from and you still chose to dress like an ailing grandfather.
-> yourusername: drip or drown baby!
-> oscarpiastri: you’re the latter.
user1: i met you today at the gucci event!! you were so sweet. i was the one who gave u the bracelet! 🫶🏼
-> yourusername: yes!! thank u sm!! it was so cute and matched my outfit so well. i’m still wearing it!
logansargeant: when are you hooking me up with free gucci 🤨😒 we’ve been friends for more than a decade ms l/n….
-> yourusername: lemme work my magic 🙈✨
user78: she should have been a model instead of a formula one driver!! so pretty!! that bone structure 🤤
user7: did you see jude looking at her throughout the whole damn event? omg. he’s down bad.
-> user63: bro was simping 😭 i don’t blame him. i mean… it’s y/n.
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourbffname and 1,237,765 others.
judebellingham: took these pics last night. whoever my midnight muse was, please message me.
oscarpiastri: i know her mate. it’s landonorris.
-> landonorris: yes ‘tis i, your gucci girl 🥰
logansargeant: it’s yourusername, man. thank you for this. now she’ll stop talking about you in the gc 🙄🙄
-> user7: american and british solidarity.
user8: need a man willing to do a worldwide search for me.
-> user26: commit a crime, flee and you’ll get a whole fleet of men doing that for you <3
user12: oh to be jude bellingham’s midnight muse.
user90: how does bro not know the current world champion and first female f1 driver to break many barriers in the sport?? like she’s a household name 😭
-> user25: chronically offline 😭
yourusername: hi!! it’s me! these photos are gorgeous! yes, please message me <3 also ignore oscar, logan and lando in your comments please. they have no home training.
-> logansargeant: you could have stopped me if you had given me the gucci u promised 🤨
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liked by judebellingham, ynswifey and 1,272,892 others.
yourusername: i felt like my paddock outfit just wasn’t appreciated enough today.
oscarpiastri: this is all you post after your win?
-> yourusername: i put a lot of effort into this outfit! only charles said something. 😔
-> oscarpiastri: wow! y/n! jeans and a t-shirt! revolutionary!
-> yourusername: i’m gonna pretend that wasn’t sarcastic 😝🥰
user728: oscar doesn’t see the vision. this is super cute!!
user267: her posting this after she just hard launched her relationship with jude?!
-> user128: like girlie straight up jumped and kissed him after her win and hasn’t even acknowledged it???
judebellingham: u look so good.
-> user682: you couldn’t have texted her this shit? lmaoooooo.
user516: i appreciated it!!
-> yourusername: i love u sm 🫶🏼😍
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liked by ynsgf, zendaya and 1,727,982 others.
yourusername: tried to find out if blondes do truly have more fun. answer tbd.
— 📸 creds - my bf.
judebellingham: that’s ME in the caption btw.
-> yourusername: we know babe 😁🥰😝
gucci: i guess we’re matchmakers now?
-> logansargeant: YASSS 😩 now can i get free gucci or no 🤨
-> oscarpiastri: crazy emoji use man 😭 is it ever that serious.
judebellingham: i love you so much.
-> yourusername: love u forever. glad to be urs. 💕🫶🏻
user1: she ate this down we love a bad bitch and her supportive bf!
user71: him flying her out after she wins the championship!!! we love this for her!!
user16: why can’t i have a hot gf, be sexy, be rich, one of the most promising young athletes currently and be lounging on a beach somewhere…
-> user72: why can’t i have a hot bf, be sexy, be rich, one of the most promising young athletes currently and be lounging on a beach somewhere…
user68: we love a blonde moment!
-> yourusername: halfway through our holiday, i saw zendaya, rihanna and beyoncé go blonde and got extreme fomo.
-> judebellingham: she made me dye it. i was terrified.
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author’s note: reader here is heavily based off of what it would have been if nepo!sis reader was the driver instead of o/s but in that universe, she never would have dated lando. so… small blessings ig?
386 notes · View notes
xzaddyzanakinx · 3 days
Text
Not That Kind of Guy
Part Ten: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, oral, dick piercing, spit, back shots, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin is so annoyed with his mother. He discovers something and Ghost has plans for it. [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
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Diary Entry: August 16th
I thought for sure you’d kick me to the curb. But just like always, you never fail to amaze me. You like the side of me that no one else does, you like both of me, that’s a miracle if I’ve ever seen one.
I don’t even like both of me.
You chose me, for whatever reasons you might have, pure curiosity or genuine care and interest… I don’t really care. All I care about is that you chose me. You want me. Me. All of me.
You’re choosing both of me. Separately. But soon you’ll love both sides of me, you’ll love me as a whole. That’s something no one has ever given to me. No one has ever wholly loved me, partially because I’ve never shown anyone all of me, partially because I used to fail miserably at balancing the black and white of my being.
Anakin the perfect boyfriend and future husband deserves your daylight love. Ghost the purposely imperfect and probably less than sane guy deserves your midnight curiosities.
I like this. Separating myself this way, it’s more manageable. I’ve tried for years and years to just be Anakin who is always pretending to be the man of the year, but is still just a tad too… off putting.
To everyone back home, I’ll always be the strange guy who only had two friends, himself and the neighbor kid who was only such good friends with him because they grew up in close proximity.
Anakin, the weird kid who didn’t know how to smile properly.
Anakin, the creep who stared too much, not at anything inappropriate. I wasn’t leering at women or anything, it’s just creepy for people to be looked at by someone who has ‘dead eyes’ and ‘doesn’t blink enough’.
Anakin, the ‘well he’s trying’ boy. The poor little guy who brought Brianna a handful of nettles on the playground, tied together with worms. ‘He meant well! He’s trying to be nice sweetie.’
Anakin, the ‘turn out your pockets before you come inside’ kid. You come home with a dead squirrel in your hoodie pocket once and your mother will never trust you not to have another stashed somewhere.
‘hey, it’s not that I don’t think you’re great! I do! You’re just not… great for me.’
‘please don’t look at me like that, it makes me uncomfortable’
‘Get away from my yard, I know what you’re doing!’
‘Who’s cat is that? Anakin! Where did you get this?’
‘Ani, you can’t keep doing this. I can’t protect you forever!’
‘Don’t you want to have friends? A girlfriend? To grow up and have a family? Don’t you want that?’
I was always Anakin-weird as hell, psycho, town freak-Skywalker.
In your daylight love I can be Anakin-nice guy, perfect smile, warm hugs-Skywalker.
I can shove everything else into The Pit until I’m ready to put on that Ghostface mask and take off my mask of normalcy. Weird isn’t it? Putting on a mask just to take off another one?
I like it though. I really like it.
I can be normal for you. I can. I can be normal. As long as Ghost can be let out of The Pit sometimes. No more balancing on the edge for Anakin. No more hiding and pretending and suffocating myself with the act of being a person.
If I can flood Anakin with all the things I’ve learned over the years, all the knowledge I’ve stored away in my mind’s filing cabinets… then you can have the man you deserve.
You’ll just have to come to terms with the fact that once Ghost makes his appearance, your Anakin is gone until further notice.
I think you’ll do well with that. You’re already handling it swimmingly.
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Diary Entry: August 17th
You left me a note of your own this morning, a question I wasn’t expecting in the slightest. When I walked into the kitchen and finally cracked open the diary you’d left laying there for me I was shocked. Absolutely and completely shocked.
‘When are you coming home?’
You’re asking Ghost to visit you? For real? I don’t even know how to react, I never thought you’d be the one requesting the company of my masked presence. I guess giving you an option, proving your feelings and your well-being mattered most to me was the right move.
Now I just have to figure out what I’m going to do. I’ll have to plan. I need to think.
I have to be so much more careful now.
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Date
August 18th
This is the first time Ghost hasn’t responded when you’ve contacted him. It’s been three days of nothing. He’s not been inside your house at all, no gifts, nothing has been moved, your cat’s bowl is empty when you get home.
His absence is more unsettling that his presence.
You’re beginning to wonder if you’ve angered him by asking about his next visit, was that the wrong thing to do? Did it freak him out? Asking about his plans… did it make him uncomfortable? Or is he tired of the chase now? Now that you’re interested… is it possible he’s lost the adrenaline rush of it all and he won’t be back at all?
There’s no time to ponder or worry right now, yet here you are staring into the foggy mirror in your bathroom post-shower.
“Hey sweetheart?” Anakin’s cheery voice floated to you from under the door.
“In here!” You called out, opening the door up and wiping off the mirror, grateful to have been pulled out of your mind.
“Want help picking something out?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your middle, pressing his nose to the crown of your head to smell your freshly washed hair.
“Mmm yeah if you want.” You nodded, smiling at him in the mirror.
“You excited?” He grinned, poking your sides to hear you giggle.
“Yeah… a little bit nervous though to be honest.” You confessed.
“What? Why? They’ll like you, I have no doubts.” He said with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulders.
“I know, it’s just… what if they don’t?” You asked nervously, looking away from his intense gaze in the mirror.
“They will.” He whispered kissing your temple.
“But what if they don’t?”
“They will, but, if for some reason they don’t then they’re stupid.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But I know they will okay?”
“But Ani I’m worr-“
“Hey.” He said sharply, catching the words before they could leave your lips. “That’s enough.” He said in a softer tone.
He sighed, grabbing the hair brush from the sink countertop. He started brushing through your wet tangles, starting at the ends and working his way up.
“You’re important to me. They know that.” Anakin whispered, kissing your shoulder. “They know you’re something special, trust me. I’ve never brought anyone to meet them before.”
“Seriously?” You whipped your head around with a horrified expression on your face.
“Yeah seriously.” He nodded. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone else.” He gently directed your head back to face the mirror so he could continue brushing your hair.
“That makes it even worse!” You squeaked, slumping over against the sink, your arms crossed on the cold Formica top with your forehead rested on them.
“Why?” He asked as he sat the brush aside and placed his hand on your back, rubbing up and down the soft fabric of the towel around you.
“I’m the first girl you’re bringing home!” You said exasperatedly, “they’re gonna be expecting someone like… like super great and amazing.”
“You are super great and amazing.” He laughed, squeezing your hip and patting it gently.
“But-“
“Baby stop.” He said softly. “You’re gonna work yourself up all over nothin’. Please, just trust me okay? They’re gonna think you’re perfect.”
“Okay.” You sighed, standing back up and turning around to hug him tightly. “Alright. Let’s get ready then.”
“I’m ready.” He said gesturing to his tight grey crewneck and ripped black jeans. “All fancy and shit.”
“I wouldn’t say fancy, but I would say hot.” You grinned.
“Stop.” He chuckled, “should I go change? I can’t have you drooling over me at the dinner table with my parents.”
“No, no don’t change.” You shook your head with a giggle. “I can wait.”
“You can wait?” He gave you a devilishly toothy smile. “Wait for what darlin’? Does baby need some attention?”
He picked you up and sat you on the sink counter, giving your ass a firm squeeze. Immediately bringing one hand to your cheek, his thumb on your chin, he tilted your head to the side and hovered his lips just over your skin. Barely grazing the softness of his lips up the length of your neck to the dip beneath your ear. His free hand rubbing up and down your side, as he finally pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to your sensitive flesh.
“My girl only waits when I say so.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.
He nuzzled into your neck, bringing your ass to the edge of the sink with one arm, using the same hand to slip beneath your towel and travel up your abdomen. The towel fell from where it was tightly tucked at your chest, Anakin’s hand cupping your breast gently as he thumbed at your nipple.
His lips soldered to yours in a passionate caress of lips and tongues, you could taste the minty flavor of the gum he constantly chewed, the forever lingering ghost of cigarettes and the delicious savory flavor that was uniquely him.
He was so good at distracting you with his mouth on yours that he could get away with just about anything and you’d never know until it was too late. Just like now, when you heard his belt buckle clank against the bathroom tiles. You couldn’t help but smile, it was something so simple, but it was one of your favorite things.
The sound will forever be associated with every kiss, every touch, every gasp and breath he’d given you and every intimate moment to come. The jangle of his belt buckle coming loose meant falling apart in his arms, it meant love without saying it aloud.
Anakin snickered as he teased your opening with one finger, swirling it around the outside, never fully dipping inside.
“Greedy little pussy.” His deep bedroom voice never failed to conjure up a gush of slick to your already drenched cunt. “So fucking wet already.”
“Mhm.” You nodded, wiggling your hips closer to his hand or at least you tried to, Anakin held you firmly in place, tsking at your attempt.
“See? Greedy.” He chuckled but gave in anyway, finally pushing in one digit to twirl around your gummy walls while he pumped in and out slowly.
“Can’t help it.” You panted, breathing heavily despite the relief of getting what you wanted, you needed more. “Missed you Ani.”
“Oh poor thing, I missed you too.” He cooed, adding a second finger while he rolled his wrist as he thrusted his fingers deeper.
Just as you were about to speak again, the shrill sound of your phone alarm blared next to you on the counter top, making you both jump.
“Jesus! what the fuck.” He snorted, “pause baby.” He said as he reached over to turn it off and check the time.
“I’m so glad you set shit like that or else we’d never get anywhere on time.” He said with a smile. “Now, hop down and let me bend you over.”
“What we’re doing a quickie?” You teased as you did as requested, sliding off the sink and obediently bending at the waist for him.
“As much as I hate it, yes.” He sighed. “You know I like to take my time.”
He said as he rubbed his rough palm over the swell of your ass, tugging his boxers down with his other hand. He shoved his palm under your chin and tapped your cheek.
“Spit.” His voice was rough and gritty, like he he was straining, fighting not to ram himself into you right that very second.
You spit into his hand, earning a mumbled: “Atta girl.”
He slicked his cock with your saliva, stroking himself quickly with the head of his cock pressed to your entrance, pleasuring himself but just torturing you with the heat of his length.
“Ani!” You whined, pushing your hips back against him.
You’d done exactly what he wanted. The second you pushed back he rammed his cock deep inside your pulsing heat. He set a brutal pace, wrapping one arm around your chest. Your hands instinctively flew up to hold onto his muscled forearm, his grip tightened and you gasped in surprise.
“Christ Anakin.” You breathed out, your eyes wide with shock at this sudden change of pace.
He was a slow and sensual lover, he liked to take his sweet time and caress every curve and kiss every centimeter of flesh that he could reach. But this was completely different, this was pure hunger, hips snapping against your ass at a punishing pace.
His other arm came down your stomach and spread your pussy lips apart to press and pinch the little hard nub that would have you shaking beneath him.
The way he was breathing so heavily in your ear, the hot air fanning over your cheek, it only heightened the feeling. Sending goosebumps down your skin and perking up your nipples again. The sound of your wetness was loud enough to hear with each and every plunge of his cock.
“You like it like this baby?” He chuckled, “sounds like you like it.”
“Uh huh.” You nodded rapidly, gripping his arm tightly as a particularly sharp streak of lightning shot through you.
Your pussy clenched down around his cock and you closed your eyes to concentrate on the feeling the metal jewelry at the tip of his cock gave you as it stroked your insides roughly.
“Making such pretty noises,” he moaned, tilting your head back and to the side using your hair, to properly reach your mouth so he could ravage you with his tongue just as he was with his dick.
“C’mon baby, let me hear it.” He panted, sucking your lip between his teeth.
“That’s it, yeah there’s my girl.” He laughed, watching your eyes roll back until just the whites were visible. Your eyes fluttered shut as your cunt pulsed around him.
“Fuck… Fuck that’s- right there… please?” You whined, trapping his hand right where it was with your fingers digging into his wrist.
“Good manners.” He praised, licking along the length of your jaw. “Good manners baby, so proud.”
“Just like this huh?” He questioned teasingly, a smirk on his lips caught your attention in the foggy mirror. “You like the piercing don’t you baby? Feels good doesn’t it?”
“Fuck yeah.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut tight while you waited for him to push you over the edge. “L-love it. Don’t ever fucking take it out again.”
“Sure thing baby.” He snickered. “You ready sweetheart? Getting close aren’t you?”
“You can cum.” He said as you nodded, his forehead now resting on your shoulder as he drilled into you, rolling your clit between his finger and thumb.
The coil that had been wound tightly in your core snapped with his permission, a high pitched groan eeked out from between your gritted teeth, your cunt leaking down his shaft as he fucked you through the high.
“Lean down.” He said as he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gaping and gasping for breath.
“Perfect.” He groaned, one hand on your waist as you pressed your torso against the sink counter.
He stroked his cock wildly, his fingers digging into the plush of your waist, squeezing soothingly when his chin dropped to his chest and he stiffened up, holding his breath. All you could hear was the sound of his slick hand pumping his swollen length over your ass.
Until finally you felt the warm spurts of cum splatter on your skin, the viscous fluid dribbling down your lower spine until it slid over your ass hole.
“Fuck, that looks so damn pretty.” He breathed heavily, standing back to take in his art work.
“I should take a picture.” He whispered, kneeling behind you with a hand under each ass cheek, he licked up his own cum with a satisfied hum.
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Approximately an hour after Anakin defiled you in the steamy confines of your bathroom, you were walking hand in hand into one of the nicer restaurants on the outer circle of the city. Meeting his mother terrified you, his stepfather not so much. Anakin didn’t grow up with him, he wasn’t a staple of his childhood.
But his mother was. She was a single parent, worked so incredibly hard to provide for herself and her son. She made sure he had everything he needed and then some, she was truly a saint.
“Chill out.” Anakin whispered, squeezing your hand gently. “You’re okay.”
You nodded and silently let Anakin pull you along behind the host who was leading you to the table where his mother and stepdad waited for you both.
You laid eyes on his mother first and the smile that spread across your lips was genuine. As soon as you saw her your worries started to slip into the backseat of your mind. She exuded a calming atmosphere, she seemed so serene and unbothered. What you’d give to live life like that.
You could see where Anakin got his comforting nature from, especially as she stood up and extended her hand to you. The gentle smile and warmth in the crinkle of her eyes was enough to melt your heart.
“I’m Shmi.” She introduced herself in a soft tone, looking to her side where her husband sat. “This is Cliegg, Anakin’s stepfather.” He gave you a nod and warm smile after clapping Anakin on the back in an awkward side hug.
“It’s great to meet you guys!” You chirped, introducing yourself quickly.
“You too sweetie.” Shmi smiled, moving to envelope her son in a hug.
“Hey momma.” Anakin chuckled, squishing her shorter frame in a big bear hug. “Miss ya.”
“Missed you too hon.” She said quietly, patting his chest before returning to her seat.
She gave Anakin a little smile of approval when he pulled your chair out for you to slide into, you wanted to gush about how grateful you were that she’d raised him to be such a gentleman but you got the feeling that she already knew.
The four of you engaged in a bit of small talk while looking over the menu options, you refrained from even picking up the menu, getting an odd look from Cliegg who just chuckled and shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘suit yourself’. The waiter returned with ice water for everyone and a bottle of wine for the table, getting ready to take orders with their pad and pen at the ready.
After Anakin’s mother and her husband ordered, Shmi looked at you expectantly but you just gave her a small smile as Anakin ordered for the both of you.
“Anakin.” She chided him after the waiter left. “She’s perfectly capable of speaking for herself.”
“I know she is.” He said firmly. “But she shouldn’t have to when I’m perfectly capable of doing it for her.”
“Shmi it’s okay really.” You laughed light, knocking Anakin’s foot with your own as a warning. “I prefer it honestly. I think it’s sweet.”
She gave you an odd look, her face was soft just as it had been the whole night so far, but her eyes conveyed something that you couldn’t quite place.
“Alright sweetie.” She conceded and nodded, the look passing over her eyes just as quickly as it appeared.
Anakin’s arm slid around your waist momentarily to offer some comfort, gently squeezing your hip and tapping his thumb rhythmically while he jumped straight back into the conversation he was having with his stepdad.
“So, Anakin’s told me quite a bit about you.” Shmi said warmly. “He said you’re a waitress and you’re taking classes at the college?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded happily. “The Bluebird Diner, it’s a real great place. Anakin’s a big fan of the butterscotch pie.” You smiled.
“The college… yes I’m taking classes. They’re all going well but I’m not set on a major yet and it’s getting to be the time that I decide.” You sucked in an anxious breath, giving her a nervous look.
“Well that’s perfectly fine.” She said, surprising you with her acceptance of your unplanned career. “I dropped out after my freshman year and didn’t complete my degree until Anakin was in highschool.” She explained.
“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Anakin’s side profile while he spoke to his stepfather. “Do you mind if I ask why?”
“Why I dropped out?” She asked, leaning back in her chair. “Well it was for a few reasons. Mostly because it’s difficult to work, educate yourself and raise a child alone.”
“I can imagine it would be.” You agreed with a humored smile, expecting to be met with a similar expression by Shmi.
Though you weren’t, instead she had a strange sort of reminiscent look about her. Not the fuzzy feeling of nostalgic reminiscing, more of a moment of remembering something unpleasant.
“Yes.” She nodded, “Anakin didn’t make it any easier.”
“Oh…” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her sudden shift in demeanor.
It seems she noticed your body language change and she quickly corrected herself by breaking out into a smile, sitting back up straighter in her seat.
“But what kid doesn’t?” She laughed lightly, reaching out to pat your hand affectionately.
“Right,” you nodded, chalking up her strange switch up as a mother remembering her rowdy son. It must be hard, seeing him grown up and finally bringing a girl to meet her.
“So how did you two meet?” Shmi asked, turning in her seat to face you fully, giving you her full attention. “Anakin said you’re neighbors?”
“Yeah! Yeah that’s how we met officially.” You nodded.
“Officially?”
“Well we found out after we’d talked a few times that we actually met at the bar he works at.” You explained, “he made a drink for me. I thought he looked like… semi-familiar, you know it’s hard to miss the tattoos.” You smiled.
“Oh that’s very true.” Shmi laughed. “Definitely stands out.”
“Yeah, so we officially met the day he was moving in across the hall from me.”
“Oh you’re telling her about move in day?” Anakin cut in with a big grin on his face.
“Mhm.” You nodded happily, gazing at him with a hint of adoration in your eyes. “Anakin had his stuff strewn out in the hallway and I knocked over a stack of his books.” You laughed and he squeezed your shoulder lightly.
“Yeah, then we chatted for a bit and she noticed a book of mine that she’d lost her copy of, so I gave it to her. That’s how I snatched her up.” He said proudly, gesturing to you with both hands like he was presenting a trophy.
“Huh, who knew you had a little romantic streak?” Cliegg laughed.
“Oh he definitely does!” You agreed eagerly.
“Well Anakin I have to say: I’m extremely impressed you’ve found such a lovely girl.” Shmi said softly, glancing at you with those warm eyes.
“Took you long enough.” His stepdad smacked his upper arm with the back of his hand with a deep laugh.
“Hey, I was holding out for the right one.” Anakin said with a satisfied smile. “I wanted my forever girl and I found her.”
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The rest of the night went smoothly, no hiccups, no awkward moments, nothing you’d worried about came to fruition. His mother was as sweet as could be and her husband definitely suited her well. All in all, you were happy to have had the opportunity to get to know them. You were proud to be the first girl worthy of meeting them and you were thrilled that they seemed to like you as much as you liked them.
“See? Told you.” Anakin whispered, walking beside you out of the restaurant.
“You were right.” You sighed. “Nothing to worry about.”
“I was what?” He fake gasped, one hand coming up to cover his mouth dramatically.
“You heard me and I’m not repeating it.” You giggled, bumping him with your shoulder.
“Good enough for me princess, I’ll take it.” He smiled, pulling you close and pressing a chaste kiss to your hair.
You said your goodbyes to Anakin’s parents just outside the entrance, a full, loving hug from Shmi and a ‘you’re great but we’re not there yet’ double hand squeeze on one of yours from his stepdad.
You’d just started walk to the car when Shmi called out to Anakin, causing you both to swivel around.
“Ani, sweetheart can you come talk for just a second?” She asked sweetly.
“Oh… yeah okay.” He nodded, handing you the car keys.
“I’ll go see what’s up baby.” He said with a soft tone, “go ahead to the car.”
You followed instructions and did exactly as he asked, climbing into the passenger seat of his car and starting it so you could listen to the radio while Anakin was gone. You didn’t think much of it, it was probably just a bit of an after dinner debrief.
Anakin jogged over to his mom and leaned against Cliegg’s truck while he climbed in, leaving just Shmi and Anakin to speak alone.
“Ani she’s a wonderful girl.” Shmi said, squeezing his arm gently.
“Yeah she is, she’s perfect isn’t she?” He gushed, his pupils widened at just the thought of you.
“Yes-“
“She’s just… everything. She’s everything to me.” He continued, picking up his mothers hand.
“Just w-“
“I mean I really believe she’s the one mom.” He squeezed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles in an affectionate way. “Really I do, she’s perfect. I- I’m so glad you guys like her, I knew you would of course but she was just so nervous and-“
“Anakin!” Shmi said sternly, her voice quickly going back to a calm tone after getting his attention.
“Anakin, sweetie, I’m so glad you’ve found your person.” She started slowy, holding eye contact with her son’s intense gaze. “I’m proud of you, you know that don’t you?”
“Yeah of course-“
“I’m proud of you. You’re a good boy honey.” She said quietly, “she’s a sweet girl, she deserves the best.”
“Well yeah she does, of course she does and-“
“Are you being your best?” Shmi asked him, her voice turning hard, alittle sharp. “Swear to me, Anakin. Swear you are?”
“Yes mom.” He sighed as though he were expecting this conversation.
“Are you still taking your medicine? Seeing your doctor?” She asked worriedly.
“Really?” He scoffed. “Please, let’s just drop it. This was a good day, please don’t ruin it by worrying over nothing.”
“Are you though?”
“Yes!” He hissed, clenching his teeth tightly. “Yes I’m still seeing the doctor and taking the stupid pills, yes.”
“Good. Very good.” She breathed a sigh of relief at his compliance.
“Don’t ask me if she knows.” Anakin said sternly. “She doesn’t.”
“You can’t just keep that from her, she has a right to know Anakin!”
“It’s not the right time for that.” He raised his voice slightly. “She doesn’t need to know yet. I’ll tell her on my own terms.”
“But you can’t-“
“I said: I’ll tell her on my own terms.” He breathed deeply, keeping his temper in check. “Please mom, just… just be happy for me okay? I’m doing really good, I’m happy. Please just let me be happy.”
“Alright.” She sighed, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry sweetie, I shouldn’t have questioned you like that.”
“It’s okay. I know you worry.” He mumbled, pulling her into a hug, his hand rubbing between her shoulder blades.
“I- I just so badly want you to be happy.” She said quietly. “I want you to be safe, happy, and loved. You deserve to be loved.”
“I am loved.” Anakin whispered, his voice rough, “You love me. Cliegg loves me. Owen probably loves me. I think she might love me too.”
“You think so?” She asked in a brighter tone.
“Yeah, I do.” He nodded, pulling back with a soft smile.
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Diary Entry: August 18th
I love my mother, but she worries too much. Talking to me like I’m some child to be coddled and babysat. I don’t need her or anyone else to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, especially when it comes to you, my little doe.
I know what’s best for you, for our relationship, and it’s my opinion that you don’t need to burden yourself with my past transgressions. I’m a changed man, what I did as a teenager, as a kid, has no reflection on who I am today.
Telling you about it is out of the question. At least for now… but, it’d probably be for the best to never, ever speak of it. I just don’t see the point in sharing something like that with you when it would cause your pretty little head to worry over something so irrelevant to the present.
Not to mention the stupid fucking doctor. It was ridiculous, asking me such a personal question when she knows very well that it upsets me when she interrogates me like that. It’s none of her business anymore, I’m not a child, I can take care of myself.
If anything, her questioning and distrust makes me want to do it even less just to prove that I can live without it.
I don’t need to see a fucking shrink if I’m taking the pills right? It’s overkill to do both. I don’t need to talk about my feelings, I don’t need to tell a stranger all about my past and the questionable things I’ve done. That’s why I have a journal and I think it suits me just fine.
Just another reason why I love you so much. You’ve helped me by getting me into writing stuff down instead of keeping it bottled up. You’re responsible for the thing that helps keep me from spiraling, you should be so proud of yourself, showing me this A+ coping skill.
It’s way better than: ‘Breathe in… breathe out… focus on your surroundings and count the things you can see and feel.’
Like what the hell is that? What’s that supposed to do? Distract me? Yeah right.
It can’t distract me from what’s going on in my head. Not when it’s so much all at once, all the time. It was exhausting to pretend that something like that was working for me. Journaling is so much better. So much easier.
It’s real and it’s tangible. I can flip through the pages and return to the good things, or I can skip over the bad stuff but take comfort in knowing that I was able to write it down.
So fuck the shrink, I’m not going back. I haven’t been in months and I’m doing perfectly fine.
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Diary Entry: August 20th
I cannot for the life of me figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I’m grasping at straws here, trying to figure out how to handle the Ghost situation.
I can tell you’re getting annoyed.
How am I supposed to respond? I know it’s been days but I can’t bring myself to answer the texts, the notes, the questions shouted into your otherwise empty home.
Hopefully you’ll understand, though I acknowledge that you have every reason to be upset with me. I’m assuming you’re feeling some sort of betrayal after the letter… I hate that. I really hate it. But it’s unavoidable.
You responded extremely well to my offer and the opportunity for a choice. So I’ll just do that again. That sounds reasonable, I’ll give a bit of an explanation, little apology and then I’ll let you choose what happens next.
This is what happens when I don’t fully plan ahead. I fuck things up and then it’s just a gommed up mess.
Then the whole situation with my mother really threw me off. It just added another layer of ‘what the hell’ to my already high stack of self imposed problems.
I want to do something. I need to do something. I have shit to get off my chest.
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Date
August 22nd
Finally, finally Ghost has gotten back in contact with you.
Now that the little grey envelope is sitting on your nightstand… you almost don’t want to open it. After all the silence on his end it’s impossible to guess what he has to say. Though as you’re convincing yourself not to open it, it’s found it’s way into your hand.
LETTER
Little Doe,
My absence was unexpected for you as well as myself, for that I apologize. I would go into detail if I could but unfortunately we both know that I can’t do that.
Let’s just say that my life got a bit complicated and I had to take a moment to iron things out. Now that everything is starched and pressed it’ll be back to business as usual.
While I was gone I took some time to consider your question as well. So I’ll match you with a question of my own.
I’ve been… stressed to say the very least. I don’t like to be destructive, I’m not that kind of guy. So I was wondering if you’d help me out, give me a bit of an alternative rage release?
Don’t lie, I know you’re curious. I know you want me just as badly as I want you. I bet you’re wet just reading this, aren’t you? I think it’s high time for you to be conscious enough to really enjoy everything I’m giving you. Don’t you agree?
I heard you like it rough. Is that true princess? I’ll give you rough, just say the word and I’ll make sure you’ve got marks that’ll last for weeks.
Next half of the question: here or elsewhere?
You sure do love to show off that little body of yours. I wonder if that would translate over into your sex life if you’d let it.
Your choice little doe.
——————————————————————————
‘He did not just ask me that… did he?’
You stared at the letter in your hands, your mind going well over the speed limit on the road to rational thinking. It was tempting, oh so very tempting. He’s right of course, he always is, you are curious. You do want him, maybe even need him.
It’s obvious he’s more than capable of giving you what you needed, what you wanted. The man had you feigning for him for weeks with no relief, all from teasing you, all while you were unaware.
It would be… interesting to see for yourself in the waking world what he’s done to you in dreamland. It’s alright if it’s for research purposes isn’t it? Is it really cheating if you don’t know the person at all, his identity is a complete mystery; that should count for something right?
Just a smidgen of a mitigating factor would be enough to sway you to say yes.
“Hey.” You called out, waving your hand as if he were there with you and you were trying to get his attention. “You listening?”
*Ping* a text came through almost immediately: ‘Always.’
“You’re serious about this?” You asked, holding the stationary in one hand, gesturing to it with your other.
‘I’m always serious.’
“Right.” You sighed, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged. “I don’t think this would be very kind of me to do. I just met Anakin’s mother, our relationship is getting serious.”
‘Congrats. What does that have to do with my need to fuck you?’
“Uh everything.” You scoffed. “That’s cheating. I don’t want to cheat on him!”
‘Defensive are we?’
“Yes,” you hissed, scrubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand, “very defensive for good reason.”
‘I admire your loyalty, but be honest with yourself little doe.’
“I am being honest! I don’t want to cheat on him!” You shouted back.
‘You didn’t say that you didn’t want me to fuck your though.’
“Christ.” You mumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“I didn’t say that. You’re right.” You conceded.
‘Then it’s a yes?’
“Not necessarily.” You snapped, the true answer was right there, clawing away in the cage of your teeth.
‘So no then.’
“That’s not what I said.” You said hastily, alittle too eager to correct him.
‘I see.’
“What?” You scoffed, staring at the message that’d popped up.
Another followed, this time a voice message. You hesitated before pressing play, holding your phon up to your ear to hear it clearly. His gravely distorted voice washed over you in all its unholy temptation.
“Don’t worry little doe. I know just what you need.” He paused for a moment as if considering something, “It’s been a while since you’ve had a night out. Go have some fun, I’ll catch up with you.”
“Oh no. Absolutely not. You’re not knocking me out cold again.” You said angrily.
‘Of course not. I want you to be awake for this.’
“Then… then why do you want me to go to the bar?” You asked suspiciously.
‘Surprise :)’
“Fuck.” You muttered, rubbing your temples before picking up your phone to message Luke and Han, as well as your good friend from book club.
“Just to be perfectly clear: I’m not saying yes!” You said, looking around the room with a red tint to your cheeks.
‘Not a no either.’
You could practically hear his voice, that teasing tone you knew all too well. What an ass, a stupid sexy ass.
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DATE
August 24th
“Oh look at you princess.” Anakin whistled wrapping his arms around your waist when you walked out of your bedroom in a sweet little pink dress.
“Pretty, pretty girl.” He mumbled and he nuzzled into your hair, taking a deep breath to smell the scent of your shampoo.
“Oh hush,” you giggled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “can’t be saying stuff like that, you’re gonna get me all flustered.”
“What if I want you to be all flustered?” He chuckled, tipping your head back to capture your lips and invade your mouth with a gentle caress of his tongue.
“Mmm taste as good as you look baby.” He whispered, his words fanning over your bottom lip and straight down to your core.
“Anakin…” you whined, looking up at him and wishing for mercy.
“Shhh don’t whine.” He laughed, pinching your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “I’ll quit teasin’… for now.”
“But you do look gorgeous you know?” He said sincerely, very lightly touching your cheek so as not to mess up your makeup.
“Thank you Ani.” You said shyly, leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his nose.
“So what’s the plan again? Dinner at that one Thai place you like? Then you’re going to the bar?” He asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter, his hands resting on the countertop at his sides.
“Yep that’s the plan.” You nodded, checking your bag to ensure you had everything you needed.
“Call me when you get there? You’re walking aren’t you?” He asked, looking at you with a gaze of concern that warmed your heart.
“Yes I’m walking and yes I will call when I get to the restaurant and I’ll text when I’m leaving.” You promised, tossing your mini backpack over your shoulder and giving him a hug and soft kiss.
“Alright sweetheart, I’ll see you at the bar.” He said in a low tone, smoothing out your hair as he held you close for a moment longer.
You left your home and Anakin behind, trotting down the steps to the city streets below. A walk would be good for you, plenty of time to think and plenty of time to clear your head of those thoughts before you reach your destination.
——————————————————————————
Diary Entry: August 24th
I’m so excited. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to do something for you.
I know it’s a bit presumptuous, but I think I know you fairly well and if you’re reading those nasty, raunchy books on your bookshelf… well I think it’s safe to say you might be interested in some of it for yourself right? You already think a man in a Ghostface mask with a knife is sexy.
I’m gonna give you what I think you like. I know I will love it. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time but I was always alittle too chicken to do it. Even before we started dating, before you knew about Ghost. It’s been a fantasy of mine that I’ve thought of way more often than I’ll ever admit.
But now I have your unspoken permission, well at least your non-denial of it. Which isn’t technically consent but who cares; it’s been so blurred between us already.
Honestly its super comforting the way that you so vehemently defend our relationship. I’ve never had someone go to bat for me like that before, it’s endearing. It makes me feel cared for, loved, needed.
I know it’s hypocritical, trust me I know that; but it does kind of get on my nerves as well. I want you to say yes and say it enthusiastically to Ghost. At the same time I want you to scream and kick and tell him to fuck off.
Being jealous of both sides of myself is frankly quite exhausting. I don’t know what I want other than you. I just want you. I want you to want both of me and you do, but that’s also a problem.
You think I’m two separate people and that makes me a tad worried.
The only comfort it brings me is that you aren’t enthusiastically saying yes. You’re denying the truth of course, we both know that. But you’re also keeping some loyalty to our relationship and for that I am so eternally grateful.
I love the way you love me even if you haven’t said it aloud just yet. You will soon.
——————————————————————————
Your group of friends were gathered outside the restaurant, as the last one to arrive, you of course received a light dose of good natured insults and chiding.
“There she is!” Your best girl friend Sam yelled, pointing you out to Luke and Han as you walked up the sidewalk.
“Finally! I’m starving!” Luke sighed liked he’d been waiting hours, according to your phone you were still two minutes early.
“Shut up and let’s get some food.” You snorted, pushing him through the door and into the yummy little Thai place.
After getting settled into your cozy corner booth you placed your orders and slipping into the familiar routine of gossiping and story swapping.
“How did meeting the parents go?” Luke asked, propping his chin up on the heel of his hand, his fingers drumming along his cheek.
“It went so smooth and oh my god his mom is so sweet.” You said, leaning forward in your seat.
“I was so worried they wouldn’t like me, but I think they did. Anakin said they did, I mean they really seemed to at least.” You nodded.
“Oh I’m sure they loved you. You’re the perfect girl to bring home to the parents. You’re the whole package.” Sam smiled warmly.
“You’re too sweet, giving me way too much credit.” You sighed, your smile faltering slightly.
“Anyway… yeah his mom was great. I think she was just alittle worried you know? I’m the first girl he’s brought to meet them so I feel like there was a bit of worry there at the beginning.” You explained, talking with your hands.
“She was talking about him as a kid and she just looked so… sad I guess?” You sighed, trying to find a better word to describe it but came up short. “So I think maybe she was just sad about him growing up, finally finding someone he wants to be serious with.”
“That’s so sweet.” Sam said, squeezing your hand. “I didn’t realize you were the first girl he’d brought them.”
“Yeah,” you nodded proudly. “He said he was waiting for the right one.”
“Ew that’s so gross.” Luke gagged.
“Fuck off.” You tossed a good natured insult at him, rolling your eyes despite feeling an immense sense of accomplishment… maybe a hint of guilt there too.
After the meal was finished, you all walked together out of the restaurant and set out on foot toward The Cerulean. A leisurely pace was set by Han and Luke who were happily at the head of the group while you and Sam hung back just a few steps behind.
“So he’s gonna be here tonight?” Sam asked curiously.
“Oh, yeah but he’s working though.” You said.
“Wait really?” She asked in surprise. “That doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would that bother me? If anything it’s comforting.” You scoffed.
“Well he’s like… he’s just there you know? Not participating he’s just gonna be watching.” She made a displeased face.
“Trust me, I have no qualms with being… looked out for.” You smirked.
“So you don’t mind that he’s going to be watching you the whole night?”
“No, I don’t.” You shrugged, walking the through the door as Luke held it open for the two of you to enter.
You broke off from your friends in search of Anakin, you spotted him behind the bar, animatedly speaking with a coworker that you vaguely remember Anakin referring to as ‘Trev’.
It was like you had some sort of homing beacon, Anakin immediately whipped his head toward you and beckoned you over with two fingers. He trotted around the bar to meet you halfway, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you flush against his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“How was dinner, pretty girl?” He asked, his voice low and smooth.
“It was good!” You chirped, squeezing him tightly again before he let you go. “Told them allllll about meeting your parents.”
“Good things only I hope?” He laughed.
“Of course. Good things only, always.” You nodded with a big smile.
“It’s not nearly as busy in here as usual.” You observed, scanning the large space and noticing a much lower head count than the times you’ve been here before.
“Oh I know,” Anakin nodded, “there’s some kind of opening anniversary for a pub downtown. Free beer or something like that.” He shrugged.
“Huh, well I’ll have to tell Han.” You said.
“Mhm yeah I’m sure he’d enjoy it.” He agreed, “you going too?”
“No, I’m going home when I leave here.” You shook your head.
“Alright baby, listen, I gotta go back.” He nodded toward the bar. “You know where to find me.”
With that he gave you a chaste kiss to the forehead and quickly walked back behind the counter, stealing a drink order right from under Trevor’s nose as he slid in front of him, you heard him snicker and the *thwap* of a towel snapping against his leg in retaliation as you walked back to your friends.
You spotted them off to the corner, Sam speaking with a shorter man you’d never seen before. You snuck behind her with a cheeky grin and tugged a lock of her hair gently as you passed by, she was unfazed, simply giving you a pink cheeked smile.
“Hey Han,” you called out to get his attention as you drew closer, his head following the sound until he saw you. “You know there’s a bar even going on downtown tonight?” You asked, coming to a stop just in front of him.
“Yeah, it’s at The Drunken Horseman.” He nodded, “I think a few of the guys were headed out there actually. Free beer.”
“W-well why didn’t you go?” You asked in confusion, knowing he wouldn’t have just passed it up for no reason.
“Cause a little lady I know likes it better here.” He grinned, tapping your forehead with his pointer finger.
“Aw, you didn’t have to do that Han.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. “You should’ve said something!”
“Whoa, don’t get all riled up. I don’t mind it at all.” He reassured you. “I can still do plenty of people watching from right here.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the table top he leaned against.
He waved his hand over to the left, your eyes following the gesture until your gaze was met with a younger guy, unapologetically and unsuccessfully trying to speak to a group of girls despite being seemingly incredibly wasted.
“I guess that’s true.” You laughed lightly, the pull of guilt still tugging at your guts.
“Listen, after we’re done here you should go!” You encouraged, “I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get to do something that you wanna do.”
“Babes it’s no big deal.” Luke said, popping out from his seat behind Han’s massive frame. “I think we planned on skipping out a bit early to do exactly that.”
“Really?” You sighed in relief. “Good, I’m glad.”
“We did?” Han asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Uh yes, we had a whole conversation about this yesterday you oaf.” Luke scoffed.
“Oaf?” Han let out a loud, bellowing laugh at Luke’s poor attempt at an insult, making a little smile creep up the corner of your lips as well.
——————————————————————————
You decided collectively to call it a night just a little before 11:00pm so that Luke and Han could still catch Han’s group of friends at The Drunken Horseman. You said your goodbyes to them at the door and turned to face Sam after watching them leave.
“Are you positive you’re okay with walking home alone?” She asked you worriedly, “like absolutely positive?”
“Yes, I’m absolutely positive.” You said with an appreciative smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Okay.” She nodded, satisfied with your answer.
“You better do the same.” You said, catching her arm as she started to leave with the man she’d been chatting with all night.
“I will,” she signaled for him to wait while she got up close to whisper to you, “I looked him up when I went to the bathroom earlier. Arrest records and everything.”
“Good.” You grinned. “Have fun then.”
You spun on your heel to find Anakin and tell him goodbye, heading straight to the bar and catching him in another conversation. This time with a female patron that you’d seen before.
“I don’t understand.” She scoffed.
“What don’t you understand?” He scowled.
“I just don’t get why you’re mean to me!” She huffed. “I come in here all the time and I’m always nice to you, yet you’re an ass every time I speak to you!”
“Then stop speaking to me.” He said flatly, pretending to inspect a glass that he was drying.
“I should report you to management.”
“Please do.” Anakin shot back.
“They’ll fire you, for being rude to customers.” She threatened, crossing her arms.
“They’ll ban you, for harassing employees.” He snorted.
“God. You’re ridiculous, I asked you out one time-“
“Yeah and it was one time too many.” He snapped at her.
“I have a beautiful, wonderful, amazing girlfriend.” He said sternly. “She is my everything and you, are nothing.”
“Like she’s-“
“Listen. Even if I didn’t have a girlfriend I wouldn’t go after a whore with loud ass mouth like you.” He snarled. “Leave. I’m banning you myself.”
“You can’t do that!” She yelled
“He can’t do what?” His coworker Trevor came over quickly after hearing her shout at Anakin.
“He- he’s trying to ban me.” She said angrily.
“What did you do?” Trevor asked the girl and looked over at Anakin.
“Nothing! I was just trying to order a drink and he called me a whore!”
“I did call her a whore.” Anakin willingly admitted with zero remorse.
“Wait is this the one?” Trevor asked.
“Yeah, she’s been bugging me, Jason and Stevie for the last few weeks. Comes in every now and again and won’t take a fucking hint from any of us.” Anakin grunted as he glanced over at her.
“That’s not true I w-“
“Nope. That’s enough.” Trevor said, obviously irritated, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her.
“Hey you can’t do that!” She shouted trying to grab his phone.
“You’re going on the wall honey.” He said, thumbing over his shoulder at a cork board of banned patrons.
“You’re serious?” She scoffed, “you can’t be serious.”
“Deadly. Now get out.” Trevor barked, following her angry path across the bar to ensure that she did in fact leave.
“Baby?” Anakin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you realized you’d been standing there with your mouth open as he tapped the underside of your chin.
“Anakin you didn’t tell me it was that bad.” You said, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, now standing in front of you.
“Ah.” He grumbled.
“I didn’t want to worry you sweetheart.” He said softly, taking both your hands in his. “She’s not coming back now so nothin’ to worry yourself over.” He said with a reassuring smile.
“That’s just awful though. She was doing that to three of you?” You asked in disgust.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Doesn’t happen often. Usually it’s April and Jess who get the creeps but every now and again there’s a girl who does it.”
“How much did you hear baby?” He asked, pushing hair from your face and holding your cheek.
“Just the tail end of it.” You lied.
“You know I’d never even entertain something like that don’t you, princess?” He asked, lines of worry etching into his forehead, “Never, I’d never even breathe in the direction of another woman.”
“I know.” You said with a small smile, you were being truthful. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about his faithfulness, especially now after witnessing him tear into a girl over it.
“I know I have nothing to worry about.” You said, giving his hands a squeeze.
You might not, but Anakin does. Anakin does have to worry about your faithfulness whether he knows it or not; there’s a Ghost haunting every corner of your life that has no plans on leaving anytime soon.
“Good.” He said with a warm smile, pulling you into a hug. “Are you leaving?” He asked, pulling g back slightly.
“Yeah I’m headed home now.” You nodded.
“Alright pretty girl.” He said, kissing your forehead. “Be good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home?”
“Of course.” You nodded with a big smile that faded as soon as you turned around to leave.
——————————————————————————
“I saw your girl leaving, you headed out now?” Trevor asked Anakin as he was untying his apron.
“Yep, I’m leaving too.” Anakin nodded, folding the apron and tucking it under the counter. “Unless you need me to stay?”
“Thanks for coming in to help out man.” Trevor said, clapping him on the back. “We got it from here.”
“No problem, you know I don’t mind.” Anakin said, grabbing his wallet and keys. “See ya.”
Anakin left hastily stopping at his car in the back parking lot to grab his essentials. He checked his phone and saw that you’d made an unexpected stop at the little corner store for what he assumed was a snack.
“Perfect.” He grinned, tossing his hoodie over his head and switching out his shoes.
He tucked his mask under his arm and hopped into his car, parking it up the road a bit closer to where you were, just to get it out of his work parking lot. He jumped out, locked it and slipped into the nearest alley. He grumbled but hopped the fence at the end and continued down until he hit the opposite street, running parallel to the one you’d be taking.
“One… two… three… four… there.” He mumbled to himself as he passed by alleys between buildings until he found the one he was looking for.
This particular place was perfect for his purposes, no cameras, no foot traffic, no dumpster, a brick wall on one end and a recessed entrance to the building on the left. A building that was currently up for lease, leaving it tenant free. He scaled the short brick wall on his side of the alley, using the dumpster there as a boost.
Anakin’s sneakers hit the pavement with a satisfying noise when he dropped down from above. He tugged on his gloves and mask, hitting the side button on the voice box while he walked up the alleyway, his phone in his hand.
Your little blue dot was quickly approaching and his adrenaline was running high. His body practically vibrating in anticipation of what he was about to do, with your footsteps in audible range he tucked his phone away and bunched up a black handkerchief in the palm of his leather glove.
Your long shadow came into view, the lamppost casting it down on the side walk below. It shortened with each step you took. Seeing no shadow behind you, no other footsteps, Anakin knew it was safe to enact his plan.
The very second you came into view he lunged forward, clapping his hand with the bandanna in it over your mouth. Instinctively you parted your lips to scream, allowing him to shove the fabric in your mouth as he dragged you by waist and under your arms as you kicked and thrashed.
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Part Eleven
Tag-List:
@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrott @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco
THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.
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vnusoki · 3 days
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when you meet satoru gojo for the first time, you are awe stuck by his beauty. beautifully glistening azure eyes capped with a head of white. you think he is the most beautiful man you’ve been met, the only one you’ll ever meet.
it takes only a few chats and exchanged laughs for you to fall for him, head over heels. the fluttering of butterflies a familiar feeling in your stomach but one that keep’s you on your feet all the time.
gojo notices it himself too. the way he’s leaning into your touch when we you brush fingers, or when you laugh, he repeats another joke just to elicit that beautiful sound from you again.
he doubts it’s love for the longest time. it is only when he sees you, standing next to shoko, unbothered under a tree and a slight breeze playing through your hair that he knows, this is love.
it is not a fleeting feeling, it is one that sticks to him like glue to paper.
you are irresistible. a magnet. a beacon of joy and hope.
that is, until suguru geto defects.
his defection was unexpected, but you cannot say you did not see the signs and guilt eats away at you like a maggot, feeding on the dead flesh of a fresh wound.
throughout it all, you think on what satoru must be feeling. that now, his bestest friend, minus shoko, has now left his life permanently.
suguru was one of the pillars in satorus life. now, without him, he can feel his building shaking from the shattered equilibrium of his life.
you find him in the kitchen, downing a cup of coffee. you know he’s never liked coffee, the bitter taste leaving a disgusting feeling in his mouth. it is unsurprisingly sugurus favourite coffee.
you can recall him one day, stating that the coffee helped get rid of the disgusting taste the curses he consumed left behind.
‘‘…satoru…’’
he doesn’t turn around but with his six eyes, you know he knows your there. you don’t speak, instead you wrap your arms around him from behind, your he’s sleeping onto his back. you can feel his rapidly beating heart.
you can see the tears, like crystal in the moonlight, sliding down his porcelain cheeks and you think you see his facade crack. tiny at first but noticeable, and as he stands there, the crack intensifies until he breaks.
and he is crying like never before. crying about what? he doesn’t know but he cries about everything, and you hold him, your arms a cage of compassion and love, understanding and a shared pain.
he finds he wants to stay in your arms forever…
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© VNUSOKI ! do not copy, repost or alter my works.
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jarofstyles · 3 days
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Illicit 10
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Here we are, babes. The last official part of the main Illicit story. It’s bittersweet because I finally completed something lmao but also, I really love them and their story.
Safe to say this isn’t the last you’ll see of them. I’m fully planning on doing little flashbacks and check ins with them, feel free to let me know what you would like to see/if you have any unanswered questions. Thank you for reading!
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Illicit masterlist
WC- 3.3k
Warnings- mention of wounds, stitching, having children, marriage talk, nightmares, etc
——-
“Harry, for the love of god, please be careful of your arm.” Y/N winced in worry as the man carried firewood over to their fire pit. He had not been taking his injury half as seriously as he had been taking Y/N’s concussion, treating her like the ‘delicate little bird she was.’ He’d gotten an eye roll for that. Of course he wasn’t letting her help lug the wood for their night in front of the fire. She’d requested with sleepy eyes earlier in the morning to make smores because they’d been in her dream and Harry was giving her basically anything she wanted. 
“M’fine, baby.” He laughed, appreciating her concern but knowing the injury barely stung anymore. “The stitches are coming out tomorrow, and we pushed it, keeping them until then. Only kept them because you wanted me to.” 
It had been about 2 weeks since the attack and they’d left for the lake house. As much as he knew it was terrifying for the both of them, he was utterly relieved to have Katherine behind bars. He’d made sure to keep updated by his contact in the force to know what was happening with her case. Apparently she had really lost it, but Harry didn’t give a fuck. He wanted her to rot behind bars, to live miserably and have Y/N be safe without the threat of some crazy ex-who-isn’t-an-ex looming in the background. 
Harry had kept work to a minimum, only logging in to oversee the decisions he had to make. There had been no calls besides the nightly one with his COO to ensure things were running smoothly. Other than that, his entire attention had been on Y/N. They’d barely left the house considering at first Y/N had been a bit embarrassed of her injuries. Another reason he’d hate Katherine until the day he died. Harry always was one to hold grudges, he was infamous for it. She’d never know peace if the man had anything to do with it. 
They were healing incredibly well, Harry taking the time at night to set her on the bathroom counter and wipe them clean and apply the healing ointment to them. The only one that was more than a fading scab was the one on her head along with the slight discoloration the black eye had caused. Other than that, he was more than relieved to see her bouncing back. The only thing that plagued him still was the nightmare. 
His nightmares. 
They’d always start the same, almost a play by play of what had happened to him walking into the home and up the stairs- only when he got there it had been too late. In his nightmare, the knife had already taken Y/N’s life and he couldn’t do anything to save her. He always woke up before the knife struck him, but it actually hurt him. It was a little difficult for him to admit to her, always wanting to be the strong one when it came to their pairing- someone for her to lean on fully- but she had cried once he told her and insisted that she wanted to be there for him. That a partnership was made out of balance and while she could offer him some of the same things he did for her, she was more than capable to be his emotional shoulder to cry on. It had been a tough thing to come to terms with but this week seemed to be healing. Not just physically, either. 
“Ms. Greta, please tell him to take it easy.” Y/N pouted at the older woman who brought out the tray of s’more making supplies. She’d made sure to add the peanut butter cups as requested. 
“I’m afraid if he won’t listen to you, he won’t listen to anyone.” She chuckled. “Men will be men, and that includes straining their physical health for the macho man act. One day they learn we do know what we are talking about.” A little wink was sent her way as Harry huffed, arranging the wood in the fire pit with a grumble. 
“Because I’m fine.” He stressed, standing up straight and crossing his arms. “It’s healed up nicely. I’m more than capable of setting up a little fire.” Crossing over to Y/N, he stole a kiss before grabbing the lighter and a few other things. “Just sit pretty and let your man do the work, baby. I’ve got it.” 
There was a snort heard from both women but Ms. Greta was now off the clock, wishing them a good night before retreating into the house. As much as he loved having the woman around, he really was obsessed with this alone time with Y/N. There was the residual guilt he had over her being treated less than ideally because he was juggling the faux relationship and the contract, but he knew now that he was going to have to take a bit of a step back from work in order to do that. He’d delegate as he was supposed to be doing to begin with, assign more to his assistant, take Y/N more places and on more dates out in public. He couldn’t fucking wait to attent events with her and show her off. 
He’d been waiting months to let people know who his heart belonged to, and he was finally getting the chance to do so. It was obvious now since the articles had been a media frenzy over the attack, things leaked he couldn’t pinpoint. The only thing he had been commenting on was the fact that Y/N wasn’t a mistress, Katherine wasn’t his lover that was scorned, and there was no true excuse for the actions. It was a good thing in hindsight that they were there, alone. No one had a true clue about the location and he didn’t feel like being hounded by paparazzi- though hopefully they knew better now than to test him and his hatred for the cameras.
One thing that had been burning into him, though, was a question he’d been wanting to ask her. One he knew that was a bit unorthodox but a necessary one nonetheless. 
She sat across his lap, his hoodie covering her tank top and denim shorts as her legs swung slightly while they waited for the fire to burn a bit hotter so they could roast their marshmallows.
“When would you like to get married?” He asked. “And how many kids are we thinking about?” 
The girl nearly snapped her neck as she looked at him with wide eyes, the not so casual question leaving his mouth as if it was him asking what she wanted for dinner. Harry always did find a way to shock the hell out of her but this was definitely one of the top questions that had caught her off guard.  Secretly, she’d assumed Harry had that all figured out. He always made sure to let her know how much he appreciated her opinions and her thoughts, that they were important to him- but he was a planner. Harry was the man in charge and she was happy to let him be. It took a lot of weight off of her shoulders that she wouldn’t admit to anyone else actually weighed on her. 
“Uh…” She blinked at him a few times. “I’m not sure. Kinda figured you’d be the one to pop the question. But honestly… Maybe a year? A few months? I dunno.” There was a slight lump in her throat. “I’ve no doubt I want to be with you the rest of my life so part of me feels like I’d probably be fine eloping right now if that was something you wanted but… We haven't really had the chance to be a couple out in the open. While I doubt that’s going to change much considering we feel so strongly, I think it would be kind to ourselves to let us iron out some of the details first before we fully tie the knot.” There wasn’t a right or wrong answer but it still made her a little nervous to answer. “As for kids? I’m not sure. 2? 3? I’d probably say we have one first and figure it out from there.” It wasn’t like they’d have to worry about resources externally but she knew Harry valued family more than anything and he’d want to be an active father. He’d already indulged that detail to her one night when they were particularly loved up. However, neither of them had any children so they didn’t know the workload it would entail, nor did they know how they’d work as parents. Of course they’d figure it out but it would make it a bit more clear on how many they could handle.
“First of all, as much as I’d love to call you my wife right this second… I could never deprive you of the wedding you deserve.” Y/N had told him about the fact that she had always dreamt about her wedding as a little girl. She had pinterest boards full of themes and wedding dresses she’d want to try and cake designs. He wasn’t about to deprive her of those things for his selfish needs.. Harry knew he was indeed a selfish bastard in every other facet of his life, but when it came to Y/N and his soon to be family? That was his only exception. “My mum would probably keel over dead if I did that too. Trust me, you’re going to get your princess wedding.” There was no debating that. “And for kids… I’d love to give you many, many babies.” His tone turned smooth, a little smirk lighting up his face and the twinkle of his eye. “But I think I agree. My idea had been 2-4, but I’ll take as many as you’ll give me. Always.” His hand pulled her in so he could press a kiss to her cheek, muttering a soft declaration of love. 
“Love you more.” She sighed, leaning further into his chest. “I’m so happy that we can live our lives when we get back. I know it’ll probably be a little crazy but there's no more hiding. We can go out and hold hands and kiss, people are going to know we belong to each other.” The giddiness on her face was bittersweet. “I’m so excited to be with you properly.”
The tinge of guilt hit him full on in the stomach, making him frown as he looked into the fire. He knew he had fucked up several times on this journey and Y/N just had a lot of patient and given him a lot of grace when he knew for a fact most other people wouldn’t- but that made it feel a little worse. He’d been wrong in not ditching the contract immediately. “Baby?” He said, voice quieter as he met her eyes. “I’m sorry. Genuinely sorry that I’m a stubborn son of a bitch and I didn’t just dissolve the contract and take on a lawsuit. I should have done it the day I met you because I knew you were going to mean a lot to me even there. I… I know I’ve told you a lot how you were the first and only person to ever make me feel the way you do, but it’s more than that. And my hard headed shit got us into something awful. I know I fucked up and you are more generous than I deserve but…” His fingers tenderly moved the hair from her face, stroking her cool cheek. “I’m going to work every single day for the rest of my life to make it up to you. I’m going to make you the most spoiled, well traveled, happiest woman I possibly can.” His voice stayed quiet as he searched her eyes for any hint of resentment but somehow there wasn’t any there. 
“H.. I knew what I signed up for. You’d been nothing but honest with me the night I ignored you. You laid it all out for me. I knew that you were taken in name only and I liked you so much that I agreed. I never felt like I played second to her. You can say a lot of things about you, lovely, but subtle isn’t one of those things. You never made me feel like she was important. I understood how important your business was to you- it’s the most important thing to you. Did I like seeing you with her? No. But you made it so clear to me that I was yours and you were mine, I never felt like… I never had any competition.” Y/N tried to soothe the ache she knew he felt. Of course she hadn’t liked people thinking he belonged to someone else but she knew he loved her. The most she had ever been loved, the most unashamed. 
“First, I have a correction- You are the most important thing to me. I’d give it all up for you.” That wasn’t a sentence anyone could take lightly, nor one he would ever thought he would say. It used to be the truth, but now it was far from it. “You are my life.” His gaze bore into her own as he cupped her cheek.  “There was never any competition. If we want the honest truth, I thought I’d marry as a business decision. I thought I’d probably not have any kids considering I only ever wanted children out of love. I was happy working until I was gray and about to keel over. Business was my only reason for being, and it wasn’t something I minded- but you gave my life so much more, so much color, my angel.” He’d never sounded more fond in his life, looking at his heaven sent gift perched in his lap. “I didn’t realize there was more to life until I met you. You opened my eyes and made my heart soften. I give a shit about a lot more than numbers now and it’s because of you.” 
People could say he did it himself but he knew the truth. Without meeting Y/N his life would have been the same robotic function it had been since he got out of uni, and he wouldn’t have complained. He’d never know how much he would miss out on. “I thank whoever in the world sent you to me every damn day and you know m’not religious. You are my miracle. It made me feel so fucking sick walking in that house and thinking you were hurt, I have never in my life felt that sort of terror. But I’d do it all again in order to keep you.” The scar on his arm was a reminder of that. 
“I love you, H. The most in the world.” Her eyes watered a little as she smiled at him. “I’m sorry you got scared. I was scared too, scared she would do worse with that knife though I’m still upset you got hurt at all. But I’d go through every bit of it again too.” She sniffled, feeling his thumb brush under her eye as a tear fell. “I know I want everything with you. The marriage and babies and our own house with a pool, if that’s something you want too. You’re the love of my life.” 
“And you’re mine.” He mumbled, pressing his lips to hers. “M’gonna spend every day proving that to you. Just wait and see, my angel. My heart is yours.”  
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Nails dug into Harry’s back as he rocked slowly into his girl in their brand new home. One he’d bought her as a surprise when they arrived back into the city, leaving their old memories behind in the other penthouse and moving on to the next chapter in the rest of their lives. 
“H-Harry…” She bleated, holding on to him while the other hand grabbed his face and pulled his face down so he could be kissed. “Thank you. You always take c-care of me.”
His pace as slow and deep, pressing in as far as he could go on the brand new sheets they’d picked out together. The sunset bled into their room as they breathed each other in, wrapped up in their covers on their first night sleeping there. He’d spared no expense making sure he got the best of the best for her. He was dedicated to the cause, dedicated to proving to her that she was the most precious thing to him in the world. 
“M’always going to take care of you, my love.” He nudged his nose against hers as he dipped his hips to get deeper inside of her. It was like they couldn’t get close enough to one another, her legs wrapped snug around his hips while he kept himself up with one hand, the other under her neck. The term making love was fully about this. It was unmistakable. “You were made for me.” 
He couldn’t wait to spend every morning like this for the rest of his life. The man who used to cringe at the idea of fucking anyone face first now had it as his preferred position, wanting to make sure he could see every second of her reactions to him. She was snug around his cock, taking him like it was her only job in the world. He’d had no problem doing only this for the rest of his life. 
“And you were… you were made for me. We’re made for each other.” Y/N nodded, pressing another open mouthed kiss to his lips as he kept the steady pace, hitting the delicious spot he always knew how to find. “You know my body perfectly. It’s yours forever.” It was both the truth and a bit of a taunt, knowing how much he loved when she spoke like that. 
“You are. You’re mine and m’all yours, never have to share me. I love you so fucking much, Y/N.” He whimpered as her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging on it as she was filled over and over again. He hit the perfect spot and was trying to get her to cum, trying to have her finish all over him so he could do the same and stay deep inside for a while. Craving this sort of closeness was an addiction, one he didn’t plan on cutting. The obsession with Y/N grew each and every day. “I can’t wait to make you my wife.”
The woman whined out his name at the last sentence, tugging him closer with her legs as she soaked up every bit of heat from him. It didn’t matter what happened, who tried to get in their way- they would always belong to one another. There was an understanding between both of them knowing this love was bone deep, soul deep, it only deepened by the day. When it felt like they couldn’t love each other more it just kept growing, no matter how full they felt. It was everything. 
A love like this was something people revered as pure, perfect, something that everyone craved and yearned for. Something out of a book or a movie, the sort of feeling that trumps all other people and situations. Their passion and yearning for one another had been cultivated in anything but pureness, it was made in the dark. It always made him laugh a little to know that such a concept had blossomed into a real, tangible thing that he could feel between their bodies, something he could see when he looked at her, something he could taste when he kissed her. 
A love that stayed between the lines wasn’t the type that grew stronger- that’s why he smiled when they called it illicit.
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