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#listen this fic is so good and it doesn't even have an author post i can reblog so i had to make one because THIS FIC
measuredingold · 1 day
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7:15
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author's note: hello hello hello ! the jolly fic i promised last month. on a roll :-) i have a few trips coming up and i wanted to get this sweet lil fic out before i was away from home. i haven't wrote much for jolly and i just really like how this came out. short and sweet, domestic as fuck. as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated !
pairing: joakim karlsson x reader
cross-posted on ao3
word count: 1.9k
cw/tags: fluff, sweet domestic tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, maybe some angst but it lasts 2 seconds, kissing, ~suggestive~ content, 18+ minors do not interact
Jolly wakes up slowly, a groan slipping from his lips as he stretches his limbs out across the bed. He pauses, realizing the spot beside him was unoccupied and cold, and a frown settles on his lips. Blinking, he sits up and stretches out his limbs again with another groan, looking beside him to confirm that yes, the other side of the bed is definitely empty. 
He doesn't panic, no, because he sees the bedroom door has been left ajar only slightly, but enough to let him hear you downstairs. It's a distant sound, muffled, but he can hear the clambering and chattering of pans in the kitchen and the faint hum of music. The frown on his lips slips away and a smile replaces it soon after, heart twisting. 
He loves mornings like this with you. With their more than hectic schedule now, mornings like this are few and far in-between, so he tries to never take it for granted. Even though he'd much rather drag you back into bed with him and sleep a few more hours, (he flinches at the time on the clock, 7:15), he throws his legs over the side of the bed and pushes himself up. He hisses as his feet meet the cold floor but braves it, shuffling out of your shared bedroom and down the stairs. 
The music gets louder the closer he gets to the kitchen and he's not sure what it is, something easy to listen to early in the morning. Some morning indie playlist you found on Spotify, he's sure. He smiles again when he finds you in sweatpants and an old shirt of his, hair pulled back out of your face. Your back is facing him, humming along to whatever song is playing, and he leans against the wall beside him. Jolly doesn't remember the last time he was able to just... admire you from afar. He's always in your space whenever he's home, the both of you wanting to spend as much time with each other as you can, never leaving each other's side. 
He likes seeing you like this. As corny as it sounds, this is the most beautiful he thinks you are. Still sleepy he’s sure, still in your pajamas, hair thrown in a messy ponytail, cooking breakfast for the both of you. It's something he'll never get tired of.  
After a solid two minutes of silently watching you, he shuffles over to where you stand and doesn't waste time in wrapping his arms around your middle, lips meeting your shoulder.
"Good morning."
"Was waiting for you to come over here." You hum and instantly melt back into his chest. "Were you just watching me in silence?"
"Maybe."
"Creep." 
But he can hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head before untangling himself from you, leaning against the counter to your right. 
"What's on the menu this morning?" He questions, eyeing the eggs in the pan.
"Eggs and waffles. Wanted some turkey bacon with it too, but was deeply disappointed to find out that we were out." You send him a pout before focusing back on cooking.
"Oh, you poor thing. How will you ever survive?" He teases before reaching out to poke your side gently, causing you to squeak. "I’ll make sure to add it to our ever growing list. You still want to do that today, right?"
"At some point." You nod before reaching over to turn the stove off and then reaching for one of the waffle filled plates that were placed behind him - two for you, three for him. "We also need to clean this place up before you leave. The living room makes me want to peel my skin off... and don't even get me started on your studio."
He hums, almost in an afterthought, and watches you plate the eggs. "We have time, love."
"I know, I just..." You trail off, continuing to plate the food and he watches as your brows begin to furrow like they always did when you were in thought.
He reaches up and rubs his thumb in between your brows. "Your face will get stuck like that."
"Shut up." You grumble, but your face relaxes for just a moment. "I just like having the place clean before you leave. Makes it feel better when you're gone."
It's his turn to frown, brows furrowing as he stares at you. He knows it rough when he leaves. Leaving you here all alone while he's off traveling with the band isn’t an easy thing to do. If it was his choice, he'd bring you with him every time, but he can't. You have responsibilities here... and unfortunately, his responsibilities are elsewhere most of the time.
He doesn't leave for another three weeks, though, and usually you're asking him to help clean up around the house the week prior. Something is obviously bothering you.
"What's on your mind?"
You sigh, sitting the spatula down on the counter after you finally finished plating. "I just... this time feels different. Don’t you think?” 
Jolly cocks and eyebrow up at you. "How so?"
"I don't know." You shrug and come to stand before him, leaning into him and resting your forehead against his shoulder. His arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you closer to him. "You guys are getting bigger, which is amazing. Don't ever think I hate that because I don't, but... the bigger you get means the more tours you get. The more tours you get means..."
You don't say it, voice trailing off, but he knows what your next words will be. The more tours you get means the less time at home. With you. His frown deepens at that.
"Baby..."
"And I don't want to sound selfish. Seriously, I don't! I'm so fucking proud of you, Joakim. All of you. Some of the most deserving people I've ever met, but I..." You sigh again, almost in defeat, and he feels you press closer to him, voice muffled. "I miss you. More than I usually do. It used to be easier, and it still is because I know you'll always come back, but..."
The silence that follows breaks his heart. 
He does remember this last time being away in Europe was a little rougher than normal, constantly thinking about you, wishing you were there with him. It might be because last time they were there you were with him, taking leave from work to join him on their European headliner for this new album. The only thing that really got him through was the fact he knew that when he got home, you'd be right there waiting for him.
"But?" 
"But... it just sucks." You pull back just enough to look up at him, a sad smile settling on your lips. "Wish I could just go with you and not worry about anything else.”
"You could," He's quick to respond. "You've always had that option."
"I know." You mumble, face pressing back against his shoulder. "I feel bad, though. Making you support the both of us. Plus, you know how much I hate flying. I couldn't stand it." 
Jolly laughs at the tiny groan you let out, probably remembering your flight last year to the UK with him and the rest of the band. You had begged Matt to switch seats with you, so he could be by the window and you in the aisle with Jolly squished between you two. One look out the window - while you were still on the ground - had sent you in a spiral. He remembers having to hold your hand the entire flight, and when it was allowed, lifting up the armrest so you could press yourself into his side. He hadn't minded it one bit, finding it endearing that you put all your trust in him to keep you safe.
"You and flying don't mix well." He teases, hands now rubbing up and down your arms. "But... you know I don't mind providing for you."
"I know you don't."
"And I love taking care of you."
"I know you do." You whine, pulling back again to pout up at him. "But you know I can't let you do that. My brain tells me no."
"Tell your brain to get over it and let your boyfriend take care of you." He leans forward, planting a kiss to the center of your forehead. He feels your arms circle around his middle and he smiles against your skin.
"If only it were that easy." He pulls back to find you still staring at him, but a smile has since replaced the pout on your lips. "This'll only suck for a little bit, then it'll become our new norm and it'll get easier. I'm just cranky about it now, but I know we'll figure it out."
"We always figure it out." He hums. "Just tell me what you need from me to make it easier on you while I'm away, and I'll do it."
"There's nothing you can do.” You pause. “Except, maybe, right now… a kiss could possibly fix my cranky mood."
He watches your gaze drop from his down to his lips, and then back up, your own lips puckering dramatically. Jolly huffs out a laugh before happily obliging and leans down, lips pressing against yours gently. Nothing too crazy, a sweet peck, because he still hasn't brushed his teeth, and he pulls back seconds later.
"I love you." You say happily, eyes fluttering shut briefly. 
"I love you, too, baby."
"Alright, I’m not allowed to complain for the rest of the day. Let's eat before all my hardwork gets cold." You step on your tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek before pulling away entirely, reaching around him for both of your plates. "And maybe after, shower? Then go grocery shopping? The fridge is running on fumes... I think I used the last of the eggs and we have maybe half a glass of milk left."
He perks up at that, following you over to the chairs that sit at the island in the middle of the kitchen, plucking his plate from your hands before settling down in his chair. "A shower, you say?"
"Of course that's the only thing you heard." You deadpan, but he doesn't miss the smirk on your lips.
"Sorry. You know my brain likes to focus on the important stuff."
"Perv." You tease, but the smirk has finally settled on your lips fully. "Does that sound good, though?"
"Mhm. Sounds good to me, love."
"Oh! And maybe later we could go to the thrift store we wanted to check out last week? Hit up some other shops, too."
"Oooh, yes. That sounds like a perfect plan.”
It's almost as if the worry from earlier is forgotten as your conversation continues through breakfast, and when you're finished putting your dirty dishes away and dragging him up the stairs to go shower (among other things), Jolly knows that the two of you will eventually figure it out. He knows you two can weather any storm, just like you have for the last few years, and that these worries won't mean much to the two of you in the future. He knows wherever he goes, you’ll be right there waiting for him, and he hopes you know he’d do the same for you.
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sebscore · 11 months
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if you feel comfortable doing so, how do you think the grid would react if gzd was going through a rough patch and she’s being like really quiet and in her head?
i’m kinda slipping back into this era and i just need the grids comfort
THIS IS ALL I NEVER WANTED
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pairing: lando norris x driver!reader / daniel ricciardo x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x sebastian vettel
warnings: reader feels defeated and is ready to give up. swearing. mention of sexism.
author’s note: the comfort fic is finally hear, lmao :) sorry that it took me this long, got caught up with gentle hit, but it’s here now !!
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''That's the car of Y/L that goes into the gravel- another DNF for the young driver.'' Crofty commented as he watched her retire from the fight for the third consecutive race. 
Meanwhile in the car, Y/N's radio was bombarded by her engineer. ''We're so sorry, Y/N. A podium was possible, but we'll keep pushing harder for next time. We'll debrief.'' Marco apologised, frustration and guilt audible in his voice. 
''Understood.'' The indifferent tone came as a surprise to the team and viewers, but it was understandable as the driver hadn't been able to finish a race in over a month. 
The ride back to the paddock was humiliating to say the least. The pitiful looks from fans, the judging eyes of critics and the loud whispers didn't do much to brighten the dark cloud that was her mind. 
Her post-race interviews also weren't a great help to her already declining confidence. 
''It's the third consecutive DNF for you- how are you managing to stay positive and to not lose hope in the car?'' Nathalie asked her, sounding compassionate. 
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''Nothing is positive at all,'' she sarcastically chuckled, ''I think I'm doing everything right and then it all goes wrong for some reason.'' 
''I'm working hard with the team, but it doesn't seem like it's paying off at the moment. I'm just very disappointed and I- yeah, well, I hate the car.'' 
The reporter in front of her wasn't used to the visible pessimism of the female driver. Y/N was known for her cheerful and up-beat character, always open for a chat and ready to take on any challenge. That figure seemed to be missing at the moment. 
''I hope it gets better for you, Y/N. You're an amazing driver and I wish you good luck for the next race weekend, thank you so much for talking to us.'' Nathalie rounds up the interview before signalling to her cameraman to stop the filming. 
Y/N was about to leave, but a gentle grab of her wrist stopped her. ''Hey, darling- don't let this get you down, alright? There are many people rooting for you here, me included, and we all want to see you do well. You have incredible talent and we know these lasts results aren't a reflection of that.'' 
The Sky Sports presenter had a soft spot for the young woman ever since her arrival to the paddock. Nathalie has always been amazed by Y/N's ability to shrug off all the sexist remarks and to prove the people that doubt her wrong. 
''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' The soft smile on Y/N's face was a fake one, even a child could spot that. However, her words and gratefulness were genuine and that's all that mattered to Nathalie. 
The driver moved quickly between the different journalists, not in the mood for the long and lovely chats that would have happened had she crossed the chequered flag. ''If one more person reminds me of all the DNF's, I'm going to knock myself out with one of these microphones.'' She mumbled to her team's press officer, making the woman laugh but also look at Y/N with a bit of concern. 
Luckily for her, all the media responsible people must have listened to her prayers and went easy on her- maybe sensing her agitation and worsened mood. She and her press officer moved back to the team's hospitality, where a dreaded team briefing would take place. 
''Obviously these aren't the results that we want. We want wins, podiums and points.'' Her team principal started off the meeting, standing at the head of the table. ''It is clear that changes need to be made, whether that be the car, the strategy or the driver even.'' The eyes of the team shifted from their leader to the young woman staring daggers at him. 
''It's not my fault that the fucking engine blows up or that another drivers decides he wants to play bumper cars.'' Y/N defended herself, not seeing why she should be replaced. 
He shook his head. ''I didn't say it was your fault, but we have to look at all the options and that includes you, Y/N.'' The man clarified, taking a deep breath. 
The woman rolled her eyes, causing Marco to send her a stern look that said ''Please, don't make this harder on yourself.'' She got his sign and sat up straight in her chair, figuring her slumping didn't give off a great impression. 
The briefing continued for another hour, going over all the alternatives they had and all the work they had to do while waiting for the next race weekend. ''Alright- thank you, everyone! Have a great break.'' The team principal dismissed the team. 
Y/N was the first one to get up and leave, debating if she would slam the door, but she didn't want a Kevin x Guenther moment with her boss. 
By the time she was on her way to her hotel, most fans had gone home themselves and the paddock was occupied by crew members cleaning the place up. Y/N had a slow pace while walking, not in any hurry to leave the circuit. 
''You're going back to the hotel?'' A voice behind her spoke up, making the female driver yelp as she didn't expect someone to walk up on her. 
Y/N turned around, Lando looking at her with a grin. ''Did I scare you?'' He laughed, finding amusement in making his friend flinch. 
''You could have been a serial killer for all I know, you idiot.'' She slapped his arm, the tension leaving her body as it was only Lando and not some creep. 
''Only on track.'' He winked. 
The young woman frowned at his action. ''Please, never do that again.'' Her feigned disgust with his wink resulted in a light push from her friend. 
''So… you're going to the hotel now?'' Lando asked her again, not having received an answer yet. 
Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, I could use some sleep before the flight tomorrow.'' 
''You, uh, wanna take a car together to the hotel? You know- that way we're not wasting gas, I guess.'' He nervously asked, mumbling the question almost under his breath. 
''Sure,'' Y/N chuckled, ''Seb will be proud of us.'' 
They decided to take his car as she wasn't in the mood to drive anymore and Lando didn't seem to mind. She was grateful for Lando's company, at least her bad day would end on a good note. 
''Sorry about the race today, I know you could have done more.'' Despite being competitors, they were also great friends and it's not fun seeing your friends have bad results. 
Y/N sighed. ''My team- they're, uh, thinking about replacing me.'' She wanted to get her worries off of her chest and Lando bringing up the race seemed like the perfect oppurtunity for it. 
''What?'' He exclaimed, not anticipating that sentence to come out of her mouth. 
''They say they just have to think about all the changes they could make to get better results, but they've been talking an awful lot about the junior drivers so I'm just preparing myself for it.'' She clarified for him, resting her head against the window. 
Lando let her words sink in. ''They- they can't possibly do that, you're one of the best drivers on the grid.'' It came out louder than he intended, but the thought of one of his best friends not being with him on track anymore upsets him. 
''They can do that,'' she sarcastically chuckled, ''I'm impressed I lasted this long- I just know the FIA will be throwing a party now that they don't have to be feminists anymore.'' 
''What do you mean 'lasted'? You're not going anywhere, we have enough races left where you can show your true skills.'' Lando took his eyes off the road to look her in the eye, perhaps wanting her to see how serious he was. 
Y/N shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to talk about it any further. 
The car stopped in front of a red light. ''Hey,'' Lando put his hand on top of hers, ''I'm being serious. We've been racing against each other for over 10 years now- you're a good driver. You'll probably be a World Champion one day.'' 
''You really mean that?'' Her usual confident demeanour had been traded in for an insecure one, her voice coming out smaller than normal. 
He chuckled, nodding his head. ''Of course, I wouldn't lie to you.'' The gentle way he was looking at her assured her that he was in fact being serious and meant everything he said. 
''Thank you,'' Y/N turned her hand and squeezed Lando's, ''now, shut up and drive me to the hotel!'' She pushed his hand away. ''Enough of this emo shit.'' 
''This is the one time I am being nice to you and you just reject my love.'' 
''Stop being so emotional, Norris.'' 
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''There she is!'' Daniel loudly announced as Y/N stepped onto the plane, his hands up in the air. 
She tiredly waved at everyone, exhausted from the lack of sleep she had gotten. The young woman groggily sat down next to her Australian colleague, Michael sitting in front of them. 
Daniel snickered at her disoriented state. ''Good morning to you, mate.'' He greeted her, his infamous bright smile on his face. 
''It's fucking early, what are you so happy about?'' She mumbled, while trying to find a good sleeping position. 
''I'm grateful that I get to live another beautiful day, Y/N! We don't appreciate our existence enough, we need to-''
''I'll be grateful for my life when you shut up and let me sleep.'' She interrupted him, closing her eyes and pulling her hat slightly over her face. 
The McLaren driver opted for another teasing comment, but he could see the obvious exhaustion she had going on and let her be, a light pat on the shoulder working as his way to say ''have a good nap''. 
About an hour later the turbulence of the plane woke her up from her much needed sleep. Y/N took her hat off and noticed Daniel still awake, scrolling on his phone while listening to music through his headphones. 
A soft push against his arm brought his attention from his device to the woman next to him, immediately smiling upon seeing that she's awake. ''Sleepyhead.'' 
The beam on his face slowly changed into a nervous frown, worrying his friend. ''What is it? The reality of life finally settled in?'' Y/N awkwardly said, trying to cheer him up. 
''No, uh, it's just that uhm interview you did with Nathalie yesterday- I watched it.'' He answered, sympathy written all over his face. 
''Oh,'' she sat up straight in her seat, ''well, you know it was just after the race so obviously I was very frustrated. You know how it is.'' The driver tried to come off as nonchalant, failing horribly. 
''Lando told me, Y/N.'' Daniel revealed, wanting her to drop the 'it's not a big deal'-act. 
She sighed. ''Oh, that little snake.'' She muttered under her breath. 
''No, I'm glad that he told me. He said he's never seen you so defeated and the way you were talking to Nathalie- you haven't given up, have you?'' Daniel had seen how her recent race results had affected her, but he wasn't aware how deep her frustrations and insecurities had settled in. 
Her silence to his question was an answer in itself. 
''You've been working your ass off since you were like what? 5-6? You're not gonna throw all of that away just because of 3 bad races, right? That's nothing like you.'' The Australian ranted, baffled over her ruined confidence. 
Y/N glanced outside her window, seeing they were high above the clouds. ''I'm not throwing anything away, it's just… my teams seems to have already made up their mind and are just waiting on the right time to tell me that someone else is taking my place.'' The young woman clarified, her words not helping Daniel's growing worries. 
''They would be fucking idiots to replace you, you know that.'' He sneered, rolling his eyes at the thought of another person driving in her seat. 
She weakly chuckled at his response, not finding much humour in the insult to her bosses. 
Daniel's shoulder gently pushed against hers. ''Hey, maybe you need to talk to Seb or Lewis, they're better at this pep-talk shit than I am.'' He suggested, figuring the two older men might have more of an influence on her. 
Y/N let his words process for a few seconds, considering seeking a listening ear in either of the world champions. ''I- I don't know, Dan. They probably have better things to do.'' 
''Like what?'' 
''I don't fucking know- planting trees, feeding Roscoe, whatever.'' She blurted out, making both of them laugh at the random activities they could be doing. 
''Just think about it, I think you'd feel a lot better after talking to one of them.'' Daniel didn't want to push her, knowing it would have the opposite effect on what he wanted for her. 
A tired smile made its way onto her face. ''I will, thank you.'' 
''Good,'' his face mirrored hers, ''and if they do replace you, they're just like Netflix.'' 
''Like Netflix?'' 
''A bunch of cunts.'' 
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''I've never seen her that quiet.'' Sebastian mumbled to the Brit next to him, observing the young woman who sat slumped over in her chair. 
Lewis looked over at her, being as equally bewildered as his German colleague. ''I don't blame her, all the stuff they've been saying about her is awful.'' He whispered back. 
''What do you mean?'' Sebastian frowned. 
The Mercedes driver uncomfortably shifted in his head, leaning more towards his friend. ''People have been saying a lot of shit on social media and those fucking annoying journalists certainly don't help. Also, that interview their team principal did.'' 
Sebastian rolled his eyes at the mention. ''Hanna showed me, that was so out of line. He knows people have been wanting her out since the day she got in- shame on him for making all of that so public.'' 
Her team principal had given a quite lengthy interview over the break between the race weekends, publicising the team's problems and their possible solutions, which included a hint to a potential driver change-up. 
''None of the DNF's were even her fault, it's absolutely ridiculous.'' The slander on her name greatly upset Lewis, aware of the talent she possessed and it made him angry that there was even a chance that she might not be on the grid with them the next year. 
''I know and it has taken such a toll on her, Daniel said he talked to her, but I'm a little worried.'' The Aston Martin driver told Lewis, his puzzled look turning into one of sadness. 
The Brit scratched his voice. ''Maybe you can give her some confidence? You've known her for a long time, I'm sure she'll appreciate it.'' 
Sebastian slowly nodded his head, figuring the World Champion might be right. ''Yeah, I'll talk to her later.'' He confirmed, still watching the obvious daydreaming woman from across the room. 
The driver's briefing went on for about half an hour more, the director seeing the visible boredom on every person's face and calling it a day for everyone. 
Y/N couldn't have been more relieved that the meeting was finally over, wanting nothing more than going back to her own hospitality and figuring out ways to make the car work, and actually finish this time around. 
She was one of the last people to leave the briefing room, only George, Lewis and Sebastian walking behind her. The latter tapping her shoulder. ''Hey, haven't talked to you today.'' 
''Yeah, lots of briefings with the team, you know.'' The younger one responded, giving him a quick glance. 
''How's that going?'' 
The woman remained silent for a few moments, considering how much she should tell her mentor about the current state of her place in the team. ''Uhm, well, it's going… decent, I guess.'' Y/N muttered, trailing off. 
''Decent?'' Sebastian repeated, as if asking ''are you serious?'' 
''There are like a bunch of reporters around us, what do you want me to say?'' She replied, a defensive tone to her voice. 
The German patted her back, sensing her agitation. ''It's okay, let's discuss somewhere private.'' He calmed her down, suggesting a different place to have a conversation. 
''Okay.'' 
They opted for her personal driver's home, that being the closest space where they could talk with just the two of them. Some of her team's staff had given the Aston Martin driver some weird looks while they walked through the hospitality, but he brushed them off. 
The pair sat down on her small couch once they arrived, not much space between them. 
Y/N felt some nerves settling in her stomach as she waited for Seb to start speaking, not knowing what he was going to tell her. 
''I'm just gonna be straightforward,'' he started off, ''you can't continue with this attitude, cause you're only setting yourself up. You are a great driver, Y/N. We all have our off weeks, we're not perfect.'' 
''I understand that this isn't a nice situation to be in. Trust me, this green vegetable that I'm driving isn't doing much better at the moment,'' he chuckled, making her crack a smile, ''but if there's one person that can completely turn their season around, it's you.'' 
Y/N avoided eye-contact with him, not sure how to respond to his kind and encouraging words. ''I appreciate that, Seb. I'm not giving up, it's just… very difficult and people are constantly bringing it up, and making articles and shit- that doesn't help me at all. I'm still gonna do my best, but… yeah- it's just difficult.'' 
''I know it's hard and I've heard the media has been hard on you. That's what they do and they see you as an easier target for clicks and whatnot,'' Sebastian rolled his eyes at his own mention of the media, ''But you're better than believing their words.'' 
''You are a talented driver, you have so much potential. Do you think I would have spent all these years with you if I thought you shouldn't be in F1?'' He asked her, a look on his face that told her he wanted an answer. 
The young woman timidly shook her head. ''No, you wouldn't have done that.'' 
Sebastian smiled at her response. ''See?'' He put his arm around her, pulling her closer into him. ''Whether you believe it or not, you're leading this new generation. You're a decent car away from being a World Champion, you know that right?'' 
''Did you talk to Lando? He also said that.'' Y/N nervously grinned. 
''Just accept the truth!'' The German squeezed her shoulders. ''You've proven that you can do anything. You don't want to let down all those young girls that started karting because of you, right? What message would it send to all of them that their role model quit, because she got bumped off the road or her car simply decided to turn itself off.'' 
''You're right,'' she sighed, admitting to herself she needed to drop the pessimistic attitude, ''I don't just owe it to myself, but also to them.'' 
Sebastian nodded along to her words, letting out a deep breath. ''I'm relieved you're seeing it, I don't like seeing you like this. It's weird not seeing you smile or making fun of the drivers.'' He smirked, patting her shoulder. 
''I guess everyone deserved an off-day, tomorrow I'll start again.'' Y/N grinned, laughing at Sebastian's reminder of her fondness to poke fun at their colleagues. 
The senior driver gave her one last squeeze and stood up from the couch, adjusting his pants. ''No more frowns, alright? You're gonna do great this weekend and you're gonna show everyone why you deserve your seat.'' 
Y/N nodded, more confident than when she first walked back into her driver's room. ''Yes, I'm gonna do my best, Seb.'' 
They bumped their fists as if to solidify it was going to be a great race weekend for them both. 
''And go easy on me tomorrow with the teasing.'' 
''I'd rather be run off the track again then let that happen.''
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wtfsteveharrington · 5 days
Text
take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader
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push the reset button we're becomin' something new
description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.
content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.
author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!
even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.
But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym. 
It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising. 
She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.
And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice. 
Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall. 
The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out. 
No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story. 
As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink. 
“Hey - Been looking for you.”
Carmen.
Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you. 
He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick. 
There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were. 
“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.” 
Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story. 
You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell. 
T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.
Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door. 
Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector. 
And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe. 
You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.
Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.
“Hey.” 
You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night. 
He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand. 
“M’still mad at you.” 
He winces but he knew it was coming. 
The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else. 
And you still won’t look at him. 
He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.
Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes. 
“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least. 
Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since. 
The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.
Until now. 
You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart. 
He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability. 
A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that. 
Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.” 
You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss ​​to your head, sighing into your hair. 
“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.” 
The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. 
“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening. 
He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together. 
Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you. 
Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment. 
Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.
He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.” 
Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you. 
Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor. 
Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!” 
He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy. 
It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. 
“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.
You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys. 
There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen. 
“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.” 
189 notes · View notes
dreamingundone · 10 months
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When The Morning Comes
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Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OFC (could be read as reader-insert, no use of Y/N) Summary: Jake doesn’t do serious. He was really upfront and honest about that. So why is he he one getting really tired of saying goodbye every morning? Rating: PG-13 for swears. Words: 3K+ Author’s Note: Here I am again writing fic in the year 2023 because I haven’t stopped thinking about Jake Seresin since last summer. This is slightly Band of Brothers adjacent because I’m incapable of putting away that particular hyper-fixation but you don’t need to know anything about it to understand this. Disclaimer: I don’t own the character Jake or Top Gun: Maverick. Please don’t re-post or translate my work without my permission. There's probably some inaccuracies here though I did my best to Google a few things, but even so, please be nice.
He watches her as she works out of the corner of his eye. He tells himself that he's not seeking her out every time he wanders the corridors at the hangar, but it just happens.
She's impossible to ignore.
There's a sinking feeling in his gut as she very much doesn't make eye contact with him, and in fact, she brushes by him as she leaves the room without so much as a glance.
"All set?" He asks Rooster gruffly, who arches an eyebrow.
"Didn't think you cared so much, Hangman." He gets up from the exam table, hands brushing over the thin line of stitches near his eyebrow.
Jake rolls his eyes.
"Oh!" Rooster says suddenly, eyes lighting up. "It's not me you're here for--"
"Shut up."
Bradshaw's not lying though, which makes Jake grit his teeth even harder.
"Secret's safe with me." He says with a wink, leaving Jake standing in Sick Bay by himself, questioning basically every life decision he's made to get to this point.
.
Six months earlier
"Listen up!" Maverick calls over the din, and when he can't get anyone's attention except for Dagger Squad, Admiral Bates does the job with a sharp whistle.
The hangar goes quiet, and they sit quietly as they listen to the mission briefing. Three months of training, and then they'll be shipped out to God knows where for God knows how long.
While he's pretty used to this particular way of life by now, he sees some of the other squads he doesn't know sharing nervous looks.
There's a group standing closer to the door that he's never had the pleasure to interact with - the medical staff from Sick Bay. The doctors look bored, but there's a new medic who's caught his eye from the minute he walked into the room.
She's taking notes or something, and Jake smirks as she looks up, meeting his eyes briefly. She rolls her eyes and looks back to her notebook, which only makes him smile wider.
He introduces himself the first time he gets a chance, later at the Hard Deck.
"I'm Jake," he says, holding out a hand.
"Good for you." She says, not looking up from her phone.
"Waiting on someone?"
"Someone else, definitely."
There's something about the way she says it - there's no heat in her words really, even though he knows she's trying to put him off. Look -- everyone thinks Jake is an asshole, and he knows he can be sometimes, but he doesn't want to stick around where he's clearly not wanted, even if all he wants to do is sit here with her and learn everything there is to know about her.
"Enjoy your drink," he says, and leaves her there looking a little surprised, if the crease between her brows is any indication.
.
It's a few days later when he has an excuse to see her again, though not under the circumstances he would have wished.
He's being semi-held up between Javy and Rooster, and he's scowling. "I'm fine," he grumbles.
"Sure, tell that to the control panel you smashed your head off of." Javy says, and Jake would roll his eyes, it's just that he can't really see straight, so he thinks he'd just pass out.
Okay, so he had to emergency land. At least he didn't have to eject.
"Put him here." He hears her voice, kind but authoritative. "Lieutenant Seresin, I thought I told you the other night I wasn't interested."
Javy snorts, and Rooster bites back a grin.
"Desperate times calls for desperate measures." Jake says, groaning as he lies back on the exam table.
Then she's there, looming over him, and the irony isn't lost on him that this is the first time she's looking him directly in the eye. Well, her and her flashlight, anyway.
"Pupils a bit larger than I'd like." She mutters. He finds himself really unable to do anything other than watch her as his vision wavers. "Concussion, obviously." She says. "Is the light bothering you?"
"A little." He answers.
She hums in sympathy. "You need stitches. Give me a minute." She says, and then her warmth is gone, and the bright light overhead is all he can see, making him close his eyes.
He sighs. This really isn't the impression he wanted to make.
Dimly, he registers Javy and Rooster leaving the room, saying they needed to go tell the rest of the Daggers how he was doing. He's sure Phoenix and Bob are pacing somewhere. Mav, too.
"Stupid." He mutters.
"What?" She asks, sounding offended.
"Nothing. Not you." He says, eyes opening as she leans over him again, hissing when she wipes an antiseptic over his forehead. "A little warning would have been nice."
"Don't be a baby." She chides, face full of determination. "Stay still."
He lets her work for a few minutes before he tries again. "I meant that I felt stupid for this."
She meets his eyes quickly. "Sounded like you did what you had to do so you didn't kill yourself."
"You were listening?" He asks, surprised. He feels dumber that he didn't realize that. Of course the medics were on standby.
"It's my job." She says. She pauses for a minute, glancing at her wrist. Her wristwatch is turned the wrong way round, so the face of it is on the inside. It's very military, and it makes him smile. It's how he can spot another Navy guy a mile away.
Hers is different than his, though, the face worn and scratched.
"Is that thing even ticking?" He asks as she gets back to work.
Her tongue is between her teeth as she completes the next few stiches, the sight making him a little distracted.
"It was my great-grandfather's."
He feels like he's bothering her, so he doesn't ask any more questions, but she surprises him by continuing.
"He's the reason I wanted to get into medicine. He was an Army medic."
"And that was his service watch?"
"Made it through the drop to Normandy and back."
Jake's eyebrows rise. "A paratrooper."
She nods. "He died before I was old enough to figure out what I wanted to do, but this watch has kept on ticking. Feels like I've got him over my shoulder advising me on what to do."
"That's really nice." Jake says honestly, and again he catches a surprised look on her face.
"I'm sorry," she says, maybe seeing the way his features droop. "You can sit up," she says off-hand before continuing. "I wasn't really fair to you. I've just-- to be honest, I've heard some things. Made me think..."
Jake nods. He knows what everyone says. And to be fair, he's never given anyone other than his friends any reason to doubt the rumors about him. What's the point? He'd rather let everyone on North Island think what they want than spending time fighting his reputation. It's not worth it, especially when he leaves often for months at a time.
"Anyway. That wasn't fair. I'm sorry."
He shakes his head, pasting on a smile he doesn't really feel. "No harm done. I don't really... I don't really do serious. So the rumors aren't far off." He doesn't know why he says it. It's the truth - he's scared of getting attached. He's no good at being someone's boyfriend and he knows it. But still -- it feels weird to say it out loud to her.
"Well. Okay then, Lieutenant. You're going to be grounded for awhile, unfortunately. Come back next week and we'll see how you're doing."
.
Over the next few weeks, they do more mission prep, which means the medical team and the Daggers are together more often than not. They'll all be together as a wing on the carrier, and it's important that everyone knows all the details of every minute of the mission.
They have enough downtime too, and that's where he really finds himself in deep trouble. All because of her.
Phoenix has taking a liking to her, and really, everyone else has too. It's hard not to like her.
He's watching her now, contemplative eyes as he tilts his beer bottle back to his lips, and his heart does a funny little flip at the sound of her laugh.
He's surprised when she makes her way over to him at the end of the night, elbowing him lightly.
"All alone, Hangman?"
He smiles wryly. "Only got room in my heart for one lucky lady, Doc."
The nickname was her great-grandfather's, and it's stuck to her too. The first time Mav called her that, she got a little misty-eyed, and Jake found it so endearing he could barely look at her.
She rolls her eyes. "You get back up in the air tomorrow."
He nods, having been cleared by the medical team earlier that day. He can't wait. He misses the adrenaline and the sound of the engines roaring underneath him.
"Thanks to you," he says, nudging her in return. She'd been like a drill sergeant the last few weeks, watching him like a hawk to make sure he stuck to paperwork and didn't overwork himself while he recovered from his concussion.
"Just doing my job." Her standard answer. He thinks it's interesting that someone so confident has a hard time accepting any praise.
"No, it's something else." He says, taking another pull from his bottle. "You were born to do this, I think. You've got a special touch."
She blinks rapidly, and for a horrifying moment, he thinks she might cry. She clears her throat. "How many of those have you had?" She gestures towards the bottle in his hand. "I said one beer, Seresin."
"Not even a full one." He assures her. "And I mean that, Doc."
The way she's looking at him sends his heart racing. Is she--? No, he's imagining it, that she looks like she's leaning in a little, her lips parted invitingly. That's impossible.
"Thank you, Jake." She says softly, and it's the first time she's ever called him by his first name. It takes everything inside of him to stop from leaning into her a little bit more, and in the end he doesn't fight it.
They sit there, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, in a comfortable silence for the rest of the night. And if her pinky brushes his just a little on the bartop, he doesn't draw attention to it. He just lets it happen, enjoying the warmth unfurling inside of him.
.
The briefing where they get their assignments for the mission is tense. This is a dangerous one. Top secret, and not even the medic team is allowed in the room with the Daggers while they get briefed.
There's some speculation that they won't even come along - that this mission is so secret, the fewer eyes on it, the better.
It makes something twist inside him, the thought that he might not see her until he comes home from deployment. He hasn't had that feeling in a really, really long time.
Afterwards, he's wandering the corridors aimlessly when he quite literally runs smack into her.
"Oh!" She says, surprised, and he grabs at her arms instinctively, holding her upright.
"Sorry, Doc."
"Are you okay?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Fine. I--" He looks up, meeting her eyes. "Will you go to dinner with me?"
She swallows. "What?"
"Look, I'm not looking for anything serious. I'm starting to think you aren't either. But I also like you, and I'd like to take you to dinner. If you want." It all comes out in a rush.
"Okay." She says quietly.
"Okay?"
"Okay." She repeats.
.
They don't even make it through dinner.
He's so distracted by the sight of her in civilian clothes that he can barely form a coherent sentence all night.
It must show on his face, and he really feels like an asshole for it, but she also responds to it, so he doesn't stop himself from staring at her, not this time.
Somewhere in the middle of the dinner course, she puts down her fork. "Are you going to take me home now?"
He doesn't think he's ever scribbled his signature on a check so fast in his life.
After that it's all a blur of heated gazes, wandering hands, and finally, mouths meeting. It's all flushed skin and, for Jake, trembling hands. He tries not to examine that particular fact too much.
In the morning, she leaves before he wakes up. He feels a little weird about it, but it's also how it has to be. It's how he's always done things. And if that's good for her too, even better.
.
They go on like that for weeks. He tries not to think about how each morning it's harder and harder to watch her get dressed in the haze when she thinks he's still asleep.
He tries not to think about how she always looks back over her shoulder before she goes, something soft in her eyes.
He tries not to count down the days between now and his deployment date.
On a Friday morning, he's making no show of the fact that he's awake when she slides out from under the sheets and starts dressing.
"You could stay." He says, voice a little hoarse.
She pauses, but pulls her shirt over her head. "Don't do that." She says, voice quiet but firm.
"Just for breakfast."
"This is what you wanted, Jake. I'm just trying to make this easy for both of us."
His face twists. "And I can't change my mind?"
"Actually, no." She says, voice harsh. "Because you've said to me a hundred times that you weren't looking for anything serious. Staying longer, spending days together... that's serious. I'm just doing what you wanted."
Maybe I don't want that anymore. The thought rattles around in his brain, but he doesn't say it.
"It doesn't have to mean anything." He says without thinking, and the look she gives him is withering.
"You've been doing your best not to let any of this mean anything, Seresin."
"We're going by last names now?"
"For fuck's sake, Jake!" She hisses, tugging her pants on. "I should have trusted my instincts with you. I should have listened to my gut."
He sits up straighter now, hurt lacing his tone. "So you've just been miserable for the last few months, right? None of this has been pleasurable for you, and that's my fault."
"I didn't say that."
"You know what? Don't let me keep you. Must have been a moment of insanity." He says, voice hard. "You're right. Keep it simple, keep it meaningless. That's perfect."
She doesn't say anything else as she gathers the rest of her stuff and slams the door behind her.
He doesn't see her again until the final mission briefing before deployment.
They're being deployed to the same carrier. That wasn't supposed to happen. The whole reason he decided to take a chance, to finally act on these feelings that he's afraid to identify... it was spurred on by the idea that he may come back in a year to find her elsewhere.
Their eyes meet across the hangar. There's nothing friendly in them now.
He swallows hard. This is going to be a shit-show.
.
They're out in the middle of the goddamned ocean when he, yet again, has to race to Rooster's rescue. It's not nearly as terrifying as the last time it happened, but he's still furious at his friend for risking his life once again. Rooster skids into the carrier with his landing gear barely hanging on, and the rough landing has him doing his best impression of Jake himself all those months ago when he nearly smashed his face into the control panel.
He has to help Rooster get to the Sick Bay because he can't do it on his own, and no matter how much he wants to avoid seeing her, he needs to get help, and Doc is the best, there's no doubt about it.
They ignore each other, though he watches her. He can't help it. She handles Rooster like he's the most important person in the room, and it twists something inside Jake, though he knows that's what makes her invaluable.
She leaves before he can say anything to her.
"All set?" He asks Rooster gruffly, who arches an eyebrow.
"Didn't think you cared so much, Hangman." He gets up from the exam table, hands brushing over the thin line of stitches near his eyebrow.
Jake rolls his eyes.
"Oh!" Rooster says suddenly, eyes lighting up. "It's not me you're here for--"
"Shut up."
Bradshaw's not lying though, which makes Jake grit his teeth even harder.
"Secret's safe with me." He says with a wink, leaving Jake standing in Sick Bay by himself, questioning basically every life decision he's made to get to this point.
In the corridor outside Sick Bay, she's lingering. Pacing.
Jake stops. He's not sure how to get past her without speaking to her. And truthfully, he knows he owes her an apology. He owes her more than that, but he doesn't know how.
"He's going to be okay," She says. "Just so you know."
"I know. Had you fixing him up, after all."
"You sounded scared on the comms."
He shakes his head. "He's reckless."
"He's your friend. It's okay to worry." It's okay to feel things, she doesn't say, but he hears it like she shouted it.
He puts his hands on his hips. "I worry a lot, actually. I worry about a lot of things."
She's just watching him warily, and he goes on, actually unable to stop rambling.
"I worried from the second I met you that I was going to fall in love with you, and that's exactly what happened."
Her mouth falls open, and he plows on.
"I worried that if I let myself get too close, I'd never recover when inevitably you found someone better than me. I didn't think we were getting deployed together. I thought I'd never see you again, that I'd come home and you'd have found someone that deserves you. So I put a boundary there, and I never should have. Even when you respected it, I got angry with you. Because I did want more."
"Jake, what the fuck?" She breathes, and he laughs.
"I know. I'm an asshole, and I'm sorry. I just-- I couldn't stop myself. With every little thing I learned about you, I just fell a little harder. And that was never the deal. So even when you acted like... like you could've felt the same way, I didn't give you the chance." He smiles, but it's more like a wince. "Call it self preservation, I guess."
"You're so stupid, Lieutenant Seresin." Her voice is shaky. "As if I would have thought about anyone else for a year, even if we were separated."
His head snaps back up to meet her eyes. "Doc?"
"I've been falling for you this whole time too, you idiot. And the only reason I didn't want to stay that morning was because I'd worked so hard to stop myself wanting more than you were willing to give."
"I'm sorry."
"You keep saying that."
"I can keep saying it, if it helps."
She takes two quick strides in his direction while they're alone, and kisses him. Quick and hard, it sets his skin afire and his heart pounding.
"Back to work, Hangman." She says against his lips as she lowers herself down to her feet. "We'll talk about this later." Her thumb presses into the dimple on his cheek.
"If I have to, Doc." He says, and this time when he watches her walk away, he knows it's for the last time.
He's not going to let her out of his sight for a long time, if he can help it.
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snek-eyes · 6 months
Text
Good Omens fic recs
Hello all! Wanted to share a few of my longtime faves. These are all pre-s2, might do another with my post-s2 recs? Narrowed it down to 10, since that's the max links tumbl lets you have in a post.
Any Way You Want It
Author: Justkeeptrekkin Words: 27,500 Chapters: 5/5 Rating: Mature Mood: Vacation, soft but introspective After finally getting heaven and hell off their backs (at a cost) Crowley and Aziraphale go on holiday to a cottage in Scotland. Fluffy with fun snappy dialogue, the two really feel like best friends here! Aziraphale struggles with his tendency to go slower than even he wants.
Instructions Not Included
Author: Atalan Words: 68,000 Chapters: 13/13 Rating: Teen Mood: Detective / Gen (There are feelings but it earns that slowburn tag) My "if season 2 isn't good, this is my season 2" fic. Now, I liked season 2, but this is still SO good. After the notpocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley start a detective agency investigating supernatural happenings together. New characters include Raphael (who totally missed the apocalypse haha whoops), and a big spooky dog (whomst I adore). Note that while this fic stands just fine on its own, there is an unfinished sequel that imo doesn't leave off anywhere stressful.
When in Rome
Author: Kedreeva Words: 4,000 Rating: General Mood: The liminal space of nighttime conversations What happens after Aziraphale invites Crowley to oysters: Wings and reading. Tentative and innocent in those early days.
the deft, sweet gesture of your hand
Author: deadgreeks Words: 12,000 Rating: Explicit Mood: Hurt/Comfort, introspection A few years after the failed apocalypse Crowley shows up badly injured at the bookshop. Aziraphale has to help heal Crowley and save them both, and still finds the time to knit his feelings.
Chemistry
Author: Twilightcitysky Words: 122,000 Chapters: 19/19 Rating: Explicit Mood: Y'ever want a side of learning something with your romcom? After realizing they might need their own corporations to heal themselves now that they're not working for heaven and hell, Aziraphale and Crowley turn on all their bodily functions. All of them. What could be a silly premise is played out very satisfyingly, the actual biology of hormones at play here is fascinating. (this is not really at all related but: has anyone else read Peeps by Scott Westerfeld? Because the format reminded me of this in that it did a similar thing of playing straight the concept of "what could cause vampires to be real" that drew on inspiration from real life parasites interspersed between the chapters. I dig it. Anyway!)
Reservations
Author: AnnetheCatDetective Words: 10,000 Chapters: 3/? (Technically unfinished, but leaves off in a satisfying spot) Rating: Not Rated Mood: Meta (Character study as story) “There's some competition for Aziraphale and Crowley's usual table at the Ritz…” A couple of miracles bend reality and, well… you ever been like, “The boys need therapy, but who could possibly give it to them?” I love crossovers where the TV boys meet other versions of themselves, this one is my favorite.
i can't say the words, so i wrote you into my verse
Author: mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday) Words: 5,000 Rating: Teen Mood: Snapshots through history "Crowley has tattoos and every few centuries, Aziraphale discovers a new one." Simple and paints a lovely picture.
By Definition
Author: idiopathicsmile Words: 3,000 Rating: Explicit Mood: Smutty but fond A night together after the Ritz fic where Aziraphale is asexual and Crowley isn’t and how that works for them. The dialogue here is positively delightful.
Bark Dust
Author: rfsmiley Words: 8,000 Rating: Mature (mostly for injuries) Mood: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Historical Crowley is very badly injured in a battle, and Aziraphale has to figure out how to save his life.
Tell Me A Story
Author: brilliant_or_insane Words: 5,000 Rating: Teen Mood: Soft and warm Aziraphale likes telling stories and Crowley likes to listen. But when the demon is dissatisfied by sad endings and can't relate to the happy ones, Aziraphale decides to move them forward by telling a new story. (Of course, Crowley isn't entirely satisfied with the angel's perspective on that one either.)
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williaml0ver · 2 months
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FIRST KISSES WITH GANJI MAYBE?!?!?
☆ <3 Kisses with Ganji Gupta ☆ <3
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[🖇️] word count: 1089
[🖇️] warnings: g/n reader, angst to comfort, fluff, touch starved Ganji, kith kith
[🖇️] author's note: i can't believe i posted two fics in a span of two days hello?? Anyways thank you so much for this lovely request pookie, i'm sorry for this being shorter than my usual lenght for posts :( i would steal a horse for you if you told me to 🫂 GANJI NATION RISE. I love this boy so much omg....
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☆ ☆ ☆
-Ganji particularly strikes me as the type of a lover who may struggle with showing affection through physical touch at first. But when he becomes used to it, realizes he likes it? He'd be obsessed!
-At first, his way of proving his love is simply being there for you. Listening to your thoughts, confessions and rants, making sure you're aware your opinion matters to him. You matter to him.
-He'd overall prefer for his love to know that they have a trustworthy, capable of protecting man you could always lean on when in need.
-For Ganji, this looks like a perfect stance to take. You will feel safe, loved and comforted, yes?
-This in fact, does can lead to a missunderstanding, especially if you're really fond of physical touch in your relationship. But what you cannot do is blame Ganji. He was a boy raised in solitude, someone who was taken advantage of and mistreated. Love is still a fairly foreign thing for him.
-Something shifts deep inside the batter when you two become a thing, he just doesn't know what exactly yet. He's new to this... feeling, he isn't sure what is he supposed to provide for you.
-Even if you don't resemble a person who finds happiness in taking the lead, you should direct him a little. Just be honest and voice your needs. He may have troubles with opening up to you - he doesn't want you to worry, but he will open up if you reassure him that you want to be a safe space for your boyfriend.
-Don't get it wrong, if you hugged him in his or your room, he would act awkward but wouldn't push you away.
-The direct affection is rather one sided at the start. Ganji accepts, but does not initiate at all.
-But near someone? He wouldn't push you away either, but he'd show clear signs of discomfort. He's not ready for public displays of affection just yet. He wants to be treated seriously by other survivors, in fact, he does enjoy how some avoid him and fear him.
-You have to get to know him before.
-When it comes to touching, start slowly. Don't demand things too fast. Let Ganji adaptate in slow, little steps. He'd feel mostly overwhelmed if you decide to let out all your love inside you all at once.
-All those small things, like you insisting on gentle hand holding, hair petting, make Ganji's senses wake up from deep slumber. He wants to protect you, but he also begins to want to experience the feeling of safeness.
-He suddenly starts waiting for your small touches. After matches, he mindlessly comes to you and desires to be held, comforted. He doesn't know why. It just feels right, feels good.
-It does make him feel better and more open to closeness.
-One thing about Ganji, he struggles with expressing his cravings. He feels like he doesn't deserve anything. It really is a miracle you even wanted to treat such a monster as a lover.
-Step by step, you start being more intimate with him. He'd let you lay on him, grounding him when sleeping today.
-He wishes for more and more from you, but Ganji is afraid of it. What if you'll be dissapointed and think he's weak? The thought of you leaving terrifies his poor heart.
-At some point, to your surprise, he just breaks down. He's crying, hardly breathing and whimpering. All he ever wanted was to be loved.
-Please, wipe his tears away, comfort him, touch him. Ganji needs it more than ever.
-Not putting much thought into it, you kiss the batter on his lips. It activates something in both of you. Yes, you've exchanged touches before, but this one feels so deeply personal. It makes your relationship, Ganji feel... complete.
-Everything he ever defended, protected, fought for... that one moment made the pain worth it all.
-That one kiss resulted in a big explosion of Ganji's wild passion towards your person. He is now allowed to shower you with something he longed to do ever since you met, but had to bottle it up.
-Ganji takes kisses very seriously. He'd feel honoured if his lover wanted to do it.
-No one ever made him feel so flustered.
-He was so passionate. You were the one to kiss him, but he quickly took control of the kiss. He's never done that before, but you felt otherwise. You've stayed this way for the next hour.
-You felt like you gave him the kiss of life. His eyes brightened up, his smile is wide, you felt like it's all Ganji's world and you're just living in it.
-Each kiss from him feels like it's his last meal on earth ever.
-He felt like a completely new person that day. You two were already very close, but his sudden burst of affection made your love go over to the roof. No, the stars above.
-Not long after, he starts treating you back with light caresses on your soft skin. Ganji doesn't even hide the fact that he is touch starved.
-He discovers he prefers showing you his devotion through touch, rather than doing it verbally.
-Make sure you kiss him goodnight and also for good luck in his matches <3
-You discovered it's easier to convince him with giving small kisses.
"Look, love, I could take you somewhere else, i'm not really a fan of cinema, you know?"
*kith kith noises*
"Oh... I... I mean, of course, I'd love to go."
-He's got a poker face for sure. It's sometimes hard for you to read him, imagine how difficult it has to be to other survivors...
-You noticed his face is actually very responsive during kissing time.
-You keep teasing him about blushing. He denies it all the time.
-You woke up from a nap? A kiss on your forehead. He heroically carried the entire match? Proud kisses on his mouth. Mind you, he's obssesed.
-He'd appreciate every kiss you offer. His personal favourite place to kiss you is on your cheeks, meanwhile you love to pamper his cleavage with kisses.
-Make sure to kiss his scars!!! Ganji is exceptionally insecure about them. Feeling your mouth on those little atrocities makes him feel loved for who he is, not for the scary persona he tries to become near people.
-Speaking of people, he surprisingly becomes very possesive. He doesn't mind PDA, in fact, he wants everyone to know that you're taken by the batter - Ganji Gupta.
☆ ☆ ☆
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Take a look at this shrek plushie i've digged up in a thrift store lately... okay it's 2am goodnight guys
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wwinterwitch · 1 year
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questions — joel miller x fem!reader
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summary: after a night at the bar, joel walks you home and you finally confess what has been on your mind since the night everything fell apart pairing: joel miller x fem!reader word count: 3.9k warnings and tags: doesn't really follow canon but sill minor spoilers for ep. 6 i guess?, angst with a good ending, alcohol consumption, reader is drunk, joel being joel, miscommunication, sharing feelings go wrong, i'm not used to write angsty fics i'm sorry if this sucks author's note: omg omg happy finale day!! i wrote this listening to question...? by taylor swift so that's what inspired this concept, also this was supposed to be a tiny little blurb idk how we got to almost 4k words but okay i guess
a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!
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Before tonight you were fine.
You barely even thought about him in that way. You barely remember the way his skin feels against yours, or the way a simple kiss from him would leave you begging for more. It was like all those nights you two would stay up talking about whatever, his arms around you and your back pressed against his chest, never existed.
Training your heart not to long for him and your brain to keep him out of your thoughts was no easy job at first. It was almost impossible for your body not to want him close. Not being able to talk to him about whatever was on your mind and knowing he no longer will reach out to share even his most profound secrets was absolute torture. Walking next to him all day without being able to reach out for his hand or stop for a quick second just to hold him close to you was a living nightmare that you couldn't wake up from.
Because how could he be so easy to forget? Joel Miller. The first and only person you've fallen in love with. That special someone that opened up a door to a whole new world that you never realized you were dying to discover until he was standing in front of you, his extended hand being an open invitation to walk all these unfamiliar roads and witness the beauty of it all together.
It was new and scary and beautiful. You were addicted to loving him before you even realized exactly what it was. From the moment you were able to put a name to this new feeling he taught you, you vowed to be his for as long as he'll have you- but what a shame it was to realize that the ending to a seemingly long story was already written at the very back of the page.
Perhaps your love blinded you enough to believe he had fallen just as hard, only to realize he was still standing at the edge of the precipice, staring down as you fell into the darkness of the abyss. Perhaps it's the fact that death is all around that makes it impossible for anything to be born. Why would you be able to live a fairytale in the middle of a horror show? What could possibly make you so special?
At least he doesn't seem to be affected by the fact that you two drifted apart. It's not like he's the best at sharing his feelings to other people, his ever-frowning gaze always present in his face no matter the circumstance, but you were still hoping that maybe he cared enough to show you he's hurting even just a little bit.
That should be comforting, right? To know he's perfectly fine and that you never cross his mind in that way. He doesn't have the need to apologize or make it right. He doesn't regret what happened and it never plays back in his head as he curses at himself for not doing things differently. You and your...relationship? are that easy to forget.
No. It's not comforting at all. If anything, it makes everything worse.
You can still remember the night you told him you loved him. A moment in your painfully short history together that you wish you could erase. A disappointing ending to what could've been an absolute masterpiece.
Ellie was already asleep and the two of you were keeping watch. He insisted you should get some sleep but you wanted to stay with him. He wasn't a fan of showing you any type of affection since Ellie joined the two of you, so the nights are the only chance you have to be closer. It was like the moon and stars were your best of friends at that point, because they meant he could finally be yours.
The confession slipped from your lips in a quiet whisper. A simple and timid "I think I'm falling in love with you" was all you offered. It's not hard to remember the way your hands would slightly tremble, or the rapid beating of your heart. It's as unforgettable as the confidence you were feeling because despite being so nervous, you were certain that he'll say it back.
He never did. He didn't say it back that night, or the morning after, or any other morning that followed.
It was embarrassing to look back on it now that you know what happened next. You were snuggled up next to him, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders. His eyes were fixated on the fireplace that helped to make the chilling air of the night a little more tolerable.
Staring at his handsome complexion without his permission was probably one of your favorite things to do. He had confided in you a couple of times that he couldn't understand why you enjoy it so much. That he's not this breathtaking sight that deserves to be contemplated in the way you do.
Truth is, he's the most hypnotizing sight of all. You didn't care about the roughness of his features or the years visible in the corner of his eyes, hair and beard. He's gorgeous and unique and yours. You could stare at him for hours and never get tired of it.
Like many times before, he caught you staring at him. And just like those times before, he made a gesture that should tell you he disliked that habit of yours, only to be betrayed by the smirk timidly forming on his lips not so long after.
It was then, with his eyes staring back at yours, that the verbal proclamation of your love for him invaded the quietness of the night.
And that's when his smirk magically disappeared. His eyes became dark with something you couldn't quite decipher at the time, still staring back at you but not really. It was clear he wasn't there with you anymore, too lost in his own thoughts to truly acknowledge your presence anymore.
Before you could even think of saying something else, he surprised you with an almost robotic "I think you should get some sleep".
Feeling more heartbroken and confused than ever, you did exactly that. You got up and joined Ellie, cuddling up in your sleeping bag with your back facing him. It's still a mystery to you how you were able to cry yourself to sleep that night without making a sound. How you were able to control the hurricane of emotions after telling the love of your life how you feel and him not caring about it in the slightest.
And suddenly, being in love was still new and scary but it had turned into something horrible.
You had to spend every second of every day with him after that, pretending nothing ever happened. He never brought it up either, so you decided to ignore it to avoid making a fool of yourself again. His reaction was enough to let you know he never really loved you, so you ran with it and tried to continue knowing whatever you two had or could have was no more.
But it was still difficult at times. Ellie kept asking you questions regarding you and Joel even weeks after the incident. She's not stupid. She could see you two weren't exactly friends, no matter how hard Joel tried to convince her otherwise. She's also not someone who settles for made up excuses or half truths, which made her push the subject until she got a good enough answer. That's why she continued coming to you for answers, because she knew he'll never talk about it.
It was only when you explicitly confirmed you two weren't just friends before quickly telling her it was completely over that she eventually let it be. After that, she also started to pretend nothing happened.
Jackson became pretty much the light at the end of a pitch back tunnel you thought was never-ending. You were excited to meet new people and have new things to do during the day, knowing it'll help to keep you busy, forcing Joel out of your head.
It was so exciting in fact, that it helped to make it seem as if the quick "she's the one I've been traveling with" that Joel used to introduce you to his brother wasn't that terrible.
Tommy, who much to your luck was nothing like his big brother, made sure to show you around and introduce you to a few people. He got you a house so you and Ellie could settle in and helped you find a job at the local library, officially starting your new life that didn't revolve around Joel.
In time, you found your place in the commune (as you and Ellie love to call it to tease Tommy). Joel was slowly becoming just a bad chapter in a much bigger story that you started to write for yourself, and you're loving the new plot that's unfolding across the blank pages.
However, all of that progress came crashing down tonight. Tommy's birthday was being celebrated at the local bar and there was no way you would ever miss it. Not only has he become a very good friend, but you also needed the distraction.
The familiar faces, the food and drinks made you forget about Joel's presence for most of the night and you barely made the effort to acknowledge his presence. Without being able to prevent it, your eyes accidentally met for a few seconds. It was almost sickening that everything about that half-a-second-look was so much like a movie. You were laughing at something a friend had said before you finished your third drink of the night, casually scanning the room to catch Joel already looking your way.
He smiled and you barely smiled back before focusing on the conversation with your friends again as if nothing happened. The alcohol might have motivated you enough to just not care anymore. To show him you really couldn't care any less to try to be nice after he was such an asshole when you were completely vulnerable before him.
The idea of not caring seemed tempting. Thinking the alcohol was helping, you continued drinking until you forgot about pretty much everything- which didn't take that long considering your alcohol resistance wasn't that good after a long time without drinking. You don't care about Joel, or the hours passing by, or the fact that you're probably making a complete fool of yourself giggling and dancing with a few friends that are probably as drunk as you are, if not more.
All the hype from being intoxicated started to wear off after a while, becoming more and more sleepy until you were practically dragging your feet towards the exit, putting on your coat and hat to prepare for the cold night outside.
"Looks like you had a good time," you hear Tommy comment in a mocking tone, sending a sympathetic smile your way.
"I did! Thanks for inviting me. And happy birthday to you again!" you exclaim cheerfully. "I hope I didn't make a fool of myself tonight."
"Oh, you definitely did," he mocked, chuckling lightly. "But hey, those dance moves you were pulling off back there? Best birthday gift I'll ever receive."
You looked positively embarrassed after his comment, but managed to laugh it off. "I guess that's good."
"It is," he immediately reassures you. "Let's get you home now, okay?"
"Oh, you don't have to go with me. You can't leave your own birthday party. It's okay, I got it."
"I want to make sure you get home safe. It's fine."
"Tommy, please. You should stay and have fun."
"I won't have fun if I'm worrying about you all night."
"I can take her," you suddenly hear Joel's voice behind you, which immediately made you roll your eyes because you really didn't want him around. He noticed the gesture but didn't seem to care about it in the slightest, putting on his jacket. "I was heading out anyway."
Tommy couldn't have known you really didn't want to be around his older brother, completely unaware of your history with him. Perhaps if you told him, he'll insist on going with you or find someone else that could walk you home. But you never told him what happened, so you're stuck with Joel. "Okay, great. I'll see you guys tomorrow. Thank you for coming," he says, allowing the two of you to leave.
The first few minutes outside in the snow have got to be the most awkward minutes of your entire life.
You tried not to stumble despite still being a bit drunk, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of him. You're mad that he's here with you and you can't stand being alone with him.
"Did you have fun tonight?"
Oh, and of course he had to open his mouth. Because when has Joel ever done what you want him to do? It seems like he'll always do exactly the opposite of what you expect from him.
"Yes," was all you said.
"Just yes?" he tried again.
"Yes."
You heard him sigh. "So, no talking?"
"I'd really like that, actually."
The tone of your voice would've been enough to make him shut up for the entire walk. Even he seemed to be a little taken aback by the honesty of your answer because you could feel him staring at you for longer than usual before he focused on his boots as they left marks on the snow.
He didn't ask what was wrong because deep down he must've known. He can't not know. And in that drunken state you allowed yourself to be pity as you wished that he thinks about it every single day. That it tortures him. That he despises himself for breaking your heart and not doing something to make it right. That he looks back on it and hopes that he could go back.
But does he? Does he actually think about it every single day? Does he regret what happened? And if he does, why is he not trying to say he's sorry? Does he even want to say something at all?
It was almost as if the alcohol betrayed you. Or maybe it was your head that just allowed every barrier you have built these past few weeks to crumble down. Not caring turned into caring way too much and it was like you couldn't stop thinking about a hundred questions without being able to find a single answer to any of them.
Joel turns to look at you once again when he notices you stopped walking. Your head is spinning as more and more questions fill up your mind and you get frustrated because you know there's only one person who has all the answers.
Should you say something? Should you make a fool of yourself once again? It shouldn't be you. Why is he not doing something? How come you're the one who has to speak up about this? It's not fair.
But it was late, cold and you were just so drunk. And you know that no matter how much you try to move on, you'll never be truly okay until you hear an explanation as to why he broke your heart in such a vicious way. Even if he lies or tries to sugarcoat it, you deserve even the tiniest of explanations.
"Is everything okay?" he eventually asks, which only frustrates you more.
"Do you ever think about that night?" you let out almost immediately after, feeling the way your heart was beating faster than ever. As fast as the time you confessed your love for him.
He was quiet, so you decided to continue. "Do you ever wish you could go back and change the way it ended? Does...does it ever cross your mind or you seriously don't care?"
After those questions, Joel seemed to finally react. "Are we seriously doing this now?"
"If not now, when? You were clearly not going to say anything," you accused him, leaving him completely defenseless because he was very much avoiding ever bringing this up and you just called him out on it. "I just need to know why, Joel."
"I don't- let's get you home, okay?"
"Stop doing that! Stop trying to avoid this!" you exclaimed with obvious exasperation, feeling the corner of your eyes burning due to the tears that would surely roll down your cheeks at any point. "I was in love with you and you weren't decent enough to at least tell me you didn't feel the same way! Don't you think I deserved at least that?"
"We can talk about this tomorrow..."
"No, fuck that. I waited long enough," you quickly interrupted. "I was so patient with you. I gave you your space when you said you weren't sure about us, I respected your decision of being discreet in front of Ellie, I stood up for you countless of times when I shouldn't have. I did so much for you and you can't even look me in the eye and give me an explanation!"
"It's not-"
"You've got to be the biggest asshole I've ever met. And you know what's the worst part of this? That I'm still expecting shit from you. I still hope that you'll say you're sorry for breaking my heart and acting like you never did something wrong. I'm so fucking stupid to believe that you actually-"
"I was afraid!" he practically shouted, hoping that would stop your rambling. It seemed to work, because you were silent as soon as he said that. "There. Are you happy?"
"Don't put this on me," you immediately snap back.
Joel sighs yet again and takes a second to calm down, knowing that if he gets defensive this will end much worse. It's time to accept he fucked up and stop trying to act like he didn't.
"I'm sorry," he finally said. "For this and for what I said that night. I should've been honest with you."
Now it was you the one who was silent, taken aback by his reaction. Usually, he'll try to come on top by creating any type of argument until he's able to get the last word. An actual apology was definitely not something you were expecting.
"I don't like people. I keep my distance and everyone else stay away from me in return. I like distance," he explains. "But then you came along and it was impossible to stay away. No matter how hard I tried, I'd always come back to you. I started to need you and it was scary because I should be keeping my distance."
Silence. Absolute silence. You were surprised to hear him being so honest with you, but you were also feeling a bit nostalgic because deep down you missed being the person Joel would go to when he needed someone to talk to. Even when it was difficult for him to open up, he always tried his best to rely on you whenever he needed it. Needless to say, it made you feel very special.
"When you said you loved me I didn't know what to do. It felt so...definitive. Because I knew that deep down I was falling for you too and if I said something that'd mean I'd never be able to let you go. And it was so scary to think of giving in to that feeling because...because I couldn't allow myself to care again."
You knew exactly what he meant by that. His daughter is not a topic he particularly enjoys bringing up, but you've heard a few things about her. And honestly, you couldn't really blame him for being scared. Despite all these years, losing his kid in the way he did has got to be the worst pain he'll ever experience. Of course he'll want to run away in the opposite direction when he starts seeing the similarities.
It doesn't excuse the fact that he avoided you, but you would never pretend like his feelings weren't valid.
He was scared of loving you because with love comes the inevitable attachment to that person forever. You care so deeply, the mere idea of ever losing that person shatters your world completely. And he knows what that loss feels like. He couldn't experience that again.
"Besides, you know me. You know I'm a mess. I couldn't let you ruin your life by loving me, because I'd just let you down- which I did, so I was right. So instead of saying something, I just said what I thought would help to make you not love me anymore. If I couldn't keep my distance, I had to do something so you'll want to stay away from me."
Once again, Joel was doing exactly the opposite of what you expected. He poured his heart out to you, sounding so honest and vulnerable. You've only heard him being this sincere whenever he would mention Sarah or that one time when you both stayed up talking in depth about your relationship with Ellie.
Tears started to roll down your cheeks as predicted as you stared at him. You don't know whether to hug him or punch him at this point.
"You're such an asshole," was all you could say.
The comment made him chuckle, but it was evident he was holding back his own tears. "I know."
"But that's exactly why I loved you. I know what you've been through, I knew you were a challenge and I was willing to work on it for as long as it would take us. The decision of whether I wanted to love you or not was never yours to make."
"I was trying to save you from having to deal with me."
"What if I didn't want to be saved?"
"Well, I think it's already too late for that," he replied. There was another pause that encouraged him to ask, "Is it? Too late?"
"I don't know," you replied. It was the truth.
"I can work with I don't know."
"What does that mean?" you asked curiously, wiping your tears away.
"It means I'm willing to make it right this time," he replied. "If you let me."
You frowned just a little, failing to hold back the smile that appeared on your face just seconds later. "You know you'll have to really try if you want to fix this, right?"
"I know. It's okay. You're worth it."
So far, so good, you thought.
"This means no more hiding, no more trying to push me away, talking about your feelings..."
"I can handle it."
"Can you?" you asked in a much more serious tone. It sucked not being able to fully trust his word, but you both know you had your reasons not to. "I just don't want to get my hopes up again over nothing."
You watched as Joel took a step closer to you, reaching out to grab one of your hands. He examines your face, making sure you're okay with him touching you before he brings it up to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. "I promise you this time will be different," he says, and he's looking at you with so much affection, it's impossible not to trust him.
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oddballwriter · 4 months
Text
Honey, I'm Home
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Summary: Taking up the role of being your little househusband was something that Jake wasn't really expecting to enjoy so much, but man, does he really love it~
Warnings: Househusband Jake. Househusband kink. 
Author’s Snip: All of you liked my idea of a househusband Jake smut. So I'm giving you what you want. I was originally going to post this after the four fics/one-shots that I had you guys vote on but i thought why not, I kind of wrote it before I had the results in. Also, before any of you can say the joke... three voices come from the gramophone /ref.
Notes: In this, Jake is his own person instead of being an alter of Marc but was also formerly Khonshu's avatar until Khonshu decided to excuse him from his duties. Listen, you aren't here for all that, you're here for the househusband Jake smut. Also, yes, the reader knew about Khonshu when Jake was Moon Knight.
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
Word Count: 688
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The role and life of a househusband wasn't one that Jake expected to play out and live. What with his work in being the hand of justice for Khonshu. Needing to track down, run around, fight, extract information by any means necessary, and even kill. He's honestly surprised he managed to gain a spouse in that part of his life. So the idea of even slightly being a homebody was something that never crossed Jake's mind once. With him always having a mission, he would hardly have the ability to do house work.
So when Khonshu came and said that he was satisfied with Jake's work and wanted to release him from it and then promptly did, without much talk about it on Jake's part, Jake didn't really know what to do now.
You two had a talk about what Jake could do now with all this new free time. Sure, Jake now had time for more hobbies but there was still so much time on his hands. That was when you jokingly suggested that he should be a househusband. It was a good laugh for a minute until you off-handedly mentioned that you earned enough to support both of you so he could actually take on the role.
That's when Jake decided to give being a homebody a try for a month. And in that month, Jake swears that something just tapped into his brain and he enjoyed this kind of role. Sure, it wasn't easy. He had to stay on top of the chores and errands that needed to be done and do the cooking dinner. But there was something about doing all that work and seeing you come home with a smile on your face as you see him and the house that just completely rewired his brain. By the end of the month, he had an order for a nice apron placed and damn near bought the ones with cute frills on it, ready to be your little househusband. It really did something to him.
It wouldn't be until a while after adopting this lifestyle that Jake figured out that being your lovely little househusband also did something to him. He doesn't really know where it comes from. But it was there alright.
Maybe it was the idea in society that the person who was the homebody was supposed to be submissive to the breadwinner. Or the way you look when you walk through the front door coming home from work and have a tired smile cross your face when you see him and then say "There you are.". He definitely felt it when you would walk over to him and give him a hug with a kiss on the lips to go with it. Or that time you came home and hugged him from behind. He bent down to the pans he used to cook in the dishwasher after just plating dinner. You had let go of his waist so he could bend but you stood there for a bit and Jake's mind slipped into the dirty for a moment before returning them back and finishing the rest of the dishes, and then eating dinner with you. By god, he thought about that for a long time after that.
It didn't take you that long to figure it out though. You had actually caught on as soon as he started trying to hide his erections whenever you'd innocently call him your sweet little husband or something along those lines. After that, it would be something that you'd bring into the bedroom whenever you were in charge.
"My sweet little husband. So good to me. Always making sure the house is all tidy and clean for me when I come home. He deserves a reward for being so good~" you'd coo into his ear while he shook and panted from whatever you were doing to him. Sometimes you'd say "Let me take care of you since you take such good care of me and the house." and it would turn him into a complete mess.
Becoming a househusband has truly done something to Jake.
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kiwiana-writes · 10 days
Note
I dont think anyone subscribes to you for t rated 5 +1s in your own au lol. Chop chop with those wip’s porn girl!
Well. Quite a bit to unpack here on an otherwise unassuming Friday!
#1:
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#2: I actually track this stuff. Admittedly the E-rated percentage is a bit higher if you look at RWRB only, but overall...
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#3: I think anyone who subscribes to me on AO3, or indeed anyone who follows the kiwiana-writes tag here on tumblr and sees all those fucking WIPs, knows that I like to write a bit of variety. That's not to say there aren't definite underpinnings of, like, themes and vibes that I return to over and over (which I can only assume are why people subscribe to me), but if someone only likes my college AUs, or only likes my post-canon stuff, or only likes my E-rated stuff, or only wants to listen to my podfics, they're probably going to have a much more successful time saving the tag search than subscribing to me at the author level. Or they've mastered the art of archiving and moving on without complaining about it, like I do when the authors I'm subscribed to write something that doesn't interest me. It's a useful skill! I highly recommend cultivating it.
#4: AO3 not giving series stats is and continues to be the bane of my life, but based on the number of people who subscribed to the OG actor AU, there's probably a significant chunk of people who aren't subscribed to me as an author and only want the actor AU verse stuff. And good for them! I LOVE that AO3 offers multiple ways to subscribe so you can get notified for the stuff you want (my kingdom for the ability to subscribe to individual pseuds, though.)
#5: This fandom is OVERFLOWING right now. Like, I can't keep up. You only want to read E-rated stuff? Awesome! Well over 100 E-rated fics have been posted in the RWRB bookverse tag just this week (it looks like most of the movieverse smut has also been tagged bookverse, but either way it's also very easy to find). Or go back to older fics and find some hidden gems—there's nothing an author loves more than for someone to come in and gush about a fic they wrote a year or two ago.
#6: You don't pay me, and I'm not subject to annual review. One of my favourite authors was talking this morning about how sometimes she thinks about taking a break from writing for RWRB because it's starting to feel a little rat racey, and that would suck for me personally because I love her stuff but god knows I couldn't blame her, because the (extreme minority but still exhausting) entitled comments and rudeness really do not help. Stop treating your favourite authors like content creators who owe you something new on a regular schedule, because that's a damn good way to ensure they don't want to create anything new ever again. Like... anon, you haven't even bothered to couch this in a compliment. The bar is ten feet underground and somehow you still managed to trip over it.
#7: Not to be all 'back in my day' but... well, back in my day, snippets and peeks into the universe of a remotely popular longfic were pretty much the standard lol. Nobody is forcing you to read them, I promise.
#8: I've posted two E-rated fics in the last two weeks.
#9: Honestly I just really want to reiterate #1 because what the hell lol. While pronouns don't equal gender, it's pretty reasonable to extrapolate from pronouns if you don't have any other info to go on—and of the three "main/standard" pronouns, the one most closely associated with 'girl' is the only one that ISN'T in my bio 🤦
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horanghoe · 2 years
Text
until it hurts a little less
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MAIN MASTERLIST /// TXT MASTERLIST /// IMAGE MASTERPOST
[UIHALL - PART 2.I HERE] /// [UIHALL - PART 2.II CONTINUED]
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members/group: Beomgyu / TXT --- (mentions of Jon / NCT)
pairing: Hybrid!Beomgyu x Reader (Fem perspective)
genre: angst, fluff, heavy smut, hybrid!txt, minors dni !!
word count: 15.9k
T/W’s : heavy smut with frequent mention of hybrid features; this is purely fiction and not intended to harm. If you don’t like hybrid!au’s, please scroll on, peace and love!! (Pls dm me if you would like a trigger warning added ♡ )
shoutout to my fellow furry loving idiot ~ @raibebe
& A HUGE THANK YOU to all my beta readers ~ @kthpurplesyou / @rairecommends again / @gyukult / @flowerboykun
special cameo shoutout to miss angel ~ @moonctzeny
IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE - This fic has received a mass update since its original publishing date. I hope the edit serves as a greater service to returning readers; and doesn't take away from the original experience felt ♡
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Music to listen to while reading ♡ (in no particular order)
Settle - (BAYNK, Sinead Harnett)
Never Seen You Get So Low - (Aquilo)
Be Like That - (Kane Brown, Swae Lee & Khalid)
Lo Que Siento - (Cuco)
Deja Vu - (Post Malone, Justin Bieber)
Come Over - (Jorja Smith, Popcaan)
Bleu - (agajon, Leonie Barbot)
A Storm on a Summers Day - (Full Crate, Gaidaa)
Happier Than Ever - Edit - (Billie Eilish)
긴 밤 (The Long Night) - (Seori, GIRIBOY)
Lonely - (Chloe x Halle)
Broken Clocks - (SZA)
Good Days - (SZA)
Frank Ocean as a genre, lmao
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Your day had been simply awful.
Awful.
It was like everything that could go wrong in the world, did. And everything that didn’t; sure as hell gave it a try.
The pain started as soon as you woke up.
You were old enough to know when you were due on your period. Even had an app for it - with notifications, etc. But the past month had totally whipped by, and you awoke to ruined pajamas and a deep ache in your lower back. 
Fumbling for your phone, you swiped clumsily at the alarm cutting out the harsh noise before it could offend your ears any further.
Grumbling, you cursed your body for having such a heavy flow out of nowhere, before pulling your corpse-like body out from under the sheets and out into the cold air.
It was just a Friday. One day until the weekend. You could do this.
Willing yourself into positive thinking, you stumbled out of your room and down the hall - straight towards the medicine cupboard to dull the ache in your body and head.
"Jeez! You look like shit. Maybe you should brush your hair before bed, owner."
Almost missing the cat hybrid's words until the pointed end - the prophetical sentence a well-crafted hilt and the end the tip of the sword - you turned around with a sleepy frown and an exasperated sigh, ready to fight without your eyes fully opened.
But he had already disappeared.
Maybe you had imagined it.
Maybe adopting Beomgyu had been one huge, massive dream (or nightmare), and you were due to wake up any minute.
Unfortunately, that was not the case.
The bathroom door in front of you slammed shut, making your body shoot up and back against the hallway wall. Beomgyu's laugh could be heard behind the door; high and lilted, full of mockery.
Clinging to your nightshirt and abdomen you whined softly.
"Beomgyu! That was mean! Get out of there, I need to get ready for work!”
Said idiot snorted from behind the door, thumping his clothes into the washing basket. 
“Sorry, no can do. I’m going out to the cafe today to meet Yeonjun. Wouldn’t want to walk around smelling like you.”
Absolutely at a loss of words, you garbled a noise of frustration and pleading.
“Beomgyu - please - can you at least grab something from the cupboard? I need some … medicine… fuck. Nevermind."
You knew as soon as you had begun to beg, that you had already lost.
The sound of the shower tapped out from behind the very much locked and sealed door, the male humming to himself as you knocked your head against the wood. You curled over at a wave of pain, breathing through it before it subsided.
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The night before, there had been... a disagreement. 
You had tried to initiate some ground rules. 
(Albeit, three months in could be considered a little late for a peace treaty, but it’s the thought that counts, right? Spoiler alert: it didn't make a difference).
The first point was that Beomgyu was to remain second on the pecking list.
He was arrogant. And a brat. But you were willing to work through it to not send him back to the adoption centre. He was a grown-ass cat-man and had the right to his own space; even if the local laws meant he had to have a human on his registry to do that. He was welcome to stay, on the terms that he could temper his ego, even just a little bit.
You had placed the handwritten ‘new-rules list’ in front of him.
He had peered over it with sharp eyes and a scoff, before crossing his arms and leaning back into the dining room chair.
"I'm literally older, bigger and smarter than you, Y/N. What exactly is your point? On all of this? I already work part-time to pay my way - this is a null request."
He had leered at you. Disgustingly smart, seemingly only when he needed to be.
"But - I'm - I'm your owner… Your - I adopted you…"
Beomgyu had howled with laughter, shaking his headbefore his eyes dropped and his gaze bore straight into you. 
"And? Just because you brought me here, signed the leasing papers; doesn’t mean I have to listen to your every beck and call. I’m not your little puppy on a leash, Y/N. Or maybe you’d prefer that. Someone to follow your every order. Maybe you should go back for Mingyu, I’m sure he’d die to get bossed around so much."
It was such a shocking change of aura that you were struck dumb. Sharp feline eyes and rigid tall triangle ears pointed straight at you had made you weak at the knees - the push of dominance, a very unfamiliar feeling. At least where the hybrid was involved.
He had always edged around your limitations but had never directly opposed you before.
At a lack of words, you had withdrawn the list. Shoving it into a kitchen drawer and trying your very best to avoid the emotions swimming in your lungs. Unsure whether to evict yourself or your anger via a punch straight into his - annoyingly charming, handsome, clean, frustrating, stupidly beautiful - face.
The rain had been relentless all week, and it had only seemed to add to your misery after defeat had been admitted. 
You sent yourself to sleep with a heavy head full of thoughts and a heart full of frustration. Sleeping through the loud music he played through the TV speakers. Fighting the occasional wakes from flashes of lightning and the thought of work looming over your next day.
Your sleep was troubled, at best.
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It seems that last night's confrontation had only made him more irate.
And you knew it was stupid - knew it was mean and entirely selfish - but you couldn't stop the spike of emotions in the apprehension of a very long office shift.
Thoughts of emails, processing paperwork and phone calls and attending meetings; all flooded your mind's eye until you lashed out your frustration at the selfish idiot behind the bathroom door.
You knew he didn’t deserve it, but it sort of just happened before you could stop it.
Your fist solidly thumped against the door, with more strength than Beomgyu had ever expected to hear from you. You had never lashed out. So, in the comfort of the shower, he flinched harshly, bating his breath. 
Were you finally going to send him back? None of his ‘owners’ had ever lasted this long. He considered you more of an equal, but that uncertainty was like murky waters that left him too scared to test fate.
Considering the fact he fought bad types of hierarchy with the fervour of a forest fire; he was insufferable towards your lax rules around the flat.
And he would bite on purpose, just for some attention.
But, weirdly, he liked you. You were his opposite - disgustingly happy and optimistic. Buying him gifts when all he knew was hand-downs. Taking his bad behaviour as it came. That’s why your words dug deep into his psyche, deeper than he wanted. 
"God, you're insufferable! It's my flat! I brought you back here, pay for your shit! And you're the worst hybrid I've ever met! Maybe it would be a good idea to send you back since you keep fucking suggesting it!!"
Beomgyu closed off the shower. Breathing heavily as he quickly dried himself off. He needed to get away from you and fast before he said something he would regret. 
The door snapped open.
You realised your mistake as soon as the male stepped out from behind the door, shoving past your body and down the hall.
The look he had given you was as sharp as any knife. A pure scowl that was full of all the discontentment in the world. Piercing your lungs and squeezing your guts into a flood of guilt.
"I-I'm sorry - I didn't mean that - I just -"
You tried to call out to him; before his bedroom door slammed tightly shut.
As you showered, you considered the feeling sitting heavy inside of your chest. Empty and aching.
You - you didn't even like him, so why the hell did you feel so bad about confrontation when it came to Beomgyu? You had always bitten your tongue at his snide remarks, the poking. But you just couldn’t do it today.
You didn't even have much time to consider it. The second of your third alarms rang out, tapping your phone with a hurriedly dried hand to quickly cut it off before placing your forehead on the cold shower tiles.
It could only go up from here, right?
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Your car wouldn't turn on.
Thrusting the key forward; one, two, three times. Before releasing a small cry and shaking the wheel in desperation.
"Why? Why me?! Today, of all days!! I swear, I'm cursed by this stupid black cat! Handsome fucking - cat boy! Stupid - argh!"
To anyone outside of the car... well they may have called the police.
The small vehicle rocked as you yelled into the (somewhat) private space. Each shout was permeated by the aggressive turning of your keys against the very dead ignition - probably doing more harm than good. 
Eventually, you pulled back to slump against the seat, admitting yet another defeat.
Reaching for your phone, you dialed the first number you could think of.
"Kun! Oh my god, thank you for picking up. Please, I need to ask a massive favour -"
In reaction to your rushed voice, Kun, your friend of maybe ten years or so, pulled the breaks on the conversation. He knew something was up, simply by you calling him instead of texting.
Who even does that nowadays?
"Woaahhhh there Y/N, good morning - what's up? Did something happen?"
"Yeah - yeah and no, actually. The issue is that nothing is happening... My car won't start - Beomgyu - and then - I don't - it’s all just going wrong, Kun. Sending a friendly SOS. Very much won’t be making it into work without your help."
The light laughter from across the phone pulled your migraine tighter across your head, but you were at least comforted by his silent support.
"You need me to come and pick you up?"
He asked calmly. Ever the rock in a flowing storm. Speaking of; a gust of wind battered the rain against your windshield enough to make you flinch.
"God - yes, yes please! Then we'll both make the briefing! Wet, but on time… at least."
Kun chuckled, confirming your location before hanging up.
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The two of you made it into the briefing, barely on time.
Running through the halls in the mandatory but entirely stupid low heels. Cursing every God, Demon and Spirit on Earth for your luck today.
Upon arriving at the office’s car park, the storm outside only seemed to match your inner emotions. It welled, swirled, and looked entirely miserable but angry at the same time, with sharp changes of winds, and heavy downpour matching the ache at your core. You had totally forgotten to bring extra pain medication - and didn’t have the heart to ask Kun.
You and Kun had dashed out from his large Jeep to skid across the car park.
Obviously, your umbrella broke immediately.
But it hurt less as Kun hurried you in, taking the metal cage from you with bubbly laughter and throwing the metal immediately in the trash behind reception, pushing you through the doors to avoid the hawk-like receptionists.
"Jeez, I mean this as your close friend Y/N, but you might want to go clean up -"
Peering at yourself in the shiny plastic noticeboard, you grimaced.
Nodding at the wisdom of your best friend and immediately dashing to the women's bathroom to dab yourself with tissue. Contorting your damp clothes under the hand dryer, and simply begging for the day to get better.
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It was within the first 15 minutes of the official meeting that you realised you had forgotten breakfast.
Some people could go without. You were not one of those people on a good day, and with today going the way it was - ah. The first rumble. 
Like a beast had just made its way into the quiet room and stomped on the table, demanding 'hear me! I am hunger!'.
You slinked down into your chair, positively embarrassed.
Across from you, a particular Johnny Suh smirked in knowing. He reached forward to tap at his half-closed laptop before a ping made itself known on your own laptop messaging system.
He nodded towards it, before turning his gaze in faux concentration to the projected screen upfront.
Groaning internally at the office hotshot noticing you for all the wrong reasons; you pulled your PC onto your lap, slapping the mute button and - pulling your open coffee cup onto the ground with your momentum.
The one Kun had shoved into your hands outside of the meeting room.
The one he had instructed you to keep a lid on, like your parent.
The men around you whipped their heads on a swivel to see the source of the noise.
The feeling of absolute dread and humiliation washed over you like a cold sweat. What you wouldn’t do to have the earth swallow you whole; bending down to pick up the half-empty cup and release a pent breath.
The guest speaker at the front cleared his throat. Continuing the meeting with enough decorum to exchange a nod with you.
Well, at least the coffee hadn’t - oh. Nevermind.
The hot liquid hitting your sleeve made you jolt, the last of the liquid spilling from the cup and into your upper forearm. You withheld a squeal - only for your face to flush and the cup to hit the floor all over again.
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As soon as you hit the third hour of your workday - 11 pm sharp - your phone buzzed from within your bag. A flurry of messages hit your device enough to distract you from the current email draft.
Idiot Feline (Beomgyu) -  4 new messages
Sighing, you pulled the phone fully onto your desk to open it.
- I’m going out to the cafe to see yeonjun
- me and the band will be fucking around for a few hours after. not really sure for how long
- you left your house keys in the kitchen
- text me and I might be able to drop the keys off. or come find me. bye
You’re not sure why, or how, but the dull-sharp tone of Beomgyu’s messages really hit harder than usual today. Maybe it was your hormones, but it hurt to read such an empty message. 
The guilt in your stomach twisted into a ghostly kind of pain.
Why should he even say hi? Why should he care how your day was going? After saying what you did to him this morning, his lack of compassion towards your reply was mostly expected.
- ah - thanks for letting me know… I finish at five today - don’t suppose you could get me from work? It would be really appreciated…car broke, had to get someone to drop me in…
His response was immediate. The blue dots flashed up and fizzled out in an angry wave.
- shame. nope, sorry. like I said - we’re practising later. would probably miss your calls/the time anyways. break a window or something, since you’re so big and clever. 
You sighed, choosing not to text back.
Leaning forward to flop onto your desk. Closing your eyes - if only for a moment.
Taking a few deep breaths, the bags under your eyes began to feel heavier. The ache in your back just beginning to settle.
But the peace was momentary.
You were at work. There were phone calls to take. Work to be done, and deadlines to be met. Within this soulless shell of an office hall, you could at least ignore the storm outside for a little while.
Basking instead, in the aggressively white installation lights.
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Your phone was dead.
Of course, it was. Why wouldn’t it be? 
Crying out loud in the staffroom, you willed the swelling of tears back down your throat like a python wrestling to escape your grip. 
The door opened, and a familiar - and not so unwanted person - stepped inside.
Local water-tank fuck-boy, Sir Johnny Suh. 
“Oh - hey Jon. What is it with you and catching me at bad moments today, huh?”
Quickly swiping at your cheeks in case of any escapee tears - you laughed through a sniffle.
Jon sat down opposite you. The large white table reflected his handsome face, but his smile was a lot kinder than usual. He dragged the chair under his legs before laughing and placing a lunchbox on the table.
Huh. That was very - domesticated, for him. You didn’t mean to judge, but he always struck you as more of a pot-noodle kind of guy. Not that there’s anything wrong with pot noodles.
“Hey, Y/N. Not sure, I just have this way with people, sometimes, I guess.”
His smile breached his eyes as he nodded towards your one folded sleeve. Pulling out a fork to prod at - okay, this was getting a little odd. A salad? In a cutesy little pre-made box? That was totally left field from what you were expecting.
“You okay? Didn’t burn your arm or anything?” 
His voice brought you back into the room. You shook your head sheepishly, brandishing your arm until he nodded. He was a little - awkward when caught alone, it seemed.
“No, just clumsy today for some reason. One of those days.”
Jon released a sound of understanding.
“Ah - gotcha. Bit of a shit show?”
You pulled back, feeling weirdly comfortable around the guy you had avoided for quite some time. Laughing weakly you nodded, placing your phone down on top of your laptop to massage your temples.
“Yeah - yeah you could say that. Car broke down, my phone just died, and I’ve been typing up an endless report.”
The two of you were oddly compatible, it seemed.
At least, he made you laugh for the first time since 8 am this morning. And that was pure gold. You told him about your morning, while he revealed some details about his life. He came here from America and had a cool family. No partner, but had a cat hybrid called Angel. Cute name.
Eventually, Johnny nodded towards your phone.
“Hey - that’s an old model, right?”
You pulled your spine up straight with a nod, about to explain why you hadn’t been able to buy a new one after adopting Beomgyu before he nodded.
“If you want - you totally don’t have to - I have a charger in my car that’s compatible with that port? I don’t mind taking you as far as the hybrid clinic if you want?”
You almost choked on your coffee (again), wiping your mouth to nod enthusiastically.
“Oh my God - you’re actually kidding me? Yes, please, that would be amazing - but wait, isn’t that the opposite way to where you live? I can ask Kun -”
Jon laughed kindly, shaking his head with a shrug.
“No, it’s totally chill, it’s fine. I need to get Angel from the clinic anyways. That’s on the way to yours, with a slight detour. She’s working part-time there, so, yeah. No worries.”
At his slight wink, you grimaced. You hadn’t been flirted with in years, and it was telling.
He laughed at your expression before you blurted an explanation to avoid offence. But he brushed it off, enamoured by your honesty.
It was different - and he liked different.
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You managed to survive the rest of the day relatively well.
At least you had thought - you sat snug in the back of Johnny’s lush car, charger stretching from the centre of the vehicle console to your phone. 
Leaving it to charge while you chatted with Jon on the twenty-minute journey, until a message dinged on your phone.
Kun - 1 new message
- Idiot !! You left your computer on !!!! And your emails are wide open !!!! Hope you didn’t have anything important on there, with the 12 pm forced shutdown and everything. I at least locked it for you. Lots of love, shit for brains. Call me ~
The laughing emoji at the end of the sentence oddly, hauntingly, took your mind back to Beomgyu so early that morning. Or maybe it was the initial ‘idiot’. The feline had claimed that word in your mind, annoyingly. Every time you read it you heard his stupid voice.
Being around Jon - had been the only time in the day where things had actually worked out.
But it seemed like his luck was wearing off. 
Groaning, you thumped your head back against the headrest, sliding down the seat. The leather immediately seemed more uncomfortable than before.
Jon laughed softly before peering at you in the inside mirror.
“What? What’s happening now?”
Something about him asking. Something about him taking the time to care. It struck up that deep aching feeling in your gut once more, pushing you to take a few seconds with your eyes closed before releasing a held breath.
“My report - It’s gone. I don’t - I didn’t save it, literally any of it because I was in such a rush to go - I don’t… I’m gonna be in so much shit…” 
You forced yourself to clip your voice before you started to sob in the back of the hot man’s car. Dipping your head and masking your face by massaging your skull.
“Y/N - I’m so sorry. That’s so shit. I’ll put in a word for you - honestly, it happens to the best of us. I’m sure they’ll understand!”
Johnny’s attempts at comforting you were… futile. 
He didn’t know you.
He didn't know the importance of your document. Nor the time sensitivity. But you were too tired to argue, and too emotionally strung to fully explain. You knew you were homebound to an arrogant boy and journeying through the downpour was nothing but fodder for longing. Longing for it all to stop, so you could simply catch a breath.
Just one day. A few more hours. The weekend was within eyesight.
Defeated once more, you simply nodded.
The next ten or so minutes passed slowly. For the first time in days, the rain was a light drizzle. And the sun was trying its damndest to make an appearance.
The inside of Jon's car smelt like - well, him. A foreign cologne mixed with new-car leather. It was sort of nice. But also very unfamiliar. 
You were left feeling alone; in a car, you never belonged in.
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Making it to the clinic, Johnny’s companion jogged out to meet your vehicle at the curb.
You were driven down the next motorway before Jon pulled off to let you out. He felt a little mean and apologised profusely, but you shushed him immediately.
Honestly - you were kind of happy to get out of the car.
Jon’s hybrid was lovely. Truly; an Angel. 
A cat hybrid whose tawny brown fur matched her pulled-back, soft-looking hair. She was pretty, very tall, and had a delicate, twinkling accent. And you got to see a different side to Jon too, if only for a moment. 
But that wasn’t what you had noticed, or been shocked by the most, within your brief exchange. You were shocked by her mannerisms.
You understood that every hybrid worked a little differently - but the characteristics were usually the same across the board. The innate, animalistic instincts, that is. But you hadn’t seen a lot of these behaviours before. Something was… off.
As soon as Angel had entered the car, she emitted a strong purr at Johnny’s side hug. Pulling away to quickly scan you before deciding you were trustworthy; smiles and greetings were exchanged.
Beomgyu… had never purred around you.
Come to think of it - Beomgyu had never even shown you his tail.
Angel seemed to groom hers out of habit, the limb resting on her lap as she smoothed and unknotted the fur. 
And her ears - Beomgyu always tried to hide his in his messy emo-looking mullet. Or at least, that’s what you came to presume; ogling at the way Angel’s seemed to flick and move about so freely.
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Exiting the car, you took the break in the downpour to start quickly walking home. Pushing through the ache in your thighs to cut the distance by as much dryness as possible.
It wasn’t until you tugged your bag tightly over your shoulder that you realised you had forgotten your phone on Johnny’s centre console, charger still inserted.
What the fuck was going on with you today?
You couldn’t walk straight, couldn’t keep your emotions in check, couldn’t breathe as you fought the tears blurring your eyes. A slurry of grief slamming into you like a falling brick wall.
Just another straw on your back.
A stray droplet of moisture hit your nose. Your forehead. Your cheek.
What started as a light drizzle, soon picked up into relentless rain. It took less than a minute, and your skin was already wet to the touch.
You tugged your puffy black hood even tighter around your head. Lungs burning at the effort to not sob pathetically into the middle of the street. Your feet hurt. You were sopping wet. And you had a twenty-minute walk ahead of you, into the outskirts of town.
A soft gust of wind forced you to look away, tucking your chin into the coat even further. When something struck you. The inner lining of the coat smelt familiar - yet, different from your own perfume.
This - wasn’t even your coat?
What? How was that even possible? Did you pick the wrong one up from work?
Confused, you swiped your wet face with your wet sleeve, tugging at the collar until you revealed the inner tag on the side of the hood.
‘Beomgyu’ It read, in neat black sharpie.
Confused. Alone. Shivering, and enveloped by the aura of someone who hated you. 
You sort of forgot how to exist for a step or two.
You stopped, and turned to look up and down the empty country road as you considered the bus stop shelter in front of you. It was somewhere past 6 pm, and the autumn sun was on its fast descent into the darkness.
But you needed to stop. Just - just for a moment, a short while. You couldn’t take it anymore. Tired, and lonely. Surrounded by bustling trees and large splatters of liquid splooshing against rivers in the street. 
Following the stream up the slight hill by the side of the road, you approached the last dimly lit bus stop before your house. The lighthouse in your washed-up storm. Meekly entering to see nobody present. You crumbled onto the seat inside of the shelter. You were torn between ripping your coat off, taking your shoes off or simply not moving.
Choosing the latter, you took a moment to release some of the tears in debt from the night before. So troubled by something you wanted to forget. Such a stupid, stupid thing to be upset over.
You considered every step of your day. Everything you could have avoided, changed. It was your fault, your mind yelled. You chose bad luck by adopting a black cat, right? No - you argued mentally - you were the issue. Not the person in your home, nor the superstitions.
Everything bad was down to your decisions, and it would be you who had to pick up the pieces. Alone.
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Pulling your body and thrown off items up from the refuge, you followed the street lights of the familiar home-bound path. Numb to the lashing of wind, the coldness of the night seeped into your soul and the jittering of your teeth was violently dimmed by the sound of mother nature's passionate winds.
The house was in sight.
With bare feet - coat and shoes in hand - you continued your slow and defeated pace towards the building.
You almost dreaded entering - the lights inside all switched on alerting you to Beomgyu’s presence - even considered turning away.
But without a phone - your money all on contactless - no keys, and in this state.
Where else could you go?
Stepping into the house entryway, you took a moment to wipe your face.
You weren’t even sure if you were crying anymore. It could have been the rain.
You were dissociative as you knocked weakly at the door. Expecting no answer. You wouldn’t blame him for leaving you outside. It was your fault your day had ended up like this, anyways.
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Beomgyu had been trying to reach you for hours.
You never ignored his texts - and for a while, the calls didn’t go through to dial.
But after a good twenty attempts, the call finally went through.
An unfamiliar voice answered. A male colleague. Johnny. 
Beomgyu couldn’t help but prickle - this being the last person you had supposedly been in contact with. And as much as he had no right to want you back after being nothing but a nuisance - god, he couldn’t think about you with another man.
After the first hour, he ran circles. Entirely triggered by the ordeal. It took him to his deepest darkest fears trapped inside, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He couldn’t let himself not care. Maybe he had pushed you too far? Had you abandoned him? Did you hate him enough to leave, and never come back? Had he truly hurt you?
He was an idiot. A mean, selfish, stubborn feline. But God, he was still part human. And it pained him to think of you stranded and potentially swept away by the storm raging outside. He would take a screaming match over this situation, any day.
He couldn’t leave the house - since you didn’t have a key. And he had no neighbours to leave the key to. The other half of the flat is vacant, and Beomgyu is untrusting of strangers. He called his older friend, heart racing as he considered calling the police. You were so - small, and kind - what if someone had taken you?
“Hey, hey, hey, cool off kiddo. I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she found a lift or something? It’s not too late, don’t panic just yet. She could be walking home.”
Yeonjun had offered over the phone call, shocked by the panic in his friend's voice. It was rare for him to worry about someone so much. The last time he saw Beomgyu so distraught was the last time he was taken back to the adoption centre.
Three years ago, after his owner’s boyfriend fought him over nothing but faux dominance within the home. He was left scared and scarred. Doubting of strangers and prickly to kindness. With that morning being the only time you had ever shouted at him - he was scared of the worst-case scenario. 
“You guys had an argument this morning, right? Maybe she went to a friend’s place to cool off. Y’know, like you came round mine today? Give it an hour Gyu. If she doesn’t turn up before eight, we’ll get the boys to help find her. She’s probably fine, I promise.”
The elder fox hybrid did his best to calm him before he had to go. Leaving Beomgyu to sit anxiously in the silent apartment. Fiddling with his hands, pacing. He just wanted you home.
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Around 7 pm was when a weak knock hit the thick wooden front door.
Beomgyu practically leapt from his place on the sofa, padding out to the hallway. Skidding around the corner to reach for the handle and lock, to pull simultaneously. 
Not even taking a moment to compose himself, he pulled the heavy door open to see you standing there.
Your makeup had streaked down your face. Hair matted. Body sopping wet.
He could hear your erratic heartbeat pressing through your thin fabric, despite the whipping winds whistling against the buildings.
He could smell the hormones of sadness and fear rolling off of you in waves; like a tsunami flooding the hall.
You were barefoot - and somewhere between your bottom lip wobbling and your shivering body holding his coat, he couldn’t help the anger that washed over him.
For what felt like a millennium, the two of you stood like two rangers, awaiting the other to draw their weapons first. In reality, the time elapsed was less than a few seconds.
Ultimately, Beomgyu was the first to shoot. And he aimed well.
”You - fucking idiot Y/N - would it kill you to be more careful?! Jesus, get inside -”
His large hand gripped at your elbow, pulling you in and past his body in the thin space available.
“Where were you?! It doesn’t take that fucking long to walk from the highway - you’ve been gone for hours!”
"Y-Your c-coat-t -" You began to apologise, teeth jittering from the cold.
The door slammed shut behind you, Beomgyu snatching his coat from your grip, taking your shoes, and throwing them at the doorway behind his legs.
Anger is a secondary emotion to sadness, and fear.
He had felt both today, and he was struggling to temper himself. 
You tried your best not to cry. Humiliated, and at a loss. Backed up against the cold exposed brick wall.
“Why the fuck did you take my coat?! It’s not even waterproof Y/N - seriously, are you trying to get ill? Is that what you want? To get sick? To get hospitalised because you’re so fucking forgetful? Because you take joy in other people worrying about you?!”
You stifled a whimper, tucking your head down as you shrugged. Gripping at your icy skin.
Beomgyu’s ears flicked up out of his long hair, aching to hear the sounds coming from you. He was stunned for a moment. They aimed at your dipped head and the way you swiped aggressively at your weathered skin. The moving water on your cheeks - they were tears. 
The emotion in his voice ripped through you, water pooling at your feet as you trembled. You were so overwhelmed - couldn’t speak, couldn’t even look at him. Closing your eyes you flinched at the sound of him punching at the wall behind you. He didn’t want to scare you but had to express his twisted emotions somehow.
“Please, please, please can you try to pay a little more attention to things, so I don’t have to worry about your safety all the goddamn time? Shit, Y/N, what if I wasn’t here? Who - who would have come to find you? Nobody Y/N!  Don’t do that shit to me ever, ever again! What if you had been taken - or - or hurt in the storm?! I was ready to get the boys for fuck sa-”
Your eyes were pressed shut, hands reaching up to show your palms in defence.
“I-I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry for making you worry. But please stop shouting at me, I - I’m so tired, Beomgyu. A-and I’ve had such a s-shit day… P-please… Just stop shouting, I can’t take it anymore…”
The sore heaviness of your words cut short Beomgyu’s breathing pattern. The silence in the hall became so thick you could slice it. The only sound coming from your jittering teeth. 
Something painful bloomed in Beomgyu’s chest.
Frowning in an effort not to cry, he let out a sound of desperation. In the most gentle movement you had ever experienced, Beomgyu stepped forward to carefully cup your face.
“You - you pretty idiot, Y/N.”
His warm palms covered your jaw, pushing the hair out of your face before gently kissing your forehead. His body drew closer as he choked up. Adam's apple bobbing as he pulled you into his chest for a tight squeeze. It sent you for a spin, eyes bleary and unfocused as he pulled you back to the wall by the shoulders, face irrevocably close to your own.
“P-pretty -?” You whimpered, a little lost. 
“You might be a forgetful clutz, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see how hard you try… Jeez, Y/N, I've never been more worried about someone in my entire life. You’re so beautiful, but - God, such an idiot. Don’t scare me like that ever, ever again. Shit -”
The world kind of stopped spinning for a moment, when Beomgyu showed you how much he truly did care.
A shaky hand tilted your head back, to place a kiss on your lips.
It was pressed. Slow, heavy. Weakly, you gripped his shirt. He could feel your heart pound against his fingertips through your pulse; your mixed scents washing over him in an unknown shiver.
His lips warmed your cold ones, pulling away to wipe at his own face. He was crying. For you.
You reached cold fingertips up to his cheek to wipe them - it made the area wetter than before and did little to help, but he smiled, laughing softly.
Shaking his head, Beomgyu pushed you back against the wall, peppering your lips with quick anxious kisses until his mouth stayed long enough that his tongue danced with your own. 
Truly, he was just happy to be able to hold you.
He gripped at your thighs; pulling them up around his waist to press you against the wall in one swift motion, securing you with his hips.
Heavy kisses were pressed against your neck and jaw, as hot tears slipped over your cheeks. 
Small, sharp canines nipped gently at the soft skin of your collarbone. Before kissing open-mouthed love bites against your throat. So deliberate, careful and passionate.
You considered never leaving, as his hands dutifully held you against his body. Head tipping back as more and more waves of emotion started to flood out, now that the plug had finally been pulled. 
"Why are you so upset, Y/N?" The feline asked gently. Pulling away to press a feather-light kiss to your lips. He watched the way your face pinched, struggling to form an answer. Noting your white knuckles from the grip of the warm fabric at his shoulders.
“I know it’s not just the storm.” He whispered. “And I know it can’t be totally down to your hormones.”
Beomgyu could feel it in his gut, smell it on your skin; the way you ached about something even harsher than getting caught in the rain. “Tell me.” He pushed, gently coaxing you to open up to him.
“I won’t leave you alone until you do.” Each kiss to your body proved to press the seam of pain apart until it ripped suddenly; revealing the anguish tucked neatly underneath.
Unable to speak, you carded your hands into the back of Beomgyu’s hair, heart painfully beating at pace with the butterflies sparking up a fire in your belly.
He paused for a moment. Dipping his head to your shoulder as your body scrunched up against his torso, tightly, before you unleashed an ugly bubbly, cry. He allowed you to push your fingers up and through his hair, pulling him against you. Enveloped in security. Boards against your shoulders weakened by the weight but withstanding the push.
He was warm, and smelt like home. And you never wanted to let go.
“I’m so sorry.” You whimpered, a sob ripping through you. 
“I-I’m a really awful person, and I can’t seem to get anything r-right. My car broke down, m-my phone died, I burnt myself, f-fucked up at work. And I've been in s-s-so much pain - and so, so hungry - all f-freaking day. My favourite work blouse is ruined and I just - I'm s-so sorry, sorry that I'm so useless, that I forget th-things a-and I drop things, I get tired, and th-then I shout -”
Beomgyu, surprised even at himself, emitted a deep, stomach-rumbling purr.
He pressed his lips to the nape of your neck one last time, before relenting the weighty affection to instead rub his nose up against the curve of your jaw. Purring gently through pursed lips.
He considered how your unhappiness had made his guts churn inside out; how his mood changed by proxy of your unhappiness. And he realised he had become vexed by your sudden lack of vibrancy.
Seeing you, his person, so upset; pulled a piece of his heart apart.
Weak at the knees to your pleading, your need to be comforted. Even if that wasn’t what you were verbally saying, he understood. Understood the feeling of breaking. But unlike what he had suffered, Beomgyu wasn’t prepared to let you go through this alone.
"I don't - I can't even d-deal with myself anymore - I don't - I'm so tired B-Beomgyu that I can't - I won't -"
Beomgyu shushed you quietly, rubbing his nose against your damp cheek. He stayed silent as he let you cry into the open air. Your voice tangled with the garble of pure emotion and jittering bones. Unable to do more than choke for breath and release bubbling rounds of tears.
Beomgyu had never scented anyone before. Avoided it out of shyness.
But the emotion that washed over him was like a happy full-body buzz at you slowly, slowly, starting to smell familiar again. He resisted the push inside of his gut, at least until you were able to truly advocate for your body.
The rain dampened the smell of your clothes, even weakened the smell of Johnny’s cologne and the aroma of the wet electric-fuelled storm. But his gut compelled him to go further. Pupils dilating at the marks blooming against your cold skin. Ears still firmly folded back against his hair as he pulled back to see your face.
You were so distressed.
“Just - shut up.” He whispered, delicately.
“You’re soaking wet, aggressively hormonal, and smell like - well, nothing, but also that guy Jon - Anyways, let me do the talking. You’re a mess, hmm? Don't want you saying anything you don't mean.”
Weirdly, you knew you were safe with Beomgyu taking control. Considering your entire three months of history together, you should have been doubting the trust you instantly felt around him.
But you knew he was more thoughtful than he let on - underneath all those protective insults and mean glares. Knew to boil the kettle after he had used it, leaving hot water for your coffee in the morning. Even leaving your leftovers, without a word. Love appears in the unspoken corners of a person.
“I’m sor-” 
Beomgyu pressed his lips against yours, effectively swallowing the remaining irritation between the two of you. Pulling away, his lips brushed your own as he spoke.
“I said - stop, baby. Just trust me. Trust this. I've got you… Just - I'm happy you're safe… Let me take care of you for once, 'cause I know nobody else fucking does. And I’m not about to let you go mope about and cry alone in the same apartment, hmm? We both know I’m not that mean.”
The tenderness in his voice was entirely new. And for once, he had shown his vulnerability. He showed how much he saw you for who you truly were. How he knew your mannerisms already. How you tried to hide the pain.
And the pet name. Baby?
If you weren’t crying before, you sure as hell were crying now.
You nodded weakly. Truly in no position to fight. Your defences settled and you slumped into his awaiting arms.
Beomgyu shushed you as he moved to carry you both into the shared bathroom. Back to where all of this frustration had started. You held onto his hips with your thighs, gripping his shoulders as he held you to his body. Melting into his temperate movements and the hushing of your tears.
You were so used to being shoved away from him or distancing yourself from his annoying anti-socialism, that being near him like this - was so nice. Strange. But like finding a new path through a forest, you were willing to take the risk for the sake of admiring the scenery. 
He just fit right.
You were starting to believe what you had heard about the healing of purring, as you wiped the tears from your face. Stiffening as he entered the bathroom, tipping you to slide off his hips.
Beomgyu dropped you onto the sink counter.
And his heart bounded in his chest at the sight in front of him. You had covered your face with your hands, wiping and sniffling with a bowed head. Still trying to hide from him.
“Oh g-gosh, I’ve made such a t-tit out of myself, Gyu… God, you m-must think I’m s-so pathetic...”
The boy smiled to himself, while your eyes were distracted. Ears swivelling over the side of his head solely to hear you better.
He chuckled with a small “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” before lacing his fingers between the ones hiding your face. Pulling them back to kiss the edges of your lips. Once, twice. A few more times. Until your lips melded together; hands gripping his shirt as he licked into your mouth. At your soft moan, he pulled away with a bite to your lip, chuckling at you being so much more malleable than usual.
“Come on - clothes off princess.” He poked at your stomach, making you buck in surprise. Laughing gently, he settled your sides with patient hands. “You’ll get a nasty cold otherwise.”
Despite his nonchalant tone, Beomgyu wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in one of his jumpers and keep you there as long as possible. The thought of him claiming you entirely made his neck flush with a feeble purr, pressing a kiss against your cheek. And the thought of how he would have acted if the other hybrid boys had in fact joined the hunt - flooded him with guilt.
What he said was true. You probably would get a cold if you stayed in them any longer. But he didn’t press you. 
His voice stayed hushed as the pads of his fingers wiped the dark liquid from under your eyes, flicking them against his joggers.
“Shh, baby. You’re okay. Let it all out.” 
And when you thought you had stopped crying; his words pushed you to sob against the back of your hand.
As you curled over, he hushed you further.
"You're okay," Pulling your fortified cross-arm-defence apart to let him inside your bubble.
He placed your arms around his neck as he kissed your cheeks, urging you to let him into your pain. With clenched fists you let him tug you closer, pressing his lean and tall chest against you, purring deeply. A deep wash of comfort poured over your scalp until your muscles thawed.
"I've got you…" He rubbed his cheek against yours before kissing your nose. As you tensed away from him, his ears folded and his expression changed.
For just a second, a flash of annoyance had washed over him - a sound of irritation emitted before his tongue licked a quick stripe up the side of your neck. Sucking suddenly and harshly at your neck until you cried out. The distraction ended with another nip of his canines. Scattering kisses against the new aching bruise set in the middle of your pulse until you softened in his arms.
Satisfied, he trailed butterfly kisses up to your lips.
“You smell better when you’re happy.” He grumbled against your lips. Purring through them, almost. “Like warm honey. Turns sour when you're upset. Disgusting and bitter. Not a fan. Not in the slightest.”
Shocked, you laughed. “H-huh? W-what do you m-mean?” Wiping the tears from your eyes to clear the blur.
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, ears flattening to throw his head back dramatically and whine. When he rounded back with a sarcastic love-dipped smile, you laughed, distracted by how beautiful he was. And for a moment, just a single small inhale, you started to smell like yourself again.
“There it is.” He smiled. “Much better.” So quiet you almost couldn’t hear it. 
Before you could react, Beomgyu pulled away from you entirely. Dragging the questions away with him. He moved in such a feline manner; swiftly, and with such grace. Stretching his body upright between your knees on the counter. 
Peering over you, he looked at your clothes expectantly.
The change in pace made you stiff, mumbling a small sound of confusion.
“W-why are you staring at me like that?” 
Beomgyu rolled his eyes before coaxing just one more french kiss from you, drawing away to lick his gums.
Purring, he flicked his gaze down to your top.
“Come on. Clothes, now. Seriously. You’re still shivering.”
“Yes, yes, okay.” You huffed, shuffling forward.
His hands lingered at your side as you slipped off the counter. Silently ready to catch you if you fell.
Standing in front of him, you considered where the hell to even start undressing.
Moving away from his body heat had pushed the shivers to become more aggressive, and as you reached for the buttons of your fitted trousers, you felt your fingers tremble uselessly.
You puffed a small sigh, wiping at your face.
“Do you need help, babe?” Beomgyu questioned after watching you struggle for a good minute.
You paused. Peering up at him. You shrugged, and nodded. Shrugged your shoulders again. Awkward and unsure.
Beomgyu kissed his teeth before going to kneel, choosing for you instead.
He swatted your hands away to unclasp your fabric trousers, tugging the tightly squelching material from your thighs until he could free your legs completely. A slight embarrassment washed through you, but with the way he averted his eyes, you knew you were safe. Using the sink edge as a brace as you looked away bashfully.
Throwing them into a corner, he stood back up, watching as you swiped the damp hair from your face.
“You okay pretty? We can stop, if it’s too much? Still your housemate, you know…” He checked in, breath bated at your possible rejection. He would die if you pushed him away right now, but you had every right to do so. You had stopped crying, finally. And seemed more mentally present than in the hall.
You nodded then shook your head. Falling forward into his chest to wrap your arms around his torso. 
"Thank you." You sniffled into the fabric of his hoodie, face smushed entirely.
Beomgyu stood, a little shocked, before tugging his arms free, and holding you against his body with a shocked laugh. Standing with you - as close as you could possibly be. Scrunching up the material just to grip you tighter. He paused his breath, aching at your sniffles against his chest. Ears tipping to hear you on his left side.
"You're welcome, Y/N -" He mumbled against your hair, relaxing into the hug, voice wavering and tears brimming in his eyes. Smoothing hair from your cheek to rest his face against your own.
“I’m sorry for shouting at you - period - but you scared me, alright? You scare me. The way you make me feel, it’s so strange and, I - I think, I love you, Y/N. Just - please, don’t ever do that shit ever again.” 
Beomgyu’s chest bounced against you as he sniffled away a small, very strong stimulus of a cry; pulling you tighter to his body.
You had never seen him emote like this. Never seen him portray anything stronger than annoyance or irritation.
“I- I thought you had run off, that you were in some serious trouble - that I’d have to go back to the shelter - I don’t know… I thought anything, everything had gone wrong. Next time - I don’t know, hopefully, there never is a next time but - please promise you’ll wait for me? I would have come eventually… if-if I knew you were in that much trouble…”
He coughed slightly, wiping his eyes. Flicking his long hair out of his face. You couldn’t stop the tears that spilled from your cheeks. The way he clung to you - gently and without any evil intent - made you feel so loved and cared for. 
Such a strange thing to suddenly be revealed, from a man that you had been convinced, was placed in your life to make your day-to-day inherently challenging.
You could see now that the lack of communication was the real fiend. 
“And for god’s sake - don’t go calling other men for help anymore! Friend or not - please, God, I hate it when you stink of other people - especially when you come home from a shit day, stinking of your dog friend from the cafe… Ugh, it makes me feel like I'm not good enough. Like - like you don’t feel safe around me?”
You squeezed him tighter at that. 
His lack of confidence and security had been eating away at him. And the guilt had evidently played a part in his emotions, too.
You knew in your heart of hearts that despite being an all-around-dick, he truly would have picked you up had you expressed what had truly happened.
Beomgyu’s tears welled up little by little until he was fully crying. His ears folded back against his hair until they almost disappeared. Neck bent and hand busy wiping any remnants of tears away.
Looking up at his pained expression, you smiled softly. You reached to wipe the hairs from his eyes. Equally, a line of dampness materialised over the height of your cheek. He truly was such a sweetheart, underneath such a brash exterior.
“I’m sorry, I just - I’m here for you, I always will be. Just because I’m a dick sometimes, doesn’t mean I'm always a horrible person. It hurts me to see you in so much pain. Just - please - stop crying! It’s making me cry!!”
As Beomgyu pulled back a hand to swipe at his own face, he sniffled through a forced laugh. Smiling, you reached to brace his shoulders, tipping his chin to leave a kiss on the corner of his lips. His ears pulled forward into a hopeful, puppy-dog expression. It was… cute.
“I never knew you could be so nice, Gyu. You should try it more often.” 
The tall feline released an airy laugh, lifting you back onto the sink with welcome strength. 
“Yeah, whatever.” He scoffed as he dipped his face down to chase your lips; gripping at the soft flesh of your hips to pull you closer to his body.
Your hands rested at his neck, gently holding his face. Beomgyu pressed at your pursed lips with his own, until a small unfamiliar sound like a feline whine distracted you enough for Beomgyu to huff, pinching your chin up to allow his tongue to lick up in one swift movement against your palette.
It made your head immediately spin, your mood easily spiralling as you moaned softly. Beomgyu's hands squeezed at your behind as he fought for dominance; eventually pulling your face away with his hands, cutting short the passion to see your puffed lips and slackened jaw, keening softly at his teasing.
To your absolute shock-horror and amusement, a string of saliva cut between the air, connecting your mouths in such a filthy way that Beomgyu immediately groaned at the sight. 
“Fuck, you’re so cute like that, baby.” He whispered breathlessly; only to break the string of spit with another forceful approach. Pressing against your body to hold you in place as a hand snaked to hold your neck; at will to the feline who probed at your gums and pulled such wanton sighs from your body.
The tongues caught between each other's teeth reflected how the two of you felt so strongly about each other. How much you had been hiding from each other. How you yearned to be near him, even if he teased you endlessly. How he loved to be near you, even if you made him beet-red from anger. Three months of pent-up emotion released into each other through flesh and energy. The fear and love of the two of you trapped on either side of a literal storm, coming to a singular point.
Beomgyu settled, soothing his palms over your thighs. Obviously, his mind had wandered; changing pace once more. He pulled away from your face as your cold skin drew his attention away from your lips. Your fingers combed through the hair at his neck, welcoming the kiss to your jaw. Soft to the touch. Streaks of white flicked over your hand as you played with it. Pulling it against your knuckles to hear his gentle sigh.
Then, something new flicked in the corner of your vision. Using the moment to test your curiosity, you reached for the tall triangle felt black ear peeking from the top of his head. It jerked harshly, sensitive to your touch as your cold fingers brushed against the skin, sending a shiver down Beomgyu’s body. Namely, straight down his spine and into his crotch.
"Ah- stop, Y/N I’m sensitive - nngh, fuck…"
He grit his teeth to resist emitting a ridiculously loud purr as you leaned towards his scalp for a proper angle. Taking advantage of his body tensing up in surprise; you reached for his ear again before he could pull away completely, ignoring his whine of protest.
You tested your lightbulb idea - pinching the inside and the outside of his ear between your thumb and forefingers, to rub the pads of your fingers together with a slight pull away from the skull, very close to the base of the ear. If it was heavenly for pet cats, you expected it to be the same for humans.
It turned out to be almost orgasmic.
Beomgyu moaned softly, eyes fluttering until his forehead flopped forward onto your shoulder. You laughed softly in disbelief, applying more pressure now you knew you were safe.
His voice was so pretty. His lips parted as his head fuzzed over, jaw slack. Consumed completely by the feeling of electricity dancing all over his scalp and the top of his spine. And that deep, rumbling purr he had been trying to hold in so desperately; vibrated loudly against your collarbone. Almost unconsciously, Beomgyu nuzzled against the juncture of your neck. His hands rested next to your thighs, as you brushed his hair with the other hand. Laughing at the second shiver bolting down his spine, purely from adding a scratching element.
He hadn't  - nobody had touched his ears like that in years. He had almost forgotten how sensitive they were.
You used your spare hand to rub his neck, then shoulder. Sliding down his jumper to follow his arms, eventually slipping into the knuckles at your sides. His fingers relaxed before gripping your palms together. Weirdly, it was even more intimate than making out, and your hearts hummed in glee.
The purring vibrating across your shoulders had almost distracted you from the bulge in Beomgyu’s sweatpants pressing directly against the counter.
The flush to his cheeks and neck was giving his true emotions away. The way his left hand kneaded at the skin on your thighs, ass, and hips. The wholesomeness of the purr had almost distracted from all of this. And you had never thought about the prospect of such a reaction in a sexual setting - but if his lips and chest were vibrating this much from such a gentle touch; you could only imagine the implications of an even stronger vibration in other positions.
But the slower your circular motions, and the more you tugged against the tight muscles of his scalp; the deeper he seemed to slip into this mind-numbing state. You were almost 90% sure he would cream his pants before you could do much about anything. The thought made you smile, fondly. His demeanour, so malleable in this submissive state. And you were half tempted to push the dynamic - but you were too tired, at least for now.
Finally relenting your ear-mania, you ruffled his hair back into place with a small smile. Swiping at the last sniffles from your nose, before meeting his eyes as he pulled away.
“Sorry - I just, always wanted to do that. And you always hide them, so…” You spoke shyly, unsure what to do with yourself now that the ball was back in his court.
But - something was different. The way Beomgyu looked back up at you. His aura had changed. It had switched into something totally new and unfamiliar. His pupils pinched quickly, before expanding in a mesmerizing display of affection.
You searched his face for more clues as his palm pressed solidly over your thigh, over your underwear at your hips and up to the edge of your stomach until his palm rested against your ribs.
His hands from under the fabric tugged up; encouraging you to pull the thick blouse over your head. With patient hands the item eventually broke free from your body, cringing as the fabric slopped onto the sink before Beomgyu tossed it behind him and into the pile at the door. Once again, his ears pulled back in momentary softness as he met your eyes, hands restless to find purchase on your skin.
Being naked in front of him like this; strangely, you were okay with it. And, to add to your newfound joy; he was still purring. And smiling. Maybe this was all a dream, and you had fallen asleep at your work desk? But no, the twitch in his smile brought you back into this reality.
“Your eyes are different, Gyu?” You had asked, bemused at his body's reaction. Voice scratchy and hoarse from the crying.
Reacting to your tone, naivety, and curiosity in place of judgement, even his new pet name - it all made his ears fold back until his eyes creased into an oddly soft smile. A natural reaction to your voice that he was sick and tired of hiding.
With a tongue pressed to his canines, he giggled. Not quite the reaction you had expected, but refreshing nonetheless.
Beomgyu pulled you closer by the hips via his grip on your love handles; until your noses met and your hip bone tilted forward, ultimately pressing your core up against his very solid erection. The action made you moan airily, hips fidgeting against such a sudden change of pace, hands bracing at his shoulders. Your cheeks heated up, your body twitching in anticipation. 
You had kissed, but now this was something different.
Beomgyu’s smile was Cheshire-like - and his pupils were blown out wide as he nuzzled your face aside to kiss and nip at your jawline. It was funny; his feline tendencies showed in the most random ways. His energy remained unpredictable as he began running his nose against the juncture of your jaw, ear, and neck. Until he seemed to settle at the bruise blooming against your pulse.
Purring softly, Beomgyu’s hold on you softened. Supporting your spine now instead of securely holding it. His energy was entirely focused on leaving open-mouthed kisses on top of your pulse; ears flickering with how hard your heart beat the blood to the surface. Beomgyu sucked at the same spot until your knees drew together at his hips, scraping his blunt nails down your legs to soothe you. Encouraging your breathy moans with his own purrs dipping lower in vibrato, confirming every twitch and movement to gain friction against your core.
Beomgyu pulled away suddenly with a lewd pop, rubbing his nose against your own as you came eye-to-eye with a cat who looked like he had snorted a week's worth of catnip. Before you could respond, he bit playfully at your lip, dragging it with him as he pulled away to mumble into your hairline and ear.
“I can smell how needy you are, baby. It's pretty, and sweet, just like you. My eyes are different ‘cause they dilate when I want to fuck something. And I can tell you want to fuck me, too. Can tell you really need it,  baby. Can tell how much your body is aching for those cramps to go away, hmm? How wet you are already? You've needed a good fuck ever since I got here angel, God you smell so much like warm honey when you're turned on, it's insane… intoxicating, even. So much prettier when you smile.” 
Letting you process what he had so brazenly pointed out, he chuckled at your flushed and abashed expression. The change in pace he kept setting was giving you whiplash - dominant, straight into playful, then back into a domineering pace.
And it was so unlike him to speak like that - in such a filthy way. But it wasn’t unwelcome. 
Your eyes told him all that he needed to know; your eyebrows and nose pulled into an expression of confusion while you released a gentle sound of pleasure at the thin skin pulled delicately between his teeth. Pulling back, he laughed at you playfully.
“What? They never told you about a hybrid’s sense of smell amongst all that shitty fuckin’ paperwork?”
Pulling down your brows, you shook your head.
“No?” You mumbled, questioning yourself now too.
Beomgyu hummed in amusement while tilting his head to the side incredulously. Now, this was curious. His nose and ear twitched as he considered how naive you truly were in this situation. 
“They told you nothing about our sense, at all? Not even heightened hearing?” He questioned in disbelief. And his tone once again slid from mockery, into kindness.
You shook your head again.
The feline thought about it for a moment, gaze floating inwardly before centring back on your face. He hummed, kissing the edge of your lips only to pull away as you chased him.
“Mmmm, that explains a lot, actually. The past three months have been absolute torture.”
Beomgyu pressed his forefinger against your lips as you attempted to spurt some very sudden thoughtless questions (probably); shaking his head with a mocking smile. It wasn’t a dominance you were used to. Stern, yet somehow playful in the way he moved with you. 
Testing the waters - you let your jaw fall enough for your lips to fall open. Beomgyu’s short bout of shock melted into pride; pleased, as he pressed the digit down against your tongue.
It was such an unfamiliar feeling, so unlike anything you had ever done with other people. But despite his teasing and his insufferable attitude, something told you that you could trust him. Something jittering in your heart like a bird in a cage. A purr rippled across his chest as you sucked, so obviously satisfied. Ears dropping forward, canines appearing in his adoring smile.
“We can smell around three times the strength and distance that humans can.” He started, rubbing his thumb against your chin as you moved your tongue around the digits, sitting patiently on your hands. It was awfully demeaning - but with the way hearts formed in his eyes, you had to painfully admit to yourself how much you loved it.
“Our hearing is better, too. Some breeds have heightened physical abilities… Not that that really matters. Shit, Y/N, every time you pleased yourself after a long shift - it was absolute fuckin’ torture, babe. I thought you were doing it as - as part of our little game, but - how could you have known? You had no idea what you were doing to me - Had no idea how beautiful you sounded.”
Beomgyu pulled his hand away to exchange a delicate kiss, purring against your lips as he reached around to gently unhook your damp bra. Sliding it off to throw it into the wash bin without moving his gaze. Wow, that was weirdly attractive.
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I took it as part of the power-play. I should have said something, maybe?”
You quickly noted the change in expression; he almost seemed deflated. His ears folded to the side as he withdrew into shyness. 
“No - no - it’s fine it - it doesn’t change anything, really. If anything I - you’re lucky, I’m kind of really into voyeurism.”
Beomgyu’s attention snapped up, tall triangles standing to attention as his poker face remained unreadable. “What? Seriously?”
You forced yourself to explain before you burned up in embarrassment, or before this whole thing got awkward. If you can’t beat ‘em - tell them your most intense fetishes? That always works, right?
“Like - I’ve never thought about actually doing it before but - but the fact you could hear me do stuff and potentially even - smell? all of that - it’s kinda hot Gyu, as weird as that is to admit. And if it was helping you get off as well… I sort of, don’t mind? I promise - I’m not offended. Promise.”
Beomgyu’s eyes checked your expression - attempting to find any hint of foul play - before exchanging a nod. Followed by a slight pause for the two of you to smile in agreement - two perverted consenting adults to the other - before his eyes and hands flitted towards your chest. Focus, obviously switched now that was out of the way.
His intermittent bouts of purring hiked up a good pitch, ears folding sideways, a sign of obvious joy. He peered back up at your shy squirming expression, moving to press easing kisses against your lips.
Releasing a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, your hands found purchase on his forearms, allowing him to marginally move away.
“You really are so pretty baby, but you’re still so cold ~” He mumbled through a purr, fixated on how cold your skin was under his seemingly burning hot palms. As his hands soothed over your ribs and a thumb brushed the underside of your breast, his brows pulled into a frown. He seemed hesitant. And so you reached to pull his face closer for a kiss. You met his lips at an angle and broke apart for air after another shared smile.
A sigh slipped through your lips as he moved to kiss and nip against the skin at your jugular, softness melting into passion once again - his body moving down until his lips suckled around your nipple, leaving kisses all over your chest - but not touching you where you truly wanted him. You whined softly, gaining his attention. Beomgyu’s ears flicked up, followed by his face.
"Gyu - please… Quit teasing…"
He peeked back up at you with a guilty, playful look. 
“Sorry. You’re just beautiful, Y/N.” He giggled.
Such an - honest compliment, from him. You smiled, thanking him quietly.
His hands finally found their place as he gently squeezed your breasts in either palm. It was an amazing feeling - but far too intense. A small shocked yowl sounded from the back of Beomgyu’s throat as you hissed at the soreness of your body, gripping his wrist to stop before releasing a breath and relaxing again. His ears had immediately jerked up and forward at your discomfort; eyes wide as he watched you anxiously, stiff as a board.
“Ouch, Gyu - gently, please… period boobs. No harm done, just - easy tiger...” 
He nodded sheepishly in understanding, eyes, and ears softening, kissing at your cheek in apology before dipping to kiss your collarbone, hands working gently to ease the ache in your breasts. He even ignored the hated nickname - tempering his emotions for you.
But as much as he knew he could move on, he found himself drawn back again and again to the juncture of your neck. At this point he was frustrating himself; sucking at the broken skin until your moans turned into whines and your hips moved mindlessly,  chasing the friction. He needed to do something about it before he truly did cum from fantasy alone. 
He pulled away from yet another mind-melding hickey that was being placed at the same sensitive spot he had been abusing this whole interaction, a moan spilling from your lips as the pleasure was suddenly pulled away. His words were breathy, restless, eyes pleading.
“Bringing all the blood to the surface in just the right spot - fuck, baby, it brings your scent out so strongly. It’s so addictive. God, you smell so good - please, please let me mark you? Fuck, please - I’ll do anything - it might hurt but God I need to do it before I go insane -”
“Yes, fine! Jeez you’re starting to freak me out Gyu - take a breath!”  Laughing softly at his desperateness to get your approval, you nodded with a bashful expression.  “What do you even mean? Not like that Twilight shit?”
Beomgyu was losing his mind, so much so that the humour flew over his head.
“Fuck, I think I might cry -” His choked voice matched with his hurried kiss, leaving you breathless as he tugged you closer to his crotch on the edge of the sink.
“or come - fuck, it means - marking means nobody else can touch you, you’re mine only to play with. Think about it, if you smell this good on any given day I’m surprised nobody has tried to propose already -” 
As he moved to dive into your jugular you scoffed, pushing his forehead back as you made a face.
“Woah! Easy there cowboy! Care to explain a little more about claiming my soul before you take it please?!”
Beomgyu groaned deeply, whining like a child as his ears folded back.
“Ugh, fine!” He cried at your attempt to push him away, but not before gripping your chin to kiss you into a moaning mess. Your hips tilting to gain some kind of friction against the boner pressing up against your core. It made him groan airily as he pulled away, purring deeply once more.
“It means,” He started sarcastically, before moving to lick at the shell of your ear, a moan slipping from your throat in embarrassingly fast record time and a shiver shaking your body.
“No other hybrid fucker can put their hands on you. It means you’re protected if you’re into that. It means that I love you - fuck -” He groaned gently, biting at your bruised jugular with sharp teeth. You flinched, whining until he pulled away.
“Means only I can touch you, baby. Come on, I can tell you want it, look at you ~ you’re so sensitive ~” He purred against your ear as his thumb rolled over your nipples, biting at your ear lobe. You had been completely called out. Panties sticking to your core as your face heated; Beomgyu’s the finger that tapping against the edge of your underwear. Caught, red-handed.
“O-okay…” You offered, a little unsure. “Just be gentle with - whatever it is…”
He smiled against your neck, a new and somehow even deeper purr making a short rumble across your shoulder. 
He left a kiss at your cheek in thanks before his hands gripped the back of your hips, pressing your hips into his at such a tilt that he was holding you from falling. You started to grind against his member pressing against your clit from behind his joggers, reaching for a kiss before he sucked harshly at your neck.
The kisses were gentle; until they weren't. Beomgyu’s barely dulled canines pressed into your pulse until your body stiffened and you tried to pull away. Beomgyu pushed a purr, maintaining the pressure to not break the skin but not leave without some obvious remnant of a bruise. 
His patient hands began guiding your hips, which made you moan softly, ignoring the pain to scrape your nails up against the back of his ears. He responded in kind, finally releasing your skin to kiss at the juncture of your neck and jaw. 
The pain settled after a few harsh seconds; the friction of your bodies proved to distract you beautifully. 
Pulling away with a deep moan mixed with a rumble, Beomgyu’s eyes blew open again, ears flopped back into a doting expression, his thumb coming to wipe at the skin. Followed by his hands in a mesmerized state, before leaning to rub his cheek against yours in a soft embrace.
“You sound like an old radiator, Gyu.” You giggled, actually enjoying this side of him.
He smiled. “That’s all you, baby. Just happy you’re okay.” 
He had bit down hard enough to leave a mark, but not enough to break the skin. The two of you took a moment to hold each other.
“So - what now?” You offered quietly, loving his scoff at your sudden bravery.
“Well, Yeonjun will stop fucking bothering you, for one. That guy sticks around you like a fly and now finally he might get the hint. Soobin, too. Those guys are dogs, seriously -”
“But Soobin’s a bunny?” You laughed.
“Yeah, well,” Beomgyu laughed back, “they’re even worse sometimes. Rabbits have an almost endless libido - honestly, I pray every day for his partner.”
“Someone sounds jealous. Scared you’ve got competition? Maybe Yeonjun has more game?”
Beomgyu released a low yowl sound, lip twitching into an annoyed expression and tutting as his ears folded against his scalp. You obviously touched a nerve, a solid slap sounding against your thigh. Laughing with a scoff of surprise, you soothed a hand down his chest, kissing him into security. 
“Stop it, you sensitive feline. They don’t even mean anything to me. Where are they now, hmm?” He hummed gently before rolling his eyes, purring softly at your nails scratching at the base of his ear until he melted, moving your hand away to peck your lips.
“Not between your legs, I know that much. Think they'd kill to be here though.” Beomgyu huffed moodily, sucking his gums.
Laughing you nodded, pointing to the hand securely attached to your boob.
“Yeah, and they're not the ones touching me up, either! Seriously, as if I'd even let that sly fox within a foot of any of this…" Beomgyu smiled proudly, expression softening until you pulled him into a gentle embrace, butterfly kissing his lips until he truly melted.
Your foreheads rested together for a moment. Just breathing, settling your minds. 
All until Beomgyu released a sharp yawn against your hair. Stretching up and away from you suddenly as he moved to turn on the shower. Testing the water with his hand for a while before nodding his head towards the lush rainfall. You thanked yourself for that renovation. Watching him in curiosity. Still enamoured by the parts of his personality that kept appearing.
You slipped off the sink, hands covering your chest in modesty. Beomgyu smiled familiarly, ears folding as his eyes crescented. You stepped forward to pinch his oversized shirt. Tugging the fabric.
He laughed softly, confirming your intentions before reaching to tug it off, throwing it to the corner. Timid, his demeanour curved for a second before you reached to pull him closer for a kiss. He accepted, humming against your lips.
Curious, you spread your hands against his skin. Much to your amusement - his stomach was firm, yet soft.
Unsurprisingly, your hands dipped to his hips next. 
Beomgyu was definitely in shape - abs mellowed by his soft honey-coloured skin. But it really showed at his waist. Beomgyu laughed at your eagerness as you smiled back up at him. Willing yourself to calm your heart down as you decided to commit to what was happening.
Your cold hands against Beomgyu made him shiver, moan and purr all in a disjointed rhythm as you dipped under the waistband of his joggers.
He laughed softly, before your hands fully found their way around his shaft, pressing gently just to hear his pretty moan. With flushed cheeks, his jaw slacked. Eyes pulling over a haze as boys do when their body is full of lust.
The steam in the bathroom was quickly rising against the strength of the wall fan, your shivers tempered by the warmth. Your lover's body warmed your hands, overheating for your sake. What a waste of water.
Beomgyu sighed as you worked your hands up and down his cock, reaching to kiss his neck as your thumb swiped the precum down the vein on the underside. Pulling with a slight twist as your tacky foreheads met in the dim bathroom light - not even able to see him fully yet, but thrilled by the weight and length in your hands.
He leaned into your touch until his head became fuzzy, and then he needed to move on. Wanting to get you warm before you did anything together. Selfish, to be selfless.
The kisses on your skin were so kind. Loving. Gentle. As his fingers danced against your hips, before gently cupping you over your underwear. You moaned directly against his ear as he rubbed softly against the fabric and around your clit in a circular motion, the flicking of his ears and a deep purr letting you know how happy he was to hear you.
Finally, as you pressed your thighs together, Beomgyu hooked his fingers into the fabric, slipping them down to your feet. He groaned openly, enveloping you into a kiss before pulling away with your lip between his canines. He had smelt the aftermath or build-up of your hormones before - but being the reason behind them made his hands shake in anticipation.
“Your sweats -” You mumbled against his lips, loving the way he smiled back at you. Nodding in glee.
He moved away to fully undress, kicking the fabric away before shyly looking back at you.
You didn’t know where to look.
At his beautiful body as a whole. Pretty cock. Or gorgeous shaggy pitch-black tail.
He watched you with affection as you scanned him, taking a second to return the gesture before your eyes met again. He could tell you had questions, smiling as he brushed the hair off your face.
“Maine coon mix. I prefer to keep it short. Otherwise, it’s big, fluffy and annoying as hell. Especially when people call me cute, because of it.” 
Beomgyu’s ears twitched forward at your giggles. An ease washed over him. You were so much happier than when you had come in. And the tears had finally stopped.
“You’re pretty Gyu. Really handsome. Y-you should show it off more often!”
A loud purr sounded as his ears folded, and he nodded shyly. It was so - expressive. His tail. You couldn't stop staring at it. The way it twitched at your voice, curling then unfurling around his ankles. 
Beomgyu laughed. Laughed harder than he had all night. But it was all a show; hiding the heat flushing his neck by tugging you into the shower after him.
Holding your wrists as he walked you backwards into the water stream, kissing you under the hot water. 
It was thrilling. The feeling of being so surrounded. He moved back to shake his hair, laughing as you splashed him back in the face in retaliation. Only for you to grip his scalp to meet his mouth for a kiss, Beomgyu releasing a loud whine before a beastly purr. 
Hair pulling. You bookmarked that for a later date.
Somehow - despite your age and the situation - you ended up fighting. In the shower. What started as innocent water flicks at the other when their back was turned; quickly ended with you, wrists gripped at your abdomen as Beomgyu’s arms flexed to keep you still.
"Stop fucking flicking me with water! I am trying to help you warm up! Not drown in the shower!" He cried, taking the opportunity to bite at your shoulder.
You both laughed until you no longer could, humming as you looked up behind you. Beomgyu rolled his eyes, as a light purr settled against your back.
Dipping his head to meet your lips, he covered your face from the water. Giggling through his kisses at his long hair creating a slight cove in the stream. Something out of an artsy-emo edit, probably.
You didn’t care.
In your heart of hearts, you prayed it wasn’t a one-time thing. Part of you could tell - his eyes were following your every movement with a blush to his cheeks - that every second was full of love. 
And for once, with a partner, you weren’t nervous.
It’s not that he was totally experienced, but he was prepared to just wait, and to hold you, and to be held. He wasn’t in it just for the outcome. And you never knew sex could be fun; that you’d be laughing as he gripped at your chest, heart warmed through till your skin was on fire.
Beomgyu gently prodded you until your face was out of the shower stream, shoulders pressed against cool tiles. He bit at your lip, pulling it with him as you pushed the hair out of his face affectionately, trailing open mouth kisses down against your collarbone.
The boy was pretty tall. Having to shake out his hair when going to kneel in the restricted space, tail laying over his calves. He kissed down your sternum until he met your stomach, lips paying attention to your hips and hands holding the back of your thighs.
But his ears twitched from the water, pulling away in annoyance. 
Reaching over to the water, you turned it down halfway, Beomgyu’s ears folding as he shyly smiled.
“Thanks, pretty girl.” He mumbled against your thigh. “It’ll be good, I promise.”
You weren’t exactly sure what he was referring to, but as he hooked your thigh up and over his shoulder, your heartbeat almost leapt out of your mouth and you had no thoughts to spare.
He placed a pretty kiss to your core, before moving to place deep hickeys to your thighs, winking at you with a grin as his arm wrapped around your other leg. It held you in place as his thumb came from underneath, tapping at your clit to see you jump and squeal. 
“Aah!! Gyu! I’m sensitive, don’t be a tease!” Your body flushed as his shoulders shook with his airy laughter. Beomgyu apologised, nipping at your thigh before setting.
He turned his attention to eating you out with more intent than you had ever seen from him.
He started with kisses; testing the waters as he held you still. It was heavenly. Warm lips sucking and licking in a steady pattern, curling the coil in your stomach. Your hands found purchase at his shoulders, watching the water cascade down his beautiful back as your abdomen filled with bumbling warmth.
“Ngh - Gyu -” You whined softly, enveloped by his attentiveness.
He chose not to communicate; instead watching you with curious eyes as he circled your entrance with his thumb, before dipping a finger into your core. Moaning softly, your nails gripped at his skin. After a few pumps, he entered another finger, shallower but curling towards him.
He pulled away for a breath. “You’re so pretty, baby. Try and relax for me. You deserve it. I love you.”
He licked a long strip against your folds as he moved his fingers at a steady pace, your mind and body fuzzed over almost instantly. He had proclaimed his feelings so confidently, and it sent you for a spin.
You hadn’t even realised you had closed your eyes, but they jumped back open as he hummed against you, pulling away with a pop.
“You should cum first baby. Go on, I can tell you’re close.” His mumbled encouragements were so soft; fingers curling against him as you cried out. Holding on, on, on, on, until you crumbled.
As he pulled away, Beomgyu placed a kiss at the soft of your belly, holding your hips steady before kissing your forehead. Dazed, you melted into his touch.
Loving him just felt right.
Falling against his hold as he spun you away from the stream of water. The shower curtains rustled before his chest pressed against your back. He held you for a moment. Fingers wandering to your chest, nipples rolled against his palm.
The purr was back, against your shoulder blades. Matching how your mind felt as you heard lewd sounds behind you. 
“You’re so pretty Gyu…” You mumbled, head resting against the tiles. 
You didn’t have to see him to know it. You’d seen him plenty.
Beomgyu kissed your shoulder in response, thankful he was able to hide the smile breaching his hazed features. 
Working himself until a point didn’t take very long; having such a beautiful muse made the creation of a boner, pretty damn easy.
“You sure about this, Y/N?” 
Beomgyu’s mellowed question pulled you to peer behind, over your shoulder. He seemed worried. That this wasn’t the right decision. That he was showing his vulnerabilities far too soon. His brows were furrowed, inside of his mind.
Leaning back, you left a kiss against his neck.
“I’m sure, Gyu. I want this. Promise.”
That seemed to pull him out of his self-doubt. A tender expression breached his handsome features. Leaning in to kiss you deeply as he held your stomach at a curve, chest pressed against the tiles. 
With your legs straight and standing up; Beomgyu hit deep. As he entered you sighed deeply, Beomgyu moaning beautifully. When he bottomed out, your thighs shook in anticipation. He ran his nose at your skin, purring. Taking a moment just to savour this feeling of connection.
After a moment, your shuffles and moans told him when it was good to move. Hands reaching for yours, intertwining between your shoulders and the tiles. 
It really didn’t take very long for the whole thing to hit peak. But then; heaven has never had a time limit.
Beomgyu found no need for empty dirty-talk like your past lovers. Instead; the steam, the sounds of pure instinctual love, the shared words of care and devotion, the running water, his soft groans and even your own; it was the best music either of you had ever heard. 
Beomgyu continued his steady thrusts, before a slight stutter of his hips threw his rhythm off. Hips hitting hard, deep and heavy until you cried out; Beomgyu cumming with breathless pants. He tried not to collapse from the best orgasm he had maybe ever had - steadying himself before checking on you.
His purr’s were deep against your back, his arms falling to dip his forehead into the crook of your neck and hold you. He pulled his mind out of the gutter, biting at your ear and jaw as he drew you back, via his hold across your stomach. Staying inside of you, he held your wrists up as he met your lips - a kiss full of tongue and teeth, pure filth - before his other hand flicked a quick pace at your clit. The pads of his fingers skilled as your body shivered.
“Quickly baby, com’ on, I know you can do it. Look at you, fucked out and all trembly, just for me. Come on, you can do it. Quickly baby.”
Without any control, still full and clenching around him - sensitive moans sounding from Beomgyu pushing his sensitivity - it didn’t take very long for you to submit to his pleasant pleading, pushing you to come just one more time.
Just for him.
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The two of you did, eventually clean up. 
Holding each other for a while before he left you to shower per request; meeting you with a large towel and radiant kisses to wrap you up as soon as you stepped out of the tub.
Things were - going to be okay.
Different than before. But good. You didn’t feel so alone in this big blue storm, anymore.
Of course, some things would never change. Bullying Beomgyu into doing house chores was just another thing left on your list. And your inability to cook left you both bickering over take-out options. 
Beomgyu's abs flinched against your cold hands. Body settling again to let you slide your hand under his shirt, pulling the cotton fabric up against your forearm - before pulling back entirely. Legs perched either side of his hips, as he lay lazily lengthways on the sofa.
Beomgyu's ears flicked, a small purr of contentment floating out of his lips.
You were avoiding meeting his face, and so much quieter than normal. He wasn't so sure how to handle you. This new intimacy. He was afraid he would somehow fuck it all up. But he could only try his best.
"What is it, Y/N?"
You bit your cheek. Turning your head to avert your eyes as you moved to tug your shirt off, underwear loose but maintaining your modesty as you were otherwise bared.
"I'm cold..." You mumbled, covering yourself with your arms before resting down between his chest and chin. Arms folded between your bodies.
"You're so clingy." Beomgyu laughed. Softly, and for once without menace.
He tried his best to push out a large purr, breathing deeply as your erratic heartbeat began to thump more kindly against his skin. He liked this feeling. Skin against his. When your pulse slowed after comfort.
His knuckles soothed down your back as he reached for the throw on the back of the sofa; tucking you between his legs and enveloping you in affection. Tail loosely wrapping around your ankle and resting there.
"You can cry - if you need to, you know. You deserve that. I know you’re still upset, I can smell it hanging over you like a sour rain cloud. And - I know you don’t know how to explain what is going on in your mind. And we both know I’m not very good at talking. So we’re at a stalemate. But - I’ll stay. I promise. I’ll just stay with you until whatever it is, hurts a little less. Okay?"
His offer twinged like a hot coil in your gut. Your body going stiff; before a slight shudder and a whimper emanated from the small hole in the blanket. You were crying. Pressing his tongue against his palette, he pushed himself to purr even deeper.
Getting a sore throat was nothing when it came to comforting his person.
He could deal with a sore throat. But he didn’t think he could deal with you being upset for too long, as selfish as that was.
“I’ve got you.” He spoke into the open air. Your sniffles masked by insistent pattering thundering rain. Tight arms compressing you both into healing. Your souls content, if not in a reasonable amount of pain. “I know you’ve got me too.”
“For the record,” You snuffed into his clothes, pulling away to cough against your hand. "You’re the idiot, idiot." You wiped at your face; nose sore from earlier and a cold slowly approaching through the sleepy haze.
His fingers brushed against the bumps against your neck. He almost felt bad for leaving them there, fangs indented into your jugular. But he couldn’t deny the fuzzy pride that he filled with when you shyly caught his hand, holding it there. 
He smiled sadly. “That will go in a few days, you know.”
You smiled, poking his chest with a giggle.
“We can always make another one, Gyu?”
Beomgyu blinked before his ears peeled back and his smile turned gummy, shrugging shyly.
“Oh, hahaha.” He laughed, humbled by your return of the pet name. Ah, this was what love felt like. He had almost forgotten. “Are you sure you - want me, like that, Y/N?”
Rolling your eyes, you shrugged.
“Depends - will you start hoovering?”
Beomgyu’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, jumping up before flopping down as you stayed sitting on his stomach.
“Fuck no!!” He cried desperately, “But I’ll let you come to band practice if you want to be around me so badly.”
You squinted at his faux smugness, punching his chest before crossing your arms.
He cried out, giggling until he could pull you to slide between him and the back of the sofa, ignoring your whining to drown you in fabric.
“Gyu! Get off me! HELP! I’m drowning - SEND HELP!” 
But you were merely playing. Accepting kisses between giggles.
“Shut up, and get some rest. We’re ordering food tonight.”
“I’m so squished and stuffy Beomgyu -”
“Good. Oh, and, I love you, idiot.”
“Laundry duty and I’ll say it back?”
“Fuck no, but I still love you. Even if you don’t say it back.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you have a cat-boy for a boyfriend. Nerd.”
“Oh - when did I say it could be official?”
"You didn't - I did. It’s in your best interest. Trust me. I would know.”
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MAIN MASTERLIST /// TXT MASTERLIST /// IMAGE MASTERPOST
[UIHALL - PART 2.I HERE] /// [UIHALL - PART 2.II CONTINUED]
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well would you look at that: updated 5/DECEMBER/2023
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tenpintsofsundrop · 9 months
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Missing You
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Gar Logan x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd Smut Blurb
Concept: Gar misses his two best friends. When he calls the two of you, he certainly doesn't expect to find you in such a... compromising situation.
Word Count: 2,800
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Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: there is a lot of Gar/Jason (emotionally and sexually), dubious consent - Gar listens to the reader and Jason having sex without their consent (but they don’t mind when they do find out), invasion of privacy (but again, they don’t mind it), would this be considered eavesdropping?, accidental voyeurism (and then on purpose voyeurism), Gar masturbates while listening to Jason and the reader have sex over a FaceTime call but Jason and the reader don’t know Gar is listening, Gar feels slightly guilty about being horny in this situation, lots of dirty talk, Jason is more dominant, reader is definitely submissive, Gar is (slightly?) submissive (though he is not ‘involved’ for most of the sex act), the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (though she is not really the ‘center’ of this fic), Jason has a filthy mouth, p in v sex (between Jason and reader) - actually protected sex this time (which is a surprise for my fics) (it’s my headcanon that Jason is a big proponent for condoms/safe sex), degradation kink (towards the reader), terms used to describe the reader: slutty/slut, cocksleeve, hole, fucktoy/toy, cumdump, good girl; slightly possessive Jason (but it’s clear that he doesn’t mind sharing with Gar), spanking (very light, no severe pain kink) - mention of clit spanking, mention of orgasm restriction, mentions of sexting/sending nudes. I believe that’s everything.
A/N: This is a repost. I did some tweaking to it, but it is still mostly the same. So if you have read it before, I hope you enjoy it. And if it's your first time reading it, I hope you like it again. I have a half-finished sequel to this in my drafts, so if you wanna see it, definitely leave a comment or an anon telling me you wanna see it.
...
The concept of butt-dailing was something that still mystified Gar. 
He understood why it was a thing in the 2000s, sure. A time when people’s phones still had tactile buttons on them, when you could sit on your phone in your back pocket and start pressing things by accident. But these days? Why was the term even still used? 
How can you call someone by accident? How can you have an entire phone conversation with someone by mistake? 
On that day, it hadn’t been Jason that called him - no, Gar was the one calling Jason. 
Gar hated to admit it, but he was fucking lonely. He had a soft heart and if he went too long without talking to his friends, without hearing their laughter, then he wilted like an unwatered plant. It wasn’t something that he ever said aloud, but it was something that was very easy to tell for the people who were closest to him. 
So Jason had taken to calling him on a regular basis. And ironically, because of it, the two had actually grown a lot closer in the Robin’s absence. 
Their friendship bloomed because of the long, late-night phone calls where Jason’s tired voice mumbled things to Gar as he fell asleep, admitting things about his past and the pain he sometimes felt that he never would have told anyone else. And they often spent hours on Discord calls as they kicked ass together playing COD or some other stupid game like Mount Your Friends. Even though on that day the Tower was practically empty, Gar found himself missing Jason the most. 
Ever since you had gone to Gotham to visit Jason, Gar’s other closest friend abandoning him, Gar had practically gone mad with loneliness. Rachel was off on a ‘girls trip’ with Donna, Dawn, and Kory, and Dick was attending some kind of ‘League’ business. Hank was leading a ‘be a better you’ sobriety seminar in another city, and Gar still found himself feeling like an outsider when hanging out with Rose and Jericho. 
So where did that leave him? 
Alone in his room, sprawled out on his bed. 
He had thumbed over Jason’s contact in his phone several times before he actually decided to put in his earbuds and give the guy a call. Surely his best friend wouldn’t consider him needy after the three hour long timestamps on their other calls. If Jason was busy, Gar could simply find something else to entertain himself. He could probably best his Resident Evil speedruns. Again. 
But selfishly, he was hoping Jason would pick up and talk to him for a while. Maybe you would be lounging around with Jason and he would get to talk to the both of you. That would be really nice. 
When the FaceTime call was answered on the other end, the screen was dark. Gar thought for a moment that Jason was just busy - that he was pressing his phone to his chest until he could get into another room to take the call. But for a few moments, all he heard was deep breathing, some grunting. The sound of Jason training? 
He was definitely inside Jason’s pocket. 
See, Jason hadn’t even noticed the incoming call. He had his phone on silent, and he had answered it completely by mistake. Turns out, the rapid, rhythmic thrusting of his hips had somehow successfully pressed the ‘answer’ button, even with the phone shoved deep in his back pocket. 
And Jason wasn’t really in a position to have a friendly, ‘let’s chat about COD’ video chat with his best friend. 
He was balls-deep inside of you. With his thick, hard cock out through the zipper of his pants with his phone still inside of his back pocket. He was thrusting into you where you were face down on his bed, on your knees exactly how he wanted you. 
It was a huge part of the reason you had come to visit him. The two of you had been fooling around for as long as you had known each other, and you couldn’t seem to go for very long without fucking the other person. It brought you both relief from your stressful vigilante lifestyle, and it was the best sex either of you ever had. Not that any of your friends knew that you had a ‘thing’ going on, of course. 
Gar was about to hang up the call, believing that he had caught Jason at a bad time and realizing that the guy didn’t even know his phone was on. But he froze completely still when he heard it. 
“Fuck, babe, take my cock.” Jason groaned, his voice absolutely thick with sex. “Fucking take it.” 
It was something that instantly made Gar tremble, made blood rush to his cock as he heard his friend’s voice in a way that he never had before. The sound was rough in his headphones, distant and not nearly as pure as it would have been in person. But it made Gar’s blood run hot in seconds, made him so turned on so quickly that he became dizzy. 
Gar’s hand itched to reach down and grip his cock through his pants, but he knew that he shouldn’t. He knew it was wrong. He should just hang up the call and hope that Jason never saw it in his call history. The longer he stayed there and listened, the more suspicious the timestamp would look in the call history if Jason ever saw it. 
But Gar was frozen in his tracks when he heard something that absolutely made his head spin. 
“Yes!” It was your voice. “Fuck, I fucking love your cock. I’m just a slutty little cocksleeve for you, Jay!” 
High pitched and needy, moaning out - it was you. You, screaming those entirely pornographic words, followed by a deep grunt from Jason. 
Gar let out a sharp breath. It hadn’t occurred to him who Jason might be fucking. Or that he was fucking someone at all, and that he wasn’t just alone, fucking his own hand. 
Gar almost couldn’t believe that this was happening. The two people that he had been attracted to for so long now, playing out an epic sex fantasy for his own ears. He knew that it was so horribly wrong, but he probably wouldn’t have hung up the call if someone had pointed a gun to his head. 
“Yeah, you are.” Jason replied, his voice slightly obscured from the phone being in his pocket. “You’re my perfect slut. Such a good fucktoy, aren’t you, Y/N?” 
Jason saying your name with such a deep, possessive need, paired with the way he spoke so confidentially - it forced Gar to imagine how long the two of you had been in a relationship like this. How long the two of you had been playing around behind everyone’s backs to know each other’s kinks so well without crossing any boundaries. Even with his brain so lust-clouded, his thoughts flashed through all of the times you and Jason had snuck off together, or made lame excuses to go to bed early when Jason had still been living at the Tower. 
Gar was upset that he hadn’t found out about this sooner. His brain conjured up a fantasy of him sneaking into Jason’s room late at night, and seeing you on your knees for his best friend. He easily imagined Jason inviting him to stay, telling Gar what a slut you were, how much you would love to have two guys at once. Him and Jason passing you around, your wetness making both of their cocks shine. If you were the ‘fucktoy’ that he claimed you to be, it probably wouldn’t be that far from reality. 
There was a wet, slapping sound - Jason fucking into you harder as you moaned and struggled for breath. 
Gar’s cock pulsed with need. 
Something in the back of his brain screamed that it was wrong and that he needed to hang up, but his cock screamed louder. So he untied the string of his pants with haste and racked them down over his aching balls. Just to be safe, he muted his end of the call so that Jason wouldn’t hear any noises he made. 
(If he had been thinking a bit clearer, he would have realized that any noise he made, especially echoing into Jason’s back pocket, would have simply gotten lost in the haze of sweat and sex that the two of you were making in Jason’s bedroom. But - better safe than sorry, right?) 
In his mind, muting the call seemed even more reasonable when he let out a deep moan the second he took his hard dick into his hand. More beautiful sounds from you and Jason came in through his headphones as he began to jerk himself off. 
“Fucking love how you take my cock, fucking love how this slutty pussy gets so wet for me.”
Jason’s dirty mouth continued as Gar’s hand started a steady rhythm. Gar was already leaking precum that easily slicked him up - he was absolutely dizzy at the sound of Jason’s sex-graveled voice. 
“Just a fucking hole for me to cum in.” Jason growled. “You love it, don’t you? You love being my fucking toy. My fucking cumdump.” 
The pure filth coming out of Jason’s mouth surprised Gar, just as much as his own reaction did. The way his dick jumped in his hand and his lungs released a moan, his tip leaking even more precum at the words. He had no fucking idea that you and Jason were so dirty, that you liked being… degraded so much. Because clearly you loved it, with the wailing moan that you echoed back in response. 
“I love it!” You told Jason, your tone desperate and breathy, worn with sex. “I love being your cumdump. I’m just a hole for you to use!” 
Gar tried to imagine what the two of you might look like in that moment. Were you on your back, your legs spread wide for Jason? Were you completely naked with your tits swaying with his every thrust? Were you on your hands and knees, ass out like a bitch in heat for Jason? 
Gar pumped his cock faster at the thought, his precum making it sound absolutely slick, unrestrained grunts coming from his parted lips as he continued to listen you and Jason fuck. He would feel guilty for this later, but right now, he was absolutely dizzy with lust and needed to hear more. 
“You gonna cum on my cock, slut?” Jason’s voice was sharp, demanding. 
It sounded like Jason was holding back the urge to cum himself and he needed you to get there first. There was a sharp sound - skin hitting skin, higher in pitch and less muffled than the constant pounding of Jason into your cunt. Jason had spanked you. Gar’s orgasm swelled in his belly as he imagined Jason’s hand coming down against your skin, making the fat of your ass bounce or - fuck, Jason’s hand blooming against your wet clit. (Gar hated that he would never know which it actually was.) 
“Be a good girl. Cum for me.” Jason demanded, throat strangling his voice as he drowned in his own arousal. 
And just like that, you dissolved into a fury of sounds. Gar caught you chanting ‘I’m a hole! I’m a hole! I’m a hole!’ as though it was the only thing on your mind, increasing in volume as your orgasm overtook you, but it was muffled after a moment and Gar heard Jason grunt the words ‘shut up’ in the most sharp, dangerous voice he had ever heard from his best friend. 
Gar’s mind was immediately struck with the picture of Jason’s hand on the back of your head, shoving you into the bed to quiet your whorish moaning, and this was what sent him over the edge. His stomach curled so hard that it practically made him nauseous, his body drawing up off the bed as he pumped his cock hard and fast. He pumped himself dry as cum splashed up over his (thankfully) naked stomach and dirtied him in hot, white waves. 
Gar’s body was still trembling when he heard Jason rattle out a shuddering moan, a sure sign that he was cumming too. 
Gar should have rushed to end the call. 
But it seemed impossible to move at this point - his bones were practically made out of jelly from the intensity of his orgasm. The hand holding the phone had dropped it against his chest, the sound still coming in clear from his earbuds. He was desperate to catch his breath, and his cum still warm against his stomach when he heard it. 
There was a shifting, a rustling sound - fuck, Jason was taking his phone out of his pocket. 
Gar panicked. 
But his orgasm had been so spectacular that it had knocked all the sense out of him, including his usually good reflexes, so he was slow to pick his phone back up. When he did, his heart jumped in his chest when he found Jason staring at him, wearing a wide smirk. 
In the time it had taken Gar to recover, Jason had taken his phone out - with the original purpose to check the time. Alfred always had a very specific time for dinner, and always became cranky if anyone was late. Jason certainly didn’t need anyone to come looking for you and him, seeing the compromising position that you found yourselves in. 
Jason was surprised when he found the call with Gar going. And once he had checked the timestamp on the still ongoing call, he immediately knew what had happened. 
“Did you enjoy the show?” Jason said, his voice slightly rough from the sex, but entirely confident, unshaken. 
“Uh - I - I -” Gar stuttered. 
When Jason saw his lips moving and didn’t hear any sound, he quickly spoke up. 
“Unmute the call, dickhead.” Jason told him, giving a small chuckle with the offensive, affectionate nickname. 
Right. Gar had muted it to participate in his perverted voyeurism. 
As Gar reached up to find the button, he realized his hand was still covered in cum. 
Jason licked his lips as he saw substance smeared all over Gar’s palm and saw his friend reaching for tissues off to the side. As Gar raced to clean off his hand, you appeared behind Jason’s shoulder in the frame of the call. You were wearing a bra, your skin slightly slicked with sweat and tear tracks coming off the side of your eyes - clearly from pleasure and not from pain. 
“You had Gar on a FaceTime call?” Your tone was a breathy giggle, clearly not at all upset at the idea that your friend had been listening in on you being fucked and called degrading names. “Kinky. Did you call him while you were putting the condom on?” 
Gar unmuted the call with his now clean(er) hand, but waited in silence for you and Jason to finish your conversation. He was surprised that you didn’t seem to care; that you seemed to think it was some kind of pre-planned kink that Jason had executed. Gar’s stomach twisted at the thought of it, that you and Jason had discussed inviting another person into your sex life and you were more than okay with it being Gar. 
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Jason told you. “Go get cleaned up for dinner.” 
You simply nodded, and leaned in to give Jason a kiss - a soft, gentle sight that was entirely arousing in contrast to the rough, filthy sex that Gar knew the two of you just had. It was even more arousing when you walked out of frame and Gar heard another spank to your bare skin (clearly you weren’t wearing bottoms) - and heard you let out a delighted squeak in response. 
“Look, I can explain-” Gar began his groveling, but Jason quickly cut him off. 
“Quiet.” Jason said, his tone taking on a kind of authority that made Gar’s stomach jump. “Next time this happens, we get to watch you cum, or you don’t get to cum at all. Got it?” 
Gar’s cock was quickly filling with blood again at Jason speaking to him this way, so boldly, making sexual demands over his body. His mouth was dry and lost for words so he simply nodded in response. He opened his mouth to attempt to speak - to apologize, to ask for clarity, to ask Jason when ‘the next time’ would be. 
But now that Jason had Gar’s simple affirmation, he hung up the call. 
Gar - unable to help himself - stretched an arm out and took a picture of his half hard cock and his shirtless body, still covered in his cum. He hesitated to send it, though. After a long mental debate in the shower, it came back to his phone sitting on his nightstand, and sent it to Jason with a caption that read ‘I really did enjoy the show’. 
It pinged Jason’s phone when he was sitting at the dinner table with you and Bruce. And as he looked at it under the table, he choked on his peas.
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Love You Like That
Part 7 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Description: The months following Jake's injuries during his deployment have been anything but easy. You have hope, however, that the two of you are strong enough to overcome all of the trials and tribulations that you encounter. After nearly losing Jake, it's the least you can do, right? Wrong. Especially when your boyfriend himself can't seem to understand just how difficult these past few months have been for you. Will he ever be able to understand your point of view? Or is this how you lose him - for good?
Disclaimers: Mentions of Injury, Arguments, Alcohol, Drunken talk, Smut
Warning: Female Reader
Word Count: 3670
Author Note: Here's part 7 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car). This chapter was my first time attempting to write an argument and I hope I did it justice. This is the third of the truly angsty chapters I have planned for this series. I hope you like it.
This chapter is inspired by Dagny's Love You Like That. I highly suggest you listen to the song while you read.
I also have about a million thanks for the lovely @desert-fern (@ferns-fics) for beta-reading this for me! Also! Look at my new watermark! @cassiemitchell made it for me and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!
AO3: Cross-posted Here!
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"What do you mean you're going back to work in three weeks?" Your voice sounds incredulous and pained.
"I mean, I'm going back to work in three weeks." Jake sounds infuriated with you, and a part of you understands why - this is the fourth time you’re having the same discussion.
He doesn't seem to understand how your world had imploded in seconds when you'd found out he'd been hurt. Jake had been in a coma for three weeks! He'd been so severely injured that you weren't sure at times if he'd ever recover from the trauma. You still wake up in the middle of the night with nightmares. Sometimes it's still the same nightmare you had in the hospital. But more and more it's you waking up to find Jake cold and clammy in the bed next to you.
All the while Jake slumbers peacefully next to you. He doesn’t seem to understand the emotional toll his near loss has had on you. Maybe that’s partially your fault. You’ve hidden your exhaustion from him, resolving to be his rock. So instead you drive him to each doctor's appointment and every physical therapy appointment, masking your worry by showing your love for him in every way you can.
"I don't get you at all. Why can't you understand?" Jake's glaring at you, thin and pale standing across the island in your kitchen. His eyes are molten emerald, glinting dangerously in the warm lights.
"Why can't you understand?!" Heat crawls its way up your throat, uncomfortably prickling behind your eyes.
"You nearly died, Jake." You can't help how your voice breaks as you say that word.
"And?" He can't sound so matter of fact about this - like it is an everyday occurrence. Maybe it is - for him - but it's not for you. When you can't get your dry throat to cooperate, he continues.
"This is what you signed up for. I'm a Naval Aviator." He's breathing raggedly before he spits out, "Or did you forget that over the months we were apart? Did you forget that you'll never be my first priority? The Navy comes first. Flying comes first."
You feel like a marionette with all of its strings cut at his words. You can't believe this is Jake, your Jake, saying the words - the man you love, who claims to love you. You've made him your top priority since he's been injured. You haven't even seen Callie since the squadron got back. Jake has been your only focus. His words also send rage flowing through your veins.
"So that's how this works, right? It's perfectly alright for me to make sacrifices, to drive you everywhere, do everything for you when you're hurt, but you can't even hear me out?" A tear drips down your cheek as you look up at Jake. "I just want you to listen to me. To hear my fears, my worries and tell me that everything will be okay."
"But I guess that is an ephemeral hope. I'm not your first priority right? That's the Navy isn't it? What happened to, 'I'm looking for forever with you, gorgeous'?" You don't know when you moved around the island to face him, but you've got one finger pointed at his sternum. "I guess I'm just another fuck for you then. So what then? Why are you even here?"
You can physically see the regret in Jake's eyes as he tries to reach for you. But you slap his hands away before he can get close. Your rage is taking the wheel now.
"Why aren't you back on base? Go back to killing yourself with workouts before you're ready. Go back to having a multi-million dollar missile strapped to your ass going faster than the speed of sound." You ignore the pain in his eyes or how he gapes at you for your words. Then the anger takes over his face. His jaw tightens and his eyes glare even more.
"You want me back on base, gorgeous?" You can't help the way your fingers reach out to him as he whirls away, striding away as fast as he can.
"You got what you wanted then. I thought you knew what I wanted. I thought we were in this until the end. I saw myself growing old with you. So why? Why can't you just listen to me?" Jake's out of breath, his shoulder moving jerkily, protesting his movements, as you follow listlessly behind him as he jams his feet into a pair of sneakers and shrugs on a jacket.
You can't breathe. Each word cuts so deep that you're half sure that when you look down you'll see blood pouring out of you. But you're left standing in the yawning doorway as Jake gets into his truck and drives away. Every sound is muffled. Once again you feel adrift, tossed aside like you don't matter. There's no way Jake thinks so little of you. There's no way.
You're not sure how long you stand there, your heart bleeding as it sits perched in your hands. What did you do? Months of fostering an epic love and it's really that easy to forget? To forget all of the best parts of Jake? Jake makes you feel like no other man in the room. You can talk about anything and everything with him. And his eyes? They make you melt like ice-cream on the sunniest summer day.
Please, you beg yourself. Please, let cooler heads prevail. Please let Jake have just gone for a drive around the block. Please let him come home. But as the hours pass and the sun sets out the kitchen window, your unease grows. You’ve taken to keeping your phone barely a finger’s breadth away from you, praying that he’ll call. Your mind keeps running around in circles, the worry and fear preying on your every thought. When your phone rings from the coffee table, you nearly sprint to it, even when you're barely a foot away.
"Hello?" It's a number you don't recognize.
"Is this Gorgeous?" It's a male voice, deep.
"Yeah." You clutch the phone tighter to your ear.
"I've got a Jake Seresin here. You're the top number in his contacts. Can you come pick him up?” You scramble for a piece of paper.
“Yeah, I can come get him. Where is he?” Your voice is tight with worry as you listen intently to the address spilling down the line to you. When you put the address into your phone, it’s to a small bar halfway across the city. Out in the driveway, your car is the only one in its spot - meaning that Jake drove his truck there. You sit in complete silence during the entire cab ride to the bar.
It’s a seedy little joint, trapped between an alley and a strip club. The one, lone street light in the parking lot flickers with a dim, dirty yellow light. There aren't many cars in the parking lot, but you could pick Jake's pickup truck out on sight any day. The bar falls silent when you walk through the doors. The air stinks of unwashed flesh and spilled beer. A smoky haze lays over the entire building as you make a single-minded path to the bar counter. You try desperately to avoid thinking about where you’re stepping, what you’re stepping in, as you crane your neck looking for Jake.
It takes you a bit to find him, slumped as he is against a wall staring listlessly into the glass in front of him. The glass itself is chipped and clouded, but it’s no less cloudy than Jake’s expression. You walk forward, your movements hesitant and unsure but Jake doesn't look up until your sneakered feet are in his line of sight.
"What do you want?" You've never heard Jake like this. It's a tone that's all anger and spite as he downs the mouthful of amber liquid at the bottom before plunking the glass down on the bartop with a harsh thud.
"The bartender called. I'm still at the top of your emergency call list, Jay." You carefully cradle his face in your hands, tipping it up so you can see just how drunk Jake is.
"Huh." Every word sends whiskeyed breath into your face. "You're not m'gorgeous. Let go'a me. My gorgeous girl is home waitin' for me." He slaps your hands away as you try to get him to recognize you. You pay his tab before collecting his credit card and pocketing his phone. By the time you're back to Jake, he's quieted. You sit on a nearby barstool to wait. You have to sober him up, so first, you flag down the bartender.
"Can you switch him to water please? And keep it coming?" Your smile is forced when he hands Jake a tumblr full of water. You settle down to watch eagle eyed for the next hour as Jake steadily downs glass after glass of water. When he starts listing in the seat, this time because of sleep, you finally intervene.
Your sigh is soft and sad as you drag his arm around his shoulder. "C'mon cowboy. Let's get you home, yeah?"
Jake's mostly compliant, if uncoordinated as he drapes himself across your back. He's a far cry from his usual muscular self, in part due to lost muscle tone from his stint in the hospital, and you can feel every inch of his lighter weight draped over you as you stagger your way out to his pickup truck.
It takes you far longer than you care to think about to get Jake buckled into the passenger seat. His cheeks are flushed as his green eyes track your every movement slowly.
"Where're you takin' me?" His voice is all Texan drawl as you start the truck up.
"I'm taking you home, Cowboy." He doesn't seem to recognise you any better now than he did earlier.
"But y'dont know where I live. And I'm not goin' home with you. I only go home with my darling girl." You can't help your fond sigh as you drive carefully home. Even drunk and in the middle of the worst - and only, thus far - argument of your relationship, Jake's still loyal to you.
You're silent as you carefully drive home. Jake keeps up a token protest, grumbling under his breath as he sits in the passenger seat with his face smashed against the glass. When you pull the truck into the driveway and turn it off, it's to the sight of him snoring brokenly against the glass.
It's late, well past midnight and Jake's entire body is still recovering. He hurts just napping on your overstuffed sofa nowadays. So you carefully wake him up and help him stagger through your house. A couple of glasses of water more and you have a nearly sober, awake boyfriend to handle.
It's as you're gently tugging a fresh t-shirt over his head that Jake finally speaks again.
"Why'd you come get me, huh, Gorgeous?" You carefully cradle his head, fingers gentle as they trace over the still tender scars under his hair.
"Why wouldn't I, Jay?" His hands find your waist, sliding under your shirt to map out your skin.
"There wasn't ever a doubt that I'd come find you." You kiss his hair, pulling him in closer.
"Why?" You've never heard Jake sound so lost.
"Because I love you. One fight could never change that. I was so angry at you that I let my mouth get away with me. I'd do anything for you. I'd do everything for you." Your voice is hushed, choked by the tears you're valiantly trying to keep at bay.
"If you love me, then why can't you understand? Flying -" he clears his throat before saying the words, "flying is everything to me. I don't know who I am if I'm not a naval aviator."
"I never asked you to stop flying, Jake. I just." You take in a deep breath, trying and failing to corral all of your warring emotions. "I guess I just want you to be safe. To take a bit more time to heal before you head back up there. You’re my everything, Jay. When I got that call in the middle of the night saying you’d been hurt it felt like my world had rocked off of its axis. I was lost.”
Your sniffle is soft as Jake tugs you even closer. “A-and I hate fighting with you Jay. I know this is our first one, but I already hate it.”
Your breathing is ragged as you card your fingers through Jake’s soft short hair. “I just don’t want to lose you. Lose what we have. I want at least 40 years with you, you know? It’s non-negotiable.”
“My flying, baby doll? It isn’t going to change that. I promise.” His words should fill you with relief, but instead, all you’re filled with is more worry.
“You can’t promise that, Jake. You just can’t.” You pull away from him, looking out the big bay window in your bedroom with your back to the man who holds your entire heart. Jake’s thin and worn, his reflection and the light over emphasizing the bags under his eyes.
“Baby Doll -” You can’t even look at him right now. Your stomach is flip-flopping unpleasantly, all of your emotions clogging your throat and muffling your voice. You don’t think you can even look at his reflection without crying. Not tonight, not right now. You startle at the feeling of Jake’s hands on your skin. It’s something you’ve never done before. You’re just so on edge tonight that you feel like even your skin doesn’t fit right on your body. But Jake’s arms? Your body knows, no matter how tense your mind is or how wrapped up it is in your thoughts, that you belong there. You slump against his chest, turning in his arms until your ear is to his heart and your hands are flat against the warm skin of his back.
“Baby Doll?” Jake sounds so tired, even as his arms curl tighter around your frame. Each breath he takes sounds like the sweetest music you’ve ever heard.
“Jay?” Your voice is a barely suppressed sob.
“You scared me so badly.” Your sniffle is wet as you nuzzle further into his chest as you tell him exactly what he means to you.
“You’re so deeply entrenched in my life, Jay. You’re my heart. My whole soul. It’s only been a little more than a year since we met and I don’t even know what it means to not love you. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. How?” You’re struggling to breath, your lungs not computing the oxygen entering them.
“How could I possibly let you go when it feels like I’ve just found you?” Your fingers grip tighter to his skin. You’re sure you’re hurting him but he never complains and just clutches you closer, his hand cupping the back of your head as you wet his t-shirt with your tears.
“You’re not letting go, Baby Doll. I’m not letting go of you either.” His voice is just as choked up as yours is.
“You’re just as deep under my skin, gorgeous. I wish I could tell you that I’ll be safer, that I’ll do better. But you were right, earlier. It’s not fair for me to expect you to make all of the sacrifices. It’s about time I made some too. Can you look at me, sweetheart? Please?” His hands are gentle, feather-light as they tip your chin up until your teary eyes meet his own.
“Tell me the word, sweetheart. And I’ll do it. I’ll quit the Navy. My contract’s up in a few months anyways. I’ll apply for desk duty until it’s up. For you, I can remake myself. Just say the word.”
“How could I ask you to do that? Wasn’t it your dream to fly?” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Your eyes are wide as you gaze up at Jake.
“Baby doll, my dreams changed the minute I met you. You.” His hands rise to brush the tears from your face. “You’re my new dream. Forever and always. And this dream? It’s one I’m going to keep alive for as long as I still have breath in my lungs. My heart? It’s yours. So is my life. The decision, my gorgeous girl, is yours.” Your gasp is soft, but the way you smash your lips to Jake’s is anything but.
You pour your entire heart into the kisses you give Jake, breathing out your love against his cheeks, lips, and neck as you push him back towards the bed. Jake goes willingly, letting you strip the shirt off before settling yourself lightly in his lap.
“What’s this for, huh, baby?” His hands slide under your shirt easily, gripping the soft skin at your waist like they were made to be there.
“I love you, Jake. Do I need a reason to show you how much?” Your smile is soft and slightly mischievous as you ghost your lips gently against his.
“Not as far as I’m concerned, pretty girl.” The look in his eyes sends heat shooting through you as you capture his mouth again.
His tongue is wet against yours, plundering your mouth as he takes back control. His hands feel like brands over your skin as they drag you even closer. You're so wholly occupied by Jake that you barely notice your shirt landing on the floor or how your bra joins it seconds later. The next thing you feel is Jake's lips wrapping around your peaked nipples. Your resulting moan is high pitched and breathy.
Even when you're on top of him he drives you wild. In no time at all he has you writhing on top of him, completely bare. Your cunt is so wet that it's soaking a wet spot into his jeans. Jeans that you need off. It's been far too long since you've had Jake. Between his exhaustion and your own, and his recovery, all physical intimacy went out of the window months ago.
But now? You need him like you need air to breathe. His cock is already drooling precum as you work it over. When his head tips back, you take the opportunity to mark up the golden column of Jake's throat, pulling back only when there's a bruise blossoming against his throat.
"God, pretty girl. What're you trying to do, huh? Kill me?" Your resulting squeak is embarrassingly high-pitched as he manhandles you until you're ass up on the bed. "Or d'you want me so bad that you'd do anything to get my attention?"
You'd accuse Jake of being cruel if his hands weren't so tender against your fever-hot skin, your arousal so potent that it's practically emanating off of you in waves. The first press of his cock into you has you nearly sobbing in relief.
"Mmm." Jake's voice is a guttural growl against your shoulder as he pulls you in against your back is to his chest.
"My pretty girl. So wet and ready for me. Feels like forever since I've had this pretty pussy. Is it still mine, baby?" Jake's voice is all sex and smoke in your ear as his cock fills you up in a way no other ever has.
"It's yours, Jay." Your moans fill the bedroom as he fucks so slowly and deliberately into you that you can feel every inch of him in your throbbing, sopping wet core. "Always yours."
Your mind is already foggy. Jake's making you lose your thoughts, trapping your tongue with the constant, relentless onslaught of his cock as it hits your sweet spot every time with unerring precision. He already has you babbling, droplets of sweat dripping down your temples as the temperature in the room ratchets up. All you can think of, all you want to think of is Jake. He's your everything.
The way he's rutting into you feels like a brand burning into your skin. He's ruined you for all other men. Not that you'd ever think of ever letting anyone else into your heart. A part of you loves the thought. That you're Jake's and that he's yours. That same part of you longs for a marker, something to show to the world that he's yours. But for now, you can wait.
Honestly, you want something else just a bit more now, and that is to cum. With Jake, because of Jake. The pleasure that's been making you tongue-tied and cock-drunk, dumb except for the thought of Jake has been rapidly tightening the band in your gut. You want to cum, no, you need to. But you don't not until Jake's hands find your breast and your clit, rolling your nipple and rubbing harshly at your clit. That's the final straw. You cum hard, harder than you have in a long time, the pleasure making you see stars and fogging up your vision.
You come back to yourself draped over Jake's chest.
"Jay?" Your voice is rough as you murmur his name.
"Yeah, gorgeous?" He sounds half asleep as his big hand cups your bare ass.
"I don't want you to quit the Navy. I'm going to be an Admiral's wife one day, you know?" You grin into his skin as he squeezes your ass.
"An Admiral's wife, huh?" You can feel his smirk as he kisses the top of your head.
"You bet. I can't wait for us to be introduced to everyone as Admiral and Mrs. Seresin." You're smiling from ear to ear as you kiss Jake this time. It's an uncoordinated, sloppy, messy kiss, too much teeth and tongue but you love it anyways.
"I love you, my gorgeous girl." You can't help your smile as you fall asleep in his arms. Admiral and Mrs. Seresin. You're sure there isn't a sweeter title that you could ever hold.
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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
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Taglist:
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idyllic-affections · 9 months
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i love “a winter nights lazzo” that you just posted!!! now all i’m thinking about is childe being kind and caring towards the kid the second they get to liyue. and the kid immediately figures out where his money is going when he gets them nice weapons/meals and gets them quality clothes suitable for liyue (and potentially other regions if they wish to go).
summary. a general expansion on what childe's relationship with pantalone's kid is like.
trigger & content warnings. mentions of childe (accidentially) injuring reader.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, found family-ish. childe & pantalone's child!reader. 0.3k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next
author's thoughts. REAL!!!! i don't usually write for childe, since i'm still working on getting his personality right, but these are just some of the thoughts i've had about him and pantalone's child.
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among the harbingers, it is a well known fact that childe absolutely spoils [name] (as if their own father doesn't do that enough...). he is the closest in age to them and tends to view them as if they were another sibling of his, so it's no wonder that he's so... doting.
i like to think childe is an impulse spender tbh, especially when they arrive in liyue. he pays close attention to the little things they mention. he listens and remembers. if they express interest in something, he'll absolutely get it for them, even though they are capable of paying for themselves.
he def gets them cool weapons idc!!! should he be giving a 16 year old this really dangerous sword? no, probably not, but it's fine!!!!! he spars with them on a regular basis anyways!!! he knows what they can and can't handle!!!!!!! actually, childe was forbidden from sparring with them after he accidentially hurt them one time. he got his pay cut in half that month as a consequence... now arlecchino is the only one allowed to physically train them, but still!! childe does pay attention to their physical state. he swears he knows what they can and can't handle.
(childe also encourages them to take on weapons they aren't good with. i personally think they have a weak upper body, so things like claymores, bows... yeah. they refuse to work with claymores, but admit that knowing how to use a bow might be useful. childe isn't allowed to teach them, but he is thrilled nonetheless.)
he totally does get them really high quality clothes made only from the finest silk flowers. of course, he also gets them clothes that have good functionality. they can't really say they mind this, because... i mean. they are a debt collector. they need clothes with good functionality.
he's also rather fascinated by their ability to use pyro without a vision. he knows someone else like that... he doesn't dare compare them to the traveler, though; childe knows that they'd be pissed if he so much as implied that they're anything like the vile one responsible for their mother figure's death.
overall he's just a pretty kind, doting brother figure that treats [name] like a normal-ish kid, and honestly?
i think they'd appreciate that a lot.
please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!
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parkitaco · 1 year
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ok people. i really don't want to have to be saying this but i am once again being struck by the lack of etiquette in the byler fandom and just in current fandom in general so i just. have to say something ok
first off i'm gonna say that fandoms come from a place of love and i know everyone most people have good intentions and love their fic authors but the etiquette around fics and art and all that lovely stuff is,, how shall we put it,, literally nonexistent.
listen. i love writing fic. i love that people like reading my fics that's insane hello?? i love getting comments and kudos and getting messages from ppl who are excited about my future projects it's great!!!
that being said, when i receive messages asking when things will be out/comments on wip wednesday snippets asking if the fic is out yet/messages asking me to tag them when the fic is published, regardless of how good the intentions are it comes off as very demanding and doesn't make me feel good as a writer who is doing this Voluntarily and For Free.
fanfic writers do this for fun!! we are not machines, we are people with our own lives outside of fandom and those lives have to take priority most if not all of the time. this means that yes!! sometimes fics take a while to write!! sometimes chaptered fics take a while to update!! and guess what?? that is totally ok. fanfic writers taking their time is not a bad thing. it means they care and are taking their time to create quality content. it means that they are spending time tending to their real personal lives, which is a normal and healthy thing to do.
there are plenty of posts about why demanding faster updates is bad, and i think that's pretty common knowledge, but i want to talk specifically about these very enthusiastic comments/messages/etc because i don't think anyone means harm but the thing is that fic authors simply do not owe you anything. we don't owe it to you to let you know when a fic will be out, we don't owe it to you to tag you when it is, and we definitely don't owe it to you to provide information that you can easily find out for yourself. as a writer i'm already putting insane amounts of pressure on myself and receiving it from other people, even if that's not the intention, is just not a good feeling.
especially because much of this information is readily available to you!! while you may not be able to find out when a fic will be out (which is probably because the fic author doesn't know either), you are entirely capable of checking the timestamp on a post to see how old it was, then using a little thing called Critical Thinking Skills to determine whether it's likely the fic has been posted or not. if so then great!! most authors have their ao3 accounts linked somewhere on their blog page so YOU (yes, you!!) can go look for the fic on ao3!! if you don't find it, ao3 has a super cool feature where you can subscribe to an author, so you'll get an email notification whenever they post!! and while you're there, if you're truly desperate for something to read, you can always go through the fics they've already posted, and if you've read everything there already and/or they haven't posted anything yet, check their bookmarks and see if there's anything there you like!! and as a last resort, there's always the trusty old search bar on ao3, which you are capable of filtering to every last preference!! the byler fandom is huge and there are tons of fics out there so undoubtedly something will fit your taste.
i know that can feel daunting, and i know it's disappointing when a fic hasn't been posted or updated yet, but the good news is that if you're seeing a snippet it means the author is working on it!! a little patience never hurt anyone, and taking those steps to determine for yourself what's going on with the fic rather than bugging an author who is just trying to go about their life and work on content during whatever free time they have just proves that you care. the simple fact of the matter is that fic authors don't do this for attention, they do it for fun, and therefore we can't cater everything to you or answer questions that you should find the answers to yourself. it's not our responsibility to keep track of people who want to be tagged when a fic is published or want to know when it will be out, because all our energy is going into creating the content you so desperately want!! i'm just begging everyone to be a little bit independent. asking an author for this information just shows you don't care enough to find it for yourself and this sort of laziness is part of why fandoms die.
tldr: fic authors are not machines designed to please you, use some critical thinking once in a while, and please for the love of GOD just go touch grass. breathe some clean air. you'll feel better i promise
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cryptidghostgirl · 1 month
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Heyy :)))
any writing tips for beginners?
First off, can I just say, it is genuinely such an honor to get asked this question? It makes me so happy.
The biggest thing I would recommend for beginners is just to write. The more you write, the more used to it you get. I know that doesn't sound like very productive advice, but it is the truth. I have been writing fics since I was twelve and I am twenty one now. My first fics were shit. One of my earliest ones (its a BSD Akutagawa x Reader fic called Project X I started when the show first came out back in 2016 and finished in 2022 that is still up on my wattpad, which is linked in my pinned post, if you want proof I am not lying) is genuine shit, but I put a lot of passion and a lot of time into it (to the point that if you read the book, you watch me learn how to write). It was the practice and time spent that did the trick. So write and write and write. You don't have to post it anywhere or show it to anyone until you feel like you are ready (or at all). The more you do it, the more everything will fall into place.
The second thing I would recommend is to write the stories that you want to read, whether fanfiction or not. You have to be invested in whatever you're making in order for it to work. If you don't care, you wont put the effort in. You wont take the time for it. The only reason I started writing in the first place was because I would read fic after fic and I never saw anyone else putting the ideas I had on to paper (this actually lead to me starting a mini trend in the BSD fic community on wattpad lol). This will also help, if you are putting your work out into the world in some way, with the idea of reward. Whether through notes or readers or whatever, as long as you like what you are writing and you want to read what you are making, it is worth it and it is enough.
Third is to read. One of the ways I developed my own writing style was by taking note of the things I liked about other peoples writing styles (doesn't matter whom. I take a lot of the way I write from poets and authors like Annie Dillard and Terry Pratchett as well as other fic writers). So much of writing is about aesthetics and personal preference. Once I knew what I defined as 'good writing,' I could figure out how to morph my own work into something I deemed 'good.' This also counts for reading the things you yourself have written. I go back and re-read and edit my own work all the fucking time, both out of an enjoyment for the stories I create and in an effort to make them better. The best thing you can do is to read your work out loud. Listen to what you change when you read it out loud, what sounds odd or uncomfortable, where there are gaps. It really helped me when I first started writing fics almost ten years ago, and it still helps me now.
This is a weird one, but when you're writing about emotions, try to feel the emotion yourself. Think about what something like fear does to a person. Picture the situation you are writing and take the time to think about the ways in which you personally, or your character, would react to it. Writing reactions, body movements, things like that, has always been the most difficult for me, especially when its in-between dialogue and not just big blocks of text. Taking a moment and closing my eyes, feeling the shiver down my spine or the burst of sudden joy, really helps pin down the ideas and figure out how to describe them.
Also, if you know other languages, think about the things you like about the way those function and how you can incorporate that into your work. A lot of the way I structure sentences comes from ancient Greek, for example, with my usage of participles and timing. It doesn't have to be an ancient language though! And it doesn't even really have to be another language. All that matters is that you are actively thinking about the way the words interact with one another and what is pleasing to you. English is such a flexible and fun thing, there is so much meaning in every word and if you want to, it can be really fun to play around with. (I am a philologist. I am sorry for the little rant.)
That being said, it is important that you understand the grammar of the language you are writing in. This might just be a personal thing, but incorrect grammar tends to really bug me. Once you know the rules, they are easier to follow and it makes a huge difference. Also, incorporating techniques like varied sentence length/structure and literary devices like metaphor, allusion, ekphrasis, and simile can really make a piece more enjoyable for a perspective reader (whether the reader is yourself or someone else.)
Write what you know, write what you love, write what you want, write what you need, write. Don't worry about it being 'good enough,' if it is on the paper it is good enough. The hardest part is starting. Once you've got that under your belt, anything is possible.
Now that this post is almost excessively long, I am gonna make myself stop. I really hope at least some of this made sense and that you find it helpful.
<3 <3
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cloudinterlude · 1 year
Text
There's a certain tone that bleeds into a lot of MCU fanfiction when talking about Steve's defrosting into the new century and it's bothersome. It's like people don't fully understand why he didn't have to be grateful for being in modern times. There's a serious lack of empathy and it always ends up with some other character ranting to Steve about how he needs to suck it up and move on if he wants to get anywhere in life and somehow that motivates Steve to...realize he was the only one being an asshole and learning to love the current world?
Yeah no.
I've read one (1) - and isn't to say other stories I like got it wrong bc I've certainly read others that are also great - but I've read ONE fanfiction that describes Steve's situation perfectly (in such a meaningful way) and it literally blew my mind when I read it because it was so good to ME.
"Ain't no Grave" by spitandvinegar was amazing. Mind you, I'm not a really Stucky shipper in any capacity (like I see the vision but don't feel it yknow?), but I'm a sucker for satisfying Steve characterization so I inhaled this fic. And y'all...this author did his character justice. It's not even a Steve-centric story! Which made me even more amazed (that the author got him so right) and even more annoyed (that so many people get him so wrong and end up bashing him). I quote the paragraph below but I urge you to read the fic if you're interested!
Like listen, listen. Imagine you live in this country, right? And there's a brutal war, and you witness and maybe participate in a horrific amount of violence, and you lose absolutely everyone you care about. Then you end up in this other country, where the culture and ways of doing things are completely foreign to you, and random assholes make fun of you for how you dress and act and talk while you're still coming to grips with the fact that everyone you love is gone and you can never go home again. Meanwhile, everyone around you is like "smile, motherfucker, you're in the Land of Plenty now, where there's a Starbucks on every corner and 500 channels on TV. You should be grateful! Why aren't you acting more grateful?" So you have to pretend to be grateful while you're dying inside. Sound like an traumatized, orphaned refugee? Also sounds like Steve fucking Rogers, Captain Goddamn America. Except that most refugees were part of a community of other people who were going through the same thing. Steve is all alone, the last damn unicorn, if the last unicorn had horrible screaming nightmares about the time when it helped to liberate Buchenwald.
AMAZING RIGHT? It was very satisfying to read the first time around. Even more satisfying that this was coming from Sam's POV which was just a lovely decision.
Anyways!
This little rant isn't even coming from a place of superiority. I know characterization can be difficult, and it's not so much about the quality rather than the fundamental misunderstanding of Steve's character that makes it obvious that either the author doesn't care enough to try to empathize with him, 2) They're using Steve to prop up some other character or 3) They watched his trilogy with their eyes closed and called it a day.
This post has gotten too long so thats all I'll say for now!
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