#I don’t want to feel like this anymore not every day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tojiscursedtool · 3 days

Note

Requesting headcanons for Jujutsu High Teacher Male!Reader being in a "Colleagues With Benefits" relationship with hung!Gojo.

R doesn't like Gojo (but Gojo's friendly with him), but he loves sucking on Gojo's big fat cock, and Gojo loves how well R can handle it with such skill & ease.

🏮| ° .• Satoru H/Cs . ‹𝟹 ` ֶָ֢

Note ~ thank you so much for the request I really hope this is to your liking, thank you for explaining the details in DMS too!!（╹◡╹）♡.. I’m really sorry though if you do not like this or if it’s not to your liking!

MENTIONS — Male!Reader, Teasing, Face Fucking, Blowjobs/Handjobs in public, harsh/aggressive face fucking, praising from gojo, spit/saliva, photo/video taking while sucking him off, making out as you stroke him off.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

— Hung!Gojo who would force you to completely take his cock down your throat with a tight ass grip on your hair just to feel your warm hot mouth around his cock.

— Hung!Gojo who knows you don’t like him but proceeds to tell you how much he likes you and how cute you look when you suck his massively big cock.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this..so pretty f’me. So perfect.” He’d probably say corny shit too but he really does mean it, he finds you so cute and pretty even when you give him that mean glare when sucking his dick. He knows you like it when he fucks the back of your throat, it’s feel good to you but you’d never admit that to HIM.

— Hung!Gojo who praises you for any little thing you do while sucking his cock, especially wrapping your long tongue around his shaft, he’s never really had anyone who could really suck his dick properly. They’d complain saying ‘it’s too big’ or that ‘I can’t take it!!’ But you were a different story, you could take his cock in your throat with ease.

“F—fuck. Good boy..keep goin’. Doin’ so well f’me..such a perfect hole to fuck.” He grunted out as he pushed your head down onto his cock, you looked up at his messed up face with that cold neutral stare you gave him everyday. You liked getting those reactions out of him though, especially when you used your long tongue to lick and swirl all around his shaft he couldn’t help but slam his hips pounding his cock into your mouth.

— Hung!Gojo who loves how skilled you are when taking his huge cock, even when he’s rough with you. You take it like a fuckin’ champ and he loves every minute with you, especially when you’re able to swallow all of his cum. Gojo knows that when he comes it’s a lot more than the average person and his cocky ass is obviously going to be proud of that.

— Hung!Gojo who whimpers and whines when you tease his cock by kissing the tip and purposely avoiding eye contact with him. He hates when you tease him he loves when you completely take him in your mouth. you know how much he loves eye contact and it drives him crazy. You dislike him so much but yet you use your mouth to please him..sometimes you wanted to be mean and make him beg until he couldn’t take it anymore:

“P—please. Baby..ah. Stop teasin’..ya’know how much I hate it..please?” He begged in a whining tone leaning towards you a little trying to look you in the eye to keep eye contact but you purposely avoided his gaze. Your hands barely stroking him just lightly rubbing it, you could feel his cock twitch and throb in your hand. You continued to barely suck his big cock, just kissing and licking the tip.. he was little our little whimpers you didn’t even know a man like him could make. You didn’t take him for the pathetic type but here he was..begging and whining like a little bitch. You smirked slightly as Gojo cupped the sides of your face with his shaky hands, his breath was hitched and shaky as well. He needed you so bad and he would pretty much do anything just for you to please and take him in your mouth, after all you were the only one who was able to take him.

— Hung!Gojo who sometimes stayed the whole day being pent up due to your teasing, you’d only kiss and lick on the tip of his huge cock and stop completely leaving him there to take care of himself. You were so mean to him. He kinda digged it though because that meant later on he could be rough and punish you..

— Hung!Gojo who waits for the day to be over with so he can absolutely fucking destroy you. He’s been bothered all day with the teasing you did to him and you know damn well what you did. He’d wait till you’re alone until he drags you with him and puts you in his domain. Before you could even get a word in next thing you knew his dick was in your mouth and he was shoving it down your throat making you take it.

You were shocked by the sudden way he just overlapped his domain keeping you there, making you suck his cock. He liked you so he wasn’t going to be so rough with you but he was still kind of mad, you were petty so he wanna gonna give you that same attitude back. Kind of..his hips moved back and forth harshly and quickly making sure the tip of his huge ass dick hit the back of your throat causing you to gag a little while sucking his cock. You felt every vein throb in your mouth as he coated your throat with his pre-cum. He wasn’t even close to coming yet..he wanted to ruin you..or at least try to. His dick was so big that there would be a bulge in your throat each time he moved his hips forward to make his cock sink more into your mouth. He had a smug look on his face as he used both hands to hold the back of your head slamming it onto his cock. “Your tongue, start using it.” You hesitated but did what he asked, you used your tongue to swirl around his thick cock as you kept looking at him in his bright blue glowing eyes. Your gagging and slurping noises echoed through out of the domain and you swore you heard his voice whispering in your ear even though he was standing in front of you making you suck his cock. Your body felt more sensitive and you could feel yourself growing hard from him? From Gojo? No way. That must’ve been a delusion but it really was true, your face didn’t really change it was still the same from earlier, not much expression just a neutral stare but what was different was the slight blush on your cheeks. Not because you liked him, no, you hated him but you were embarrassed he was able to catch you like this..you were going to unbutton your pants and deal with yourself in front of him but the sole of his shoe laid on your bulge pressing on it as he slightly rubbed it with his foot. “Ah ah..keep sucking my dick baby. You focus on me and only me..understand?” He patted the back of your head before you could nod or try to agree he came in your mouth, it was more than usual. It was so much but you were able to handle it, of course you were. You were perfect for this and so skilled at it..his whole body shuddered as he let his load out inside your mouth filling up your throat..after he was done with his orgasm he pulled out making you open your mouth to make sure you swallowed it all and like always..you did. “Good. Don’t let that happened again or else it’ll be your ass I’ll fuck the shit out of.” He said staring at you smiling as his domain was now off.

— Hung!Gojo who knows you love sucking on his big cock no matter the day or time it is. It could be all alone in the classroom, full of a bathroom with people trying to be quiet, in the dorms, in the meeting room all alone, in his car, anywhere. He’d give you it anytime of the day too, as long as you ask.

— Hung!Gojo who loves to hold your hands as he watches you suck his dick with no hands to help you, the he’s impressed with how you suck his big cock with your cute warm wet mouth. He’d even coo at you and tell you how good you’re doing.

— Hung!Gojo who goes on a rant about how perfect your dick sucking skills are, how you do better than any woman or man who’s ever tried to ever suck his cock, he’d even spoil you with lavish gifts and buys you whatever you wanted. Even if you didn’t ask he knew, he knew you so well. You may have hated him but he loved you and your perfect skill to be able to take his fat cock down that throat of yours.

— Hung!Gojo who would probably ask you to suck his dick in the middle of a mission or have you stroke him off during a meeting.

— Hung!Gojo who would constantly repeats how much he loves you and how he adored you more than anyone while sucking his dick. He didn’t care if you didn’t care he just wanted you to know how much he loves you..so much.

— Hung!Gojo who would sometimes lay back and let you do all the work when you insist to..you want to do your own thing here and there and go at your own pace. By ‘your own pace’ you mean absolutely breaking him. You’re able to make your throat squeeze down on him and make it feel like his own personal little glory hole when in reality it’s your throat making him feel good.

— Hung!Gojo who loves when you stroke him off before sucking his large cock, he loves the feeling of your cold hands touching and squeezing around his cock, he loved the way you’d sometimes sit on his lap and making out with him keeping eye contact as you rub and stroke his cock. The small moans he let out during the kiss turned you on sometimes if you were feeling nice enough you’d let him thigh fuck you for only 5 minutes.

— Hung!Gojo who’s cock is 7 inches long when soft and around 11 inches when hard with a bit of a pale pink flushed tip. How he would always produce pre-cum when you kissed and sucked the sides of the shaft of his cock. He enjoyed when you licked and cleaned the pre-cum off of his cock.

— Hung!Gojo taking videos or photos of you while you went at it and sucked his cock, praising you, leaving sweet comments, commenting on how well your dick sucking skills are, how you swallowed up his cum like your own special little beverage. He’d even ask to recreate some videos or photos if he enjoyed them that much.

— Hung!Gojo who spits in your mouth and makes you use his saliva to make his cock slide in your mouth with more ease. Not like it was hard for you anything..he just found it hot how you would do so.

— Hung!Gojo who loves the way you look at him when you suck his dick, your expression is usually cold with him but it softens when you’re sucking his dick. He finds it absolutely adorable and doesn’t comment on it, he doesn’t want you to hide this little side to you. He loves it too much. Although it doesn’t change THAT much it still looks cute and he’s into it. He’s into you. He loves you.

— Hung!Gojo who’s dick is is too big to to only use one hand while jerking him off, you’d have to use both hands AND your mouth if you wanted to please him right.

— Hung!Gojo who sends you pictures of his bulge/dick completely out while you’re doing your job, at home, or just anywhere.

— Hung!Gojo who loved to fill up your mouth with his warm cum, how you’d whisper a thank you or tell him to give you more, sometimes he’d make you beg or ask him but you didn’t really care..you just wanted his ridiculously huge cock.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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dollyhao · 2 days

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once more to see you; a. anderson

(short little angsty fic based off mitski's song. ive never done something like this so let me know if its good because i have other ideas.)

‘in the rearview mirror i saw the setting sun on your neck and felt the taste of you bubble up inside me’

abby watched you sleep as the sunrised, casting a orange glow to your face. she traces a finger down your arm as your face twitches from the slight touches. she can feel the way you kissed her skin last night like a lingering burn and how she returned them.

‘but with everyone watching us, our every move, we do have reputations’

‘we keep it secret, won’t them have it.’

abby knows you deserve more than sneaky meet ups in her room and on patrols but theres nothing she can do. if she wants to keep the respect and fear of wlf soldiers she can’t have them knowing about you two. abby refuses to let them turn what you two have together into something else. she's doing this for you; for both of you.

‘so come inside and be with’

‘alone with me, alone with me, alone’

you never complain as abby avoids eye contact with you or talks to you formally, like your just another soldier who has to listen to her commands. you let abby initiate intimacy so you don’t have another mishap like the last time.

so you let abby leave you little notes to meet her in empty rooms that aren’t used anymore. and accept as she pulls you into passionate kisses and tight hugs, her silent way of telling you she loves you.

‘if you would let me give you pinky promise kisses , then i wouldn’t have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart’

you watch abby as she gets close with owen, playfully hitting him, making jokes and laughing. you don’t remember the last time abby laughed with you. you watch and wonder if being in a relationship isn’t the problem for abby but that maybe it’s being in a relationship with you thats the problem.

your heart screams for her when she meets your gaze with a look of (fake?) disinterest. you want her to tell you she loves you like she use to before she went up in rank. you want to yell at her that this can’t be the way you are loved in such an already fucked up world; but you can’t bring yourself to stop the moments you do get together.

‘if i could see you, once more to see you”

abby hasn’t seen you give her a genuine smile in days. when your alone, you give her these half smiles and she watches you lip wobble the slightest bit as she walks into your room at midnight. but your still here, wrapping her into your arms as she pulls you down to lay on the bed with her.

so she takes in everything your giving her right now because your still here, even if your eyes are far away.

#abby kinda an asshole #wlw #lesbian #the last of us #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #i 🫶🏾 abby anderson #abby anderson angst #angst #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson tlou #abby tlou #abby the last of us

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miniversse · 1 day

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⭑ ”i owe you” pt.2 ⭑

╰┈➤ READ PART 1

⭑ jeongin x female reader

⭑ content includes: non-idol reader, non-idol jeongin, mentions of drinking, unprotected sex, releasing, fingering, mentions of scars and stitches, use of pet names (baby)

⭑ note: i cannot begin to describe how much i love this piece. please read part 1 for it all to make sense! ⭑ minors dni

⭑——————————————————⭑

recollections of that very night begin to flow through your mind and how everyday for weeks you stared into the dark alleyways, trying to picture his body there. immediately your eyes dart to his neck, only to find his tattoos slightly fading…

(SKZ)

your eyes dart back to his face, still questioning if it was true or not.

“i owe you.”

“j-jeongin?”

he slowly nods, a soft smile growing on his healed face.

“i don’t think i thanked you enough for that night.” he stops to look down at his shoes, kicking at the box in front of him to fill the silence, speaking again.

“what you did, it really changed me. you didn’t have to help me, even after i was a total bitch to you.”

the emotions you had five years ago the first time you locked eyes with him grew inside of you again, but in another light. first time it was sympathy and worry. but now it’s love and comfort.

“come have a drink at my place, as way of welcoming you as my new neighbor” you suggest, hoping it can soften the mood.

“you changed your paintings” he sets his shot glass slowly on the table, observing your living room.

“how do you know?” you never knew he would remember so much, and you felt embarrassed.

“i had to distract myself from the pain, it was the only thing i could admire.”

“i thought it was time for a cha-“

“other than you”

the words caught in your throat and your heart stopped beating for a moment. the way he glanced at you never left your mind, and it all made sense now. before you could react, he brings himself closer to you on the couch, resting his palm on your cheek. you were able to get a closer look of his healed scar, secretly admiring your work.

“5 years, y/n. you never left my mind for a day”

his lips clash with yours, aggressive kisses from the beginning. his tongue glides over yours, moving deeper and deeper inside of your mouth. his hand rests on your waist, sneakily pushing you closer to him. it felt like the world was timing you, your bodies frantically rushing to the bedroom, lips still locked.

his hand rides up your shirt, fiddling with your bra strap. your body tingles at his touch, bringing him closer.

“more, jeongin”

“i.n” he mumbles, breaking the kiss you thought would never end.

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing, y/n”

you couldn’t take him seriously while he glides his hands over your skin, exploring every part of your body and feeling his boner against your thigh.

“isn’t that why you moved next to me?”

he laughs, placing his head in the nook of your neck, taking in your sweet smell. he brings his mouth closer to your ear, placing small hot kisses around it.

“you could say so”

the setting sun glorified his body over yours, stripping naked and revealing his bare self to you. there was more than you thought had happened to him. his chest had several stitches everywhere which were slowly healing.

“w-what’s this?”

he looks down, tracing every stitch and bringing his fingers down to trace them onto your bare torso.

“SKZ. i was apart of some underground group. we got into a lot of scandals and fights and deals gone wrong. we were wanted, dead or alive.”

he moves to lay down next to you, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear as you listen attentively.

“i was always the one who got the hurts, because i was always initiating the problems. that day, was my last day being in SKZ”

“what made you leave?” your questions didn’t bother him anymore, he answered you with love and passion, and it couldn’t have been better.

“you. i was a hopeless romantic, and i thought no doctor would date someone like me. so i changed for you.”

you place a peck on his cheek, laying on his chest to hear the rest.

“i wrote your address on a paper, got a stable job, got off the police’s radar and here i am. with you.”

his words made you squirm with joy and sympathy. you wanted to pay off every day of those 5 years he spent for you. you want it to be eternity with him.

“fuck, baby” he groans at the way you stretch around his dick, grabbing onto the sheets for support.

you moved up and down his thick length, moaning with every inch he put inside of you. he felt like an escape of the harsh and cruel worlds you both lived in.

“faster baby, faster” you oblige, taking him in faster and slamming your ass down on him, making him go wild. he brings his two fingers to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip open. he swirls your saliva around them and brings it down to your clit, moving in slow circular motions.

“oh my fu- i.n fuck” your breath became harder to catch at the overloaded sensory.

he bit at his lower lip, enjoying the view of your sex face, pounding body and wet clit. you couldn’t deny that he looked ten times hotter with his scars that must carry so much significance to him.

his dick jerks inside of you and his veins glide again your walls. he only rubbed you faster, moving to place his fingers inside of you too, bringing you to your orgasm. your unholy moans and sweet nothings filled the air, and your release coated his dick, lubricating his final moments before he releases too.

you fall onto the mattress beside him, panting and holding each other tight.

“baby?” you whisper to him softly.

“hm?” his foxy eyes gaze into yours, waiting to listen to you all day, all month, all year.

“i owe you”

FIN.

⭑ TAG LIST

@captainchrisstan @all4minnie @rylea08 @strayywayy @katsukis1wife @kayleefriedchicken

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mykoreanlove · 17 hours

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i need skz angst like rn??😭

hyunjin x female reader, and they maybe decide to go out to like a club or something, and some guy hits on the reader and hyunjin is like “you were flirting back!” and the reader is just very confused bc they tried to let the guy know as kindly as possible that they are taken, but hyunjin is still really mad and it results in them fighting

and then maybe hyunjin decides to go home but not like a shared apartment thing like he goes somewhere reader doesn’t know about

and then a day passes and he’s like “oh no i fucked up” and comes to readers apartment to apologize

happy ending? tysmmm🎀

I was like sure, let's writing something short and quick but somehow it turned into 6 pages lol. hope u enjoy it :)

The pros of being an insanely hot couple? A lot of sex and affection, a lot of people wanting to be like you and a lot of praise and admiration.

The cons of being an insanely hot couple? A lot of people trying to take your place, a lot of jealous envy and a lot of insecurity.

“Baby, you look incredible”, Hyunjin whispered into your ear as he hugged you from behind. You were standing in front of the mirror, admiring your look for the night. “I wanted to look good for you”, you shyly admitted as you leaned into him. “There is absolutely nothing you have to do to accomplish this, y/n. Nothing, you hear me?”

Ever since you met Hyunjin a couple of weeks ago your whole world turned around. You were used to dating a lot and having fun, but this was different. He was different. Both of you fell for the other rather quickly, a romance that revealed a hidden side within you.

“I want to kiss you so badly”, you whined.

“Why don’t you?”

Instantaneously, you pointed to your lips covered in deep ruby red.

“Ah”, he nodded understandingly. “Is it okay then if I do this?”, Hyunjin asked before kissing every inch of your collarbone, slightly sucking to mark his territory.

Hyunjin was a confident guy, knowing damn well that he was good looking and talented and still he felt conflicted at times. What if this was not enough? What if he was not enough for you? Since you were in your early dating stages, he never had vocalized his concerns, but his body did. His need to be near you, touch you and possess you was evident from the start.

“Jinnie, stop”, you giggled as you pushed him away.

Irritation grew on his face, not understanding why you were distancing yourself.

“I’m gonna be covered in marks that everyone is going to see”, you teased.

He felt his chest tighten. Did you not want others to see them? Did you want to be perceived as single? His own sparks of insecurity got ignited again, waiting to turn into a full-size fire.

The club was crowded with people of all kinds – dancers, jocks, hot models, a real feast for the eye. You were used to people turning their heads, especially when you were together with Hyunjin. It never bothered you that much since you knew how devoted he was to you.

“Can I tell you something?” You were laying on his chest, watching him breathe calmly. “Sure.” “I found your old DVDs in the basement, and I started watching them while you were at work. Binging them, really. And I saw something that really stuck with me”, he explained silently. “What was it?” “Ever thine. Ever mine. Ever ours”, he explained softly. You turned your head and gazed into his teary eyes. “We haven’t been together that long, I know. But this is exactly how I feel, y/n. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore. Cannot. Do not want to. Impossible.” You started tearing up as well, finally feeling at home with another soul. You placed a soft kiss on his plush lips and whispered: “I’ll be your Carry, baby.”

“Come dance with me”, you shouted as you pulled him to the dance floor. It was hot and sticky, but you didn’t mind, in fact you loved it like that. The music was energetic and vibrant, filling the whole room with energy and life force. You only had eyes for Hyunjin, watching his body move gracefully to the music. When he danced, he became one with the tunes, one with the movements. He smirked as he caught you staring, knowing damn well that you were weak for his dancing. As the song changed into a slower, sexier one you found yourself in front of him, grinding on his muscular body. All the other people were forgotten as you swayed your hips on him, feeling him getting hard behind you. His hands on your body and his hot breath on your neck was all you needed to know.

Hyunjin however was more prone to your surroundings. He enjoyed having you like that, but he hated sharing you with others. He was too aware of the other pair of eyes that was set on you. Like a reflex, he pulled you closer, grabbed a bit harder and provoked your surrender, demonstrating whom you belonged to.

“Fuck, baby, if you keep this up, we have to go”, you moaned into his ear.

“Let’s do that”, his whole face lit up. “Let’s get out of here, y/nnie.”

“But we just came?”, you whined in annoyance.

Hyunjin’s eyes darkened as his gaze pierced through you. Just like that, goosebumps formed on your skin, electricity cursed through your body making you feel all hot. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“I’m going to the bathroom really quick to fix this situation right here”, he said as he nodded to his crotch, “and when I come back, we leave, you hear me?”

You swallowed and nodded, already anticipating the night ahead.

“Good girl.”

He placed a kiss on your forehead and turned around, quickly looking for the bathroom.

You walked over to the exit and leaned against the cold wall, waiting for your boyfriend, already picturing him doing unspeakable things to you. You were so engulfed in your naughty daydreams that you didn’t even notice the guy from the dancefloor approaching you.

“Hey!”

“Oh, hi”, you replied politely.

“I saw you dancing earlier, damn you got moves!”, he complimented you.

“Thanks”, you replied drily.

“So uhm, would you like to have a drink with me?”

“No”, you shook your head.

“Why not?”

“Well, if you saw me dancing earlier you must have seen my boyfriend behind me, right? That’s why.”

“Shit, sorry. I kinda hoped that he was just another guy hitting on you.”

“Far from that.”

“He’s that great, huh?”

“Y/N”, Hyunjin called out angrily while glaring at the other guy.

You were taken aback by his tone, feeling anxious so you followed him without saying a word.

Fumingly, he marched to the car, while you were trying to keep up. Hyunjin placed both of his hands on the cold metal of the vehicle as he was trying to calm himself.

“Jinnie”, you called out softly.

“Don’t fucking call me that, y/n.”

“What?”

He turned around and faced you, his pupils were dilated, and his nostrils flared – he was angry as fuck.

“Don’t fucking call me that when you were flirting with some dickhead behind my back!”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Of course, I am. That bastard was eye-fucking you while we were dancing, and I left you alone for 5 minutes and you were already cozying up to him?”

“Cozying up to him? Cozying up to him? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“What? I know what I saw!”

“Enlighten me, then. What did you see?”

“I saw you all smiley and giggly, you were practically shooting heart eyes emojis at him! Is that why you hated me giving you hickeys on your collarbone? So, everybody could see you were available?!”

You felt the punch to your stomach, making it harder to breathe. Every single word of his was laced in the most painful accusation, one that you had been familiar with way too often.

“Yeah, you’re right. I was flirting back and shooting heart eyes emojis at him. It was so much fun! And I was damn grateful that my body was free of your damn hickeys!”, you retorted angrily.

Hyunjin was about to explode, not being able to differentiate between your lies and his perceived reality.

Wordless, he turned around and got into the car. You looked at him one last time, hoping that he would come to his senses – but he didn’t. The loud sound of his engine disturbed the quiet of the night and not seconds later he was gone.

What should have been a fun night out for a young couple turned into a vicious disaster. One was crying hiding in the dirty toilet of a club, while the other was crying racing down the highway. Promises of forever love turned into accusations of unfaithfulness, painting your rosy world of adoration into black loneliness.

You had no idea how you made it back home, nor did you care. The following day was torture – you were ruminating over everything, trying to understand what had happened yesterday. Deep sadness filled your whole being. Hyunjin did not call, nor text. He vanished out of your life, just like he vanished into the night air yesterday. Was that it? Was it over?

“Damn, you look like shit. Why are your eyes so puffy?”

Hyunjin pulled the covers over his head, trying to dissolve into thin air.

“Hey, come on. Talk to me”, his friend encouraged him.

“I may have made the biggest mistake of my life yesterday.”

“Oh my god, did you cheat on y/n?”

“What? No. Of course not. I would never do that”, he explained.

“What did you do then?”

“I accused her of cheating on me.”

“Shit, sorry.”

“Don’t be. This was the last time I let my demons take over”, he mumbled as he left his room.

By evening, you felt better – at least good enough to go for a walk and clear your head. Minutes after you left Hyunjin appeared at your door – holding a giant bouquet of flowers in his trembling hands. He rang your door hundreds of times, knocked on it until his knuckles were swollen and called out for you until his throat was sore. But nothing.

Defeated, he slid down to the ground and thought of what to do.

“Y/N, I made a big mistake yesterday. I am so sorry. I should have never accused you of shit like that.”

He was wiping away his tears again, the thought of loosing you made his heart break every single time.

“You see I’m not perfect. Far from it. Yet somehow you seem to think that way. And I just… I just wait for the shoe to drop. For you to finally realize that I’m nothing special.”

“Jinnie”, you called out his name while stopping in front of your apartment. His eyes widened in surprise, immediately followed by relief. “You didn’t open up because you hated me but because you weren’t home…”

“Don’t flatter yourself, hate is on the top of the list right now”, you glared angrily.

He lowered his head in defeat.

“Are those for me?”, you nodded to the bouquet of flowers.

“Yes.”

You opened the door and passed by him. “Put them in a vase, then.”

Surprised, he got up on his feet and followed you inside.

“Can we talk?”

You sat across from him, giving him the cold shoulder.

“Talk.”

“Y/N, I am sorry. Please believe me, I am so sorry. I was seeing things, I let my insecurities win and I accused you of shit you didn’t do. Please, forgive me.”

“What did you think happened there?”

“I saw you guys talking and then I saw red. Like, you were smiling from ear to ear, practically shooting heart eyes emojis at him. I just, I just saw red.”

You sighed deeply, finally understanding where he was coming from.

“You’re right. I was shooting heart eyes emojis at him.”

“What?” Hyunjin’s heart was about to explode.

“But only because I was talking about you, Jinnie. He asked me out for a drink, and I explained to him that I already found the greatest guy on earth. I was gushing over you, like a freaking fan girl.”

“He’s that great, huh?” “Oh my god, yes. He is the greatest. No really, he is great at everything. Dancing, painting, loving? The best. He is also the kindest and loveliest guy I ever met. Always caring for the ones he loves. Never a dull moment with him. He makes me laugh so much. I swear I got abs because of him. And did you see how handsome he is? Fuck me, it’s like God created him himself and brought him to earth, so we could adore him. Fucking masterpiece, that man.” “Okay, okay, I got it”, the guy gave up. “Must be one hell of a lover.” “One hell of a lover. One hell of a soul. My soul, actually.”

“I feel like the biggest idiot right now”, he admitted ashamed.

“Yeah, you should feel like that.”

“I’m sorry, y/nnie. Can you forgive me?”

Silence lingered between the two of you, only for a moment, until you got up and walked over to him. You put your arms around his lean torso and hugged him tightly, willing to put this past you.

Hyunjin’s body finally relaxed, as he hugged you back. His lips landed on the crown of your head, simply resting there, and holding you close.

“Jinnie, wait. There is something else you need to know.”

He released you from his grip and looked at you anxiously.

“What is it?”

“When I was younger, I got bullied for hickeys. My first boyfriend always left them on my neck and the others harassed me for it, calling me slut and all sorts of names. So, it’s true, I don’t like them being visible.”

Hyunjin’s heart broke once more – for one because you had to endure this harassment, but also because he bullied you himself.

“I’m sorry, y/nnie. I won’t do that ever again.”

“Wait, no. I love your hickeys. I love your lips on me, I really do. But can we, maybe, agree to leave hickeys in places only we can see?”, you asked shily.

Hyunjin chuckled and pulled you in for a kiss, promising to do just that.

“I really meant what I said. I can’t imagine my life without you. I really can’t.”

You grabbed his hands and squeezed them, agreeing you felt the same way. “I feel like we should talk about your insecurities, but I’m drained from last night.”

“Let’s relax for now, baby.”

“What do you want to do?”

Hyunjin’s lips turned upwards, forming the loveliest yet sneakiest smile.

“Okay, fine. I get the popcorn and you switch on the TV. Sex and the city marathon it is”, you rolled your eyes at him teasingly.

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elisysd · 2 days

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12. Don't give me up, cause what about, what about angels

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: What About Angels - Birdy

Charles saw you tensing after your mother’s cold greeting. He hated how you flinched as she was reminding you that being late was disrespectful towards your dad’s special day, that being away from home and in a big city had made you lose sight of the values they had taught you. But he hated even more how you simply smiled and apologized. He needed all his self control to not take your side, he knew how anxious this whole situation was making you feel, he didn’t want to make it worse by saying something he knew wouldn’t be well received.

The first thing he noticed in the house’s hall was the amount of family pictures, but instead of four people on them were only three. He recognised your mom, assumed the man beside her was your dad and when he thought he would notice you, it was instead your little brother. He couldn't be wrong, he looked exactly like you. The pictures were cut in a certain way that didn’t take him a long time to understand that you had been cut out of them. He felt a wave of rage hitting him. Why make you come here if your parents had gone to such an extent as to erase every trace of your existence? It was a twisted joke.

“You don’t even call anymore, Y/N. I knew it would happen, I’ve always said that being in a world full of sparks and empty promises would change you. You’re too gullible. You don’t even have time for your own family anymore. Not that you ever had.”

“You’ve never tried to ask questions about my job…” you mumbled as Charles put a comforting hand on your hip.

“I don’t need to. I know exactly what you do, you’re the talk of the town. The small town girl made it to the TV. There is no reason to be proud, playing a pretty face on tv… that is not what I raised you to be. And now you’re associating yourself with fair-weather friends…” she said, darting judgmental eyes on Charles. “I know exactly who you are.”

He didn’t have the time to reply as your dad entered the room and sat on the chair without a word. You sat too, Charles close to you as your mom joined your dad’s side.

“How nice it is to finally see you alive.” he said, making you gulp.

“I’m Charles, your daughter’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” he introduced himself in a desperate attempt to drive the conversation away from you and the relieved sigh you let out made him think that you appreciated it.

Lunch was awkward, punctuated with snarky comments here and there that you tried your best to ignore. Charles was trying to do the same but it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his calm. But it was when cake was brought that resentment and unspoken words finally came out in the open. You had taken your phone out of your pocket, wanting to show your parents all the beautiful landscapes you had the chance to witness.

“Aren’t you ashamed?” your mom muttered.

“Why?” you turned your head to look at her in disbelief.

“Ashamed of following the sport that killed your brother. Ashamed of being with the man responsible for his death.” she sternly said.

You felt like a million daggers stabbing your heart all at once. You took a deep breath, putting your hand on his thigh, squeezing it lightly to indicate to him not to react. It was something you had to do alone.

“F1 and Charles didn’t kill Luc, it was his leukemia, not anything else.” you replied, feeling a lump in your throat.

“If you had not introduced your brother to that stupid sport, he wouldn’t have been a fan and his illness wouldn't have turned that bad so quickly. He wasn’t talking about anything else than that sport and you. Until his very last breath. His last words were about Formula 1. It took my baby away from me and this is your fault. Both of you.” she finished, turning to Charles this time.

“If I can add something… I know I have no right to comment on this situation but even if I understand your pain, Y/N is not the one to blame. She…” Charles started, quickly shutted up by your dad.

“You’re right, you have no right to say a thing. You don’t know what it is like to lose a son.”

“Maybe I don’t, yeah. But I know exactly what it feels like to lose a parent. I understand your pain. Truly. But with all due respect, you’ve already lost a son, you should be more careful to not lose a daughter by pushing her away and making her feel like a stranger in her own family.”

“We’ve already lost her the minute she decided to not show up at the funeral.” your mom spitted, making you close your eyes, trying to not cry. You wouldn’t give that pleasure to your parents.

“I think it’s best if we leave. It was a bad idea to come here, anyway.” you ended up saying, standing up, Charles following you. “You shouldn’t have invited me in the first place, if it was to treat me that way.”

You took Charles’ hand in yours and dragged him out of what had been once your safe place. Without a word you made your way to his car and rushed inside and it was only when the door was closed and that he had taken place behind the wheel that you broke down. He didn’t hesitate to pull you on his lap and let you cry on his shoulder, holding you tight.

“It’s okay, babe… you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to feel bad, you have nothing to feel bad about. If you were believing your mom’s lies, I understand why you were so mean to me at the beginning now.”

“She is not entirely wrong, you know.” you sniffed in his neck. “At least about one thing, I should’ve been there for Luc’s funeral. But it was too hard for me. I didn’t want to face the fact that I would never see him again. I didn’t want to make the nightmare I was in real. because if I was going, it would happen exactly that. It would have made the pain real and permanent. I couldn’t.”

You put your forehead against his, trying to find a way to ground you. Charles drew small patterns on your hips, comforting you the best he could.

“Let’s get some fresh air, okay?” he whispered against your ear.

You got out of the car and hand in hand you started to wander the streets of your childhood, telling him anecdotes and facts of any buildings and streets you were walking on and seeing.

“Tell me about Luc.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Whatever you want. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me.”

“He was passionate. About many things. History and art mostly. He wanted to work in a museum. And passionate about F1 of course. He knew a lot of mechanical stuff, more than I did. He taught me as much as I did, I swear. Maybe more. I was spending my weekends at the hospital with him to watch the races. When he was hospitalized, it was what kept him going. It was our thing, you know. Wait, I think I have a picture to show you.”

She took a photo out of her wallet and gave it to him. If he didn’t know it was a hospital room, he would have had a hard time guessing it. Everywhere were Ferrari and monegasque flags as well as a lot of merch. He was recognising one of his caps on the bedside table. Posters of his podiums were hung on the walls, his Monza’s win right above Luc’s head. Small replicas of his trophies were there too as well as miniatures of his helmets.

“A real fan.” he smiled.

“The best.” you sighed. “ You don’t know how happy he was when you won in Monza. It brought so much joy in his life. Even if it wasn’t for long. It was a tough time, he had just started to get hospitalized, he was very sick and pale and the shell of what he once was. And suddenly, he was feeling a little more alive. Because of you. Then, time went by and I had to leave for New York. It was the toughest decision I had to make in my life. At some point I was ready to take a year off so I could be with him…”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Him. With time my dream became his. He wouldn’t have forgiven me if I was giving it all up because he was sick. He was talking about how amazing it would be if I was interviewing you. I bet he is the happiest up there.” you smiled, looking up. “One of his dreams was to meet you.”

“Maybe it is not too late?” Charles hesitantly said and you looked at him curiously. “Is he buried here?”

You nodded and he felt you stiffened.

“I've never been on his grave.” you confessed after a moment of silence. “It’s too hard and too painful to go there alone.”

“Good thing you’re not alone anymore, then.”

As you were making your way to the graveyard, Charles had to hold you closer to his chest with each step you were taking. You sobs were getting louder and your legs were shakier. It was breaking his heart, trying to see how much you were trying to keep it together.

When you finally reached the grave, at the back end of the graveyard, you fell on your knees in front of the black grave. Luc hated black. A black and white picture of him was also in the middle of the gravestone. It made you shiver. It was well kept, your parents were coming often. The lump in your throat had not gone away in the slightest, it was even bigger now, making you choke up on your own saliva. Charles wanted to hold you, wanted to get you out of here. The emotional devastation you were in was making him want to join you on the ground and cry with you. But he also knew you needed it. It was the closure you needed to move forward. He took a few steps away, giving you privacy.

“I’m so sorry, Luc. So sorry. Sorry about how I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, sorry to have let you down, sorry to not have stepped up and measured up when I should have, sorry to not have been the sister you deserved. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t regret not being by your side. There are so many things that I should have done differently, so many things that I feel guilty about but none of them compare to how guilty I feel to not have said goodbye. I acted like a coward and I know how much you felt scared about dying. And how I promised you I would hold your hand until the end. I didn’t. I chickened out and I failed you. If I could go back in time, I would, just so I could look into your eyes one last time and hold your hand tight. I wouldn’t hesitate. I would trade anything for one last smile of yours. I hope you can forgive me, I sure can’t do that alone. But despite everything I’m happy and I’m not sure I should be. I fell in love and you would be ecstatic to know who I share my life with. He is supportive and kind and perfect for me. I wish we would have had enough time so you could have met him. But maybe after all, it’s you I should thank. Maybe it’s you who sent Charles on my way. Maybe it is your way of telling me that you are not mad at me. That you want me to be happy. If only you could give me a sign. I just want you to know that everything I do, I do it for you. Because I love you. Forever.”

You felt Charles’ arms around your shoulders as he crouched down beside you.

“Hey, Luc. I know we don’t know each other but your sister talks about you so much that I feel like I already know you. I would have loved to meet you, I know how big of a fan you are of F1. I would have loved to show you around the paddock, maybe I would have let you sit in my car. Anything to make you and your sister smile. You are brave and strong and I have nothing but pure admiration for you. I wish I could have met you. Don’t worry about your sister, I take good care of her and I don’t want to let go of her. I’m here for her for as long as she lets me but I hope it is a forever kind of thing.” he whispered as you looked at him with big and glossy eyes.

He helped you stand up, asked if you were alright and if you wanted to leave. He didn’t mind staying but he wanted to make sure you were alright, the day had been emotionally draining enough. When you nodded, he took you in his arms, engulfing you in his jacket so you weren’t cold and kissed the top of your head as you headed out.

“I’m so proud of you. So proud.” he said as you finally reached his car.

“Thank you. For being there. I don’t think I would have been able to do it alone.”

“You’re the strongest person I know. You would have done it at some point.”

“Did you mean it? What you said up there… About us being forever.” you shyly asked.

“I’m sorry it was not the best time to say it. But to answer you, I do. I’m not kidding, Y/N, I swear I can’t explain it. I don’t know how either but I just know. You’re the love of my life.”

Author's note: In laws meeting incoming... how do you think it will turn out? .

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 days

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Bullet In Your Heart, Part 8

Summary: you and Clark....

Pairings: Clark Kent X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (F receiving), PIV sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, breeding kink, judgmental people, grief, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.2K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Your fingers dig into the sheets, and your eyes roll in the back of your head as your back lifts up off the bed. Holding onto whatever ounce of your senses you have left while you bite on your lip, it was the price you paid for having two small children.

Your back starts to rise off the bed, but his meaty hand press your stomach, holding you down. His right hand drives in and out of your core, while his mouth makes a meal of your honey. You can feel the rumble on your bundle of nerves as he chuckles when you slap a hand over your face. Muffling a scream you couldn’t stifle.

Clark’s mouth is a work of art. If you were artistic you would have already made a shrine to the godlike qualities he possesses. Starting to wiggle around, and then he curls those fingers. Hitting over your g spot over and over again until your body trembles. Still he begs for more. Using his shoulders to keep you good and spread. Your legs try to close at the overstimulation when his fingers pound into your sex. Seeing stars, you come undone, squirting into his mouth, and he laves up every bit of your juices like a man starved.

You’re left panting. Gazing up at the ceiling while your husband feasts, and you wait for the room to stop spinning. Lifting up to your elbows you watch Clark smirk at you as he wipes off his glistening face. “Don’t you look proud of yourself,” you huff out.

Clark nods as he stands up out of the floor. Picking your body up, he launches you up the bed before he’s splitting your legs, and crawling in between them. Slapping his cock over your clit, smiling even bigger, “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that, my sweet little Cricket bug.”

“I really despise that nickname.”

“Why’s that?”

“The nickname of a child,” your eyes go cross eyed as he slams his girth into your body. “Oh my god.”

“You know why I like that nickname?” You shake your head no, and grab onto his hips as he starts a slow thrust into your body. Dragging his veiny cock out of you slowly, and leaving you breathless before he stabs back into you. “Because even though you’re not this tiny little girl anymore, there is this tight little cunt that I get use every fucking day.”

“Clark,” you whimper, and your nails dig into his back. “Clark, they’re gonna wake up.”

“And it’s time for us to have another one,” you nod your head up at him. Wrapping your legs around his waist, and you pull him even closer, yipping when his bulbous head grazes over your cervix, “You always did like me deep, huh? Like to feel me in your pussy for the rest of the day. Aren’t we going to that pool party?”

“What?” Pulling himself out of you, he goes harder than ever before. Moaning out loud, and he places a hand over your mouth.

“Quiet, Cricket,” he starts at an earth shattering pace. Leaving you begging for mercy. “I want you to go to that party with my seed dripping out of you. I saw Frank staring at you. There’s only one man you’re slutty for, and that’s me, understand?” You give him a head nod, and you cling to his back for dear life.

“Got me in a damn vice grip. My god, you’re coming aren’t you?” Another nod as your body becomes completely pliable for him. “Good fucking girl,” pulling out of your body, he flips you to your knees, before crawling behind you. Burying his cock balls deep into your cunt, he mounts you, and you have to hide your face into the pillows. “It’ll take this way. You're such a pretty little slut for me in the morning.”

You can feel him all the way your stomach as he splits you open. Using his body for his pleasure when you hear him use his strangled voice. “Are you coming a-a-again? It’s because you feel my cock throbbing, huh?”

“It’s because you’re fucking me so deep,” that was too loud, but you’re in a different world. Your body rocking with every hammer he does into you.

“Right…right there. Best pussy I’ve ever had,” Clark’s hands pull apart your ass cheeks, and he stares at where the two of you connect. Watching as he nearly turns you inside out, and your walls cling to him so tightly. “So fucking sloppy for me. Fuck — me!” One last hard push into you, and ribbons of hot cum fill your belly, and you look back at him with the softest smile. Your walls milk every last bit of his essence, making you all warm and tingly.

“That’s the one, Cricket. I don’t know if I want a little Lottie or a little Henny,” keeping himself inside of you, he adjusts himself down to his knees. Those crystal eyes look up at your satisfied face before back to the two of you. “I gotta keep it in there, okay?”

“Okay,” you whine. You didn’t want him to pull out yet anyways. “Clark?” He finally looks up at you, and you preen, “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Cricket bug. I meant it, you’re the best pussy.”

“I really don’t want to think of all the women you’ve been with while you’re inside of me.”

“Deep inside you,” he gives you a wink, spreading you wider apart. “You know, there is another hole back here,” you shake your head no, starting to giggle, “Dot let me…”

“Clark!” He starts laughing, spitting down to your ass, “No!”

“Come on. One time.”

“You’ve already came.”

“So if I get hard again?” You want to kick your husband off you, but then he looks back at your hole, starting to slowly slide himself out. Dropping out of your body when he just stares, “I love seeing how gaping I make you. God, I made such a mess.”

”Daddy!” The door handle wiggles a bit, and you’re thankful Clark was smart enough to lock it. It wiggles again when a big bang happens, “Daddy! Henny is in my room! Wake mommy up, and get your son! Daddy! I hear you laughing.”

“I’ll deal with this,” you say, standing up, and Clark points to your panty drawer. “Yes, daddy. Let me put this on, so I feel your mess inside of me while we’re with the neighbors, but you got to wash your filthy mouth. Lottie will want kisses. Go,” you motion towards the bathroom, and Clark walks towards it. But stops to pinch your nipples, and pull you towards him.

Slamming his mouth against yours, and you can still taste your arousal on his tongue. Moaning at how good he feels, “Daddy!” Lottie knocks on the door a bit, and he pulls back.

“I’ll make sure to fuck you again tonight, Mrs. Kent.”

“How about you let me fuck you?” He growls, and jogs into the bathroom, leaving you to pull on your panties and a nightgown. Opening the door to see your exasperated daughter stare up at you.

“What took you so long? Were you and daddy having a tickle fight again?”

“Yes, darling. Come on, let’s deal with Henry. He is just like your daddy, you know?”

“Wild man,” he really was. He was every bit as wild as Clark used to be. But marriage and children really calmed Clark down, and you couldn’t be more thankful. Life was different than you had planned, but you had finally learned to love where you are currently. Happy that you get to see Carter through Charlotte. She is every bit as sweet and loving as he was.

You give a curt smile to the host. Everyone here judged you for being with more than one man, and several hated you for taming Clark. He leans in behind you, kissing your neck, and placing another behind your ear, “They’re jealous that they couldn’t get me to settle down.”

“Oh, so Susie is someone you made a mess of?”

“Absolutely not. She’s someone I turned down. Such a prude. Here, take Henry, I’m going to go cook with the dads. Have yourself a cocktail,” he gives your ass a little swat before walking away, leaving you to kiss over Henry’s chunky cheeks.

“You know, I don’t know how you do it?” Judith, one of the more distant neighbors, says while walking up behind you.

“Do what? He’s really not that heavy.”

“Oh, no, dear, she means you and Clark,” you glance between her and Susie confused, and the host offers you a cocktail, “He can walk, right?” You answer yes, and she gives a point over to the kiddie pool. “He’ll be fine. I’m sure Clark won’t mind keeping an eye on him with you.”

Confused, you let Henry step onto the grass, and he runs right to his daddy’s legs. Crashing into them with a belly laugh, “See.”

“What about me and Clark?” You feared these women would never accept you as one of them. Bitter Betty’s. Throughout the years, the whispers never stopped. It didn’t help that you kept to yourself.

“Oh, honey, don’t get defensive. Of all the men that you could have found, you chose Carter’s best friend? Ain’t that a trip?” You smile sweetly at her, when in reality you want to gather your children and go back home. “How do they compare? I mean nobody was talking about Carter’s size, if you know what I mean.”

“What exactly do you mean?” Batting your eyes, you look straight at her, and thankfully her smile starts to fade.

“Don’t do that, it’s all good fun.”

“Yes, my first husband dying in a war is a riot. Thankfully Clark wasn’t drafted.”

“Did you ever, well, you know?” Judith shakes her head no at Susie, and you look between the two of them again. What were these women on. “I mean, everyone thought about relations with Clark. He’s practically slept with every woman in town.”

“Except you,” she shuts her mouth, clearing her throat. “No. I never once thought of Clark like that. In fact both of us were distraught when Carter passed. We fell in love during grief, and we fucked before we were married,” Susie gasps, placing her hand on her chest, and Clark turns around, now holding Henry. His face is full of concern as he watches you leave the women.

Leaning down to Charlotte in the water, “Lottie, come on, baby.”

“No, I’m playing with my friends.”

“Charlotte Abigail Baizen, out of the pool now!” You feel your cheeks inflame with anger as she pouts, climbing out of the pool, and Clark hands you the baby.

“I got her. Hey?”

“Don’t you thank them for inviting us either,” Grabbing Henry with a huff, and kisses his cheek you start to stomp home. Fuck all of them. They could go straight to the pits of hell for all you cared. They had no idea the inner battle you feel every single day. Feeling guilty that you can’t love Clark the way that you loved Carter because Clark would never be him.

But somehow in the midst of your turmoil you fell in love with Clark. The way he fathered your children. The way he looked at you every morning. You were feral for the way he treated you when it was just the two of you. It wasn’t the same, and would never be, but you and Clark had created something entirely different. You created a love that bloomed from grief and friendship.

Clark finds you in the living room, dancing around with Henry while an old record plays, shooing Lottie into her bedroom, when you kiss over Henry’s closed eyes. Humming along with the music when Clark comes back. He stands at the entrance of the living room, watching the two of you. “Cricket, go put him in his crib.”

“I need him right now.”

“Don’t use my son as a way to avoid this conversation,” looking up at him, you scowl. That isn’t what you’re doing. “Cricket, he’s asleep. Either you take him or I will.”

“Clark, you don’t understand.”

“Then put my son in the bed and explain it to me.”

“Your son,” you hold his body closer to you, wishing you could rewind the day, and never go to that stupid party. You didn’t need friends. “You never tell me what to do with your daughter. I guess because she’s Carter’s?”

“Go put Henry in the bed, and let’s talk about this because you’re being unreasonable. Now!” With a final kiss, you stalk out of the living room. Laying him down in his crib, and you pet along his perfect skin. He is one of the most beautiful little boys you have ever seen. Deciding it’s best not to make Clark wait too long, you walk back into the living room.

Clark is now in his chair, lighting up a cigarette when he looks at his watch, “That took almost five minutes. His room is just down the hallway.”

“You timing me? Can I not take my time to look at your son? I thought about stopping in Lottie’s room to help her change, but thankfully Carter’s daughter is smart enough to change out of her wet bathing suit.”

“What the fuck is your problem? Lottie is my daughter, Henry is my son, and they’re our children,” he watches your chest heave. Breathing angrily, you try not to shed a single tear. Clark has always been there. Was there the moment Charlotte was born, and you have built a beautiful life. “Why are we bringing up Carter?”

“Because he’s always going to haunt us. Because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, and you had to fuck his widow. Your best friend, Clark.”

“You weren’t complaining much,” you hate how he can be so calm when you are raging. You want to throw something at him. He is the reason you went to the party. “So why are we bringing him up?”

“Because those stupid bitches hate me. They hate that I married you, hate that I tied you down, and have your child.”

“They hate that you know what I feel like, and feel me everyday.”

“You’re such a slut.”

“Yeah, for you,” you roll your eyes, starting to walk away, but Clark stands quickly, grabbing your wrist, and pulls you into his body harshly. “You’re my little slut, and I’m yours. I don’t care what those women think.”

“But I do! You insist on trying to be friends with the neighbors, and going out and being social. And I go there and they talk to me like I’m trash because I’ve had two dicks.”

“Who the fuck cares?! Are we happy? Are our kids happy? Did I not fuck my seed into you just this morning? Cricket, I don’t care about them. I care about you. You don’t want to be social, fine. We’ll get us a pool. Get the kids a playground. You and them are all I care about. And I’m not going to spend the next six months arguing about Carter. He’s gone. And…I’m glad.”

You lean back to gaze up at him, tears filling your eyes while you search his face. “I wouldn’t want to have missed this with you. So yeah, you tamed the slut. If he’d come back, I wouldn’t have you and our home. I love you, Cricket Bug. You’re my favorite person, followed by a tie for second. I can’t change his death, but I can love you fiercely, and take care of you. But I will not be the other man in my home. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” he wasn’t coming back. You could have done so much worse than Clark. And this man adored you. Worshiped you every morning while he kneels before your altar. “But don’t say you’re glad.”

“I am glad. But I’ll promise never to say it again. Just like I promise I won’t make you go to one of those parties ever again. Now, let’s eat some sandwiches, and then we’ll go find a playset for our children. Okay?” You nod your head. They were yours and Clark’s, Carter’s in spirit.

His hands slide around your middle, lips starting to nip around your neck, and you let out the most adorable giggle. “Clark, where are the kids?”

“Lottie is out front playing on hers and Henry’s new playset. The swings are her favorite. And I just laid Henry down for his nap,” he twists you around. Grabbing onto your waist harshly, he places you up on the counter. Planting his body in between your thighs.

Clark’s hands swipe away the baby hairs around your face, and he starts pressing soft kisses all over your face, “The kids.”

“Shh,” he whispers. His mouth moving behind your ear, following on down your neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for the life you’ve given me.”

“It’s me that should be thanking you.”

“Why’s that?” His head pops up, and those baby blue eyes bounce around your face. You smile up at him, biting your lip. “Honey, why should you thank me?”

“You saved us.”

”Us? What are you talking about, Cricket bug?”

Your hands roam up his chest, and around his neck, “You saved me and Lottie,” he starts shaking his head no, but you cup both his cheeks, grinning. “You did. You didn’t have to stay with me, with us. I was a wreck, and pregnant, and you made sure I ate, and…you loved me when I couldn’t love myself. You took care of her when I was still learning to cope. You kept us alive. And…”

“Please, stop. I did that because I love you, and her. And I love this life that we made.”

“Aww, Clark does have some sweetness, and not just need to fuck me.”

“You’re ruining this moment,” both yours and Clark’s heads look towards the door when you hear your daughter scream. “Lottie?” Jumping down off the counter, you head towards the front door. That is a scared scream.

—

Charlotte climbs up the slide ladder before going down it again. Stopping at the end of it, and she looks back at the house exasperated. Henry always had nap time when she wanted to play. Huffing, she moves over to the sandbox, starting to play with the tools while she waits on her brother’s short nap.

A man walks down the road to the house. His eyes look around the property longingly before stopping far enough in the distance to see Charlotte. Not close enough to alert her, but close to hear her voice. She sings a sweet little song while her fingers dig into the sand.

The man’s fingers run over the picket fence, it has been freshly painted, and he sighs. Walking a bit closer, the girl spots him, and gives him an odd look, “Are you here to see my mommy and daddy?”

“Daddy?”

“They’re inside,” she gives a point towards the front door, and the door is open. Letting a light breeze blow through it, but he can’t see anybody. “Mister?”

“Yeah,” he asks, squatting down to look at your daughter closer. She gives him a little giggle. “What’s so funny?”

“Why do you have a beard? My daddy and grandpa don’t do that, no sir,” she said that word again. The man gulps before sitting down beside her. Sticking his hand in the sand. He picks up a wad of it before letting it fall back in the sandbox. “You don’t talk much.”

“I didn’t even know who I was for a long time.”

Scrunching up her nose, she looks at him funny. Giving a little scoot back, and even the man timidly scoots back, too. “What’s your name?”

“Charlotte. I was named after my angel daddy’s grandma,” the man gives her a soft smile, but then she looks into his eyes, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m overwhelmed right now.”

“Let me get my daddy. He’ll know what to do.”

“No,” he grabs her tightly, and she lets out a scream. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Charlotte, don’t scream.”

“Stop! Mommy!” The man goes to stand. Dropping her arm, and he sees the door open. “Mommy!” She turns running towards you, and you and him stare at each other for far too long. Seeing a tall shadow walk up behind you, he turns to leave.

You can’t believe what you saw. Trying to calm your breathing. It was all right, and so wrong, “Carter?” The man freezes, and Clark places a hand on your hip. “Carter Baizen?” Slowly he turns around to see you, but sees his former best friend behind you. “Carter?” He nods his head, and you gasp, covering your mouth.

Visions of your life with Carter flash through your mind. The moment a sweet little boy gave you a dandelion and told you he was going to marry you. Your first kiss behind the school house while Clark kept watch for the adults. The first time Carter touched you and you felt actual sparks fly between you. That first ‘I love you’. Every moment with your best friend, and the love of your life plays like the greatest story ever told.

Placing your daughter in Clark’s arms you walk over to him. It was him. A bit grown out and rough, but it was him. The same eyes. And the way he looked at you was the exact same. “I thought you were dead.”

“I did, too,” he looks back at Clark holding Charlotte, and then down to you. “What’s he doing here?” His eyes move towards your hand, noticing the ring on your finger. “No,” he shakes his head as tears stream down his face. “I told him not to fall in love.”

“What?”

“Carter, maybe we should go inside, and have a talk,” you look back at Clark. Unsure of what you need to feel. But Carter is alive, and he’s here. Clark turns with Charlotte still in his arms, but leaves you with your husband? Former husband?

“Cricket, what happened?”

“Life. Come on,” you aren’t sure what this means. Aren’t sure what you should think or react. But your Carter was right beside you. Following you into the house that you made a home with his best friend.

Getting into the living room with Clark now in Carter’s chair and Charlotte hugged up against him. “I’m sorry, bud. I couldn’t keep my promise,” hearing a creaking door, Carter’s eyes look down the hallway, and sees a little barefoot boy running towards you. Outstretched arms and calling for his mommy.

“This is my son, Henry Carter Kent,” Carter’s eyes slowly close. Swallowing the bile that threatens to rise up his throat. “Cricket, we can’t have this conversation with Lottie.”

”What comver — comversay — saytion…why can’t you talk in front of me?”

“Don’t make me do this,” Clark stares up at you shaking his head. Hoping you remembered the last ten minutes over right now. While you had happy memories flowing through your mind, he felt like his happy moments were being stole from him. “She won’t understand.”

“Tell me!” Charlotte grabs his cheeks, trying to get him to look at her, “Daddy, I wanna know.”

“What are we supposed to do with them?” Your words come out stiff. If you allow all the emotions to pour out you might just collapse on the floor. Everything is so overwhelming right now, and you don’t know what to think. What to do. What you had to do. Was yours and Clark’s marriage now a lie? What did this mean for your family? What did you want to do?

Carter was your everything. And then life happened and you settled into your new something. Yours and Clark’s relationship could be volatile at times. Things never flowed as easily as they did with Carter. But you two fought to make them work. Because you wanted to. Or did you just not want to be alone? And Clark was there accepting you when other men would turn away.

“Your folks can get them. Don’t make my daughter try and understand this,” Carter clears his throat, and Clark shakes his head no, pointing at him, “Don’t. She is mine. Cricket, honey, call your folks. I don’t want the kids to be part of this until…please, just don’t.”

“Can you give — just a moment. Clark’s right. Okay? They’ll be right here,” Carter nods. Having a seat on the couch in front of Clark, glaring. That was supposed to be his chair. His daughter. His home. His family.

His wife.

His life.

His everything.

It was all stolen from him. It should have been Clark.

Carter

Clark

A/N: Yes, this will be a choose your own adventure. So who do you choose? Carter or Clark? What is the right decision? is the decision for you or your children?

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @missus-shadowsinger @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @charmed-asylum @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @mrsevans90 @slowdownbeforeyouregretit @suunnnieeeee

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sunflowerharrington · 2 days

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stwg prompt (27/4/23) - buzzed hair/shaved head

wc: 1076

🩵

Wayne hasn’t been feeling too confident in his looks, lately. Usually he doesn’t care, but when he looks at Eddie, he wishes he still had hair like that. Every so often in Hawkins a new person gets the “hair” nickname. Currently it’s Steve Harrington, Eddie’s friend — or more than a friend, Wayne’s not too sure — and it reminded him of when that used to happen in Tennessee too. When Wayne was in highschool, he was “the hair.”

He’s surprised he hasn’t died yet from the fumes of hairspray finally catching up to him, but the smoking will do that someday. All the products he used to use, all the times at school when the girls would come to him for hair techniques… All of that is gone now, and so is his hair.

A slight sob catches in his throat as he runs his fingers over what’s left of his hair. What’s left of his hair… Nothing much. It’s gray and white and barely there now. But he can’t let go of his highschool days. How the hell is he supposed to go back out into the dating scene without his long, luscious locs to help him?

He hasn’t dated since then, hasn’t had the courage or the confidence. Even when he still had his hair, he couldn’t bring himself to ask a girl out.

Some people can take up addictions to help with loss and grief, but if he were to tell anyone he’s a smoker because it helps him deal with the stress of losing his hair and not being “attractive” anymore, they’d laugh at him, make a joke out of it. There’s only so many jeers and snide comments he can take before he drives back home and cries himself to sleep.

He’s been doing that a lot lately, hoping his pillow muffles it enough so Eddie can’t hear. But Eddie can’t exactly hear anything outside of his room when he’s blasting that goddamn metal. Not that it’s bad or anything, Wayne likes it too, sometimes, but only when it’s not at an eardrum-shattering volume.

Today is the worst of it, the worst he’s felt in a long ass time about his looks. But there’s no point in buying a wig or trying to grow it out again because anyone who knows him already knows what he looks like without it. So there’s no point, and he won’t bother.

But maybe having hair might help him feel better about himself? No, it takes too long to grow out and he sure as hell knows nothing’s gonna grow on the top of his head anymore, maybe the sides, but that’ll look ridiculous.

So he doesn’t bother.

It’s only in the evening when he’s starting to feel a little better and has stopped crying. But not for long… because as he walks to the bathroom, the sound of a hair trimmer buzzes to life and someone’s laughing quietly to themselves in the bathroom.

Eddie.

It’s Eddie.

Half of his— what the fuck?

“What in the goddamn hell are you doing, son?” Wayne exclaims, watching as another few strands of Eddie’s hair fall into the sink. “Wha— Eddie! Put that damn thing down!”

Eddie does, in fact, not put that damn thing down and continues shaving. Strand after strand, his smile grows wider, and he looks at Wayne’s reflection in the mirror.

“Hair grows back,” Eddie says with a half smile. “I did it for you.”

“Why?” Wayne can't stop the tears from falling now, they gather in his lower eyelashes and drop down onto his cheeks.

“Because I want you to know that you’ve still got it. With or without hair. You’re a handsome man, and if anyone disagrees they’re obviously blind. You don’t need hair to be handsome and I don’t either.”

“You’re crazy,” Wayne says, laughing a little.

“On the contrary, I’m a genius,” Eddie says with another smile. “And I’m also doing this to help my friend, Jane. A bad man shaved her head and she hasn’t been feeling confident, says she looks ugly without hair. But she doesn’t. You look handsome without hair, she looks beautiful without hair, and Jim Hopper looks hotter than ever without hair.”

“Boy, don’t you dare tell me you’ve still got a thing for Jim.”

Eddie stays silent. Wayne frowns.

“What?” Eddie says, holding his hands up. “You gotta admit he’s hot.”

Wayne tuts. “He’s old enough to be your old man!”

“So?” Eddie smirks. “I’m legal, he’s legal…”

“He’s also married!”

Eddie gasps. “Jim and Joyce got married?! Why wasn’t I invited?!”

“I don’t think they’d want you jumping up on the tables at the reception, son,” Wayne replies, turning off the machine for him.

“I don’t— Oh… You’ve got a point.”

“I’ve got a point and no hair.”

“Me too!”

“No, I was right, you were wrong, son. I have the point.”

Eddie shrugs. “Alright, fine. You win. But he’s still ho—”

“No, not finishing this conversation,” Wayne interrupts, backing away out the door. “Be with someone your own age, like Harrington’s kid. I see the way you look at him and he looks at you—”

“And I’m not having that conversation,” Eddie replies.

Wayne snickers, starting to feel like himself again.

“No. Wayne, no. I don’t… I don’t like him like that! We’re just friends.”

“Mhm mhm.”

“Wayne!” Eddie whines. “Stop!”

“Son,” Wayne says, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Just try.”

“Okay fine, I’ll only do it if you ask Claudia on a date.”

“You want Dustin to be your brother, huh?” Wayne’s smiling again, so is Eddie.

“If I ever have an argument with Steve over who Dustin’s favorite is I wanna be able to say it’s obviously me ‘cause I’m his brother,” Eddie says. “But no, that’s not the only reason. You wanna find love, right? At least try. The worst she can say is no.”

“I’ve got better things to be doing than—”

“Remember the deal? You said—”

“Alright, fine!” Wayne throws his hands up. And he wonders where Eddie gets his dramatics from… “I’ll ask her on a date.”

Eddie fist pumps the air. “I love you!” He barrels Wayne into a hug.

Wayne smiles again, and finally, he feels like maybe he can still be handsome without his hair. He’s gonna remember this day for the rest of his life, maybe even add a part about it into his wedding speech if things with Claudia go well.

#stranger things #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #a litta bitta steddie and wayne x claudia

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juggalomary · 2 days

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did yall miss me. i hope you did bc im returning with a bang. anyways here’s this. warnings: mcd, child abuse. up on ao3 within a few days

A new day, a new disaster, that’s what soap would say. He was always an optimist. Never heard saying anything about how they were likely going to die on suicide missions. Even though it was so valiantly obvious. He has to be watching from his overwatch position right now.

Ghost was glad to have him on his 6. They’d been switching places more often, soap on overwatch and sniping the people trying to end his life. He never called out to him about these people. Sometimes they’d just end up dead.

He always knows it was soap though, who else could do that so accurately. Soap was the best of the best. He’s not going to let ghost die. He’s not that selfish, never was.

Soap was the best of the best, most morally sound. He held his religion above many temptations. Infil was filled with chatter most of the time, except for soap, running his thumb over rosaries and whispering to a power long forgotten by the other men.

Exfil, a shell shocked soap would sit silently, or wail for not his mother, or ghost, but for someone, god maybe, to end his suffering. He was already going to hell, that’s what a priest told him at 15. He confessed and was told his punishment.

Never repeating that confession to anyone else, in fear of rejection. At 16 he carried his older cousin's casket in between the pews of that same church. He got home and told to man up. He turned 17 and enlisted.

That led to right now, soap covering his 6 and ghost shouting for help. A bullet lodged into his spine, blood gushing from the wound. His screams would’ve revealed his position if he cared anymore. There was no way he would get out of this. He just needed to get to a position he could radio to exfil from.

The enemy must’ve heard his screaming for Johnny, there was no response from soaps end. He must’ve been comprised.

The thundering footsteps we’re getting louder needed to move.

He pulled his hands above his head, chin resting on the ground. Looking up from under his eyebrows he saw about 20 meters until cover.

Pushing his arm to unbend he grabbed for purchase on the grass. He needed to pull himself forward to get to cover. His legs proving useless he grabbed a handful of grass and pulls. It rips.

He keeps trying to pull himself forward, but with every futile grasp comes a handfull of dirt and roots. The footsteps grow louder. He can’t die like this.

He screams in pain and frustration. Johnny is comprised, he’s comprised. It’s a solo mission, he needs to call exfil there’s no price here to scoop his useless self off the floor. He could cry. He won’t cry.

He grabbed a rock and pulled himself forward a foot. That’s okay, he’ll to cover soon. He’ll stay awake, he’ll stay strong. He will not cry.

Another idea comes to mind. He pulls 2 knives from his kit and stabs one into the dirt to use as a sort of handle.

One foot at a time he drags himself to the tree line. Sitting up to access his radio he leans on a tree.

He calls laswell. He needs exfil. He needs to leave. He’s losing blood, but he can’t feel it, he’ll pull through.

His eggs were twisted in horrible ways, he didn’t feel that pain, but he also couldn’t move them. He’ll be okay, he can just rest his eyes for a few minutes. His eyes were far to tired.

Nothing from soap. Nothing from laswell, there’s no point in staying awake, he’ll wake up to the radio transmission.

His eyes fall open again.

“-nom, SIMON! COME IN!” A young woman was on the other side of his radio.

“Mom? Mom I’m scared, I don’t want you to leave me here with him again.” It seemed he was crying.

“Simon who’s there, I’m coming, we need to know where you are.”

“Mommy I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m in the woods mom. Please don’t let him find me. He had a bat mom.” Drearily weeping through the radio was not something that elete SAS lieutenants do. But his mom was back, he missed her so much.

She tried her damn best, especially since he was stuck with his bummy ass father. She tended to his wounds whenever she was sober. She took beatings for him when he was too young to know he’s a man and he should be taking it. She wiped his tears whenever he came crying. Somehow it wasn’t enough.

He still had his tooth knocked out, he still was given drugs before he realized what they were. He still had to see that sex worker die. He still has to kiss that snake.

Haven forgotten about that snake until right now the hissing in his ear was not of any relief. It should’ve, it would mean his radio was working. His hands were too heavy to really hit the button to turn it on though.

Tears were not allowed though. The snake was in his ear, not biting his lip, his mom was talking to him. And Johnny would be back soon.

“Ghost, Simon, do you copy.”

“Mom I’m not alone anymore”

Crunching could he heard, a dark figure approaching him. He had a pistol. He shot the gun, but the bullet shot right next to his ear. He let himself relax, foolishly.

The man in front of him was his father, but his face was skewed. One part of it was his father, and the other half was of price. The side with price reached out and told him to calm down and stay awake. Then price was gone and it was just his father.

He was screaming, not Simon, Simon would recognize who was screaming and it wasn’t himself. A blow landed on his head, he saw it but didn’t feel it. His father was standing there, his mouth was moving but he wasn’t saying anything. Then he hissed like a snake. Mouth open he saw the snake that bit him all those years ago, he started screaming for real this time.

The snaked closed is mouth and then said something in Spainish. This man was none other than a cackling manual roba. Scalpel in one hand he laughed. The scar on his ribs flared up as he was called every insult under the sun. He was told to not fear as, it would feel so nice soon.

Turning his head out of the grasp roba has on his face he was met with Vernon’s rotting skeletal face. There was dirt in his eyes, ears, mouth, nose. He was buried.

“GHOST!”

“Mom? Save me.”

“Ghost who’s with you right now.”

He opens his eyes, praying he can see at the end of this all. Scratched corneas would end his career, and his career is all that he had left.

In front of him, soap was sitting, thumbing his rosaries and mumbling a prayer. Without greeting he looks up. “Simon, I’ve missed you.”

“Ghost. I repeat, who is with you?”

“Johnny. Bye mommy, I’ll see you soon.”

With his final goodbye to the only person to truly love him, he can rest.

“Simon, I loved you too.” A Scottish lilt was the last thing he heard before the world went silent. He laid his head on the tree and closed his eyes. He hoped that Johnny was in the next 7 minutes. And price and Gaz. Maybe he can finally see them again too. Laswell will join them at some point. Then they can meet her wife. Maybe she’ll have kids after retirement.

He hoped he was happy.

Ghost was found 2 days later. Soaps rosary in his pocket and tear tracks running down his face wiping off the eye black.

Task force 141 was together, earthly and in spirit. Buried in the national cemetery one next to the other.

#fanfic #ghoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ao3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #ao3 crosspost #kate laswell #agnst #heavy angst #main character death #don’t like don’t read

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creepedverse · 3 days

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hauntedhappeningsfarnbury.com/forums/13666

RedHero: Hey guys! I’ve been passing by that antique store on Dahlia Ave on my way to work recently and I keep seeing this doll in the display. I have like… soooo many questions. I swear every time I pass by I feel like she’s… aware? Of me? I probably sound crazy! I know! But every time I pass by I just get the heebie jeebies!!! I figured this forum would be the best place to ask… what do you guys think is going on? Am I just being paranoid? Lololol

GhostlyAmity: Oh that fucking doll… I’ve heard some things about her. But, even as a believer in the paranormal, I have a hard time believing them. I’ve heard everything from she’s SEVERELY possessed to she’s just creepy looking. In my opinion, it’s the latter. Some stories I’ve heard just sound completely impossible, so for your own peace of mind, just assume it’s your human instinct, uncanny valley feelings creeping you out and carry on with your day.

SomethingUNseen: Dude you should tooooootally buy that doll! What’s the worst that could happen LOLOLOL XD

-> RedHero reply to GhostlyAmity: What stories have you heard about her? Even if you don’t believe them, I’m still curious about what people have said. And do you know what kind of doll she is? Why does she look so… lifelike like that?

-> GhostlyAmity reply to RedHero: Just from word of mouth, I’ve heard she’s been the cause of multiple heart attacks for the old folks that take her in, people have claimed they see her moving and the like. But then there’s also the incident that happened a few years back… Either way, the reason you’re actually getting creeped out is because it’s a mourning doll. Back in the 1800s, parents of dead children would make dolls that resembled their passed loved ones and keep those around like they were still alive. Usually this was done for newborns/babies, but I guess whoever the doll was made of was a special case.

-> RedHero reply to GhostlyAmity: GEEZ! They can sell something like that in an antique store!?

-> GraveMisstake reply to RedHero: As long as it was donated, and like… cleaned properly… it’s fair game? Yeah it feels weird, but people donate teddy bears with ashes in them all the time so, this isn’t out of the realm of possibility lol

-> RedHero reply to GraveMisstake: I guess… So that’s why she’s so… detailed? Also do you know what the ‘incident’ was? Is that something I should know about?

-> GhostlyAmity reply to RedHero: I’ll tell you about it, but it really isn’t connected to the doll.

GhostlyAmity: Basically, a few years back three teenagers were found dead in the forest, off the waterfall if you know where that is. They had tons of alcohol in their system and it was deemed a complete accident. They probably just wanted to go swimming and were too uncoordinated to actually, ya know, swim.

-> RedHero reply to GhostlyAmity: You’re right that doesn’t sound connected at all… How do people pin that on a doll?

-> GhostlyAmity reply to RedHero: Apparently, some people in town said they saw them carrying the doll around in their drunken stupor. And then when their bodies were found, there was no trace of her.

GhostlyAmity: Actually, she hadn’t been in the store for a long time after that. I’ve just seen her in there more recently. The store owners probably didn’t want people looking for her after a rumor like that comes out. Bad for business, in my opinion. So they probably kept her in the back or something.

-> RedHero reply to GhostlyAmity: Huh… Yeah that’s weird. Anyways, thanks for the info! Curiosity was just getting the better of me today when I passed by her again! Now that I know some lore, she doesn’t seem too daunting anymore lolol!!!

#Blythe Waldrop #creepedverse au #creepedverse #crv #crv blythe #creepypasta au #creepypasta oc #zwiebel art

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harlowtales · 2 days

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Y/N feels trapped with a baby on the way and Jack distances himself to think

18 Plus Only - Adult Themes and Content

Nobody knew you were pregnant yet. You asked Jack to wait to even tell his family as it had just passed 3months and you didn’t want to jinx it. He was being super paranoid not letting you do anything, and barely go anywhere. He was hyper about germs and the cleaning lady had to be extra careful about how she disinfected every surface.

“Baby come on wash your fucking hands” Jack said one day exasperated and whipping out wipes to wipe your fingers like a child.

“Jack I can lick my fingers I’m at home.” You shot back with your mouth full of popcorn. “Hey when are we going out tonight?” You asked casually assuming you would be going to The Hub with your fiancée and asking to see what time you should get ready. Pregnancy was already making you more tired than usual and you wanted to take a nap before you left.

“Uhh WE?” Jack asked you back

“Yes. When are we leaving?” You repeated

“Baby.” Jack said calmly and sat down looking you in the eye “You won’t be going.”

“What??” You fumed “What the fu…” you firmly clamped your mouth as Jack was trying to not swear around the future baby.

He shot you a disapproving glance. “Please babe, stay home from now on k? Can’t have you in the mix anymore.” Jack explained and thought that would be that with a kiss on your forehead.

“Oh the fuck I’m not going. I’m not sitting home pregnant while you go out and girls seeing you ALONE?? Are you mental?” You raged.

“You don’t go on tour with me and I behave” Jack said to his credit. “You trust me I know you do. You just want to party.”

“No…um not true.” You said as he caught you in your true motives. You loved being out and hanging with everyone. “C’mon baby…Pleaaaassee” You begged flashing your megawatt smile and fluttering your eyelashes.

“That ain’t gone work.” Jack said sternly

“What about this.” You said going down on your knees and starting to pull down his sweatpants.

“Ok baby stop. You’d suck dick to get to go?” Jack said laughing.

“I’m going to be trapped for months after the baby is born.” You said pouting to which Jack finally relented.

“Ok mama you can go.” He said “But I’ll take a rain check on that sloppy toppy, I got some stuff to do before we leave.”

You took a nap and woke up around 6PM to get ready to go. Excitedly you texted your friends Jack actually said yes. You were only slightly showing with a hint of a bump. Most people had no idea you were pregnant, and you weren’t a heavy drinker so the fact that you turned down alcohol the last few weeks didn’t raise any eyebrows either. Urban knew and a couple of Jack’s friends who did security for him when he went out. This was to ensure you had extra protection.

You put your hair up in a ponytail with a longer extension for fun and put on a jumpsuit that wasn’t too tight to give the secret away. To go to the Hub you didn’t have to dress up. Jack thought you looked adorable which got him going even more than you looking ultra sexy.

“Mmmm” he said looking you up and down and pulling you close. “Can I jump in your jumper with you?”

“You passed on a blow job remember?” You reminded him as he kissed you.

Just then your driver and security buzzed up, it was time to go have fun one last time.

The energy of the club is what you needed. You dodged Jack and his friends successfully until the club started getting full. Jack sent Timo to hunt you down and bring you to where he was heading to behind “the wall”. “The wall” was the literal wall Jack’s friends formed in front of him when he went out to clubs so no random people could get too close to him.

Unfortunately for you who had just been convinced by your friends (who didn’t know you were 3 mos pregnant) to dance on the bar and you took the challenge, not because you were drunk but because you just wanted one last crazy thing to do.

“Whooo!! Go Y/N!!” They encouraged you as you twerked a little sticking your tongue out with plans to come down right away but Timo caught you and Jack spotted you texting Timo furiously “BRO TELL HER TO GET DAFUQ DOWN!” Jack texted in all angry caps.

You were in the process of coming down when you met Timo face to face as you touched the ground with his help. “Y/N! You are in trouble young lady.” He said sternly “Come with me.” He said taking you by the arm and whisking you off to where Jack was waiting beet red. You looked back at your friends who felt guilty for egging you on.

“Don’t” Jack said turning his head away as you went up on your tipi toes for a kiss. “I can’t even talk to you right now.”

“It’s called having fun old man.” You snapped “ I went up there on a dare for 2 mins”

“Can you act like a mother for 2 fucking seconds?” Jack angrily whispered. People nearby were trying to hear what was going on but fortunately the thundering bass drowned him out.

“Maybe I would act more like a mom if I wasn’t trapped!” You shot back hurting Jack deeply. All he had been doing was protecting you. He said nothing in return and sipped on his water to calm down. He reasoned you were being emotional given you were pregnant.

“Ok fine. 2 can play this ignoring game.” You said to him to which he pretended not to hear knowing it drove you nuts.

“Ok girly let’s go to the bathroom.” Urban’s girlfriend said taking you away to talk about what was going on with you. It was not like you to be so irresponsible. For once she agreed with Jack. “What’s going on mama?” Azura said kindly hugging you.

“He tells me what to do CONSTANTLY!” You said bursting into tears.

“He does always tell you what to do. Jack is like a stern father, I don’t know how you stand it.” Azura said trying to influence you to jump to Jack’s defence. Her and Urban had just got back together and she didn’t want to see you go through fighting with Jack while pregnant.

“Jack is not a stick in the mud” You said in his defence which Azura knew you would. “He is just trying to…oh I see what you’re doing. Nice one, making me realize my man just wants the best for me and his baby and maybe dancing on a bar is a bad idea.”

“Bingo!! You catch on quick” Azura said sarcastically making you laugh.

“Ok girl let me go apologize to my man.” You said feeling horrible for how you had spoken to Jack.

He was vibing in a corner not talking to anyone. The way you had acted had him down. He had fulfilled his obligation to appear at the club so he was just waiting for you to get out of the bathroom so the both of you could go home. He should have stuck to his guns and made you stay back. Now gossip blogs were going to be reporting about your 5 secs dancing on the bar and the obvious argument the two of you had. When they did the math months later and found out you were pregnant when you were up there, it’s going to be a mini-disaster.

“Ready? We’re leaving early, I have an early morning.” Jack lied.

“Baby…Jackman” You said reaching up to turn his sulking face to yours “I will never do anything like that again. I love you”

“Babe…no come on” He said avoiding your kiss as you reached around his neck to pull him down to you. He was really irritated and sad. It took you by surprise that you couldn’t work your magic and smooth it over. Urban and Azura exchanged concerned glances as you and Jack made your exit.

He was silent all the way home which thankfully wasn’t far from the condo. It was so awkward. When you got back you didn’t push him to talk to you and got ready for bed. Usually by now you guys would be joking again already. Jack didn’t come to bed with you. He sat in his studio room listening to a beat on loop with a pen and pad out. You tossed and turned while you heard the muffled beat through the bedroom walls. When you tipi toed into the studio you found him laying on the floor staring at the ceiling like he often did when he felt depression setting in. There was a whole bunch of scrunched up balls of paper that he had missed the waste paper basket with.

You said nothing and laid down on the floor in the same position next to him. At first he didn’t notice you and then glanced over but maintained his silence. You took a chance and reached out to hold his hand. He took it slowly and held it gently giving you a sense of relief. “Nice beat.” You said quietly

“Thanks. Clay made it.” He said expressionless

“Writer’s block?” You asked referencing all the crumpled up paper on the floor.

“Um sort of” He said turning to you propped up on his elbow “Do you believe in destiny baby?”

“To a degree. I’m not sure.” You said honestly turning to him. “Why?”

“I dreamt you and then I met you.” He said with a whimsical smile taking you by surprise and giving you tingles. “And now you have a part of me inside of you. We’re bonded forever now. Do you understand that means everything to me?”

“Not until now. I…I have felt trapped and sometimes…replaceable.” You said blinking to hold back tears coming.

“I could never do better than you.” Jack said moving closer and kissing you passionately. “Will you just trust that I always mean to do right by you?”

“Yes Jack I will.” You nodded as tears started to fall down your cheeks and he wiped them.

“I will always be here for this moment and wipe every tear as it falls.” He vowed in a near whisper. That’s it!! He said suddenly making you jump. “That’s the song! I’m unstuck! Thank you baby.” Jack said kissing you roughly on the head and leaping up to grab his pen and pad.

“Happy to help.” You said sarcastically “Don’t stay up too late.” You said yawning and heading to bed.

“Oh I’m coming to get some don’t worry” he said looking at your ass in your pyjama pants as you walked away.

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice

#jack harlow #fanfic #romance #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow fanfic #dramatic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x reader

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glutengoblin · 2 days

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Too Sweet (Part 2) - Sebastian Sallow X Reader

A/N: Apologies for the delay! As a Ravenclaw dealing with finals, I spent waaaaay too long in the library this past week. Here's part 2!

This story is inspired by "Too Sweet" by Hozier, which I have been playing on repeat for days at this point.

Also, if you'd like to be friends, please reach out! I would love to get to know you!

Summary: Sebastian has a problem, and that problem is his best friend. She is simply too sweet for him, and can't get her out of his head. Will he do something about his feelings, or choose to continue to keep them a secret? (She/Her Pronouns, House Neutral)

Word Count: 1.7 K

Ominis stared at his friend with surprise, trying to determine if he was actually meant to be taken seriously. Sebastian laughed at his expression- despite the fact that his stomach felt more queasy than it ever had, he settled on his decision.

“I mean, with graduation coming up, it's now or never, correct?” With that, Sebastian downed the last of his butterbeer in one fell swoop and stood up. Thankfully, years of downing fire whiskey after quidditch games had steeled him against the effects of alcohol, so for the most part, he was stable.

He turned around and surveyed the party, which had grown exponentially in rowdiness. Poppy was toppled over with laughter at something Garreth had said, with Natty by right by her side. Imelda actually stood on a table, chanting the Holyhead Harpies main cheer (apparently, she had just been accepted to the team that day). Even Amit appeared drunk, as he tried to explain the merits of astrology to Everett, who looked surprisingly okay with the topic of conversation.

When his eyes finally fell on Y/N, he grew a bit hot under the collar. She was sitting on a table, swinging her legs back and forth in her gleeful way. What Sebastian didn’t like was the cause of that glee, which was Andrew Larson, clearly telling that most fascinating joke. He was leaned ever so close to her, in a way that was awfully suggestive- and Sebastian hated it.

Sebastian stalked over, trying to flash his most charming smile, even though his anger was beginning to seep through. Truly, he didn’t adore the idea of Y/N being with some other than him.

As he approached, Y/N flashed him the most glorious smile. “Sebastian! I was hoping you’d come join. Andrew was just telling me about a new quidditch move he’s developing. I think its a brilliant idea.”

Andrew turned to look at Sebastian, his smile falling a bit as he examined his impression. “Y/N, I’m not sure its exactly information I want a Slytherin, of all people, to be privy too.” Andrew let out a chuckle, clearly trying to play it off as a joke.

Sebastian’s smile faded to a scowl, as he took a step closer, evidently sizing Andrew up. “And what exactly is wrong with being a Slytherin?” He quirked his head to the side, giving his best lost puppy expression, fanning ignorance to the fact that he knew exactly what Andrew had met.

Y/N threw a worried look between them, scooting off the table. “Hey, guys I don’t think that-” Andrew cut her off by giving her a hand, and giving Sebastian a scowl that rivaled his own.

“Perhaps I should clarify my statement Sallow. Its not so much that you’re Slytherin, as it is the fact that you’re you-” Sebastian gritted his teeth, clearly gearing up for the altercation that as about to ensue.

“Then what about me specifically-”

“I just think you’re an untrustworthy person. I mean, constantly up in the middle of the night, the way you’ve acted since your sister left- even she seems to think that you’re not worth associating with anymore-” Though Sebastian wasn’t proud of his next move, he was even less proud of what occurred after.

Sebastian lunged, socking Andrew with a fist straight to the eye. Stumbling back, Andrew drew his wand and threw a cast that Sebastian took straight to the chest, causing him to go flying back against the tables.

A hushed silence fell over the room as every onlooker watch the bar fight unfold in front of them. Sebastian lunged and Andrew, tackling him to ground as Andrew cried out. They rolled around on the floor, trying land more hits until Y/N finally drew her wand.

In an instant, the two men were floating in mid air, tethered in what Sebastian knew to be ancient magic. As soon as the shock from being lifted wore off, he took note of her expression. Y/N looked pissed- more than he had ever seen her.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she shot them both icy glares, before finally speaking. “ENOUGH! You two need to promise to stop acting like petulant children, and then I’ll put you down.” Evidently, both of them knew what was good for them as they nodded sheepishly. Lowering them both to the ground, Y/N then approached Sebastian. “You- Come with me.” Grabbing his upper arm, she lead him out onto the streets of Hogsmeade and to the nearest floo flame, muttering all the while.

Thankfully for his sake, she waited until they had arrived at her room of requirement before she lost her mind at him. “What the hell were you thinking Sebastian! Punching Larson? You’re already on thin ice with Weasley about the time you got in a brawl with Garreth after potions, what made you think it was a good idea to try a repeat!” Sebastian scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I wouldn’t have punched the git if he hadn’t said those things about Anne. I mean come on Y/N, you heard what he said.” Y/N turned away, rummaging through one of her potions stations as she muttered to herself. Eventually, she returned with a cloth and deep blue potion, which she gently dabbed onto the wound on his forehead.

“I know Sebastian- Andrew was completely out of line. But still, violence is never the answer to your problems.” Sebastian snorted at that.

“That’s rich coming from you of all people. The girl who has probably killed more goblins than most aurors.” He retorted, gaining him a slap on the arm that made him yelp. She gave him a glare worth of rivaling Professor Sharp’s.

“You know what I mean Sebastian. I don’t know what I would do if you got expelled, and given your last insurrection you’re closer than ever to achieving that goal.” Sebastian let out a chuckle, pushing her hand away from his forehead.

“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” That statement only earned him a shake of her head and scowl. Honestly, he found it weirdly attractive when she angry- it was so unlike her normal sweet expression.

Y/N let out a sigh of relief as his wound finally began to close up. Sebastian could have sworn that he imagined the next words out of her mouth, because that would be a more reasonable, logical explanation. However, he most certainly didn’t.

“Only about you…”

“What do you mean by that?” Their faces were rather close at this point, likely from her trying to ensure that his wound was properly tended to. Sebastian, however, let himself hope for a second that it was because she longed to close the distance as much as he did.

She let out another sigh, as she searched his eyes for the answer he was hoping to hear. “I suppose you could say… I care about you more than I really do for anyone else.” Sebastian eyebrows shot up at her admittance - could it possibly be that she returned his feelings? While still not sure, he had promised Ominis that he would finally do something about his pesky crush. Now seemed as good of a time as any.

“I-I… I care for you more than I do anyone else too… in a romantic sense-” Sebastian admitted, his hand traveling up to her cheek as he waited in quiet an anticipation. “Sorry if that was too rushed, or not romantic enough. I just don’t really know how else to say it.”

Her voice quivered a bit as the full weight of his words hit her, cause a wild blush to travel over her cheeks. “Really? You-You have feelings for me?”

“Really. Would it be alright if I-” Sebastian’s request was cut off as her lips crashed into his. Gone was the girl who had been so delicate with his injured self mere seconds ago. Instead, she was replaced with a someone that seemed to want this as desperately as him, as her hands found purchase in his hair, pulling him further into her.

Sebastian could swear his heart was exploding in his chest. The fact that after everything that had transpired, everything since 5th year, that she still wanted him- he was astounded. It was right then and there that he thanked Salazar for this chance, and swore that he would try his absolute best not to mess this up.

Her lips against his tasted sweet in a way he couldn’t quite describe- not sickening, but rather addicting. He knew right then he was screwed- falling even harder for her instantly became inevitable.

Deciding to jump head first into the intoxication, he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her ever closer, pressing her smaller frame against his. She responded with a whimper that drove him absolutely mad, as he resounded to make her make that noise again.

Much to Sebastian’s dismay, they eventually had to pull apart for air. Staring at each other in shock, he gently brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, examining her eyes for any sign of regret. He was thankful to find none. After so long of just being friends, they had entered uncharted territory. The night felt new in an odd way, the excitement in the air was palpable.

Eventually Sebastian couldn’t bare it any longer, and grasped her hand in his. Running his thumb over her knuckles, he shot her a small smile. “Would it be too forward to ask you on a date at this point?”

Y/N let out a small chuckle, shooting him a sheepish smile. “Not at all, quite honestly I’ve been waiting two years for you to ask.” Sebastian’s cheeks flushed, as he quietly damned himself for not taking action much, much sooner. She broke his contemplative silence, urging her to look back up at her. “When did you want to-”

Sebastian squeezed her hand a bit tighter, considering for a moment. “Well, how about tomorrow? Preferably after 10 though, you know how I feel about my sleep.”

“That sounds fine. But don’t worry, eventually I’ll fix you. You’ll become a morning person if its the last thing I do before we graduate.”

Sebastian’s smile was wider than the whole sky as he leaned in, pressing another kiss against her lips.

“You keep telling yourself that.”

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fluff #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader fluff

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writingonleaves · 13 hours

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were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future.

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior.

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise.

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it.

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly?

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us.

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right?

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days, I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when.

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag.

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck)

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other.

Yet we still hurt each other.

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did.

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional.

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down.

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better.

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured.

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for?

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always.

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to.

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you.

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you.

I do.

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too.

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend.

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen.

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now.

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too.

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday.

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago.

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered.

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this.

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed.

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore.

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween.

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there.

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me.

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond.

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known.

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd.

I looked for you in every crowd for years.

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me?

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months.

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then.

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that.

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me.

Or maybe not.

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized.

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best.

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important.

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome.

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on.

I hope you're moving on.

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight.

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met.

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up.

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day.

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door.

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that.

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles.

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t.

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city.

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster.

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city.

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too.

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee.

Jeremy walks into the book store.

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red.

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her.

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything.

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways.

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with.

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same.

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out.

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all.

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence.

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does.

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..”

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?”

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan,

i still love you too.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours,

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused.

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

��I know. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl writing #hockey blurb #hockey writing #boston bruins #jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman blurb #jeremy swayman writing #jeremy swayman fic #jeremy swayman fanfiction #jeremy swayman x ofc #jeremy swayman x oc #jeremy swayman x reader

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breakerwhiskey · 3 days

Text

200 - TWO HUNDRED

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

Okay, I think I’m—I’m ready to read this note now. Beyond just the date and the first few lines.

“April 6th, 1975

Abigail—

I’m okay. If you do find this, I have a feeling you’re going to have questions about the blood. You always have questions about everything. It’s one of your best qualities and also one of your most infuriating. Though I suppose I should be grateful you’ve been dogged in your pursuit of the truth. Maybe this can be repaired.”

I don’t know if she means the jacket or…

“It’s chicken blood. I am not as capable as you when it comes to butchery.”

That’s…that’s as far as I got after finding the note. The relief hit me like a freight train but…

I don’t want to be capable of butchery. I know that’s not what you meant but I…

Anyway. Moving forward.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach our meeting in time, but after that man came to the house, I went to ground. I heard a car in the distance a few times over the last few days, but I couldn’t be sure it was you.

I got the car you left me. And the radio. I’ve been transmitting out regularly but I’m going to guess that you haven’t heard me. That’s what I’m choosing to believe anyway, given I’ve sent you more than a few messages over the months, with no reply. And, yet, somehow, I’ve heard many of your transmissions—not all, and they are very often full of static and breaks in the signal, but you have reached our garage even from Los Angeles.”

She crossed out something here. I think it says…(crinkle of paper) "I thought about joining you” but I can’t read the rest. Goddammit, Harry…

“Do you remember that one diner that we went to every month for all of ’69? I know that you’ve been to a lot of roadside diners in the last ten months, so maybe they’ve run together in the way that they’re almost purpose built to do. The one down the street, the one we could walk to—we haven’t been back in ages, because I got spooked the one time the neon sign flickered back to life, but we’d carry thermoses of tea and pretend that we were going out for a morning cup, because the monotony of our existence was threatening to destroy us both.

Whether you remember it or not, that diner has a working radio. I believe it too spooked me when there was a power surge, even if it was just static. In any case, I’m no longer at that diner, but I was briefly and heard several of your transmissions. There was no way to speak back to you, as it wasn’t that kind of radio, but it was picking up your signal just the same.

I’m not in the state anymore. I threw the jacket from the car as I drove out of town, a final ditch attempt to contact you. I had a feeling you would take it with you if you found it, despite the state of it, and just had to hope that you would find these pages sewn inside the lining.

I’ll keep transmitting, so we can find a time and place to meet, but there are conversations I don’t want to have over the airwaves, or in a letter. So I’m going to give you instructions now, that I’ll keep repeating on the radio, in the hopes that you’ve found this even if you can’t hear me.

Do you remember the show I did up north at that gallery near the water? You’d been in Provincetown with Francis for a few days and he drove the both of you up for the opening. It wasn’t a particularly short journey, but manageable. You both stayed the weekend, at that little B&B that shares its name with one of the planets.

I don’t think you thought very much of my show. It was one of my more abstract periods. I know you never cared much for that style, but I do have to wonder if you’d have been more generous to it if you’d known what inspired it. Then again—”

And she crossed that out too…

“It was still nice having you and Francis there. I always wondered why you’d agreed to come. You seemed so unhappy to be there. It makes me wonder if my demeanor made you think that I was unhappy to have you there. That was never my intent.

I’m headed there now. I think you left me with enough fuel to make the journey, and I want to get somewhere familiar that isn’t terribly close to where we've been. Meet me there.

I don’t want to write the name down, for fear that someone else will find this jacket and this note, but I’m going to assume you remember.

I remembered. The place where we had the picnic. I remembered. And I always knew that you were winding me up about Rothko, but I liked arguing with you. It’s why I never told you that I like Hank Williams. At least, I learned to.

Harriet”.

[click, static]

#breaker whiskey #audio drama #episode #transcript #Spotify

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jo-harrington · 1 day

Text

Gratia. (An As Above, So Below Story)

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.

Summary: You and Eddie-- separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

Note: So...originally this was going to be one long thing. A tale about the Knight and Eddie and their unbreakable bond. And I wavered about how relevant it would be to the larger story. How relevant are any of these blurbs to the larger story? But if there's anything I've learned writing AASB, it's that I'm really writing the whole thing for myself. And after finding myself in an odd state of grief that kind of just keeps getting worse over the weekend, I know that this little fic...and the two that follow...really are only going to just be for me to help me get through it, so I need to be true to myself and write them anyway. **So if you do read this, please know it can be read in tandem with As Above, So Below. And you should have at least read the Prequels, with maybe some bonus points for Genesis. Iif you've read the Hymns, this is set before Nachzehrer.**

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

“God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.” ― Voltaire

November 10, 1986

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"She's not suffering anymore. Tranquilla."

"Thank you, I know. She's been sick for a long time. She's at rest now."

"Mom brought mostaccioli. And chicken cutlets. She's setting it up in the other room then she'll be over. You should get some, you need to eat."

"I'll be alright, thank you for coming."

Today was the final day that you would spend with your Nonna.

Well, a more accurate description was that they let you have it.

Let you.

Let you have one day to sit on that stiff funeral home sofa. To stare at her, unrecognizably still in her casket, as friends and neighbors swarmed to offer their condolences. To mourn with you.

But somehow also separately from you.

And tomorrow, after she was behind a cold slab of marble, you'd be off again. Creeping closer to your own death until one day you might be placed in a plot adjacent to her.

Together.

But not really.

If there was anything left of you.

It wouldn't do to think of that today though.

Today, you would sit here. Enjoy your break and bask in the remnants of her soul that still lingered in and around her body.

It brought you some comfort to feel it move the way she did.

It danced like she danced around the kitchen, the boundaries of it crinkling like the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. A phantasmic remnant of her lovingly worried gaze was on you every now and again, creating the urge to say "I'm ok Nonnie." To lie to her, like you always did. And whenever one of her friends knelt their own aging bodies to pray at her side, you could practically see the softness of her cushion their jagged edges, comforting them.

You didn’t dare go up yourself though.

Not yet.

Not unless you wanted the Funeral Director to haul you out of the casket because somewhere deep down you just wanted to crawl into it with her and scream,

“Take me with you. Don’t leave me like I left you.”

Because you were not ok.

You closed your eyes as a phantom hand touched your shoulder, as it attempted to soothe the pain deep inside you but only managed to stir up another kind of pain. Another kind of mourning.

If only he was really there, you could ask him to take you with him too. Take you away from here to wherever he and Nonna would wait for you.

An impossible request.

The weight of the sofa shifted beside you and you opened your eyes. You expected to find Fortunata or Antoinette—two of Nonna’s closest friends who could claim a spot beside you if they truly wanted—but instead you found Gabriel’s stiff inhuman posture and expressionless face staring ahead of him at the casket.

“You could have helped her,” you said instead of a greeting. What good would a greeting do? “Healed her.”

You briefly wondered if you'd imagined the corner of his mouth quirking before he spoke.

“And if I told you I had? If I spared her a worse fate? Lessened her pain? Lessened yours?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

You turned back to watch the casket with an unsatisfied hum.

Time passed and you sat silently together as you fought to keep your emotions in check with Gabriel's presence. You weren't nervous, per se; more annoyed. Angry, even. Questioning why he was here on this day out of all days.

All your life, you explained away his presence as a guardian. Unseen and unknown to everyone but you. He used to protect you or so you could recall, but as you got older that seemed to stop.

And he was more of a harbinger of doom than a deterrent of it.

Well, not doom.

Fate.

Or God's will or some shit like that. You didn't know anymore. Didn't care. You only cared about getting to the finish line. Freeing your soul of this curse. Getting your prize.

Heaven. Home. Peace with the ones you loved.

With Nonna.

With Eddie.

So if Gabriel was here, it meant something was about to happen. Something unsavory. Something...

You blinked and he disappeared from your peripheral vision suddenly, and just beyond the space he had previously occupied, stood a man in a black cassock.

Jinette approached you but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention until he said your name and offered his condolences.

"May I sit?" he gestured beside you.

"Seat's taken," you responded coldly.

"Ah, your mother, yes," he nodded in realization, and you watched him pull a chair up from one of the rows behind you.

You wouldn't be the one to tell him that your mother hadn't shown her face since you arrived back in Chicago late last night. She had done her duty, arranged the funeral and called you home. Beyond that her obligation was almost over; she could be free.

There had been a brief moment between the two of you when you let yourself into Nonna's flat and found her at the table surrounded by paperwork and old pictures, and you thought for the briefest second that this might be a turning point. That she might exhume whatever love she used to have for you, buried so deep in her heart, so you wouldn't have to mourn alone.

Instead she said she was sorry, then kissed your cheek and left.

And really you only had yourself to blame at the disappointment that punctuated the interaction. How could you have expected anything more than that when the bar was already set so low?

"California is a long way to come just for funeral rites," you said once Jinette was settled.

"I'm afraid that's not what I'm here for."

"Then to attend a funeral of a very devout woman," you amended.

"I'm not here for that either." You would give it to him, the remorse plastered on his features almost looked sincere. "Unfortunately, there is a very dire situation and the Order is in need of your experti--"

"No," you cut him off swiftly. "Tomorrow. You can ask me to go tomorrow. Not today."

The usual coldness of his gaze returned and he addressed you stiffly.

"You cannot refuse. Must not. This is your duty."

You turned to him, hand shooting from your lap of its own volition to grab his robe and pull him close enough that your noses practically touched.

The funeral goers around you began to murmur--your Nonna's friends whispering in fear and shame, saying a prayer to spare them of whatever wrath would befall you for defying and possibly harming his eminence--but you ignored them.

You knew you might pay for it later, but for now your rage was warranted.

"Don't lecture me about duty," you hissed at Jinette. "My entire life has been about duty. Her life too. If you want me to go? You'll beg me. Not guilt me. But I promise that the answer will still be no."

Something wicked flickered inside of you, and you wondered if you could smite Jinette. Just a little bit. If you could channel the deep-rooted grudge against your plight and let him feel the consequences that waited to befall someone who had nurtured it.

Then you felt a slight disturbance in the room.

The calm of Nonna's soul was shaken from its bliss, and you could practically hear the sharp, punishing clicks of her tongue as you fisted Jinette's robe tighter and tighter. The flame of the candles beside her casket flickered, the leaves on the flower arrangements that filled the room began to wilt, and the whispers around you got louder until they roared in your ears.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as the feeling of Nonna's disappointment surrounded you--filled you--and you fought it for as long as you could.

But if anyone here was going to reprimand you in this room, in this world, it would be her.

You let Jinette go and fell back into the couch with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. He heaved several heavy breaths and patted his chest pathetically.

"Tomorrow," you told him as Nonna's soul and the murmurs of the people around you settled back down into a serene silence.

The tears finally fell after he left, and you closed your eyes as Eddie's ghostly touch softly wiped them away.

"Tomorrow..."

November 6, 1983

Twang.

He enjoyed it.

Twang.

Enjoyed plucking the guitar strings and letting the reverberation travel along his fingertips and into the very core of him.

Twang.

Deep down in that dark pit where you seemed to hide, every note was like a starburst of brightness and good feelings. Things so foreign and forgotten to him now, yet still so integral to Eddie Munson.

He wasn't Eddie anymore though.

So he resented the fact that he enjoyed it so much.

"Play something," you would whisper in those hidden depths, like a devil on his shoulder, and he constantly fought the temptation to follow that urge. "Play me a song, I know you know how."

He never gave in though.

Could never give in.

It was bad enough that he hid you from Henry, that he even listened to you at all. But feeling something--doing something--was better than feeling nothing in the boring, timeless eternal void of the Upside Down. So he would allow himself these brief visits to the trailer, he would tolerate your soft words and the ever-present softness of the ghost that seemed to haunt him here, so he could pluck a few twangs of the guitar strings and bask in the sparks of euphoria they would bring.

And it was enough. It had to be enough.

Then, when he got bored or hungry or irritated by you, away he would go again.

"I would argue that me being annoying is the reason you still keep me around."

He hissed at you and pulled his hands away from the guitar spitefully.

Twang.

He watched as one of the strings seemed to pluck itself and debated whether he could reach out and take a swipe at you, but there was a sudden pain beneath his sternum. Odd, seeing as he barely felt pain in this body now. He clicked his claws together contemplatively, then hesitantly rubbed at it to soothe the ache, and as he did, he felt the echoes of your soft sigh somewhere deep inside him.

He faltered for a moment, unsure if he should feel some sort of satisfaction that he had comforted you, or resentment that he had fallen for it.

He hated you. Hated your presence there. Hated that you were somehow here when you left him to this fate. Hated that you made him weak again when Henry had remade him to be strong. Infallible.

You might very well be his downfall one day.

And still he couldn't fathom being without you again.

He growled deeply and, unexpectedly, the trailer shook around him, walls clattering, remnants of knick knacks falling.

For a moment, he watched it in awe. Believed that he was the cause of it. That the power Henry had helped him unlock had been activated with his spite.

Until everything started to shake.

The Upside Down became unsettled, the very ground beneath him shifting with some seismic agitation. Roiling and churning, changing.

There was a cacophony of restlessness through the collective consciousness as all of the creatures of the Upside Down felt the disturbance. As Henry felt the disturbance and questioned its origin, because it had not been of his design.

Almost immediately, he was singled out amongst the masses, ordered to his Master's side.

Who else could find the cause of this turmoil than Henry's right hand? His loyal servant? The Beast he created to strike on his behalf, to herald in the end?

Eddie didn't hesitate.

He left the trailer and took flight swiftly and dutifully, beating his wings powerfully to get to Henry as quickly as he could.

To get away from you as quickly as he could.

You and your comfortable constant presence in the respite of the trailer.

“Do not be afraid. Our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.” ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

#aasb #as above so below #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #Eddie Munson x oc #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fic

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