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cherienymphe · 2 days

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You Get Me So High

JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON, STEPCEST, loss of virginity, toxic relationship (JJ's kind of an asshole), jealousy, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, brief Rafe x reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: To everyone else, JJ is just being an overprotective brother. To you, he's being a possessive asshole.

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You crossed your arms over your chest, watching with a scowl as Kie entertained some guy you’d seen throw a smile her way earlier. You were leaning against a tree, acting as more of an observer than an actual participant as the music from someone’s speaker reached your ears. The tanned girl looked like she was having fun. If only you could relate…

You took a swig of beer, swallowing down your bitterness with it.

The last guy you’d been talking to had been effectively scared off, his eyes widening slightly when a familiar arm snaked its way over your shoulder. You hadn’t needed to lift your gaze to confirm who it was, the sudden nervous fidget from the guy before you told you all you needed to know. Before the familiar blond had even managed to say anything, you’d let out a small sigh, disappointment weighing you down already.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Never mind the fact that he was overstepping into your personal life, but he had to be rude about it too.

The cute brunette had stuttered, face reddening at JJ’s words. Your heart sank at the sight, gaze pleading when his eyes met yours again, but by the look on his face, you could tell that this was one argument he didn’t think was worth it. Watching him mutter an apology before stumbling away, you didn’t know what you hated more—JJ’s behavior or every guy’s lack of balls to stand up to him.

“He’s an asshole, trust me,” was all JJ had said when you gave him an even look.

Without sparing him a word nor another glance, you’d stomped away in search of something to drink.

That was how you found yourself isolated from everyone else, watching your friends have fun—namely Kie—while you were reduced to standing in the corner. You didn’t see the point, to be honest. If you got too ‘wild’ JJ would come along trying to shield you from interested eyes, and if you dared to attempt a conversation with any guy, he’d come along telling them to get lost.

To anyone else he was an overprotective brother.

You knew better though.

“You’re so dramatic,” a familiar voice drawled, and you didn’t bother to even turn your head.

Taking another sip of your drink, you pursed your lips.

“How so?” you quietly wondered.

You felt his fingers graze your jaw, and you hated the way your lashes fluttered.

Hidden away in the dark, the two of you weren’t so visible, and you suspected that was the reason for his boldness. His fingers danced towards your neck, and your heart skipped a beat when one dipped beneath the collar of your shirt, grazing a mark you both knew was there. It made you shudder, and at that you slapped his hand away.

The blond sighed.

“I didn’t want you getting caught up with that guy,” he said. “I didn’t tell you to stop having fun.”

“You might as well have,” you snapped. “You always do.”

“…because your version of fun is shaking your ass against guys who wanna fuck you.”

“At least someone does,” you muttered into your cup.

JJ heard it loud and clear though despite the music and low volume of your voice. You could feel his gaze boring a hole into the side of your face, and you refused to look at him. You finished your drink, starting to toss it on the ground before thinking better of it. Kie would have your head.

“Don’t,” JJ finally said.

You swiveled your head towards him.

“Don’t what?” you wondered with a shrug, face even despite the fire you knew was in your eyes. “Don’t wonder why you don’t want to fuck me but don’t want anyone else to either?”

You watched him press his lips together at that, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glanced around. You hated the way he wouldn’t look at you now, so bold a moment ago. Eventually you rolled your eyes, softly scoffing to yourself before pushing past him.

You didn’t spare JJ another thought as you threw your cup away, finding John B. and asking him when he planned on leaving. You all were staying over at The Chateau, and you shouldn’t have been shocked to know he was going to leave when everyone else wanted to. Annoyed with JJ more than usual, you chose to take your chances and walk back.

You didn’t tell anyone.

It was summer, but the ocean breeze cooled the night air, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing you’d at least had the sense to steal JJ’s jacket. Thoughts of the blond made you frown, and a sour feeling twisted deep within your gut. You longed for the days where your fights were just normal sibling bullshit—being accused of stealing his shirts and eating all of his chips and blaming the missing beer on each other.

Now, your fights were so far from normal sibling bullshit.

Your heart stuttered at the memory of his lips on yours, an impulsive decision after getting high in his bedroom one night. When he hadn’t pushed you away, you hadn’t known what to do, never expecting yourself to get so far. You were even more stumped when he kissed you back, his hand resting on your neck while the other dug into your waist.

You didn’t know why you hadn’t expected it.

Mixed in with those fights about clothes and food and getting on each other’s nerves were also moments that weren’t known by anyone but you. JJ had always been touchy, but the nights in which he’d brush your waist instead of your shoulder left you restless. Sometimes when Pope would say something especially silly, the blond would throw you a look that had you giggling.

…but then it would linger, and you’d feel heat cling to your cheeks, and you’d swear that he ran his eyes over you in a way a brother shouldn’t. When no one else was around, he’d pull you into his lap and rest his face against your neck and rub circles into the small of your back. Despite how much you laid awake at night thinking on these interactions, you told yourself you were imagining things.

Sure, JJ wasn’t your brother by blood, but that shouldn’t have mattered.

Your parents were married, and that made you siblings, and in the eyes of the law—and society—that made anything between you wrong…and illegal. With that being said, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from overanalyzing every exchange, trying and failing to convince yourself that you guys were just close. That’s all.

…but with your parents out and a blunt being passed between you, you hadn’t been able to stop your brain from fixating on it. Ignoring the way the walls pulsed, you’d traced the even rise and fall of his chest. You’d watched his long fingers take the blunt, the low light glinting off of his rings, and you’d watched him bring it up to his pink lips. His hair had seemed messier that night, eyes bluer, and before you knew it…

You kissed him.

You and JJ kissed for what felt like hours, pawing at each other and dragging your lips against each other’s skin. You’d taken a few hits in between, and after some time, you’d just laid there…staring at each other and gently reaching out to each other and occasionally kissing some more. His dad had been God knows where, and your mom had been working, and when you woke up…

JJ pretended like nothing had happened.

That was how it always went ever since.

Sometimes you were high, sometimes sober, and you’d find yourselves wrapped up in each other. Kissing and biting at skin and pulling at fabric. You’d spend hours touching each other, leaving marks that only you two would know the origin of, and when things started to get out of hand, JJ would pull away, convincing you to do the same. The next day—sometimes even just hours later—it was like nothing ever happened.

You watched him disappear with countless girls at parties and said nothing. Days where you’d be with Kie and run into him and some unknown girl, you’d say nothing. When your eyes would zero in on a mark you know you didn’t leave, you’d say nothing. You bit your tongue, because you got it. You and JJ couldn’t actually be anything, not for real anyway, and even if you chose to be something in secret, you hadn’t decided that yet.

So, you understood it.

What you didn’t understand though was the way his presence descended over you like a dark cloud anytime you so much as laughed with another man. If one even approached you, here he’d come playing the protective brother role so well. John B. and Pope found it admirable, and Kie may not have agreed, but she understood. JJ was just being a good brother.

Only you knew it was because he didn’t want to chance anyone else fucking you.

“Are you crazy?”

That familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you cursed yourself for being so wrapped up in your mind to not even hear the approach of a familiar vehicle. Huffing, you turned to roll your eyes at JJ as John B. slowed down. The blond was leaning out of the passenger window, but when John B. stopped, he completely hopped out.

He didn’t look happy.

“Are you deaf? You didn’t see me calling you?”

You hadn’t actually—your phone on silent—and that was what you told him.

“That’s a great volume for it to be at,” he sarcastically replied.

His hand was firm on your back as he pushed you towards the van, climbing into the back behind you as Pope took his place in the passenger seat. You sat as far away from JJ as possible—next to Kie—and you were more than eager to ignore the blond and involve yourself in the conversation they’d been having before spotting you. You could feel your brother’s gaze on you the entire time, and you didn’t spare him a glance.

“He just worries about you,” Kie quietly told you later when JJ was wrapped up in some debate with the two up front. “I don’t agree with how crazy he gets, but if I had a sibling, I don’t think I’d be too much better.”

You bit your tongue, fighting back a bitter smirk. How could you tell Kie that JJ’s ‘worry’ had nothing to do with genuine concern? How could you tell her that under the cover of darkness he’d kiss you and taste you and curl his fingers inside of you, but refused to go beyond that all the while preventing you from going beyond that with anyone else? How could you tell her that so much of your fighting lately was because he wanted to keep you at arms’ length while refusing to give you up?

JJ was a selfish asshole.

You were out of the van almost as soon as John B. parked, and you were searching for a t-shirt you knew you’d left over when the rest of them finally joined you. You could hear Kie searching for something to drink, and when Pope turned to you—a question on his tongue—you shook your head.

“No, I’m…I’m going to sleep in the van,” you exhaled, feeling emotionally drained. “I’m kind of tired.”

They tried to convince you of otherwise, but you waved them off. You could feel JJ’s eyes on you, and you only threw him a dirty look as you left. You felt a tad better after getting undressed, and you heaved a sigh after pulling the tee over your head. With a grimace, you realized it was JJ’s, and you both loved and hated that it still smelled like him.

Staring up at the roof of the Twinkie, you thought to yourself that this couldn’t go on forever. JJ couldn’t keep messing with your heart and your head, and realistically, you knew that if you wanted something of a life and normal experiences, you might have to distance yourself from your friends entirely. You couldn’t even talk to a boy with JJ around, let alone form healthy attachments that didn’t involve your own brother.

It's like he was keeping you in his back pocket, and you didn’t like it.

You were drifting in and out of sleep when you heard the van door open, and you weren’t concerned by your lack of alarm. You surmised it was one of the gang, but somehow you hadn’t anticipated that it’d be JJ. When his voice reached your ears, you were suddenly much more awake, and you leaned back on your elbows with a frown, watching him climb in and close the door behind him.

“No,” you snapped, fully sitting up, now. “This is my spot, and I don’t know what excuse you gave everyone else, but it was a waste because I don’t want you here.”

He ran his hand through his hair, fixing you with an even look that made you roll your eyes.

“I’m not here for that…”

“Sure,” you mumbled, pushing your back against the wall and crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m not,” he firmly repeated. “Look, you’re mad at me and… I don’t like going to bed with us pissed at each other.”

“…and yet you do everything in your power to make that happen.”

“Y/N.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you finally hissed at him, tears kissing your eyes. “I can’t say shit when you’re off fucking God knows who, but if I so much as blink at another guy, here you come.”

JJ at least had the sense to look ashamed, his gaze lowering.

“You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else-.”

“I do want you,” he harshly whispered. “You have to know that by now, but I…”

You watched him take a deep breath, eyes troubled, and you pulled your knees to your chest. You didn’t move when the blond reached for you, the tips of his fingers grazing your leg, and you hated the way it made your heart race. When his gaze met yours again, you swallowed, finding it difficult. He ran those blue eyes over you, and the look in them was wholly familiar.

“I’m supposed to protect you,” he whispered in the small space. “When our parents got married, I thought ‘hey’. I have a sister now, and I need to look out for her and protect her from assholes who’ll try to get in her pants.”

JJ sighed, and it sounded frustrated.

“…and now I’m one of those assholes.”

You glanced away, frowning.

“…but I want this just as much as you, so who cares?”

“…and little kids want candy all day every day.”

“You do not know better than me, JJ Maybank! God, you would swear that you’re soo much older than me by how you talk down to me sometimes, but we’re one year apart, you ass!”

He had moved closer, now, a deep frown on his own face.

“We can’t be anything.”

It looked like it took him a lot to say that, and you looked between his eyes, chest aching at his words. They were true, but that didn’t mean they hurt or stung any less. With a deep breath, you blinked, jaw clenching.

“Fine,” you whispered. “Then stop kissing me.”

You watched his face fall at that, and you raised a brow at him.

“Stop touching me, stop sneaking around with me and crawling into my bed almost every night, JJ. Stop…stopping me from living a life I can actually experience in public.”

He didn’t like the sound of that, and when he turned away, you bitterly nodded.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You got close to him, tone haughty.

“You keep yourself from fucking me out of some sense of morality and integrity or whatever, but not only is the damage practically already done, you’re making it worse by doing the very thing you won’t let me do,” you choked out. “When you want me, you can find some girl to distract yourself with, but all I have is you.”

You moved away, grabbing your blanket and preparing to lie back down.

“How is that fair?” you muttered.

He didn’t respond, and you turned your back to him, staring at the inside of the van and just wanting him to leave. He laid down with you instead, and beyond annoyed and saddened by the conversation, you didn’t have the energy to tell him to get out.

You forced yourself to find sleep with your back to him.

You could taste blood on your tongue, but despite this, you couldn’t allow yourself to release your lip from the pressure of your teeth. JJ’s lips were pressed to your throat, leaving open mouthed kisses, his breathing heavy and uneven. Your own chest was heaving, and your hand was wrapped around his wrist. You liked the feel of it moving in your grip every time he thrust his fingers into you.

Your thighs were spread wide, JJ standing between them, and you could faintly hear the splashes of your friends goofing around in the water. You tried to be mindful of that, knowing that any moment now your prolonged absences would be noticed and investigated. You almost wanted to curse JJ for following you down here, but with his fingers curling inside of you, it was hard to remember why this predicament was bad.

Turning his head, he captured your lips in a kiss, and you were hungry in kissing him back. He tasted the inside of your mouth as his fingers stretched you out, wrist snapping between your thighs and making your toes curl. You knew that you’d have to jump in the water the very second you went back above deck, afraid to see what kind of mess you were making—the mess JJ was currently contributing to.

You hadn’t even realized he’d followed you until you’d turned to go back after grabbing your snorkeling mask. You personally hadn’t thought anything of John B.’s comment on your bathing suit, not unfamiliar with the casual flirtation from both him and Pope. It meant nothing, both of them remaining consistent in that behavior with Kie as well—something even JJ was guilty of.

So, you didn’t know why it’d set him off today of all days.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t touched you in weeks. Between locking your door at night and skipping out on outings and just all-around distancing yourself more, JJ hadn’t even had any opportunities to get you alone. He talked a big game about wanting to do right by you, but at the end of the day, you knew that it’d be up to you to really put in some effort to ending this.

…and it was a good effort, but JJ was just more daring than you’d anticipated.

Cornering you and fingering you below deck of the boat with all of your friends just outside was something that you would’ve put even past him. It was too risky and stupid and had potential for drama you didn’t even want to think about. However, it was clear that his desire for you outweighed all of that.

When you gasped into his mouth, the blond cursed.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Quiet…”

You wanted to tell him that you wouldn’t need to be quiet if he hadn’t basically attacked you, but you couldn’t find the words. His thumb was circling your clit, and three of his fingers were creating a delicious burn that had your lips parting against his mouth. Your free arm was haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, hips bucking against his hand. His free hand was digging into your thigh.

You hissed, struggling to speak.

“JJ,” you quietly whined. “I think… I think I’m about to…”

You couldn’t get the words out, but he understood them.

Pulling away from you, he dropped to his knees, fingers still pushing into your dripping cunt. He didn’t hesitate to lean in, burying his face between your thighs with his lips covering your folds, tongue swiping back and forth. The sensations had your eyes rolling, and when he sucked on the hood of your clit, your reached up to cover your mouth.

Your other hand twisted into his hair.

He didn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you even as you came, mouth still attached as well. You couldn’t stop the movement of your hips, feeling possessed as you lifted them in time with his wrists, fucking yourself onto his fingers and grinding against his face. He hummed, and the vibrations caused a shudder to crawl down your spine.

You felt like you were coming forever, dropping your hand and hissing when he lazily massaged your walls with the pads of his fingers. When he pulled them out, he dragged his tongue up your core one last time before sliding his fingers into his mouth. You were still catching your breath when he handed you your snorkeling mask, and you hated the sight of that small smirk dancing along his lips.

Pulling your bathing suit bottoms back into place, you hurried past him, uncaring if you bumped into him or not.

That was how it always went.

Outside of that first kiss, things were always on JJ’s terms, and sometimes you wondered if that first kiss was even an exception. After all, it had been years of flirtatious looks and teasing touches leading up to that moment. That kiss was something JJ clearly wanted—evident in the way he’d kissed you back—and you sometimes wondered if you would’ve even entertained such thoughts if it hadn’t been for him.

You hated how little control you seemed to have in this ordeal. You’d gone out of your way to do what JJ always claimed he needed to do, and what happened? The very thing you both knew you needed to put a stop to. Despite what JJ liked to preach, it seemed he was never going to let you go, and the unfairness of it all was really getting to you.

“Do you think he remembers that he already slept with her? Or are we witnessing a rare event, right now?”

Pope’s words created a heaviness in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at what they were looking at. JJ was indeed talking to a girl you’d seen him disappear with before, and the sight caused a burning sensation behind your eyes. You didn’t understand how JJ just didn’t care how shitty this was for you, and while they were distracted, you slipped away.

You were at a house party on Figure 8, a rare occurrence, and you had Kie to thank. The host wasn’t the average classist jerk, but he’d made it clear Pogues were only allowed if they were invited by a Kook, and Kie’s one foot in one foot out life came in handy. While your friends were distracted by the prospect of JJ sleeping with the same girl twice, you found yourself getting a drink in the kitchen.

When you felt someone brush against your arm, you thought nothing of it.

“I know you,” a voice said after some time.

Glancing up, you were greeted by a very familiar face.

“You’re JJ’s sister.”

Rafe seemed proud of himself for recognizing you, index finger pointed straight at you as he nodded. Unsure of what to say, you merely sent him a tight smile as you raised your brows as if to say ‘in the flesh’. You turned back to finish dipping your drink when he moved, and when you looked at him, he was leaning back against the counter, gaze curious.

“Don’t you usually have a bodyguard or two with you?” he hummed, a glint in his eye that promised nothing good.

You found that you liked it.

“They’re a little distracted at the moment,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

The dirty blond hummed to himself, and you didn’t miss the secretive smile on his lips.

“They’re slacking on their job,” he said, suddenly excitedly exhaling as he grabbed a drink of his own. “Which makes mine a whole lot easier…”

You gave the rich kid a look, and he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“I’m heading upstairs. It’s a little crowded down here…and you’re welcome to join me…”

His blue eyes gave you a quick onceover before he brushed by you, and you tapped your finger against your drink, contemplating his words. Rafe was a rich asshole that was probably the closest thing any of you had to a mortal enemy—the guys especially. He was a classist dick who’d gotten into quite a few fights with your brother and your friends…but he would also fuck just about anyone.

You knew that Rafe was mainly motivated by your relation—blood or not—to JJ, and the effect it’d have on him if he knew Rafe had hooked up with you in any capacity. You also suspected that he probably had a hard on for slumming it with Pogues—some type of power imbalance kink going on there—but you didn’t care.

All you cared about was the fact that JJ kept pushing and pulling you without a care as to how it made you feel. He claimed he didn’t want to cross a certain line with you out of fear of becoming the very thing he’d sworn to protect you from, but you felt that line was crossed the first time his face had found refuge between your thighs.

Both JJ and Rafe were assholes…but not only was Rafe the kind of asshole to give you what you wanted, he’d also never pretend to be so righteous.

Rafe didn’t give a fuck about being righteous.

…and that was how you found yourself following after him, looking behind you to make sure you weren’t being watched by anyone who mattered. Rafe was just inside the hallway when you reached the top of the stairs, almost as if he knew you’d follow him. Was there an air of desperation that surrounded you or was he just that confident?

You grabbed onto his arm as he led you into a bedroom.

“JJ’s not looking for you, is he?”

His voice came from behind you as you glanced about the room.

“Do you care?” you wondered, looking over his shoulder to watch him dump a few pills onto the desk.

He chuckled to himself, perfect teeth winking at you.

“Of course not,” he quietly said. “He’s just always one step behind you, hovering over your shoulder.”

His tone made you tense, but his next words made your heart drop.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that brother of yours wanted you for himself.”

You looked away, clearing your throat.

“…and I think you watch too much porn.”

When you looked at him, he was approaching you, now, softly laughing to himself. He pressed the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he studied you, that same glint in his eye that both scared and excited you.

“Maybe…”

You watched him place a pill on his tongue, and when he leaned in, you nervously let him kiss you, swallowing that same pill. Kissing Rafe wasn’t like kissing JJ. Never mind the fact that you didn’t feel any guilt or feel like this was wrong, but Rafe kissed you like he was trying to get you to have sex with him. It made your eyes roll, and when his hand landed on your throat, you reached up to touch it. He forced you to step back, and when the back of your legs hit the bed, you shakily sat down, his lips still on yours.

You knew that this was reckless—dangerous even—because Rafe didn’t seem the type to stop if you asked him to stop. It was a good thing you were angry and hurting and feeling petty because otherwise you didn’t think you’d be so sure of your actions, right now. You didn’t care about Rafe, and so you didn’t have any stakes in this—no concerns about your heart and your feelings and what tomorrow would be like.

Every time you kissed JJ, you felt like your chest was going to explode. You felt something for him, evident in the way it felt like getting stabbed every time you saw him kiss another girl. It was why you always gave in, not strong enough to seriously resist him every time he got his hands on you. Sometimes you protested as of late, sure, but they were shallow, only said out of obligation and always abandoned for what your heart actually wanted.

…and JJ knew this.

Maybe that was what made it hurt more, the fact that JJ knew what he meant to you and still kept you in this unfair corner. He had too much so-called integrity to go all in with you while simultaneously using other girls, but he was also too selfish to just let you go and live an openly romantic life. It was a constant push and pull that fucked you up…and also drove you to place your hand on the back of Rafe’s neck.

You were lying down now, the rich blond on top of you, and you’d long forgotten about JJ and your friends downstairs. It felt good to kiss someone who wasn’t your brother, and when Rafe’s hand found its way between your legs, you decided that felt good too. You gasped into his mouth, and you felt him smile into the kiss, fingers sinking into you.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, dragging the word out as he kissed down your jaw.

You lifted your hips up against his hand, holding him closer the wetter you became. You were panting beneath him, hands running over him, and there was a bout of disbelief in the back of your mind—disbelief that you were about to lose your virginity to Rafe Cameron in some stranger’s bedroom at a party.

There were a few moments in your life where you’d swear that if you and JJ didn’t become siblings after you were already born, you’d think you were actually related with how telepathically linked you seemed to be. This seemed to be one of those moments, because it was as if he’d read your mind and knew exactly what you were up to.

When the door swung open, you were only startled.

It never occurred to you that JJ would be on the other side should someone come knocking.

It didn’t until you looked over, a protest already on Rafe’s lips when your gaze met a familiar blue one. Rafe’s words died in the air as he registered just who had interrupted you, and for a split second you took satisfaction in the way JJ’s eyes widened at the sight before him. He looked shocked and disgusted all rolled into one, something else glinting in his gaze you just couldn’t name.

Your satisfaction, however, disappeared as quickly as it came.

Any and every emotion in JJ’s gaze was quickly replaced by fury.

So much happened so quick, and before Rafe even had time to get off of you—an arrogant comment on his lips no doubt—JJ had grabbed the other blond and was already punching him. Your surprised shriek drew the attention of your friends who were apparently upstairs too…looking for you. You’d pushed yourself back further up the bed just as the room became more crowded.

Kie was the first to reach you, John B. and Pope hurrying to get JJ off of the older blond.

The other girl was saying something to you, and as you looked at her, you realized that this was the moment the Ecstasy chose to kick in. You were trying to focus on her words, but everything felt distractingly different, and you could only blink when she grabbed your lids, staring into your eyes.

She cursed.

“JJ, JJ!” she struggled to get his attention. “She’s high, we need to go.”

Those words seemed to whip him into shape better than any efforts from John B. or Pope, the blond immediately abandoning Rafe and making his way to you. When he touched your face, you could only smile at the feeling before remembering that you didn’t like him at the moment. When you jerked away from his hands, your brother heaved an irritated sigh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, grabbing you despite your protests.

Kie helped him, and you didn’t even care to look back to see if Rafe was okay. You only wanted JJ off of you, but considering your vulnerable state, you knew that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You were thankful the music was loud, no one privy to what exactly went on upstairs, worried the host might decide none of you were welcome back. Pope and John B. were close behind you three as you were practically walked to the van like a child.

Seated just inside the van, you looked away from JJ when John B. said he was going to start the vehicle. The blond didn’t like that, grabbing your face and making you look at him. His actions were met with a loud and painful slap, and the sting in your hand didn’t even bother you. Kie and Pope looked out of place as they glanced between you, wondering what they should do.

The silence was loud.

“Just get in the van, guys,” he slowly said. “We’re fine.”

Neither one of them looked sure of that, but accepting that this was something between siblings, they reluctantly did with Pope moving to the front. You could hear both of them talking to John B. just as JJ took your face into his hand again, fingers pressing into your chin and jaw. You didn’t miss the way his own jaw ticked as he looked at you, and you wondered what he was thinking about.

“Not here,” he quietly bit out, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “Alright…?”

You felt your lips tremble, and you couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping, JJ’s face falling at the sight.

“You treat me like shit,” you whispered just loud enough for his ears only, leaning in closer. “I wish that I’d fucked him.”

JJ’s entire visage changed at that, a stricken look on his face as he seemed to realize Rafe hadn’t manipulated you or forced you into anything. His blue eyes were wide as he looked at you, something passing through them that you couldn’t place, and you didn’t care to figure it out. You only moved away from him, scooting back further into the van and lying down. When Kie offered you some water, you took it.

She patted your head as you lied back down, turning to answer some question from Pope just as John B. started the vehicle. As it purred to life, your gaze traveled to JJ who was sitting opposite you, his blue eyes never leaving you. He didn’t look happy at all, and even through your ecstatic haze, you found yourself wishing you had fucked Rafe just to make whatever was to come worth it.

JJ’s hand was tight around your wrist as he pinned it beside your head. The only sound in John B.’s bedroom was that of your harsh breathing and the rustling of sheets. That dull aching pain was still present from when JJ had first slid his cock into you, but it was overshadowed by the full sensation his fingers had never been able to give you. Your free hand pressed into the small of his back, and his teeth in your shoulder reminded you of how angry the blond was.

John B., Pope, and Kie had only stayed for a few minutes before leaving again, using the excuse of going by the store to get you things you’d need while you came down. You suspected they wanted to give you and JJ some privacy, hoping you’d argue whatever it was they thought you needed to argue out of your system. The brunette had told JJ that it was fine to put you in his room.

You should’ve known that things weren’t going to be that simple.

“Rafe?” he’d screamed at you, and the drugs in your system made his voice seem louder which in turn made your anger feel stronger.

“If you want me to say sorry, I’m not,” you’d tearfully whispered. “We aren’t together…and I can fuck whoever I want just like you do.”

Your words had given him pause, and you could see that JJ at least felt bad. You were sure he always felt bad, but it had never stopped him. Whatever moral high ground he’d been trying to stand on was backfiring, and in his attempts to not be the bad guy, he’d become the worst guy.

“How do you think that makes me feel?” you’d spat, although it didn’t come out as angry as you wanted. “You tell me that we can’t be together. That we can’t do this, and we can’t be anything…but then you kiss me and rob me of just about every first I have left and then you push me away. Over and over and over again.”

You hated the way your voice cracked, unable to get a handle on your emotions.

“That’s mean, JJ. Do you get that?” you angrily looked between his eyes. “You are so mean to me…”

Your voice shook, and JJ knelt before you, reaching for you, but you snatched your hands away. He settled for resting them on your thighs instead, seemingly at war with himself as he sighed.

“I’m not trying to be,” he slowly said.

“Well, try harder!”

Your outburst made his expression harden, and you hated the way he glared at you, now.

“Like you? Hmm?” he wondered, and you looked away. “You’re…you’re going to pretend like you weren’t trying to get back at me by going upstairs with Rafe?”

You rolled your eyes, lips parting as you pressed your tongue to your teeth.

“In a way…yeah…” you rolled your neck to face him again with a shrug. “…but I didn’t think you’d find out.”

JJ froze at that, looking stumped for the second time tonight.

“I thought you’d gone off with that girl!” you screamed, throwing your hand out. “You weren’t supposed to…”

You trailed off, avoiding his gaze once you registered the realization in his eyes. The room was deathly silent, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You were struggling to hold back tears, throat feeling incredibly thick, and the more JJ just stared at you in silence, the more uncomfortable you felt. When he finally did speak, you almost didn’t hear him.

“You were going to have sex with him?”

You didn’t respond, feeling that your silence was answer enough.

“You were actually going to–look at me,” he sneered, taking your chin into his hand again. “You didn’t intend for me to find out? You were actually going to fuck Rafe Cameron.”

JJ’s blond hair was going every which way, courtesy of his hands running through it the entire ride home. You didn’t have a response he’d like, and he seemed to know that, just staring at you with wide eyes. Jerking your face out of his hold, you angrily wiped your cheeks.

“You treat me like something you keep in your back pocket, and you’re shocked I went upstairs with a guy I knew would make me feel wanted?” you murmured. “…and of course, it doesn’t hurt that you two hate each other.”

You watched JJ look away, swiping his tongue between his lips.

“You make me feel like there’s something wrong with me, JJ.”

He looked shocked at that admission, and you shrugged.

“I’m good enough to fool around with a little, but not good enough for there to actually be something between us…” you continued when he started to open his mouth. “…and you say its because you don’t want to be that guy you’d vowed to protect me from, but you’re already that guy.”

You shook your head at him.

“You know how I feel about you, and you tell me that we can’t be anything then okay, fine, I could accept that…but then you keep coming back to me! You ignore any kind of boundary I try to have to make things go back to how they were. You just,” you scoffed. “You do what you want, and I can’t do anything.”

“…because none of the guys on this island are good enough for you!”

His hands were on your shoulders, and his fingers kneaded into your skin.

“Including me,” he quietly added. “…I’m not good enough for you.”

He shakily exhaled, running his eyes over your face.

“…but the thought of you with anybody but me makes me want to be sick,” he slowly confessed. “No, its not right, and its not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You watched him stand again, running his hand down his face.

“…but that doesn’t make it okay for you to go upstairs with Rafe,” he told you, sounding angry all over again. “He is way worse than I could ever be.”

“Well, he’s not scared of you, so at least I know he’ll fuck me.”

JJ stared you down at that, and you stared back, entirely serious.

“When you’re trying to get over me, you get under someone else,” you reminded him. “I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

JJ’s entire face clouded over, and you could see then that he could see the determination in your eyes. Whether it be tomorrow or next week, you were going to sleep with Rafe. You were tired of being hung up on someone you couldn’t have—someone who wouldn’t let you have him—and you didn’t understand why you had to endure lonely nights just because JJ said so. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t your anything, and as he stared at you, you could see the realization on his features.

If he didn’t want you sleeping with anyone else, then he’d better come up with a damn good reason.

“Fine,” he relented, nodding to himself. “Fine.”

He approached you, grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. While you enjoyed the kiss, you felt that JJ was getting what he actually wanted too easily, and you turned your face away while pressing a hand to his chest.

“No,” you mockingly spat. “I didn’t have to practically beg Rafe-.”

Your words were cut off by JJ’s tight grip on your arm, and you nervously looked at him, swallowing.

“Do not say his name,” the blond forced out. “Do not bring up Rafe to me, right now.”

His grip made you wince, and you thought to yourself how far he would’ve gone with Rafe if Kie hadn’t stopped him. JJ was still pissed about the ordeal, no doubt recalling what he’d walked in on, but at the moment he was more focused on finally giving in to what he’d denied himself for years. Kissing you again, he forced you to swallow any more mentions of the Kook.

He was desperate to get you naked—and you felt the same—and he couldn’t stop kissing you the entire time. His skin felt so warm against your own, chest pressed against yours and hands following a familiar path. His fingers had only prepared you so much, and that was how you found yourself pressing your nails into his skin as he stretched you out.

Somewhere along the way, you remembered that this wasn’t your bedroom nor your house and that you two wouldn’t be alone all night. You lifted your hips to meet JJ’s thrusts, moaning into his mouth and pushing against his hand that had yours pinned. He pulled his lips away to kiss along your chest, curving his hips against yours and thrusting into you with a slow and steady pace.

With the X in your system, it felt like an out of body experience.

You threw your head back, chest arching up against his, shuddering at the feel of your skin grazing his own. When he let your hand go, he slid both of them underneath you, palms resting on your ass as he lifted you onto his cock with every thrust of his hips. You reached down to rest your hands on his wrists, toes curling. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, now, and you loved the feeling of his tongue on your skin.

“It’s just you,” he murmured into your shoulder. “From now on, it’s just you.”

Reaching up, you twisted your fingers into his strands of hair, gripping them and playing with them. You felt like you were floating, your entire body buzzing and warm, and you could only dazedly nod at his words. When he lifted his head to look down at you, there was a peculiar look on his face, and then he chuckled.

“I forgot,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours and talking into the kiss. “I know this feels fucking amazing for you.”

Hooking your arms under his shoulder, you held onto him as he plunged his cock into you. You couldn’t swallow anything down, gasping and mewling beneath him, begging him for things you couldn’t even comprehend. His hair touched your forehead when he pressed his own to yours, nose brushing yours as he stared into your eyes.

The bed shook beneath you, and deep within your mind, something in you felt bad that this wasn’t your bed. That thought reminded you that your solitude wasn’t permanent, and you heard yourself let out a small whine.

“They’re…they’re probably on the way…”

Your words died in the air, lashes fluttering and eyes rolling when JJ snapped his hips against yours. JJ shushed you, promising to make you come before they returned. Moments later, he kept that promise, and you held him to you as you trembled beneath him, clenching around his cock and milking him as he came moments after you did.

Everywhere he touched, heat bloomed, and you didn’t want him to let go.

“Sleep with me,” you murmured, frowning when he pulled out of you.

You could make out him looking for your shirt, quickly putting it on you, and JJ kissed your cheek once you were covered, lips lingering.

“I will when they’re asleep,” he told you.

As if he’d conjured them up, you heard the unmistakable sound of the Twinkie pulling into the yard.

“I’ll stay the night like I always do,” he promised you, moving to get dressed.

When he was decent, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his arms. Your head rested against his stomach, the walls pulsating and the floor moving a tad. JJ was saying something to you, but you couldn’t quite comprehend it, your mind already focused on something else.

“I won’t sleep with Rafe, JJ,” you heard yourself murmur, and he was silent, but you did feel his hand resting on the side of your neck, fingers grazing your jaw.

There was conviction in his tone as he brushed his thumb over your lips.

“You weren’t doing that, anyway.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #obx #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #obx imagine #obx fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic

558 notes · View notes

5sospenguinqueen · 13 hours

Text

Post Race Tension / Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader

Summary: Y/N Verstappen wins her first GP in Monaco 2021. Her boyfriend, who was unable to even get his car to the starting line, struggles with it. Protective Max, begrudgingly, gets involved.

Warnings: Swearing. Female reader. Angst. Stroppy Charles.

Main Masterlist

---

User 1 finally got a post-race conference with the ultimate trio

→ User 2 not really the content that we wanted though. Did you see how sad Charles looked?

→ User 3 and the twins were absolutely rubbing it in his face. Did you see them gossiping the entire time?

→ User 4 she's his girlfriend. Not sure she would do that.

User 5 not the official F1 doing the Prince of Monaco dirty and posting about his loss. Like, I think he's already aware of it.

User 6 even angry, he looks good!

User 7 so sad to see. Especially after getting pole. Monaco are mourning for you, Charles.

Next Day

User 8 and after he was absent at her celebratory dinner.

→ User 9 he didn't post anything about her win either, unlike the other drives. Or like anything related to it.

→ User 10 you guys are reaching. They always have seperate rooms. The teams literally have to book them.

→ User 11 yeah but they ALWAYS share.

User 12 charles is obvi the WAG.

→ User 13 not for much longer from the looks of it.

SportsNews added a new reel

Sports News exclusive with Charles Leclerc following his recent loss at Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and others

→ charles_leclerc thanks for having me.

User 13 why is he trying to make it sound like his girlfriend cheated on him.

→ User 14 barbie has a great day everyday, but Ken only has a great day if Barbie looks at him.

User 15 sounds like confirmation, guys.

→ User 16 does this mean we have a chance?

→ danielricciardo No.

User 17 pop off, Sis

User 18 queen is serving cunt

User 19 she's everything. He's just Ken.

User 20 yell it louder for the misogynists in the back.

User 21 so, we're all in agreement that Charles is the one who fucked up?

→ User 19 after the way he stormed off yesterday when she won? Absolutely.

Y/N Verstappen new post

YourUserName petty comes in shades other than red. (And so does a Championship)

liked by maxverstappen1, kellypiquet and others

User 1 i bet their PR teams are having a field day

lilymhe my most beautiful driver

→ alex_albon oi.

landonorris winning looks good on you

→ User 2 little Lando shooting his shot.

→ User 3 i fear this means we are children of divorce.

mclaren our Champion <3

User 4 us thinking we can finally get rid of the Dutch anthem 🥳 Us remembering Y/N's last name 😒🇳🇱

Next Day

Part 2? Let me know :)

514 notes · View notes

gutsby · 2 days

Text

Just Peachy

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel’s got a jealous streak and a bold idea.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-a. Loss of anal virginity. Possessiveness. Semi-public sex. Cumplay. Spit as lube.

Word count: 3.2k

Joel was too old to get jealous.

Long before he ever reached fifty-one, the man had known who he was and what was his—and you were it.

He got a refresher each time he split you open and watched your soft, pliant hole form an even wider ‘o’ around his shaft, moans as profuse as the moisture leaking out of you. He took comfort in that. It wasn’t often he required a reminder with such immediacy as he’d needed it tonight: thrusting you headfirst into the bathroom at the Tipsy Bison with your hands pinned clumsily behind your back. You’d laughed when he did it.

“What’s up with you?” you’d murmured, eyes alight with amusement as you watched Joel yank his belt in two.

You would’ve liked to admire the shelf of hefty, salt-and-pepper speckled belly that was left on display by the loosening of the leather, the tugging of fabric away from his heated lower parts, but the moment was so fleeting. Joel hadn’t even bothered to respond before he was smoothing your dress over your hips, drawing in, and—

“Shit!”

You seized either side of the sink and let out a yelp loud enough to stir half the bar. Joel just grunted. Approving.

“‘Atta girl,” he said, burying himself inside your cunt.

Quick fucks were never Joel Miller’s métier, it was true. He much preferred the drawn-out bouts of lovemaking that had your knees and brains in a puddle of mush by the end of it. But now there was a will behind the weight of his thrusts, a calm and calculated fervor that sent each snap of his hips moving faster against your own. You knew there had to be a reason for such an outburst, feeling his hands singe your hips in a bruising grip, so you weren’t surprised in the slightest when you heard:

“That loser ever fuck you like this?”

You made an effort to meet Joel’s gaze in the mirror, but it was hard to keep it straight when his cock was sawing back and forth between your walls at a breakneck pace.

“W-W— Who?” you stammered, teeth gritting at the last.

“Dipshit in the Sigma Chi polo,” Joel returned gruffly.

You were in awe the man had seen you two at all, much less read the Greek letters and knew what they meant. You’d spent all of five minutes chatting it up with an ex whilst deliberating which Creed song to queue up on TouchTunes. There was no way he could’ve known.

Unless, of course…

“Tommy tell ya?” you said in a breath, grimace slowly morphing to a smirk as you clenched and held the sink.

Joel groaned but didn’t slow. He didn’t like that look. Perhaps by chance—but more likely on purpose—he drove his hips all the way in until the head of his cock kissed your cervix. Your nose almost hit the mirror.

“Fucker!” you hissed.

“Right?” Joel said, pretending to commiserate. Then, fighting back a grin as your own smile began to give way to a whimper, “Dude looked like a real fucker, for sure. Just hoped he never got the chance to do it to you.”

So that’s what this was all about—stated plain as day.

Joel was surprised he’d said it himself, but with the way your wet, messy cunt was pulling him in, he had to know.

It drove him insane to think one drop of that nectar had been meant for anyone else but him. He was, of course, too old to be concerned with anything resembling jealousy, but then again, you were you. And you were his. And, mature as your Joel tried to be, the thought of that shit-brained chump ramming his dick in and out of the softest, sweetest depths of your body had him contemplating violent crimes of every flavor.

“Did he?” Joel pressed again, a bit more stern this time.

You felt a hand thread through your hair to hold your face upright in front of the mirror. You stared and saw your mouth hanging slightly ajar, saliva pooling at the sides and threatening to spill with every stab of Joel’s cock.

You were surprised you could even speak at all when that cockdrunk pout made a low, slurred, ‘Di-id he what?’

“Did he fuck you here?”

Here? Like in the bar bathroom?

As if reading your mind and seeing you start to shake your head no, Joel stilled your motions with his hand and used the other for more leverage as he continued to drill.

“No, no, darlin’. I mean— he ever fuck this pretty hole?” And, as if to punctuate his question, Joel plunged his dick so far inside you that your face did tap the mirror; nowhere near hard enough to hurt, but enough to get your attention. And smear your lipgloss on the glass.

You reeled back and moaned. Felt a pit in your tummy.

Why drag it out? By the look in his eye, he already knew. You wouldn’t be sharing any earth-shattering secret now.

“Yes. Yes, I—” You sucked in a breath when you felt that pit become a pinch and in turn, cause your toes to curl, “—he fucked me.”

“Once? Twice?”

“Three t-times.”

To your surprise, you saw the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. Like he was pleased by what he’d heard.

“Oh yeah?” Joel hummed.

You whimpered in the affirmative and tried to nod, but it was hard to do with his fingers still tangled in your hair. Your walls involuntarily clenched around his cock, and you could’ve sworn you felt an influx of warmth follow after. If ‘apologetic cumslut’ had been the goal, you weren’t quite sure you were succeeding at anything but being the latter part. Joel seemed to notice as much.

“Did he cum inside and make a mess’a her, too?” he asked, teasing now as he took his thumb and started rubbing the slick flesh that was being stretched and stuffed full of his fat cock. His pace was slowing by turns.

Normally you could not stand the thought of a man policing your sexual history, but with Joel, it felt different. Like he wasn’t really making fun at all but simply poking and prodding around for the truth so he could get to someplace else. Still thumbing, gently.

“You let him fuck this cunt and stuff her full, pretty girl?”

You had no choice but to nod. His hips had lost nearly all their speed and were now making slow, shallow thrusts.

“Yes,” you whimpered, “I— I—”

—didn’t even know you then. Didn’t like the guy at all. Didn’t enjoy having him cum inside a fraction of the—

“I know, baby,” Joel interrupted you, still rubbing the rim of your cunt with feather-light touches, “‘S’okay, I know.”

You wanted to keen at how affectionate, warm, and soft he could be—amazed by the way he’d made that switch—when the force of Joel’s thrusts halted altogether. He leaned over your body to press a kiss to the side of your head, holding your gaze in the mirror. Grey stubble licked at your temple as his cock nestled deeper inside you, and the weight of his soft and muscled stomach pressed in.

His thumb moved too.

Sliding up to the taut ring of muscles above your full, aching pussy, Joel drew a slow ‘o’ and kissed you again.

“He ever fuck you here?” he asked.

Something fluttered in your stomach, and it sure as fuck wasn’t just butterflies. You stared at the man in disbelief.

You’d just begun to shake your head no when the tip of his thumb grazed the rim of your hole and sank inward. You choked on a gasp when you felt your ass pucker, and shit did Joel Miller look smug as he’d ever been when those too-tight-for-you muscles gave in and sucked in.

“What the— ah,” you hissed, slamming your palm flat on the mirror. You couldn’t see a thing besides Joel’s elbow jutting out, tanned bicep flexing with his ministrations, but you could feel his thumb swirl gently again. Inside.

“Anybody touch you here before, honey?” Joel said.

“Nuh-uh.”

Admittedly, you were a little unnerved, on the verge of being opposed to what this man was doing, when you felt the muscles snap back—Joel retracted his thumb—and two other digits hovered along the vulnerable spot. Just by chance, you caught a glimpse of what looked like Joel about to blow a kiss or whistle, and suddenly you sensed a wet glob of warmth on the small of your back.

Then sliding, gliding down to your crack and between your two cheeks with an obscene heat you would’ve never thought possible: Joel’s spit ran down to his hand, and his index and middle fingers started rubbing it in. Circling the hole and smearing it more for good measure, Joel grinned and placed a kiss atop your shoulder blade.

“Tell me it’s mine to fuck,” he mumbled.

“Joel—” you started.

A trail of kisses led up to the nape of your neck as the fingers pushed deeper. Joel’s touch was soft both ways.

“Only mine,” he tried again, and the request was implicit.

You clenched around his fingers and his cock, feeling the former slide back and forth with near-astonishing ease. You would be lying if you said the sensation, paired with the blunt, wily lilt to his words didn’t make your legs much weaker than they were before. No, it wasn’t just the matter of it being a first for you but a first and only for you both—Joel claiming a space where no man had ever fucked you and making it his own, filling you whole.

Joel spit again, and you hated that you’d come to crave the sound, but the obscene squelch of his saliva mixing in with your arousal as he worked his fingers in and out of your ass was like music to your ears. You whimpered and found yourself nodding quickly, half-embarrassed, saying it’s yours Joel, all of this is yours to fuck and fill.

You never had been one to tell the man no. Whether it was his head between your legs at the most inopportune of times, a blowjob behind the bar, or a lightning-fast quickie in the drive thru line, you were always down. And Joel was wholly enamored with the idea he could have you anywhere he liked—now in any hole he wanted, too. You could see the fuckdrunk look in his eyes as his digits pushed in and his cock dragged out of your cunt, leaving you empty in one and getting spread for him in the other.

Joel’s lips were glistening with spit and the world’s biggest grin as he caught your eye in the mirror. Then he leaned in closer, pressed a kiss to your temple again, and kept his mouth beside your ear as he whispered:

“I’ll be gentle, honey, I promise.”

You were each a trembling mess of hormones, lust, and bottom-shelf spirits, and you definitely shouldn’t have been trying anal for the very first time in Tommy’s bar. But your pussy and ass were drenched, Joel’s fingers had pulled out and made way for just the tip of his cock to notch into that space between your cheeks, and both your minds were delirious with the idea of doing a thing so taboo and new. Full primal desire took over, and before you could think twice about what it was you were doing, Joel was squeezing your hips and pushing in.

What felt like a full fucking thrust of him was really just an inch. Your hand clawed at the towel rack on the wall and seized the bar tight as a burn shortly, swiftly took root between your legs and forced a whimper from your throat. Joel swallowed a groan and kissed your neck.

“Need it slower?” he said as soon as he saw you wince.

Stinging and stretched as you were with just the tip, the filthy urge to have him further inside was too great. Against your body’s best interest and the ache in your core, you wiggled your hips and nudged more of him in.

Joel’s kiss turned to teeth in your skin, and he cursed.

“Fuck that’s so tight,” he said, words more like a growl, “Suckin’ me in so good, baby.”

You beamed with the most sick and lascivious sense of pride and pushed your ass back again. You heard the squelch, felt the reflexive pulse of your muscles struggle to take more in, but the burn that followed this time was eclipsed by the pleasure you felt in seeing Joel’s face.

Feeling him grip you tighter, watching that expression move from bliss to guilt to ‘Sweet pea, you sure it’s OK?’ to bliss once again when you braced your weight against the sink and started moving your ass gently in time with your breaths. Then that tender brown gaze fell to the space between your body and his, and Joel just watched you fuck him, groaning each time your hole stretched.

There wasn’t a thought in his mind that wasn’t obscene. Practically monopolized by primal need, Joel Miller saw his cock glide back and forth inside you and seemed to be capable of conjuring no other thought than ‘mine.’

‘This sweet little peach is all for me, ain’t it, baby?’ Words as soft as velvet came tumbling off his lips, and he scarcely even knew he was talking, or grinning, or doing much of anything but fucking you and loving every second. The fingers of his left hand kneaded your hip while the ones on his right moved over your front. Thick, callused, and quickly soaked in your arousal, his middle finger made an easy trail to your clit and started rubbing.

You clamped your teeth tight in an effort to contain a cry. You whined into Joel’s touch, throat humming with that pathetic little sound as his groin sank deep to find the backs of your thighs and—finally—was inside you fully.

Words barely registered in your brain above the whir of your pulse in your ears, the pleasure unfurling from this strange new place, but Joel made sure you heard it when he leaned back in and murmured, ‘C’mon, baby, who’s this hole belong to, huh?’ as he tilted his hips up, body blanketing yours completely from behind. When you couldn’t contain the cry this time and your mouth fell open in a moan, he took that as his chance to slide his tongue inside and start to thrust, pinning you to the sink.

“You,” you whimpered feebly into his mouth. His tongue and the sounds of wet, sticky skin colliding over and over again all but drowned out what you were trying to say.

“What’s’at?” Joel returned, equally muffled but in far greater control of his words, it seemed, “This for him?”

“N-N-No, Joel.”

“Whose is it, then?”

You tried to answer ‘You’ again, but a shockwave of pleasure stole the air from your lungs, and you just whined in Joel’s mouth once more, head tilted limply to him as he shook your whole body with thrusts. You reached back to find a forearm, a hand, anything of his to anchor yourself, and you felt his fingers grip yours. Then he brought your hand and his up to the mirror, and he placed them flat on the glass—his big one overtop, dwarfing your own—and his hips picked up their speed.

Your lips parted just long enough to tilt your gaze ahead—Joel’s face and yours resting side-by-side in the mirror while he fucked you faster and deeper and grit his teeth.

“Use those words,” he seethed. Groaning when you clenched around him, nipping the cusp of your cheek.

If there was any doubt of what primal urges could do to a man like Joel, you were seeing it now. Feeling him stuff you full, pull back, and crash his hips into yours again and again while those sharp incisors took the tiniest, teasing, feral bites, it was like watching him come undone before he’d even cum inside you. His irises reduced to two minuscule rings around black, dilated pools; torso caging you in; breaths and groans and helpless moans commingled in a hot, plaintive medley.

Joel was too old to get jealous, and yet, he had never in his life wanted to hear the words that you were his and his alone more than he did right now, fucking you raw in a hole that had never been breached by anyone but him.

Your gaze remained on his in a sweet, near-innocent look—a staggering feat for someone getting their ass fucked bare in a dirty bar bathroom—and beneath his hand, he felt you squeeze his fingers. Your cunt fluttered too.

“It’s yours, Joel.”

The head of Joel’s cock took a nosedive to the furthest depths of you, as far as he could manage it, and he kept fucking you there, like he couldn’t bear to leave it.

“Say it again,” he said, voice hoarse. Pleading.

With what little strength you had, you laced your fingers with his on the mirror so he was holding your hand in a fist. Then you pressed your knuckles to the glass, squeezed as hard as your muscles would allow, and met his thrusts gently, keeping your eyes on him all the while.

“I’m all yours,” you returned—and when the hulking man with his grey, sweat-dampened hair and dark eyes and arms locked tight around your frame let out a whimper, you knew you’d said exactly what Joel needed to hear.

His hips canted wildly, quietly into your own, those tough and stubbled lips releasing sounds like you’d never heard before; never even thought possible for a man his size and stature with such a replete desire for dominance. This Joel was needy, panting in your ear while nudging his nose to the shell of it, ‘Baby, please keep fucking me, please, just, fuck—’ and seizing your hand, your waist, whatever flesh he could find while his cock pummeled a desperate and frenzied pace inside you. And, as much as you wished that glimpse of him would last, it was also what sent you both over the edge in the seconds right after. Your toes curled into cool checkered tile, Joel’s hand made an even tighter fist, and together, you trembled and cursed and groaned through your highs like it was the first you’d ever felt. In a way, it was.

As new to you as it was to him, that feeling pulsed and throbbed between your bodies in a shockwave of pure satiety. It left you breathless. Boneless. Slumping inward and into each other, at length, until your full weight was pressed onto that porcelain sink, and you were sure the force would tear the fixture off the wall at any second.

Fortunately, it didn’t budge.

Joel leaned even further into you and exhaled.

Evidently, the sink beneath you was the furthest thing from his mind, and all he could do was keep fucking his cum deeper while the spray of his spend was still fresh on your walls. Gently, but with intent, he drove his cock back and forth. He felt a drop or two trickle out of your wet, stretched hole and groaned, then kissed your neck.

Still in awe of what had just happened. What you’d said. Trying hard not to grin too big when he felt your walls clench around him, and you let out a low, shaky sigh.

“Feelin’ okay, baby?”

You smiled back.

“Just peachy.”

#EVERY DAY I SAY ‘MORNING’ INSTEAD OF ‘GOOD MORNING’ BECAUSE IF IT WAS A GOOD MORNING I WOULD’VE WOKEN UP WITH JOEL’S **** IN MY ***#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you

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hannieehaee · 3 days

Note

How about yn taking care of Jeonghan's broken ankle ?

content: idol!jeonghan x nonidol!reader, established relationship, massage, mentions of nudity and showering together (not explicit), mentions of his injured ankle, fluff, etc.

wc: 1213

a/n: genuinely believe he'd either immediately feed into being taken care of or fight you all the way through it. there's no in between

masterlist

"yah! i already told you you don't have to do this!", whined jeonghan despite his clear struggle to get himself up from bed.

"baby, it's only been a few days since you got the cast on. i'm going to help you, i don't care how stubborn you are," you argued back, still helping him up by offering your shoulder for him to lean on.

with a frustrated yet playful groan, jeonghan used your arm for support, struggling to get up from the bed as you helped him get on his two feet with the support of the crutches you'd been holding out for him.

he grumbled a 'thank you' and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek when he finally got a firm hold of his crutches and was able to stand on his own, making his way out of the room with you following behind.

jeonghan always enjoyed being the caretaker in every relationship in his life. whether it be for his parents, sister, members, or you, jeonghan felt an innate need to take care of others in every way he could.

however, after recently hurting his ankle and requiring surgery for it, jeonghan had found himself unable to work his way through his usual daily tasks, not entirely used to the current state of his ankle.

he realized that his situation wasnt too bad. it couldve been worse, after all. but it was still proving to be quite an inconvenience, specially as he was bound to stay home for a few months while his members continued to work and tour without him.

jeonghan knew how lucky he was to have you stay home with him to tend to his every need, – even to an exaggerated extent – but he still couldnt help but fight you in every step of the way, insisting that you taking care of small tasks such as getting up to get a water bottle for him or brushing his hair in the morning was completely unnecessary. he enjoyed being tended to immensely, but he simply felt badly about having you go out of your way, unable to give anything back in return.

unfortunately for him, you were equally as stubborn as him, refusing to not care for the poor boy as he pretended not to struggle through simple tasks.

"hannie! stop moving! just let me wash you, okay?"

"you don't have to help me bathe! i can still move my arms!", he whined, throwing his head back in a petulant manner.

"jeonghan!" you grabbed his face in your hands and made him look at you, groaning at the pleased look on his face at knowing he was wearing you down, "i'm going to help you! i don't care if you can do this on your own, i want to take care of you, okay? now sit your ass down and stay still while i wash your hair. understood?"

he grinned at your serious demeanor, finding the furrow of your eyebrows and pout of your lips to be extremely adorable, even if he was driving you crazy. he nodded in a childlike fashion and gave a response of 'yes ma'am' before leaning back against you and letting you squirt some shampoo on his head.

it was easy for him to relax in your hold as you ran your hands through his hair, becoming extremely sleepy at the soft scratches against his scalp. humming against you, he murmured thank you's for being so nice to him despite him being a pest.

you shushed him with a kiss to his bare back and continued taking care of him. you knew how hard he worked, and how he was likely sore in all other areas of his body due to his endless and extraneous work. truly, you were kind of taking this break as an excuse to pamper him in ways you'd always wanted to – except that in regular circumstances, he would always pull a fast one on you and flip the cards, taking care of you instead.

after washing him up (and him insisting he help you wash up too), you helped your pretty boy get dressed and make his way to bed, where you held him in your arms as you attempted to sleep.

after feeding him his medicine, you fell into slumber next to each other, holding onto one another for warmth. falling asleep next to him was your favorite part, as you knew he was fully relaxed and no longer in pain – and he also couldnt fight you when you'd gradually wake up to check in on him.

it had now been a few weeks since jeonghan's surgery. the cast had been removed, but he still struggled a lot with soreness and was advised to stay home for a few more weeks. however, this did not derail you in your insistence to aid him with tasks such as bathing every so often or making his meals.

it took a bit for you to realize, extremely sleepy after a long day at work, – having only gone back a few days due to jeonghan's insistence – but jeonghan began fidgeting in the middle of the night, letting out quiet groans of complaint. blinking the sleepiness out of your eyes, you sat up to check what was wrong, making him sigh at being caught struggling (god forbid).

"baby? what's wrong?"

"nothing, angel, go back to sleep," he dismissed, sitting up and bringing his legs up to sit cross legged, pulling his hurt ankle higher up so he could rub at it.

"is it hurting, hannie?"

he nodded, wincing when he rubbed particularly hard. that's when you intervened, helping him turn towards you so you could take his foot into your own hand.

"let me help, okay?" you murmured, giving him a look of compassion that practically begged for him to not fight you on this.

likely very sleepy and worn down, he nodded silently, humming when your hands began to expertly rub at his foot, making him groan in appreciation at how well you were able to rid him of the soreness.

you massaged his foot silently for a few minutes, enjoying the low groans of pleasure jeonghan occasionally let out at the pain relief you were giving him.

"how are you so good at it?", he breathed out, eyes closed in relaxation.

you chuckled, "i did some research. wanted to make sure you didn't feel any pain as you healed."

he groaned adorably, "you're an angel," he breathed in complete relaxation, "don't deserve you."

"yeah, i know," you giggled.

"yah!"

"sorry, hannie. love you," you stopped for a second to grab at one of his hands and kiss the back of it, letting go to go back to his ankle.

jeonghan had different plans, though, grabbing onto your hand and pulling you to him, once again cuddling you on your shared bed.

"hannie, the massage-"

he grumbled, shaking his head, "feel so much better already. wanna sleep with you now, okay? just lay with me," he nuzzled his head into your hair, stubborn in the way he held you far too close to him (but just close enough).

"love you," he murmured, "thank you for taking care of me this past month."

"you're so fucking annoying," you rebutted, "love you more."

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen #svt #seventeen oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios

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stawbeemilk · 3 days

Text

⤷ when they're jealous – hq

✩ characters: various

✩ warnings: none

✩ a/n: sorry for being so inactive lately, i've been busy working on my ac island hehe

⭑ gets possessive

this guy is definitely the jealous type. as much as he tries not to, he always ends up letting his emotions get the best of him, and whenever he happens to catch someone else hitting on you he can't help but become all possessive over you. once he notices them getting a little too close for his liking he won't hesitate to approach the two of you, immediately interrupting the conversation by asking you who they are, and making sure to refer to you by a pet name as a not so subtle way of letting the other person know exactly who you belong to. gets super clingy with you afterwards, refusing to leave your side and making sure everyone around you knows that you're his.

⤷ kageyama, yaku, kuroo, yahaba, semi, futakuchi, atsumu

⭑ acts unbothered

pretends he doesn't care, but on the inside he's furious. he can't help but narrow his eyes at the other person, watching as you erupt into laughter at one of their jokes— even though it wasn't really that funny. once the interaction is over he'll try his best to keep up the act, finding himself becoming more reserved than usual as he attempts to hide the fact that someone else flirting with you made him far more irritated than he’d like to admit. it isn't until you call him out on his obvious jealousy that he gets all embarrassed, shocked that you noticed so easily because he genuinely believed that he was being subtle. he will probably try to deny it, but deep down he knows it's pointless as you somehow manage to always see right through him.

⤷ tsukishima, kenma, kunimi, sakusa, washio, suna, shirabu

⭑ ready to throw hands

will definitely try to fight anyone who dares to hit on you, to the point where he's basically your own personal guard dog. not only will he refuse to tolerate anyone flirting with you, he won't let them get away with looking at what's his either. as soon as he realises someone has been staring at you for a little too long, he'll be quick to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into him, all while glaring daggers at the person who had the nerve to shamelessly check you out like that. he might get a little defensive about it afterwards, especially if you start teasing him, but whenever someone starts eyeing you up and down like that he just can't stop himself from getting protective of you, simply because he hates the thought of anyone making you uncomfortable.

⤷ kyotani, iwaizumi, tanaka, konoha, aran, nishinoya, matsukawa

⭑ feels insecure

it's not that he believes you would ever be unfaithful, because he trusts you completely— it's just that deep down he thinks you're too good for him and that you could do way better. when he sees someone else trying to flirt with you he can't help but feel a little nervous, insecure thoughts plaguing his mind as he begins worrying that he's not good enough for you. he probably won't say anything to you about it afterwards, but you don't miss the sad look in his eyes or the way he appears to be trapped in his own thoughts. you know by now that he needs a lot of reassurance due to his tendency to overthink, and so you always remind him that he's good enough at times like these when you know he needs to hear it the most.

⤷ akaashi, koganegawa, asahi, hanamaki, tendou, yamaguchi

⭑ super touchy with you

whenever he gets jealous he finds himself unable to keep his hands off you. he's definitely the type to wrap his arms around your waist when you're in the middle of a conversation with someone else, hugging you from behind and leaning his head on your shoulder. it always manages to catch you off guard, wondering why he's being so affectionate with you all of a sudden, but with the way he scowls at the other person and pulls you into him it doesn't take you long to figure out that he's jealous. he won't be able to keep his hands off you for the rest of the day, asking you for cuddles or wanting to hold your hand, and pouting when you start making fun of him for it.

⤷ bokuto, oikawa, sugawara, osamu, hinata, lev, daishou

⤷ please do not repost my works on any other sites!

#★彡 elle’s writings .ᐟ #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #various x reader #haikyuu various x reader #kageyama x reader #kuroo x reader #atsumu x reader #tsukishima x reader #kenma x reader #sakusa x reader #suna x reader #iwaizumi x reader #akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #sugawara x reader #osamu x reader

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 1 day

Text

You Could Be Mine

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut

It was a hot summer evening and you found yourself on a private party on a 100 m yacht in Monaco hosted by none other than Lando Norris. Actually, you weren't initially invited, your best friend was, but when she mentioned to Lando that you were in town too, he was more than happy to send you a verbal invitation through her.

Lando and you have a history together. You met a year ago in a club when you were visiting Monaco for the first time. He was your friend's friend and from the first moment you laid eyes on each other there was an undeniable attraction between you two. You spent 3 unforgettable wild nights together back then, but there has never been anything more since then.

And here you were again, back in town, at his party. There was quite a lot of people for a private party, a lot of girls too, but his eyes were glancing at you the whole night. You could feel his gaze searching for you, but you also saw how many girls around him were practically begging for his attention and you weren't gonna be one of them.

You don't want him that much, you thought.

That's why he couldn't wait to catch you alone somewhere. Once you wandered onto the upper deck, the highest one where was no people, Lando saw his chance and took it. You two quickly got into talking. He was so obviously flirting with you, he really wasn't wasting any time, he wanted to let you know that you've been on his mind and that he didn't forget about your nights together.

"So for how long are you staying in Monaco?" He asked stepping closer to you holding his hands in the pockets of his white linen pants.

"Two more nights." You say biting your lip.

"That's such a shame.." Pulling them out of his pockets, one of his hands finds its way to your cheek and the other to your waist pulling you closer to him. "If only I'd known sooner that you were here..."

"And why is that?" You ask glancing at his lips as his thumb caresses your cheek.

He runs his tongue over his lip then gently traces with his finger over your bottom lip before mumbling "What if I told you I've been getting off to the thought of you?"

You smirk squeezing your thighs hoping he wouldn't notice it while your faces are only inches away from each other's.

"It wasn't easy to forget you either, I must admit"

"Yeah?" He asks and you nod putting your hands against his chest looking up at him. "So what are we gonna do about it then?"

"Well, you tell me"

"I'd rather show you" He murmurs before he finally presses his lips against yours. The kiss gradually changed from gentle and slow to fast, passionate and heated. He was hungry for more of whatever this was between the two of you. His tongue ran over your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you willingly granted.

"Fuck, I forgot what a good kisser you are" He pants and you blush hiding your face in his shoulder. He gently moves your hair out of your neck so he can leave sloppy kisses that send tingly feelings through your body.

His hand slowly comes between your thighs slowly working its way up under your short dress as you slightly part your legs for him. Just as his fingers were about to reach your wet lace panties, a squeaky female voice interrupts you.

"Lando!" The girl screams from downstairs making you quickly close and squeeze your thighs at the loss of his touch as he pulls back from you. "Where are you? Are you coming down?" The girl asks climbing a few stairs to see him. It was the girl who had been crawling all over him all evening desperately trying to get a minute of his attention. Her gaze stops at you raising her eyebrow and eyeing you up and down.

"Give me a minute" Lando says brushing her off to which she mumbles something rolling her eyes, clearly annoyed at his lack of interests, and leaves.

"Is that your girlfriend to be?" You provoke.

"She'd like that, but she never will be" He reassures you once again pulling your body closer to him. "But you could be" You giggle, but don't say anything to his unexpected proposal?

"I'd love to fuck you against this fence now," He whispers squeezing your hips. "But I'll do that in the morning when everyone leaves"

"What makes you think I'll be here in the morning?" You tease him.

"There's no way I'm letting you go before I show you how much I've been thinking about you." He groans as you slowly lift your leg and press your knee lightly into his crotch. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy..Come with me right now"

Lando goes down the stairs first and you follow behind him. He takes your hand leading you as you two disappear unnoticed into one of the rooms on the yacht.

As soon as the door closed he was pressing you against them forcing his tongue inside your mouth and lifting up your dress. You whimpered as he vigorously turned you around pulling your panties to the side and gently pushing your cheek against the hard surface of the door. He slipped his fingers inside you only to spread your wetness all over your slit and over his tip before teasing you with it.

"Lan" You moaned.

"What baby?" He murmurs into your ear rubbing his cock over your folds, but not pushing himself in. "Tell me what you want"

"Stop with the teasing and fuck me already"

"Fuck, you turn me on so much you don't even know. Feel how hard you make me? It's fucking aching for you" He hisses grinding against your ass.

He positions his cock at your entrance and you eagerly push your ass back on him. You were dripping wet so he slid in without the slightest trouble.

"So ready for me" He groans scraping his teeth over your bare shoulder making you shiver. "You're so tight baby, fuuuck"

He was thrusting into you deep and fast, your ass was grinding back against his pelvis as the sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room. You were so into each other that you weren't even trying to be quiet. You almost forgot that anyone could walk by the room and hear your moaning.

As the familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach started building, from the other side of the door, the squeaky voice of the girl who interrupted you once was heard again.

"Lando?"

"Shit" The voice snaps you back to reality as he abruptly stops moving making you whine ruining your orgasm.

"Lando, are you in there?" She asks again. He puts his hand over your mouth breathing heavily as he slowly starts moving again.

"Should I tell her how deep inside of me you are?" You ask quietly removing his hand from your mouth.

"She's fucking crazy, and I don't want anyone to touch you" He pulls out of you and turns you around to face him.

"I'm not scared of her, I know she can't have you the way I can" You didn't even mind that she was behind the door because you knew you had all his attention, you knew he was starving only your touch.

You start kissing his wide neck, running your tongue over the veins that were popping out as he throws his head back.

"Fuck, she's not even half of you"

He reaches under your ass tapping your thighs signaling you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. When you do so he leads you to the bed gently throwing you down and getting on top of you.

"I missed you" He says looking at your lips before you connect them. You were clinging to each other as he started thrusting into you again only this time slow, deep and raw. He was enjoying the feeling of your walls tightly hugging him.

"I missed you too" You were moaning into each other's mouth, gasping for air as both of you were getting closer and closer. "Faster, Lan, please"

"You gonna cum with me?" He asks. You nod and he quickens his pace. "I'm n-not pulling out, okay?" His voice cracked and legs trembled. You didn't even have time to answer as your climax penetrated your whole body. Lando's quickly followed by filling you up to the top.

"Ohh fuuck" He moaned before collapsing down on you.

When your breathing calmed down he propped himself up on his elbows looking at you and caressing your cheek before placing a soft kiss on it. "You okay, baby?" He asks.

"Yeah" You blush at the nickname he didn't call you by the last time you were together.

"Why are you blushing?" He asks smiling, but you're too shy to say why. "Tell me"

"I'm not telling you"

"Is it because I called you baby?" You giggle trying to hide your face to the side from him, but his fingers pull your chin back to face him. "I'm not letting you leave Monaco this time. You're staying here with me."

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 fluff

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oh-stars · 2 days

Text

Now that I’m back working retail, I can’t get the image of Corroded Coffin becoming one of the vintage band tees you see on graphic tee walls. They’d be up there with Metallica and Black Sabbath, made for everyone to wear for the fashion of it rather than their love of the band.

Everyone would expect Eddie to be outraged when it first starts to happen — all these fake fans and posers wearing his merch without knowing who he is at all. And at first, sure he didn’t love it but at the same time… money is money and he’s got kids to put through school. His own are already out of college, with their fancy degrees and stable jobs, but a slew of nieces and nephews, and a few great ones now (Jesus Christ he’s old) from the Party that are even smarter than their genius parents and those tuitions aren’t cheap. Famous Uncle Eddie feels like it’s his duty to help with their tuitions to the ivys or whatever, so if Jenny, the wine mom from down the street, wants to wear a brand new, yet distressed tee with the logo he designed across the chest? Let her!

That being said, he doesn’t start loving it until they eventually reach the toddler section. Suddenly, Eddie — who previously had no opinion on whether or not his kids had kids — is begging all three of their kids for grand babies. And he’s not being subtle about it either. He buys the onesies and toddler tees, leaving them where Steve and the kids can see, shipping new designs to his kids “just in case.” All he wants is to see a baby, preferably one he knows, all done up in his merch, repping the band in a matching metal outfit. It’s not his fault all his own babies are two decades past the baby phase!

Steve doesn’t intervene, no matter how much their kids beg and plead. If anything, he thinks it’s hilarious that suddenly Eddie’s the one all baby crazy after the years of him laughing at Steve’s baby fever. Sue him.

#steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson

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xzaddyzanakinx · 3 days

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Nine: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, nude vids/pics, rape mentioned (somnophilia), gen. sexual content, Panic/Anxiety Attack, forced nudity [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin/Ghost having thoughts?? Unselfish ones?? Luke can’t stop roasting/sassing you [diary entries from Ani] [texting/letters/notes]extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: August 10th

I think enough time has passed. I think you’re ready to see Ghost again.

I thought it would take longer for you to recover, but as always, the little fawn in you is curious as ever. Quick to forget fear and ready for the newest challenge.

You’ve responded so well to everything. I’m very proud of you.

I’ve been keeping up with my visits, still cleaning, still watching, still following and protecting.

Now that you know of Ghost, I’ve started completing my tasks. I don’t have to leave anything halfway finished, the dishes are done everyday along with the vacuuming and dusting. I even mop twice a week.

And change the cat litter, which might I add, is disgusting. (Worth it though because I love that little menace.)

I thought for sure you’d run and tell me that you didn’t think the alarms I installed weren’t working, but you didn’t, you just repeatedly tested them yourself. It was very loud, very annoying and I know you could hear the woman down the hall banging her pots and pans together to fight back with her own noise. You didn’t care though, you just wanted to make sure the alarms worked.

They do work, I wouldn’t have installed fake ones, that would be stupid. I’m all for keeping you safe so… what’s one more safety measure?

I just know that they can also be very easily disarmed. Even through the inch and a half thick wooden door to your apartment. A piece of sheet metal (credit card sized) and my handy dandy super strength magnet works like a charm.

You’re such an odd bird. You haven’t told anyone, I don’t think it’s really even crossed your mind too much either. You’ve begun to pretend the cameras aren’t even there. You just go about your normal day to day life and occasionally squint and stare at random objects.

You never actually go check them out though. Is it all for show? I think it might be.

I think you like being watched. I bet it makes you feel safe doesn’t it? Knowing I’m always there for you?

——————————————————————————

You know what the best part of all this is?

Ghost will let me love you in the way that is natural and normal to me. I just hope that you’ll be willing to accept that we are one in the same.

Ghost can comfortably do all the things that I’ve been afraid to. I didn’t want to scare you, but it really was difficult not to leave you things. I’m so glad that you brought that up in your list of questions because it gave me the opportunity to act on it without you flipping out.

Do you like them? I love leaving things for you. Especially little notes.

Ghost has been kind enough to stay out of your way when I’m around, but I can resist making you squirm occasionally. Remember when I left you a note, KNOWING I’d be coming home with you later that day?

Oh babe. It was so oddly intoxicating to see the way you reacted when I got back home and pulled up the footage. You snatched up that slip of paper didn’t read it and didn’t toss it in the trash, didn’t put it in your pocket.

You shoved it in your mouth so I wouldn’t see it. Freak.

I saw it all chewed up and gross in the bathroom trash. You didn’t read it. I know you didn’t. So I’ll have to get alittle more creative.

Don’t ignore me.

DATE

August 13th

For the third morning in a row you woke up to a text from your own cellphone number.

‘Sleep well deer?’

Idiot. Can’t even spell. So finally on this third day, you sent a text back and corrected him.

‘Dear*’

Immediately a response buzzed through.

‘No.’

No? What does he mean no?

‘Little doe. My deer. 🦌’

Oh great, so stalkers use emojis and he’s given you a nickname. How cute.

You laid back in your bed and tossed your phone aside, hands covering your face as you rubbed the sleep away.

The longer this went on, the more insane you felt. This wasn’t normal, of course it’s not normal. So why are you allowing it?

You could ask yourself that a million times and you’d never find an answer.

You could throw away every flower he brought you and they’d still keep coming. You could burn every piece of paper in the city and chew every pen until it’s broken beyond repair and he would still find a way to write you a note.

You could swallow every word he writes, throw it up, flush it, whatever. It’s just going to pop back up. Gross and soggy with an amendment attached and in your panty drawer.

You thought maybe it was an important one. So you read it. Quickly discovered it was semi-important, Ghost just wanted to remind you that he loved you and he was proud of you for continuing to drink your tea even though you knew it was drugged. Once you’re out of it, he’s going to set the pills out next to your birth control. So he ‘doesn’t have to fool with measurements anymore’.

The addendum to the note was tucked inside the original:

‘Good girls swallow.’

You could ignore the trinkets, the jewelry or the pretty stones and shells. But he would just move them to a different spot and force you to eventually set it in your jewelry box along with all the others.

He’s not been bold enough to come around with Anakin in your home. The nights that Anakin sleeps over, there are no gifts, no cleaning done. No disturbances.

But Anakin doesn’t deter him completely.

He’s left you one note at Anakin’s apartment, the first time you’d slept away from your own home in ages. Ghost had the audacity to slip a note into the pocket of your shorts while you slept in the same bed as Anakin in his apartment.

It didn’t say anything, no words, just a heart in red ink. Like he just wanted to remind you that he was there and you were his whether you wanted to be or not. Anakin or no Anakin, Ghost didn’t care.

It’s been horrible lying… omitting the truth to Anakin. Sometimes you feel like blurting it out, but something always stops you. Morbid curiosity maybe. Or maybe you just like the thrill of it, that little shiver of adrenaline you get every time he makes himself known.

It would all stop if you told Anakin. Neither would quit until he’d hunted the other man down and gotten rid of him.

They’d kill each other.

——————————————————————————

Anakin worked tonight, so you had plans to meet up with Luke (sans his pet leech) for a late evening dinner. As much as you loved Han and appreciated everything he did for Luke, how happy he made him, you really just wanted some time alone with your best friend.

So you were thrilled to receive a text around 1:00pm from Luke:

‘Don’t be late. I’m dying to catch up babe.’

You quickly opened the message but before you finished typing, a voice message popped up in your notifications, sent from your number.

You abandoned the chat with Luke and opted to open the voice message instead.

‘I’m coming home.’ then a long pause, ‘have fun with Lukey.’

That scratchy filtered voice; you’d yet to hear it over the phone and this being the first time… it sent you right back to the very first time you watched Scream. That icy chill that snuck up the back of your neck, the tightening of your chest… you felt it now, just not because of fear.

You felt it because you were excited.

——————————————————————————

“Okay, seriously what do you keep looking at?” Luke prodded, snatching your phone and sliding it into his jacket pocket.

“Nothing it’s just-“

“My phone is on ‘do no disturb’, because I have missed my buddy, my pal, my best friend.” He paused, his pointer finger jabbing the table between your plate and his.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I haven’t even unlocked it! It’s just sitting there.”

“True, but the obnoxious tapping to check whatever it is you’re hoping for is getting annoying.” Honesty, brutal or not, was Luke’s love language.

“Fine. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in my pocket.” You agreed, holding your hand out palm up.

“No ma’am. This is mine until the check comes.” His answer was definitive, no room for argument there. “What’s so important anyway? I know Anakin is at work.”

“It’s just work stuff.” You huffed.

“Oh? What’s so pressing at the diner?” He scoffed, “got a big shipment of ketchup coming in? Are you ‘on call’?”

“Luke.” You rolled your eyes at his jab. “No and yes. I am ‘on call’ actually. Sara’s son has been sick.’

Not a total lie, he has been sick. Poor guy. But her husband was home with him and he was being well looked after.

“Okay? That’s your problem how?”

“God you’re so negative sometimes.” You sighed. “Her babysitter hates vomit. If he throws up Sara will have to go home.”

“Ew.” He scrunched up his nose. “I’m eating.”

“Okay? That’s my problem how?” You said mockingly.

“Really? Like for real that’s why you keep checking your phone?”

“Yes really.” Giving him a look that screamed duh’. “Her baby sitter is the 14 year old girl that lives next door to her. Do you really suggest leaving a 14 year old in charge of a vomiting 2 year old? When that 14 year old is disgusted by puke? That’s a recipe for disaster.”

It would be a disaster, her sitter is 14. She just happens to be on vacation with her mother right now. Hence the temporary stay at home husband.

“Okay, first of all, 14? Isn’t that alittle young?”

“No? I started babysitting when I was 12.” You shrugged.

“Fine.” Luke sighed. “Here.”

He slid your phone back to you and propped his chin up on his fist. Watching you check it one last time before turning on the sound and putting it in your back pocket.

——————————————————————————

‘I’m walking home now!’

You shot off the text to Anakin after saying your goodbye to Luke at the restaurant. You’d refused his offer to walk you home, you didn’t want him anywhere near your apartment building knowing that Ghost would be there.

Six minutes later he replied:

‘Good girl.🥰 let me know when you get there safe.’

‘Will do💕’

And you did, the moment you stood outside your apartment door.

‘Made it! See you tomorrow💕’

You waited in the hall to receive his response. You didn’t know what would be waiting for you on the other side of this door, and you didn’t want to chance it.

‘Perfect. Sweet dreams doll!’

Your hand poised at the door knob, you inserted your key to discover your door was already unlocked. You very slowly opened the door, but saw no one in your kitchen or living room.

But your bedroom door was closed, boogie hadn’t meowed as loudly as possible and sprinted to you, demanding to be fed. He did say that they were good friends. So they both must be in your room.

Would it be wise to lock your door? The few precious seconds leaving it unlocked would save if you needed to run… no, no. Just lock it. Doorknob. Deadbolt. Chain.

‘Just stay calm’

You kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag to the floor, walking quietly across the carpeted living room to pause in front of your bedroom. A soft yellow glow shone beneath the door, your lamp must be on. You could hear your tv playing something, not quite sure what it was, but it had the all too familiar cadence of a horror flick.

The audacity of this man astounded you.

When you pushed open the door, he was laying in your bed, shoes off, legs crossed at the ankles, propped against the headboard, arms behind his head. He looked like he belonged there. As big a contrast as it was… your soft, pink, feminine room and him. All black, the mask. He just looked so comfortable.

Your cat, the little traitor, was curled up on his chest. It was kind of sweet. How could such an inherently terrifying scenario seem so normal?

Ever so casually he tilted his head toward you, his right hand raising from its relaxed position to lazily give you gloved finger waggle for a wave.

“Have fun?” The filtered voice drifted over to you.

“Yes.” You answered quietly, glued to the spot.

“Are you just going to stand there?” He laughed. “I would come pick you up, but it’s illegal to move a sleeping cat.” He gestured to boogie who had still not moved from her human pillow.

You couldn’t help but laugh, eyebrows raised in an expression of awe filled shock. This was too weird. Too normal. Too scarily alluring.

Yet you found yourself at the edge of the bed, not really knowing how you got there to begin with.

“Sat you some pajamas out.” He said dismissively, the mask fixed onto the tv screen. “Figured you’d wanna change.”

“Huh.” You snorted, seeing that he had.

You expected to see one of your lacy lingerie sets. But he’d chosen something much more modest that you would’ve ever imagined. Loose, thin, stretchy fabric pajama pants, the matching cropped tank top, and fuzzy socks.

“Um. Thanks?” You said awkwardly, picking them up and turning on your heels to change in the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He chuckled.

“To the bathroom?” You scoffed, looking over your shoulder at him.

“You can change in here.” He wasn’t offering. He was telling you.

“No way.” You shook your head. “No I’m not-“

“C’mon little doe.” The filtered voice left little room for change in tone, but you could tell from his body language that it was a challenge.

“Ghost. No! I have Anakin I don’t-.”

He laughed. “I don’t care.”

“Well I do.”

“Mmm… not enough. You’re letting me be here. You didn’t tell him. You didn’t mention me to anyone at all actually.” He pointed out.

“Well that’s not-“

“Hush.” He snapped, making you stall. “I’ve seen that pretty little body of yours plenty of times. What’s one more?”

“But-“ your face was so red hot that you could feel the heat spreading down your neck.

“What? I’m not gonna get up.” He said plainly. “I’m comfy right here where I can watch you.”

“I don’t… this isn’t right.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me.” He scoffed. “Nothing about this is ‘right’. But you’re letting it happen, yeah?” He said and got just a nod from you in response.

“That’s it.” He moved his arm to point two fingers at you, “get on with it sweetheart. I wanna see my girl.”

“I’m not your-“

“You were mine first.” He snapped.

“Well, that’s not very fair.” Your voice shaking. “I didn’t even know you were…. I didn’t know about you!”

“That might be true.” He growled, “but it’s your fault for being so ignorant.”

“I-I don’t…” you felt like you were on the verge of a tantrum. This man was outrageous, coming into your home uninvited, being a fucking perv, acting like he owns the place, and now he’s calling you ignorant?

“Do you realize how stupid it is for you to argue with me about the morality of all this?” He asked, going back to his former relaxed state.

“You. Are allowing me to be here. You had all day to call the cops if you wanted to. But you didn’t.” That smug little bastard laughed. “I’ve been here for over two hours. You knew I’d be here when you got back.”

“That’s not-“

“I’m not finished.” He held up a finger and silenced you. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine and you will continue to be mine.”

“I don’t care that you are pretending to be appalled by the situation you are in.” His voice was even and unyielding, he was so confident in his statements.

“You know why I don’t care?” He asked, tilting his head toward you condescension oozing from every pore.

“Why?” You squeaked.

“Because I know, without a doubt, that if I were to stick my hand down your pretty pink panties; you’d be wet right now.”

How did he know what color your underwear is? Better question: why is that the first thing you thought of when there were much more pressing matters at hand?

“That’s not true.” Your voice sounded hollow.

“It’s not?” He laughed. “Show me then.”

“What?” You whispered, eyes bugging out of your head.

“Do it. Prove to me that you’re not soaked.” He snickered.

“That’s not fair you can’t just-“

“You’re not running are you? You haven’t said no, you haven’t come over here and smacked me.” He interrupted.

You stood there with your jaw dropped, you needed a dustpan and broom to sweep up your shattered facade of denial. How could you dispute that?

“Fine!” You shouted. “Fine. I’ll just change in here.”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.” He growled. “You’re awfully bold for a spoiled brat.”

“I am not a-“

“When will you stop disagreeing with me?” He laughed. “You know it’s true. I’ve spoiled you so much that you’ve rotted to your core. You weren’t always a brat, but you are now. You like being spoiled don’t you? Being taken care of, being treated like a princess?”

“Your little boyfriend does the same thing doesn’t he?” He snickered. “Spoiled. Brat.”

“You’re just a little girl who needs a man to hold her hand.”

“You’re being mean.” You whispered, your voice breaking.

“The truth is hard to hear isn’t it little doe?” He said, his voice going back to its nonchalant, flat tone.

You couldn’t argue. He’d been right about everything and it’s difficult to argue with someone who throws fact after fact at you like he’s doing. So you took a deep breath and closed your bedroom door.

“Atta girl.” He nodded. “Show me.”

So you did, you turned around and began undressing, you could feel his eyes on you, soaking up the display you were crafting for him.

“Turn around.” His voice alittle quieter, the voice box crackling.

Slowly you complied, swallowing your fear and embarrassment. You kept your eyes closed, it made you feel the slightest bit better, I’m the way a kid would think ‘I can’t see you so you can’t see me’.

“Gorgeous.” He breathed out.

Behind your eyelids you swear you noticed a change in lighting, briefly, but enough to take note of. Your eyes snapped open and saw him holding up his phone.

He’d taken a picture of you.

“Ghost, no! Delete that right now!” You squealed, quickly getting dressed in your fresh pajamas.

“Cool it.” He waved you off. “Just gonna add it to my special folder just for you. See?” He turned his screen toward you and you inched forward.

He wasn’t lying. He scrolled through over one hundred images and videos, some of you in public, some nude, some of you sleeping. All in a folder titled ‘little doe’.

“These are for me.” He said simply. “They’re not going anywhere so don’t worry about that.”

“But these…” he turned the screen back to himself and tapped twice, scrolled and then tapped again before flipping it around.

The images in front of you made you nauseous.

You, spread legs and wet cunt, up close.

You with your hand being held up by Ghost, your fingers buried deeply between your folds.

A short video of your pussy being lovingly stroking by a leather glove. Another of one long digit pumping into you slowly.

A picture of your lips wrapped around his cock.

“S-so you did… you did touch me?” You recoiled.

“No.” He said flatly, before you could protest he laughed.

“You loved it.” He snickered. “Never let you cum. I wanted you to be needy for me.”

“Until… until I saw you.” You whispered.

“Mhm, that’s right.” He nodded. “Took care of your poor swollen pussy properly that time.” He cooed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“You’re sick.” You breathed out. “That’s disgusting… you-“

“Call the cops.” He said gesturing to your phone laying on the bed.

“What?”

“You heard me. Call ‘em.” He snorted. “If I’m so sick and disgusting and you’re soooo horrified by my actions; call the cops. I’ll wait right here.”

“Are you gonna send those to Anakin?” Your voice wobbled as you ignored his challenge. You both knew you wouldn’t call.

“Not if you’re good.”

“Are you gonna hurt him?” You asked quietly.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” He scoffed. “I want you all to myself, but I want you to choose me. I’m not gonna go all Dexter on your boyfriend.”

“You promise?” You sniffled. “Swear it?”

“Pinky swear.” He said confidently, holding out his hand with his little finger raised.

For some reason you took it. You believed him. He hadn’t gotten up and forced you to do anything, he stayed right there the whole time. He had yet to share those pictures with Anakin. A million other twisted reasons you’d started to accept that this was becoming a new normal. A thousand other things that pushed you to believe him.

He’d only bruised your self image with his cold, hard truths about you. That’s not a crime. That’s a reality check.

“Good choice little doe!” You could practically hear the beaming smile on his face behind the plastic mask.

“Now come up here.” He patted the spot next to him. “I don’t like seeing you upset, I’m sorry.”

He was apologizing? He was apologizing.

“You’re sorry?” You repeated in shock.

“Of course I’m sorry. You’re on the verge of tears and I’ve caused it.” He said, holding out his hand palm up for you to take.

“I’m not a monster.”

You hesitated before accepting his hand and climbing into bed beside him. You sat a safe distance from him at first but he lolled his head to the side in what you assumed was a dramatic eye roll and tugged you to his side in a one armed swoop.

The action had you frozen. This was it. He was gonna hurt you. You’d been naive and stupid and he was going to violate you, this time while you were conscious, you’d remember it this time.

“Relax.” He soothed, tucking you comfortably against his side, his bicep behind your head as a pillow and his gloved hand on your side in a way that was almost comforting. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered, what the fuck is happening?

“No, it’s not okay. I could’ve been more gentle with my words.” His opposite hand rubbing his knuckles across your cheek lovingly.

You were quiet for a moment, debating on the course of action you should take. You were in fact very much allowing this to occur. Would it be so horrible to try and enjoy it? He was warm. He smelled nice and familiar, the cologne… you must have a subtle memory of it from all the times he’d been here while you slept. He was comfortable. He was surprisingly kind.

What’s the worst that could happen?

“Before you get comfy.” He spoke quietly, the voice box crackling from his low voice, “you didn’t take your pill.”

“Oh yeah you’re right.” You moved to get up, pink cheeked because once again he proved that you were in fact helpless without him.

“Don’t get up, I have it right here.” He chuckled, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you the pill packet and a thermos. “Tea.”

“Huh.” You stared at him. Gods this was so fucking weird. “Well… wow okay.” You huffed out a laugh and took your medicine with a sip of your tea.

“Tastes different.” You said, handing the packet back to him.

“Mhm. Yeah I poisoned it.” He said nonchalantly, making you almost choked on your second sip.

“You what?” You shrieked, waking up the cat who bolted from his lap.

“Aw look what you did,” he groaned gesturing to the empty space with a few stray cat hairs.

“You- are you serious?” You started to almost hyperventilate. “Should I make myself throw up?”

Why are you asked the man who poisoned you that? Like he’d tell you.

“No, that would be a waste of good tea.” He snorted. “I put cinnamon in it you idiot.”

“What?”

“Cinnamon.” He repeated. “It’s just cinnamon. It was a joke.”

“That’s not fucking funny!” You shouted, smacking his shoulder.

“Ive already told you once.” His hand shot out and grabbed your jaw firmly. “Do not. Raise. Your voice. At me.” He growled.

“I believe you meant to say ‘ha-ha, ghost that was funny. you got me!’” He snickered and released your jaw, soothing you with his hand now gently raking through your hair.

You were stunned. Absolutely shook by his quick turnaround, this should be terrifying. This man can be so gentle one moment and the next he’s speaking to you like he’s ordering you to lay down at the guillotine. It wasn’t terrifying in the right way. Not the type of fear you should be feeling at his unpredictable actions.

You weren’t scared of him at all. But yourself? Yes. Who is this girl? Why is she… why do you like this? It’s scary because you’re not scared. It’s horrifying because you want more. It’s terrifying because you’re morbidly curious about what he’d do if you acted out again.

You shook your head and picked your jaw off the floor, deciding the best course of action was to just tuck yourself back under his arm and watch whatever movie he had paused when you entered the room.

Might as well. You’ve already come this far.

Date

August 14th

When you woke up the next morning Ghost was gone. Your home was devoid of any trace of him, no note, no gift, no messages. Nothing.

He had hardly moved while you sat with him, the only consistent movement was the gentle twist and twirl of one long lock of your hair around his finger. It was repetitive and soothing, just like the calming rise and fall of his chest.

How could he be so calm? So off guard?

You could’ve turned on him at any moment. Ripped off his mask and saw who he was, grabbed your lamp and wacked him with it. Punched him in the nuts and ran.

But, to be fair, he could’ve done the same to you. Yet you stayed there, albeit anxious and on high alert for majority of the time spent with him. Despite the fact that you knew he carried a weapon, even though you were well aware of what he’d been doing to you all this time, even after he’d manhandled your face when you smarted off to him.

It must be a twisted form of mutual trust.

Or you might just be delusional.

Either way, it was wrong and you knew that. You intentionally got naked in front of another man, while he laid on the bed your boyfriend so sweetly makes love to you in. You fell asleep in the arms of this man. Not just *any* other man, the one who has been stalking you relentlessly for months.

You’ve cheated on Anakin. If he knew, it would crush him. It would break apart his big, soft, velveteen heart. Your betrayal would rip a hole right through the middle and slice up the fabric so badly it couldn’t be sewn back up without ending up smaller, weaker, and deformed.

What could you do? Was there anything to do? Telling him to his face… the thought of it soured your stomach so badly you thought you might form an ulcer.

Telling Ghost to fuck off and leave you alone wasn’t an option either. No matter what you did, the precautions you put in place; he would find you. Not only would he find you, but he wouldn’t allow Anakin the privilege of breathing anymore.

You couldn’t tell Luke. He’d lecture you until your ears bled while he dragged you to the nearest police station. Then Luke would be in danger, Anakin would know, and Ghost would still be your problem. And if Luke didn’t believe you, he’d ship you off to the long term care loony bin.

Your sister? Of course you couldn’t tell her either. She has her own family. Ghost already knows where she lives, he’s told you so.

He knows everything about you. Your family tree, your friends list, your schedule, your medical information, banking account, he has complete access to your home, your phone…

You are a canary in a cage and he is a cat pawing at you through the metal bars.

It’s only a matter of time before one of those claws nicks you. A feather or two might come loose, open up a weak spot on your frail body. The next swipe might draw blood, maybe it won’t. Or maybe he’ll be lucky enough to bat you to the bottom of the cage.

It’s hard enough to escape when there’s someone always watching. When there’s a lock on the door. But to attempt to flee with broken wings? You couldn’t hobble your way to safety anyway. Bird cages don’t have doors at the bottom, they’re halfway up. They don’t have horizontal bars. You can’t climb.

You are stuck.

It’s up to you if you want to be trapped there intact, or if you’d rather wallow at the bottom in pain.

——————————————————————————

Maybe you should just break up with Anakin.

Ghost said he wouldn’t hurt him, but how long will that last? How long until he gets tired of waiting? Should you ask Ghost again? Just to make sure? Make him sign a fucking contract?

Maybe it would be best if-

“Sweetheart?” Anakin whispered softly, waving his hand in front of your face. “What’s going on? I’ve been standing here for almost a minute.”

Anakin was here.

“What?” You whispered back, suddenly overwhelmingly aware of your surroundings.

The diner. You were at The Bluebird. You were working. A glance to the clock told you that you’d been here for over two hours, a quick scan of the tables and the counter proved that you hadn’t neglected any customers. Your notepad and pen were in your hand, there was money in the tip jar.

Anakin was here.

“Hey, c’mere.” His voice soft and concerned.

He gently took the pad and pen from your hands, put an arm around your shoulder and held your hand as he led you through the kitchen. Not an uncommon occurrence, Anakin was well known to everyone at the Bluebird due to his frequent visits to see you. He often walked with you out through the kitchen to sit on the curb with you while you took a break and he smoked a cigarette.

“Vigo, I’m taking her out back.” He said quietly, speaking to the dishwasher.

“I was about to call you man.” He spoke back in a hushed voice. “She’s been actin’ like that since she got here.”

“Yeah? Well next time don’t wait to call.” Anakin grumbled, scowling at your coworker.

The heat of the afternoon sun soothed over your skin, making you painfully aware of the cold sweat lacing the back of your neck. You blinked and it felt like it was the first time you’d closed your eyes in hours. Your mouth was dry, your teeth felt cold and your brain might’ve been better described as soup.

Anakin sat down on the curb and pulled you down with him. Placing you sideways between his legs, your arms immediately threw themselves around his neck and you curled up into him.

“Jesus baby.” He whispered, the wind getting knocked out of him at your aggressive tackle.

“An-” You started to sob before you even finished his name.

“W-what’s wrong?” You could feel his heart beat quicken beneath you, hear it pounding in his chest. He was feeling real, true panic.

“Hey, hey talk to me. Breathe.” He tried to soothe you by petting your hair, rocking you gently, kissing your forehead… anything, anything he could think of and nothing was working.

You were sobbing so loudly that Anakin was glad there wasn’t a back parking lot. If someone wanted to see where this horrible wailing was coming from they’d have to walk all the way around back, thankfully most people didn’t care enough to do such a thing.

Unfortunately though, your coworkers did care.

The back door creaked open and you could hardly hear the conversation over your own tears.

“Anakin!” Vigo whisper shouted. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t do this!” His voice angrily gritting through his teeth. “What happened today?”

“Nothin’ man! I dunno!” Vigo squeaked raising up his hands in surrender. “She just clocked in like that, no cryin’ though. She’s hardly said a word.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me!” Anakin grunted, “I’m her emergency contact for a reason you idiot.”

“Hey? Don’t get mad at me!” Vigo scoffed. “I figured she was in a funk because of you, why would I call if I thought it was boyfriend troubles?”

“Jesus- did you even ask her?”

“What?”

“Oh my fuckin’-“ Anakin took a breath to regulate himself, one arm firmly holding you while the other was wildly gesturing as he spoke. “Did you ask her what was wrong?”

“No?”

“Are you stupid? God just fuck- go back inside before you end up crying on the ground too.” He snapped at him, huffing as the back door shut behind a quickly retreating Vigo.

“Sorry baby, I’m sorry,” He whispered, petting your head and squeezing you tightly. “I’m sorry, that probably didn’t help did it?”

“N-not really.” You hiccuped out a laugh.

“She speaks.” He gasped, “want me to yell at him some more? I’ll do it just say the word-“

“Anakin-“ you snorted, wiping your eyes and nose on his shirt. “Aw shit sorry.”

“You think I’m worried about alittle snot?” He scoffed, “Sweetheart, I’d lick it out of your nose like a cow if you’d let me. C’mere I’ll prove it.”

He stuck out his tongue and flicked it at you, chasing your face as you squirmed away from him. Despite to horrible ache in your lungs and the scratchy feeling in your throat, Anakin had a way of making everything better. Even if it was accomplished by making a fool of himself.

You laughed in spite of trying to catch your breath, fighting those awkward stalled inhales with a the goofy little giggle only he could force out of you. He relented finally when you gave up struggling, opting for a kiss on the tip of your nose rather than his tongue up your nostril.

“Wanna talk to me now?” He asked quietly, his playful attitude tucked away and replaced with seriousness.

“I don’t know Ani.” You sighed, feeling horribly conflicted. “I just want to go home.”

“Then I’ll take you home.” He said, not leaving room for argument. “But I’m not letting you get up until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Please? Please I don’t wanna talk about it.” Your eyes already filling back up with tears.

“It’s nothing really! It’s okay.” You pleaded with him, “I’m just… I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff and it’s all overwhelming.”

“That’s not okay, don’t say it’s okay. You just wailed like a banshee.” He said sternly. “Talk, let me help.”

“I just feel like I’m losing my mind.” You scoffed, “Im going nuts. I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it without you thinking I’m insane.”

“Princess.” He said, his voice cracking with pain. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“W-what if hypothetically…” you whispered. “It’s only hypothetical okay?”

“Okay. Imaginary scenario, let’s hear it.” He nodded solemnly.

“Hypothetically, if I was having… nightmares of someone being in my house. What would you say.” You whispered.

“Hypothetical nightmares?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Well… I’d suggest that maybe you… go to therapy? See if you can find the root of the problem.”

Therapy? To find the root of the problem? That would work if you didn’t already know where to find the problem: in your apartment at any given moment. Hell, he was probably there right now.

“Are you having these dreams because of that night at the bar?” He asked softly, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. “You know we didn’t see anyone put anything in your drink. No one left at the same time as you but your friends.”

“Now like I said before, just because we didn’t see it on camera… it doesn’t mean that no one slipped something in your drink. Stuff like that unfortunately happens all the time.” He sighed.

“I know.” You nodded, your eyes wet and sad, you knew you weren’t drugged there. You were drugged in the security of your own home. “I know, I think maybe I was just alittle more tipsy than I thought I don’t-“

“Hey, no… it’s okay.” He soothed you. “I believe you.”

“But there was no one who followed you home from the bar. I can say that with 100% certainty okay?” He said sternly.

“Ani but-“

“Look at me.” He said sharply, his voice turning soft again immediately after. “No one followed you home. I watched that video a hundred times over from every angle possible. No one else left the bar until about 17 minutes after you and your friends left.”

“Now don’t get upset baby okay? Listen I know, I know that it scared you shitless.” He said in a pained way, his face not quite matching his tone of voice like he was having a hard time trying to decide how to respond.

“Which is perfectly valid. It’s totally okay to be terrified if you saw something like that.” He soothed you, squeezing your upper arms. “I’m not saying it didn’t happen, I would never say that. If you say that you saw something, I believe you.”

“But, just because you saw it… doesn’t mean that it was truly there. Those kind of drugs can really fuck with your head baby.” He said gently.

“I know.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes and hiding against his chest again.

Gods… this man. He really was one of a kind, not just any man or person in general for that matter, would respond so well to such a strange temporary delusion. Your past boyfriends would’ve run for the hills. But not Anakin. It was clear he wasn’t deterred easily, he was your personal emotional support pet leech.

It was strange, feeling so comfortable like this with someone you hadn’t known for very long. After this conversation you thought maybe it would be okay to tell Anakin the truth about it all. He’d handle it perfectly well wouldn’t he?

But, you can’t risk putting him in harms way. You wouldn’t know if Anakin would be safe without first speaking to Ghost. If Anakin was your pet leech… Ghost was the the neighborhood street dog who’d decided your porch was the safest place to sleep. Who would be heartless enough to kick the poor thing out without a proper meal first?

That’s the problem with strays. Give them a scrap and they’ll love you for life.

Diary Entry: August 14th

Jesus baby I’m sorry. I thought things went well last night, I didn’t mean to make you so upset. I really didn’t. I guess you weren’t ready to see Ghost after all.

That’s my fault, I apologize. I should have known better.

It’s just… you seemed kind of excited for it you know? I thought we had a good time. Was the stripping down in front of me what freaked you out so much? Or seeing the pictures? I shouldn’t have done that. I really shouldn’t have, that was too far, too fast.

I see now that I made a mistake and I plan to rectify it as soon as possible. I’m going to give you a choice, one that I really don’t want to give you. But I will for the sake of your sanity.

I’ve been selfish for too long.

I’ve not truly considered your feelings on the situation, I’ve taken your response at face value and never attempted to dig farther than that. It won’t happen again I can assure you of that. Ghost will still be Ghost, but perhaps just a bit more considerate of your opinions and boundaries.

You must understand though, it’s hard to deal with this for me too. I know it’s not fair to compare our separate sides of the situation like this, but it’s true. It’s painful to watch you get so upset over something I’ve done, knowing I can’t really resolve the issue. I don’t know how to help, or fix this.

I’ve dug myself into a hole. A Pit if you will.

How could you ever forgive me now? After all this time that I have been so stupidly self-centered… I imagine it would be unlikely that you could find it in your immensely kind soul to forgive and forget my transgressions.

Maybe not though? I do see you as a godly entity, my own personal deity. If I leave enough at the altar, bow at your feet for long enough, serve you unconditionally… maybe then you would see that I have discovered the error of my ways. You could see that I am truthful in my pursuit of repentance.

Date

August 15th

Anakin drove to the opposite side of the city to purchase your apology gifts from Ghost. He knew well enough that Luke never had a set schedule, Han was always at the gym and you were at book club. There was limited space in time and even smaller proximity of location for him to safely collect the supplies he needed.

If someone saw him buying a dozen red roses and told you about it without his knowledge… well there goes Ghost. It’d be real hard to explain that away.

So he went to the florist, chose the most beautiful bouquet he could find and tucked it away in a large brown bag with tissue paper over the top so he wouldn’t accidentally bruise the petals.

He strolled down the side walk to another small mom and pop store, just to browse through stationary and cards. Ghost needs to be alittle more classy in his opinion. Maybe if his notes are on nice paper and written in plain black ink… that could ease the discomfort of it. It’s probably not super welcoming to find a ripped scrap of paper with red ink scrawled on it now that he’s come to think of it.

It was amusing to him before, but after your display of emotion, he’s feeling guilty. Very, very guilty. There was no reason to go the extra mile on stupid little things like that.

So, pretty grey paper and matching envelopes join the bouquet.

Now he just has to find something else. It can’t be chocolate or something generic. It has to be something meaningful. Something thoughtful to solidify the sentiment behind his offer for you. Something that will push you to make the right decision.

——————————————————————————

Anakin walked into your apartment, and went straight to your bedroom, it was time for Ghost to set up his apology present.

The big red bouquet was carefully placed in the center of your bed along with the pretty stationary propped against it. Your name carefully and neatly written in **black ink** on the envelope.

Your other gift, had turned into two. A small black box accompanying a short and squat black gift bag with grey tissue paper.

He was proud of his staged display, so proud that he couldn’t wait for you to see it. He was itching for you to get home, he needed to know what you’d choose. He was dying to see your pretty face light up with joy at his thoughtfulness.

So against his better judgement, he snapped a picture of himself standing at your bedside. The photo taken from a high angle to capture just the corner of your red rose bouquet, with himself taking up majority of the frame. His mask tilted to the side and his free hand held up a gloved peace sign.

He’d wait to send it.

He wanted to see your face when the message came through.

Anakin was prepared to be patient, but he didn’t have to be patient for long. He got the notification that there was movement out front of the building, he pulled up the live feed from the stairwell camera on his laptop and excitedly jolted up out of his seat before sitting back down quickly to scoot his seat back up to the table.

He rubbed his hands together and practically combusted from the inside when he confirmed it was you. His fingers moved quickly to send the text message and just as he thought you would, you paused and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a bit of panic and maybe a bit of excitement. But mostly, Anakin was saddened to see fear. You were scared, but so brave as he watched you sprint up the steps. He shook his head and let out a deep breath, pulling up the split screen of all the cameras in your home.

You burst through the front door and slammed it shut, tossing your bag aside. Anakin turned up the volume just a bit and immediately realized that was a mistake because you yelled directly underneath the kitchen camera. The audio crackled as you shouted out for Ghost, Anakin realized then that you must think he’s still inside your home.

‘Just missed me.’ He texted quickly, watching you check your phone quickly and let out a sigh of relief as you muttered under your breath.

He thought you might text back, but why would you when you knew he was watching at that very moment?

“Hey!” You said, spinning in place, your eyes darting around to scan the room. “Where did you go? I didn’t see you!”

You rushed over to the living room window and down to the alley below, then up the fire escape, your gaze traveling over to the next building’s roof.

‘You won’t see me unless I want you to.’ He texted back.

“Jesus.” You muttered, rubbing your wrist anxiously. “I guess you want me to go to my room huh?”

‘Yes please.’

“Fine.” You sighed, kicking off your shoes as you walked over to the bedroom door, flinging it open quickly just incase he was still hiding out.

Your eyes drew to the center of your bed, the roses, the bag and box, the envelope. If the situation weren’t so strange you might consider this a romantic gesture. But it’s not, it’s not romantic and you shouldn’t want to open the gifts and sniff the pretty, sweet smelling flowers. You should want to call the police and have them haul the shit off for evidence.

“What’s all this for?” You asked alittle quieter than before, holding up your phone to read the text as it came through almost instantly as you knew that it would.

‘Letter.’

“Letter? That’s all?” You scoffed, “you did all this for a letter?”

‘It’s important.’ The response came quickly, followed by a second in rapid succession. ‘Gifts first.’

“Okay… alright. Gifts first.” You sighed, pulling your hand back from where it was inches away from the grey envelope.

The small box seemed like a good first thing to open, easy enough to snap shut if you didn’t like what you saw inside. Tentatively shifting the lid back and forth you wiggled it free and lifted the small square of padding to reveal a very nice, very ornate, obviously hand crafted hair-pin with a silver rod for the pin.

You gingerly lifted it from the box and held it in your hand to examine it, walking over to the window to open the curtains and see it more clearly. Smooth, black ceramic, gorgeously curved and curled silver fittings. But the most intriguing, the most breathtaking part of it, was the delicate lines and the daintily carved cameo in the center of the ceramic oval.

A woman standing under a willow, with a fawn at her feet.

You wanted to hate it, but how could you hate something so beautiful? How could you pretend to be unappreciative of something that clearly took time and effort to find, it wasn’t just vintage, it was antique. The fact that he’d searched for and seized the jewelry was a feat in itself.

You gingerly laid it back in its box, almost too afraid to hold it. Afraid of its fragility, afraid of what it stood for, how it made you feel. The tiny claws of emotion ripping at your throat stole your voice, you could only hope that Ghost couldn’t see your face from where you were standing or he would clearly see what he’d stirred up inside you.

You picked up the small bag and lifted the tissue paper gently, hoping it wasn’t another emotionally draining surprise.

It wasn’t draining, but it sure as hell was a surprise.

“What’s this?” You snorted, turning the bag over and dumping out a few cat toys.

You waited, checking your phone periodically but got no response. You knew he was still watching, so why wasn’t he answering? Sighing you shook your head and opted to take a look at the toys.

A felt kicker toy shaped as a bloody knife. A couple of fluffy spiders, eyeballs with bells inside, and a little vampire bat that was almost too cute to be a cat toy.

“Thanks.” You said quietly.

It was infuriating how well he knew you, he knew how to crawl into your brain and make you want more. How could you not when he did things like this? Thoughtful, well planned gifts, including your pet too. He knew that your cat was your baby and he’d taken the time to befriend her, cared about her enough to buy her things.

It made it all the more irritating that his choice of toys was just alittle funny. But you’d die before you admit that seeing the knife made you crack a grin.

Finally you decided it was time to open the envelope, as soon as you did, you understood why he’d asked you to open the gifts first.

LETTER

Little Doe,

I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. The hurt I saw, the words heard… I felt it in my soul when I watched you crumble.

My purpose is to love you, my job is to keep you safe, my goal is to make you happy. I’m only doing one of those things, it’s selfish of me to love you the way that I do. I know that.

What I’ve done is wrong, I’m aware. I can’t justify or explain it to you. Just know that the long and short of it is love, it’s not a normal love, but it’s mine and I’m giving it all to you.

There’s no way you’d understand the lengths I’d go to, the things I would do for you. You’d never comprehend how deeply I adore you. That’s okay. It’s hard for me to understand myself too.

The hairpin, it’s the goddess of the hunt and her fawn. I thought considering it all, it would be more than suitable for our situation.

You’re a saint, a deity, someone worth the labors of worship.

Goddesses aren’t meant to be touched, held, loved corporally. They’re meant to be imagined, a comforting presence that you feel all around you, bowed to in hopes of receiving grace. I’ve tried to go beyond the altar to reach you and for that I’m truly sorry.

Please, please take my offerings.

I love you, I need you, but I don’t deserve you. No one deserves attention from the heavens, especially not me. But if you are listening, if you’re willing, I’ll try my best to be the perfect follower.

So I’ll ask for a boon from my goddess:

Grant me passage on the road to repentance, or take my hand to walk through the valley.

You sat on your bed in silence for a long while, your cat coming to join you and accept the gifts left for her excitedly. It brought you a moment of peace to watch her waller around and smack the eyeballs across the floor.

So the overwhelming weight of the thin grey sheet of paper in your hand felt even heavier when she scampered off with her brand new bag toy hanging from her mouth like a fresh kill. She’d left you alone and undistracted again. Just you, your thoughts, and the suffocating silence surrounding you, the creeping tingle on your neck that told you he was still watching the cameras.

He was waiting.

So you sighed and crawled off the bed with your bouquet in tow, cutting the stems into the kitchen trash can and filling a glass vase with water to display them on the counter.

The grey paper followed you from room to room, seat to seat, from one hand to the other as you read it over and over. You could recite it by memory, it was burned into your retinas, you could still feel the indents of his pen on the paper long after you’d sat it aside, the smell of the paper dye singed your nostrils and didn’t leave even after your shower.

You thought you could clean yourself, wash your hands of the problem both literally and metaphorically.

No amount of scrubbing could rinse your brain well enough to wash away the thousands of jumbled words swirling around. You’d been trying to formulate one, just one, coherent sentence for a response. But each time you made progress, you changed your mind on the decision, you scrapped the idea, sent it to the shredder and recycled it into a slightly different, just as illegible mess.

He’s giving you an out. Take it.

Who cares if he still watches you? He won’t interfere. He won’t show up for visits, he won’t leave you gifts or notes.

He’d left you with an offering. A little piece of himself in exchange for your so called ‘divine intervention’. He was asking for the hand of god to stir the pot and serve it too. At least, that’s how he saw it.

For you it was just an awkward toss up of a bunch of jumbled pros and cons.

On one hand he was offering you freedom. Opening the bird cage and giving you the option to escape but clipping your wings, ensuring you can’t go too far.

He’d still watch, just not make an appearance… keep himself hidden like before.

This would also solidify Anakin’s safety, which you valued highly. You’d be free to have your beautiful blossoming relationship, without the worry and stress from the Ghost that haunts your apartment.

On the other hand he gave you the choice to join him in some capacity. To walk through the valley with him; would he walk two steps behind? Two in front? Or side-by-side?

It’d give you the opportunity to explore this stranger you’ve discovered living inside your mind and body. That weird itch that only Ghost can scratch, the thought of him alone just doesn’t do it for you anymore.

You’d have the chance to see who is under that mask and that was more intriguing than anything. You felt like the more you spoke to him, the more you watched him in person… maybe you’d be able to narrow it down to a few people. That might be worth the risks that come with allowing him to continue visiting.

So, you swallowed your fear and closed your eyes. A few silent moments later you spoke aloud, assuming Ghost was still listening.

“I’ll walk with you.” You said slowly, tasting the words as they left your lips. “On two conditions.”

‘What are they, deer?’ His response came instantaneously.

“You leave my friends and family alone. You swear on your life they’re safe and that includes Anakin. I mean it, I’m not fucking around about it okay?” You said confidently. “I already feel guilty enough, don’t make it worse for me.”

‘Guilty?’

“Yes guilty! I have a boyfriend, who I really, really like.” You said, feeling exhausted from the complexity of your choice. “This isn’t fair to him!”

“But it’s… it’s not fair to me either!” You said frustratedly as you blew out a long breath of air through pursed lips. “I deserve to know who you are! You’ve been watching me for god knows how long and I haven’t even heard your real voice.”

“And… and it’s not fair for you either.” You admitted quietly.

‘Why?’

“You’ve been… mostly harmless. Kind.” You confessed, considering saying more, much more. “You’ve been helpful. Despite everything you’ve done, you obviously care about me. I can’t ignore that especially now.”

‘Mostly harmless??’

‘Why ‘especially’ now?’

“You’re joking right?” You snorted in disbelief, shaking your head and trying to stifle a laugh of indignation. “You… well I mean it feels wrong to call it what it is. But- you.. you know what you did!” You crossed your arms frustratedly.

‘Ah… the extracurriculars.’

“Sure if that’s what you want to call it.” An expression of, strangely enough, amusement, crossed over your features. “What it is… well you know what it is.” You sighed.

“But for some reason… I don’t want to call it that.” You said quietly.

‘Hm. I’ll remember that.’

“I’m sure you will.” You huffed in spite of yourself, because if you were honest you’d be telling him you liked it. Your body liked it, your brain liked it, asleep or not, he’d affected you in ways you were unsure you could get with anyone else. Including your sweet and precious boyfriend, he’s too tender and loving.

“Second condition: you promise me that you’ll eventually tell me who you are.” You said firmly. “I deserve to know.”

‘I accept.’

“Okay then.” You sighed with relief and a bit of resignation. “You still have to warn me if you’re gonna be coming to visit though!”

‘Yes ma’am.’

“Ew. Add that to the list. Never call me ma’am again.” You snorted and it rolled into a full laugh when you finally looked up and caught your own gaze in your bedroom mirror. You were sitting in your room alone, speaking aloud, having a fully fleshed, seemingly one-sided conversation.

If anyone were to walk in on this scene playing out, they’d think you’ve lost your mind.

Maybe you already have.

The pendant that inspired the hairpin! I forgot to add it in sorryyyyyy

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f1byjessie · 2 days

Text

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part thirteen.

Lando places third in the Australian Grand Prix. The buzz of lingering adrenaline leaves him keyed up with pent-up energy and, coupled with a few mouthfuls of champagne from the post-race celebration, the part of his brain that stops and thinks through all of his actions before he does them is trapped in a thick, foggy haze.

You━ overjoyed to see him back on the podium and still thrumming with the nervous excitement that always comes from such a close race━ aren’t faring much better.

You’re thoroughly drunk on your happiness and Lando’s infectious exuberance when he meets you back in McLaren’s garage━ high on the euphoric bliss of his success━ only serves as an echo chamber that further encourages the thoughtless choices made under the influence of intoxicating glee.

The post-race glow that shrouds him doesn’t help, either. He’s damp with sweat and champagne, glistening beneath the lights of the garage as he’s all but manhandled around to receive a congratulating clap on the shoulder or pat on the head from every mechanic and engineer who can get their hands on him. His hair is plastered against his forehead, and his fireproofs cling to the curves and angles of his body. His cheeks are still flushed from the exertion of the race, an innocently rosy hue against his tanned skin.

There’s a grin splitting across his face, wide and unfaltering. His eyes squint with the force of it and you imagine his cheeks must be aching by now, but he seems undeterred and, when his gaze finds you tucked away in the corner with your camera poised to capture it all, it seems to grow even wider despite the seeming impossibility.

He approaches you with your name on his lips, whispered like a prayer that’s meant for your ears only. You don’t know if you actually hear him say anything at all over the din of cheers and chatter, or if you’re just remembering how he sounds in the solitude of a hotel room━ when you can pretend like the world outside doesn’t exist and let the pretenses of your relationship fall away to reveal the gnarled claws of your hearts reaching desperately towards one another.

He reaches for you now, a comforting warmth ghosting across your waist. You have just enough sense left to transform his intimate touch into a friendly hug, but the weight of his hand pressing against the small of your back and the tightness with which you wrap your arms around him betray the truth.

“Congratulations,” you murmur into his ear before pulling away. Your hands linger on his shoulders, and you can’t help it when your eyes flicker to his lips━ a deep urge settles within you, a desire to stake your claim here in front of the entire team and show them all that Lando is yours and you are his, despite what the articles written about you and Garrett might claim━ but you relinquish your hold on him when he’s beckoned away by Andrea and resign yourself to maintaining the secrecy still.

Cloak and dagger aside, being in a relationship with Lando has been surprisingly easy. Surprising in the sense that you expected there to be more conflict━ more lingering resentment or uncertainty from all that happened. But the reality is that you both slipped into your new roles rather effortlessly because the only real thing that changed was the label.

And the kissing, of course. There’s a lot more kissing.

Even still, there isn’t too much of a difference between curling up beside him in on a couch and running your fingers through his curls while listening to him gossip about the drama of the other drivers, and snuggling into his side and holding his hand while he talks about his day.

There are still things he’s making up for and he knows that, but somehow the jump between what you were before that night in Bahrain and what you are now, after, feels right.

You consider it, the jump, to be a leap of faith, and it’s brought you to the realization that the life you’d been living━ the life you’d convinced yourself to be content with━ hadn’t been enough and would’ve never been enough. There would’ve always been a part of you that remained empty, a part of you that you hadn’t realized existed until Lando soothed away the ache of its longing. You think, without him, it would’ve been left wanting and waiting for forever.

But that’s not a future that you can envision anymore, because you do have him, and he makes sure to remind you of that fact every night when you’re both safely hidden away from prying eyes.

You were, of course, still careful throughout the rest of your time in Bahrain. Maybe too careful, with the way you both avoided each other in the garage. The entire weekend of the Grand Prix, Oscar had looked like he’d wanted to ask about it━ to pick it apart and figure out how to put it back together like some sort of puzzle in a way that was so uniquely him. You’re better now, sometime during Saudi Arabia you both managed to find the middle ground between ignoring one another entirely and being so smitten with each other that you can’t look away. Oscar still looks like he wants to ask, but he also seems content to observe whatever he’s convinced himself he’s watching unfold on its own.

Everybody else is used to the closeness you share with Lando and the years of history backing your friendship. They don’t bat a lash at the fluctuations between the two of you. Most of them have seen, or at least heard about, the spats in the early days, but all of them have witnessed the attachment you share which makes it that much easier to slip, unquestioned, into Lando’s driver room.

He enters the room himself a few minutes later and seems entirely unsurprised to see you waiting for him.

He takes you in through pupils blown wide with euphoria. He’s still twitchy with the high of his win. “You gonna congratulate me for real this time?”

You beckon him closer with a curl of your finger, an instruction he’s eager to follow. He spares a fleeting moment to lock the door behind him, and then slinks over to where you’re leaned up against the wall opposite the door.

You pull him in by the collar of his fireproofs and press a slow, searing kiss to his lips.

They’re chapped━ he’s been licking them━ but it doesn’t take away from the sweetness of the champagne you can taste in his mouth or the heat that swells in your stomach when he makes a punched out, desperate noise.

His hands shake as they come up to clutch at your shirt and when you pull away, he’s breathing heavily. The pink tinge that had faded from his cheeks is back, and his gaze flickers back and forth between staring into your eyes and staring down at your lips.

“Congratulations, Lando,” you purr, before releasing your hold on his collar and gently pushing him in the direction of the bathroom door. “Now, go shower. The faster you do that, the faster we can get back to the hotel and we can celebrate.”

Lando all but stumbles into the washroom, sparing glances over his shoulder as he goes like he’s worried you’ll disappear. You give him a wave before he lets the door close behind him, and then you wait.

It feels like your fault. You know it isn’t━ or, if it is, then Lando carries just as much blame as you do━ but it feels like you should’ve known better.

You’re the one who set the rules, you’re the one who established the necessity of being careful. No PDA in public, whether it be hand holding, kissing, hugging or whatever. No anything anywhere that someone might be able to see, no matter how inconceivable it might be. It was for Lando’s safety as much as it was for yours, because you were desperate to keep him as far away as you possibly could from the danger of Garrett Ward and his fans.

But you got comfortable. You should’ve put your foot down when he’d crowded against you━ should’ve waited until you were inside the hotel at the very least and not standing in the middle of a parking building━ but you didn’t, too wrapped up in the heat of the moment and still buzzing with the rush of desire from the implication of more that you’d promised in his driver room. Now, you’re staring down at undeniable evidence of a secret that has the power to leave you ruined, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Honestly, it was all going well━ too well.

You don’t typically believe in the luck or karmic balance, but it feels hard to deny their existence now when you’re faced with proof of their work. With so much good fortune used up in such a short amount of time━ your fledgling romance, being able to keep it hidden so well, and now Lando’s win━ you feel like you should’ve anticipated some sort of catastrophe to strike and balance it all out again.

Garrett Ward’s name flashing across your screen is the harbinger of your continued misfortune. He’s made himself scarce the last few weeks and the radio silence on his end has been an enjoyable vacation away from the almost constant reminder of the deal you’re trapped in, but the incoming call from him leaves you shaken and uneven, like your legs have been kicked out from beneath you and now you’re in freefall.

When you answer, he gets straight to the point.

“We had an agreement.”

“Garrett━”

“So,” he interrupts, voice stoney and cold. “Care to explain why I woke up this morning to my agent informing me of a very incriminating picture of you and Lando Norris sucking each other’s faces off?”

You aren’t “sucking each other’s faces off”, but the picture is incriminating. There’s no denying that it’s you wrapped up in another man’s arms and kissing someone who is very obviously not Garrett. You could try and argue that the kissing isn’t technically on the lips, but you doubt that would make much of a difference when the intimacy is plain as day.

“That’s a stretch━”

“Stretch or not,” he interrupts again, “you have royally fucked up and I expect you to find a way to fix it. Unless, of course, you’ve forgotten about why you agreed to this all in the first place?”

You’ve never heard Garrett ever sound so angry before. He’s been annoyed and pissy, and he’s snapped at you with cutting remarks and sneering derision like your presence alone pains him, but he’s never been angry. The dark undertone of how he speaks and the thickening of his sharp accent forces something cold to settle in your chest.

“I don’t care that you got what you wanted out of this whole scheme, Y/N,” he continues, snarling your name. “Quite frankly, if I cared any less about you and the happiness you’ve found with Norris, I’d stop breathing. But I haven’t gotten what I’m after, yet, so you better not fuck this up anymore than you already have or you can say goodbye to everything━ Norris included.”

There’s a finality to the way he says it, like he’ll personally ensure your happiness is destroyed if he doesn’t get his own.

Garrett is aware of what he can get away with. You’ve learned this through the time you’ve begrudgingly spent with him. He doesn’t fear the consequences of his actions because the likelihood of there ever actually being any consequences is slim, and he has such an obsessively devoted fanbase that they’d turn a blind eye to any wrong doings he’s accused of.

All Garrett has to do is tell them to jump and they’re tripping over themselves to ask him how high.

You can’t believe you ever thought you could get anything out of him. It seems so unforgivably stupid now, to have tried to stoop to his level out of your pettiness towards the situation with Lando. The fact that you ever felt it justified to risk admitting your feelings on the matter with him is appalling. Garrett is a conniving, manipulative prick and you think the only person truly capable of loving him would be his mother out of a maternal devotion to her child. There is nothing redeeming about him or what he does. He is useless in every way, and you’re tired of him having so much control over you, especially when a good chunk of that control was handed to him through your own fears.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Garrett.”

He scoffs, like it’s obvious. “Because I can? Because I’ll do whatever it takes? Manchester City is my team, and I’ll be damned if I let them kick me off because a few people take issue with how I keep my company.”

“I don’t think it’s all that unreasonable to not want to associate with someone who’s a notorious prick,” you bite back.

“Maybe I am a prick,” you can practically hear the sneer in his voice, and it doesn’t take much to envision what it looks like on his face. “But I’m a prick who plays for the greatest English team in the world. The trophies prove as much.”

It feels like a slap in the face to the players that actually got those trophies for the club. Players like Jack, Erling, Kevin, Bernardo, and so many others━ who actually put in the blood, sweat, and tears that were necessary to earn them their Treble win in the prior season. Players who care about their club and team beyond the notoriety the name gives them, or how good it’ll look in the future when their Wikipedia page says they played for Manchester City under the tutelage of a legend like Pep Guardiola. Players who care about the people behind the scenes━ the coaches and physios that ensure they can do their job and do it at peak performance, and the staff like you who don’t really affect their ability to play but who still have a role in keeping everything in motion.

“You didn’t even help them get those trophies!” You exclaim, happy Lando left earlier that morning when the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon and Melbourne was bathed in the dawning light. It gives you the ability now to tear into Garrett without his concerned hovering, to be as viscious and cutthroat as you want without fear of Lando judgement.

“You were on loan to a Championship team all of last season,” you continue, “and you only got called back because of your injury. You weren’t game ready until February of this year, and even now you don’t start. You’ve been back on the pitch a whopping two times, and both of them were for the FA Cup when Pep wanted to rest up the players that actually matter. Everything City has gotten they earned without you. They don’t need you at all, Garrett. You’re useless to them, and you’re useless to everyone else without them.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you can tell you’ve struck a nerve. As much as Garrett pretends to be infallible and nonplussed, he is still a human and he has insecurities of his own, and you’d bet every chunk of change you’ve ever earned that you just managed to find his.

When he speaks again, his voice is low and dangerous. The blazing inferno of your anger dwindles down to a flickering candle flame in the face of his own rage, like you’ve been doused with a bucket of frigid water.

“And you’re useless to me━” he says, “━if you don’t find a way to fix this mess you’ve created. So either you do what you’re told, or I’ll follow through on what I promised and make you so miserable that you’ll never feel even a fragment of happiness ever again. Have I made myself clear?”

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

He laughs. “It’s nothing personal, love. I’ll be in touch. Cheers.”

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yourusername i was made aware today of a set of photos going around featuring me and my coworker in a situation that could be mistaken as compromising. i’m coming here to tell you that me and garrett are still very much together and still very happy to be with one another. lando is a long time friend of mine and i was congratulating him on a well deserved victory. a kiss on the cheek is not implicit of romantic interest, and i will not be made to feel ashamed for supporting my friend in a way that is unique to us. we, like all friends, have quirks to our relationship, and those quirks are no one’s business but our own. lando is very dear to me, but i can have male friends and still be very much in love with my boyfriend. as proof, here are pictures of the day me and garrett spent in london on a date after i got back from melbourne.

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user i was actually kind of excited at the idea of her being with lando… 🫤

↳ user IKR??? idk, her relationship with garrett has always seemed to surface level. her and lando have YEARS of friendship under their belt and i gen thought they were already dating when i got into f1

↳ user so glad i’m not the only one who thought this!! seeing the pictures of her with ward actually shocked me bc i thought her and norris were in a not-so-secret secret relationship already

user THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU Y/N 🙌🙌🙌

user if my bf kissed another girl on the cheek and hugged her like that, congratulations or not, i’d be livid.

↳ user just say you’re insecure and move on. not everyone is out to cheat on their partner, but it says a lot about you that your first instinct when you see two friends sharing a moment is that you automatically assume they’re romantically involved 🙄

user ok but those pictures look pretty damning…..

↳ user i ain’t never seen “friends” hold one another like that is all i’m saying 👀👀

↳ user friends can be intimate without the intimacy being romantic, but in this singular case i do think there was mayhaps a bit more going on than just friendly congratulations

user ooooooh I know Lando has got to be fuming rn 😂

user seeing this comments makes me so afraid for the future generation. since when did we condone cheating?

↳ user are you actually fucking blind?? 🤨🤨 you’re commenting this on a post where she is literally telling us she didn’t cheat and that her and lando are just friends. it’s literally a he-said-she-said situation between the paparazzi and her and lando, and quite frankly i’m choosing to believe the people actually involved because the paparazzi are notorious for capturing things without context and painting situations in a certain light purely to drum up drama and excitement.

↳ user yeah but if someone’s cheating and they get caught they aren’t gonna admit to cheating? especially if they can just use the excuse that they’re friends with the person they’re having an affair with?

↳ user i think it’s super telling how the media views women if the first impression is to assume a woman with a male friend is cheating on her partner. god forbid women have friends that aren’t exclusively female 🙄😮‍💨

user GARRETT GET OUT OF HERE LET US Y/NLANDO GIRLIES HAVE OUR MOMENT OF TRUTH 😭😭😭

user i know my girl y/n wasn’t a cheater

user is it morally wrong to hope that y/n really is cheating on garrett? I’ve always gotten a bad vibe from him from the beginning, especially when he did nothing to defend her when his crazy fans were bashing her in the comments and literally sending her death threats. I’m not saying cheating is okay, but i don’t think i would blame her in a situation like this, especially when lando is her best friend and has been since like 2019

↳ user i don’t think it’s morally wrong persay… i don’t think i would blame her either for cheating in this situation, but i also don’t want her to be associated with the type of stigma that comes from being exposed to the public as a cheater. especially since her career is as public as it is and relies so much on having an online presence

↳ user honestly i just hate garrett ward and i’ve wanted her and lando together since 2021 🤷‍♀️

user why does the caption to this post seem so scripted…?

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 594,950 others

landonorris can’t tag who took these pictures for me cuz we might get accused of cheating 🤷‍♂️

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oscarpiastri do you think people suspect we’re also having an affair? 🤔

↳ landonorris they can never stop our love, oscar! 😩

user MR NORRIS DID NOT COME TO PLAY 🫢🫢

user i love you lando pls never change

user i just know bro was FUMING when he saw y/n’s post denying the rumours

↳ user mans has been trying to shoot his shot with a babe like her since 2019 💀 if i were him i would be too

user okay so do we think there’s actually smth there or are they really just friends?

↳ user my two cents is that they’re together and garrett knows but doesn’t care and just doesn’t care so long as the public doesn’t find out about it

↳ user what??? no wtf why would any guy, but especially a guy like garrett ward, let his girlfriend be with another man???

↳ user because garrett ward is an infamous cheater and he probably is seeing other women too? because garrett would be a hypocrite to condemn his gf if she cheats when he’s cheated on several women in the past and not even faced any consequences?

user god what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when all this drama is happening

↳ user I have never wanted to be in the room where it happens more than this moment right now

user 🧡🧡🧡 LANDO PODIUM LET’S GOOOOOOO!!! 🧡🧡🧡

user bro got the trophy and (almost) got the girl

↳ user he’ll have his first win AND the girl by the end of the season, i’m calling it

user so disgusting to see you condone cheating. what happened to bro code??

↳ user be so fucking frrrrrr omg. he’s not condoning cheating, he’s making fun of ppl who think he’s having an affair with someone who has a boyfriend just bc they’re friends, bc for some reason society forbids boy-girl friend duos. grow up. “bro code” is so middle school.

user bro wants us to know it was real so bad but he knows he’d get in trouble if he out right told us

user lando is either telling us we’re all dumb for thinking they’re together, or they’re actually together and we’re all dumb for not knowing

↳ user he’s a paradox and his only purpose in life is to make things chaotically confusing for the rest of us 🤦

user the filters on these photos just SCREAM y/n...

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: please disregard any typos or mistakes! i wrote this in bits and fragments and wanted to get it posted as soon as i could, so i only briefly scanned through it after i finished. but i hope you enjoy it! i am genuinely so sorry it took me so long to finally get this out here, my job has been a bit hectic and it's a lot more physically demanding than i had initially thought, so i'm pretty wiped out by the time i get home and i usually just veg out and rot on tiktok or something until i feel like i can turn my brain back on again. but here's to hoping i can get back into the swing of things here soon as i get more used to my schedule!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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ninzied · 1 day

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pieces

they fight. brownstone era. for @dreamsinthewitchouse. ~1k.

It starts out so small that Henry hardly realizes what it’s become until it’s too late. He doesn’t mean to sigh when Alex gets home and sets his things down at the table, next to the dinner Henry’s spent hours making only to then watch grow cold. But then Alex’s apology—which Henry is certain he means but rather wishes hadn’t been needed to start with—feels just sharp enough that Henry is hurt by it, and the hurt comes out all wrong.

It comes out angry, and maybe a little bit selfish, and Alex is stretched thin as it is, Henry knows this, yet once he’s made it about himself it’s like a disease and he can’t seem to stop it from spreading.

And then he hears Alex say that he can take the couch, and Henry goes so still it’s as if Alex just dealt him a physical blow. They’re fighting, he realizes. It’s one dinner, which Alex hadn’t even known he was missing, and now it’s come to them sleeping apart because Henry’s little feelings got wounded?

“No,” says Henry. “Absolutely not.”

Alex rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Are we really going to fight about this, too?”

“No,” says Henry hotly, “because this part is not up for discussion. You’re the one with exams tomorrow, so I’ll be taking the couch tonight, thanks.”

“Hen,” Alex starts, but Henry walks past him into the kitchen. He’s hanging on by a death grip to his very last shred of dignity when all he wants to do is let go.

His cloudy mood dissipates halfway through doing the dishes. Still, it takes with it more than just anger, draining him totally, leaving him not so much clear-headed as feeling like he’s all hollowed out.

Henry knows he’ll get no sleep tonight.

It’s not the couch itself, of course; it’s that even after all this time, sleep still doesn’t come easily without Alex there beside him. It’s David worrying at Henry’s feet, making distressed little snuffling sounds. It’s that no matter how small the fight, or how infrequently they do it, each time it never fails to awaken in Henry all the old fears that Alex will leave him. That Alex will finally decide he’s had enough of—well, all of this. All of Henry.

He tries not to think it too often. It’s not fair to Alex, and to the beautiful life that they’ve built together, but when 3AM comes and the semi-delirium of no sleep sets in, those fears are harder to write off as not real.

He wants nothing more than to go to Alex. To hold him and tell him how sorry he is, that he’s asked for more than he has any right to. That loving someone like Henry is neither simple nor easy, he knows, and he wants to be better, he will be better, for Alex. But that would be letting his fears speak for him, saying he’s less than, that the broken things in him are simply not meant to be loved.

Henry can do better than that. Alex would never stand for such talk, and perhaps more importantly, Henry will not stand for it either.

He tosses and turns, and lets the fears have their moment, looming large there in the dark. And then he gathers a blanket around his shoulders and heads up the stairs.

The light is still on in their bedroom. Henry can hear the flip of a page, the faint scratch of a pen from behind the door. He closes his eyes and pictures Alex at their desk, a hand through his hair, his forehead creased in concentration. Henry’s soothed by the routine of it, the familiar touches of a life with a person he knows so well and loves more than it should be possible to love another person but isn’t.

And he owes it to Alex, to let Alex love him back the same way.

Henry tucks himself in right there in the hallway, content just to know that Alex is there, and to not demand anything more of him than that. The fears retreat to their shadows once more, back to a smaller haunting—always there, a part of Henry, but a part that he knows Alex loves, just as fiercely as the rest of him, always.

He’s not certain how long he’s dozed for, but the next thing he knows is the feel of Alex’s lips on his brow. The soft way he murmurs, “Baby. Scoot over. David, you too. How long have you been here? Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Mm.” Henry cracks a bleary eye open as Alex drapes something heavy around them. His arms encircle Henry next, and it’s hard to think of a reason to move now that it feels like they’re both where they should be. David noses his way beneath the covers, shifting down to curl at their feet. “Love, are these our bed linens?”

“Yeah,” says Alex, nuzzling into Henry’s neck. That one simple touch is enough to make Henry’s entire chest ache with relief. “Was going to sneak onto the couch next to you. This works too though. Fuck, I missed you.”

“We shouldn’t stay on the floor,” Henry tells him, burrowing closer, breathing him in. His words are half-muffled against Alex’s chest. “You need rest, in an actual bed. You’ve worked hard and you deserve the world to show for it.”

“Don’t need any of that,” says Alex. “Just you. I will fight you on that part,” he adds when Henry opens his mouth. “I’m so pissed at myself that you thought for even a second any of those things could matter to me more than this.”

“No, I’ve been selfish,” frowns Henry. “I’ve been too focused on what I want, and what makes me happy, and—”

“Good,” says Alex. “It’s about fucking time.”

And then he leans in and kisses Henry like it’s everything Alex wants too, Henry defending himself, Henry fighting for what he wants and deserves. Henry, knowing he’s loved, and loved, for all that he is and never for a single thing less than that.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #rwrb fic #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fanfic #iuserzoe #chrissiewatts #userveronika #usersteen #usergayppl #usernuria #sheisraging #usergf #kay i owe you another version of this prompt because this did not go the direction i'd planned 🙈

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insomnya777 · 11 hours

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boat boys coded

#....does this make sense #it does in my head #lovers lane. dead end.#aka double life #they know it won't lead anywhere #in the long run it will only end in pain #whether it ends in a screaming match or just one too many empty promises — it doesn't matter. it still ends either way #and that's the part that really counts #but they don't do anything about it because what is there to do? your only option is to live the story #even if you know how it ends #so they go along with it #what other choice do they have?#they fall in love and they kiss and they kill and they do it all together. they follow lovers lane all the way until the end of the road #until they can't deny it anymore #their time is up #double life is over #they're running on borrowed time - delaying the inevitable #it's a dead end #and it was always going to be #and somewhere in between they may have convinced themselves that it might be different #(it's not)#(it never is)#IS THIS ANYTHING GUYS...#maybe i'm just insane #nya talks #hermitblr #trafficblr #joel smallishbeans #boat boys #smalletho

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hawkinsbnbg · 2 days

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Steve got Good boy inscribed on his butt, just on the right cheek.

It would be funny if it was a tattoo Steve had gotten one time when he was too drunk and on a dare.

Except it wasn't a tattoo. At all.

Even though it kind of looked like one.

It was the first words his soulmate would say to him.

When Steve first got it, his friends had given him odd looks in the locker room.

Tommy would use many excuses to touch and even Billy wouldn't shut up about it.

As for Carol, she just cackled her head off when he showed it to her.

Still, whenever Steve was alone, he would look at the words in the mirror and feel kinda giddy about the whole thing.

Who would call someone they had just met "good boy"? What if they were far older than him?

And what would his words be for them? "Yes sir"? "Hello sir"?

Soon, he found his answer when he learned about the BDSM world, which Robin had jokingly mentioned one time.

And Steve sort of fell down the rabbit hole since then.

He met many men and women who would call him "good boy", and occasionally "good girl".

But none of them felt right.

Until he heard about Kas.

Who was known to be an experienced dom and knew how to treat his subs right.

Most of the subs in Steve's circle put the man on a pedestal. They practically worshipped the ground he walked on.

And Steve had become curious enough to seek him out.

A quick text over the phone and Steve already had a date with Kas at a hotel on Friday night.

Once the day arrived, he dolled himself up a little, knowing many doms liked how rosy cheeks and pouty lips he was.

He even wore lipgloss and mascara just for good luck.

His outfit was simple enough to take off, but cute nonetheless.

A yellow and pink graffitied black sweater that was a little baggy on him, a tiny pearl choker, silver bracelets, a pair of jeans shorts, and baby pink sneakers.

He looked like a twink, all things considered.

It wasn't his first time dressing like this and it wouldn't be the last time, either.

Steve just..

Well, he just wanted to make sure if he stumbled on his soulmate who happened to be a dom, he wouldn't disappoint them too badly.

It had been years since his word first appeared. So he had the right to be a little bit desperate.

Steve didn't know why, but by the time he got to the hotel, he was a puddle of nerves.

He figured that maybe it was the "Kas' effect" that many people had told him about.

When the door opened to let Kas into the room, Steve just knew this man was going to rock his world.

Kas was attractive and tall. Easily having a couple of inches on him.

With long curly hair, big brown eyes, and plump lips, the man looked surprisingly intimidating.

He wore a burgundy shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing his tattoos and chunky silver rings.

His pants and heavy boots were made of leather, which Steve suddenly wanted to rub himself on.

He seemed to be a lanky type, but Steve knew better than to assume anything.

As Kas languidly made his way to the bed, Steve unconsciously slid down to the floor and got on his knees, waiting for his order.

Yeah, he was a good boy like that.

There was a reason why many doms had asked to keep him despite knowing he only let his soulmate own him.

Kas wasn't any different.

The man smiled at him, dimpled and warm, making Steve woozy a bit at being praised even wordlessly.

Once Kas sat down, he spread his thighs slightly and patted a hand on his lap.

Understanding the silent command immediately, Steve climbed up on it without being told twice.

He blushed and giggled a bit when strong arms wrapped around his waist securely.

"Good boy," said Kas huskily, smelling of cigarettes and something spicy. "What do you want for your reward, sweetheart?"

Steve felt his breath hitched at that. He knew the chance wasn't high but–

"Can I kiss you, sir?" He asked coyly, playing his role to perfection.

This time, it was Kas who took a sharp intake.

Surprise, disbelief, uncertainty, hope, and finally, joy settled on the man's handsome features.

Kas smiled at him again, more genuine and hopeful.

"Baby boy, do you know that I have those words written on my left ribs my entire life?"

"Show me," Steve demanded, unable to keep up the act when he was so close to finding his soulmate.

Without protest, Kas unbuttoned his shirt and there it was, scribbled on the man's pale skin was Can I kiss you, sir? in his handwriting.

Smiling fondly, Steve traced his fingers on those words.

They sounded so sweet. And yet concerning if being put into the wrong context.

What a pair they made.

"Can you show me yours, sweetheart?" Kas asked tentatively, looking unsure despite having been so confident just a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, sure, of course," Steve scrambled up from the man's lap and blushed as he turned around to unzip and pull down his shorts.

Hearing Kas curse quietly behind him was, perhaps, the most flattering moment in his life.

He could see what kind of an image he made with his baggy sweater bunching up around his waist, white thong, and Good boy being inked on his tanned buttcheek.

Some would call it hot, sexy, or erotic.

But Steve knew how obscene he looked with those words on him.

Especially when he was face down and ass up, waiting to be fucked into oblivion.

Not that he had let anyone fuck him, yet. But he wouldn't mind if Kas did it tonight.

Steve shuddered slightly as calloused fingers brushed on his cool skin, and let out a moan when hot lips placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

Then without pausing, strong hands grabbed his hips before sharp teeth sank into his flesh, eliciting a yelp from him.

It wasn't painful. It just made Steve want to ask for more. So he turned around to do exactly that.

"Kas–"

"Call me Eddie," the man tugged him back into his lap.

"Eddie," he breathed out as he straddled the man's thighs.

"Yes, my sunshine?" Eddie smiled adoringly at him.

"Can I kiss you now?" Steve braced his hands on the broad shoulders with a raised eyebrow.

Tightening the arms around his waist, Eddie pecked him on his chin, sweet and loving.

"How about I let you kiss me for the rest of our lives, my pretty angel?"

"And I'll be yours for as long as we live?" Steve murmured against those plump lips.

"Yeah, gonna treat you right, my good boy," Eddie chuckled before drawing him into a fervent kiss.

Steve was so going to thank that Chrissy girl who had sold him her mascara and lipgloss later.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soulmates steddie #sub steve harrington #dom eddie munson #meet sexy #sionewrites

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puppetmaster13u · 1 day

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The Au is Ra has been using the Lazarus pits for so long that causes him to see Danny like a human or his normal Phantom form Ra the only one that sees Danny like that

I love the idea of Deadly Decision getting together but Ra has no idea that Danny is no human he just thinks that Danny has his own Lazarus pit hidden somewhere away from him

Like Danny is full blown glowing white hair, green eyes, Sharp Fangs, an electrical being

Ra point at tall being of Life And Death it looks like he's about to rip you apart: This Is My Wife Danny.

Like sometimes people just ask him if he sees anything unhumanly about Danny and

Ra is like: What Are You Talking About ?

Danny's in the background forming Stars into his hand I'm trying to make himself a new sword

Talia and Dusan we're raised by Danny and Ra they just gotten used to also considering getting to be a normal human they find it hilarious to play along with their other two siblings Dan and Danielle that Mom is human

Slade: I've been meaning to ask what about that monster Ra has locked up back there

Talia: You Mean Mother

Slade: that's your mother I didn't know Ra al Ghul was attracted to on human beings

Dusan: what do you mean unhumanly our mother is perfectly normal he's not even assassin

Danielle walking out of his shadow: Maybe Your Mother Was The Weird One

Dan floating near Talia: Get the hell out how dare you disrespect our Mama

All of them are girlboss, gatekeep, and gaslight people into believe Danny is normal

Damien will give warning that his grandmother does not look like a Human they were all expecting meta not electric being

Danny got so used to Ra al Ghul no his Husban treating him like a normal person when he's like this that he forgot that everyone might not that treat him like that

Honestly? I love this.

And you know what? Danny might need someone like that, who even as his humanity slips away still treats him as human, as not an eldritch creature of Space, of everything Between. Someone who treats him as well, him. Is his and Ras relationship healthy? Well maybe not in human terms, but do either of them count as such anymore?

The idea of the kids playing along is also amazing lol. Especially that Jordan and Ellie? Definitely same hat as Danny. Sure their forms still look sort of human, but that just makes it very uncanny valley. So others and siblings who treat them the same? They need it just as much- if nothing else than to not become so arrogant and uncaring of humanity that they could watch the world end without a blink.

Which, Damian! I bet Danny absolutely adores the grandbaby. I bet he crafts little ice bats and miniature planets to swirl above his crib. I bet he has a literal strip of space and stars on his ceiling. And Damian isn't the only grandbaby too- Dusan has a daughter in some timelines too. Not to mention Ras' adoptive daughter Nyssa, who he gave one of the Lazarus Pits to.

But speaking of Damian, I have to know what that would mean for Jason. Who was practically completely braindead before being thrown into the Pit. Who would have probably met Danny while there because I can't see Danny not also gently doting on another grandson.

Gosh I honestly am just really enjoying this whole thing lol.

#ask answered #deadly decisions #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #Not Ghost King Danny #Let Jason & Damian be Brothers #Give Me Primordial Being of Space Danny #And not just like ooh stars space but like literal Every Space #He knows where everything is even in the Infinite space #Anyway-#Danny definitely gives each of his family members handcrafted meteoric swords #OMG CUJO #Does the whole League just go 'yep that's a normal dog nothing to see here' about him lmao #Damian later with his demon bat-dragon Goliath: Father I don't see what's wrong they are just a puppy #Huh Ras might have a decent relationship with his grandkids in this with how smitten he is

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callsign-mayhem · 3 days

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heartbreak feels so good (part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too.

He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.

And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him.

Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly.

Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.

‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’

It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.

‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’

It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious.

Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.

You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification.

‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow.

You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly.

‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’

Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’

This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then.

He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away.

‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted. ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’ ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.

Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.

Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac.

Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone.

‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’ ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start. Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’

Being this transparent was embarrassing.

‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’

You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.

‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.

‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’

Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs.

As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection.

While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over.

‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’

Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.

‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’

The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that.

‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’

You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage.

‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’ ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’

Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either.

Bradley needed another drink.

In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you.

‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.

His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him.

‘What’s up, Y/CS?’

Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next.

‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’

Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed.

‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’

She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence.

A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’ Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’ ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’

An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later.

But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing.

‘Y/N’s phone.’

A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life.

‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’ ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’

Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse.

‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’

Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already.

‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him.

Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.

Not that you’d want to escape.

Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.

That’s when it hit you.

You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed.

‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’

He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.

‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’

A wave of nausea hit you.

‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’

You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.

‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’

You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad.

What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.

The worst part was you saw it coming.

‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’

Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

‘Move.’

He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.

‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’

Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.

You called Elijah.

He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time.

Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you.

It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand.

What a beautiful night to have your heart broken.

There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to

convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way.

You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach.

You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley.

He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it.

‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’

You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders.

‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’

Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you.

‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’

He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.

‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly.

Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point.

‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’

You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.

In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’

Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out.

Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact.

You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love.

Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’

Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.

‘Apparently not.’

You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed.

‘This is news to me too.’

The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night.

‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’

He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it.

The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way.

Which was to say, it was a bad morning.

After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed.

When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now.

To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover.

With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast.

Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door.

Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time.

You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again.

‘Bradley?’

He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.

‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’

He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he

perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all.

‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’

You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee, eyeing

you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly.

‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly. ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’

Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally.

‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’

While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no.

‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’

The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.

‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’

You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy.

‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’

This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed.

You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try.

‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’

You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah.

When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop.

‘Thanks for breakfast.’ You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’

Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you.

But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home.

‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’

Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave.

‘I’d love to.’

It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.

Because he really didn’t want to go home.

He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.

A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.

‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’

The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said.

It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else.

E<3: always knew you were a slut.

You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text.

E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.

The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise.

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’

It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.

Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would.

‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you? ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’

The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions.

‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.

Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts.

‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled

So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.

‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’

You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested.

‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’

You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever.

‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’

From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him.

‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time.

The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it.

Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly. He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’

He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.

‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’

The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.

‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’

Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.

‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired. You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’

The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much.

‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’

Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.

And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart.

‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.

Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek.

‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’

He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything.

By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly.

If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears.

Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly.

For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day.

He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them.

But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.

End of part one.

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purple-babygirl · 2 days

Text

in the far corner of the forest III

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜

“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.

He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.

Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.

“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.

She was ignoring him.

Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.

It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.

She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.

Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.

“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.

When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.

“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.

“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.

“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.

Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.

He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.

So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.

It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.

“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.

“Yes.”

“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.

She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.

No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.

Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.

She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”

She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.

She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.

She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.

“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.

Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.

She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.

But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.

When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.

“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.

He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.

She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.

Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.

It was just like… a date.

Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.

She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.

She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.

“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.

She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.

She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.

Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.

She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.

It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.

“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.

“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.

He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.

In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.

She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”

Gods, the way she said his name was something else.

“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.

As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.

Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?

She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.

She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.

Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.

Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.

Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?

No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.

She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.

So she did.

And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.

She knew just the thing to do actually.

She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.

She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.

She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.

She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.

This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.

“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”

“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.

“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.

It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.

It felt… way better.

“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”

She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”

“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”

A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.

“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.

“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.

“And who’s Sam?”

“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.

At least Sam was a male.

So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.

“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.

“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.

“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.

The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”

She looked up at him with a silent glare.

Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings

“Are you… jealous?”

Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.

Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!

“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.

“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.

She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.

She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.

Who did he think he was?

It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.

He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.

The clan he never introduced her to.

How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?

Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.

She was jealous. She was jealous over him.

He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.

He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.

She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.

When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.

Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.

He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.

A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.

“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.

Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.

It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.

Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!

Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.

The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.

She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.

She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.

Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.

“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.

“She’s not my—”

“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.

She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.

Oh, that was it.

She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.

Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?

She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.

Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!

How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!

She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.

She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.

This marriage ends today.

Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.

After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?

Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.

How could he make her see that?

As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.

“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.

Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.

He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.

Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.

Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.

Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.

He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.

“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”

Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.

“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.

“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.

“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.

“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.

Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.

She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.

“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.

Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.

“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.

“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.

Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.

Not even a real marriage.

Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.

“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.

“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.

Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.

She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.

Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.

Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.

Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.

Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.

How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?

“Hey.”

She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.

“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.

“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”

She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.

Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.

“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.

Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.

“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”

“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.

He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”

She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.

He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.

This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.

“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.

“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.

“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.

So she had read the contracts.

“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.

“You what?!” She became even angrier.

He did this? She was here now because of him?!

“I willingly picked you, little human.”

“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.

Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!

“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”

Won a glimpse

Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you

No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?

“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”

She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.

She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.

No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.

“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”

She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.

“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”

“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.

“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”

Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.

But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.

When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.

Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.

She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.

When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.

“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.

She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.

She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.

Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.

“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.

“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.

She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.

How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?

“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.

Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”

She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.

“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.

She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”

“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.

“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.

“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.

It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.

“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.

“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.

She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?

She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.

In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.

“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.

“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.

“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”

Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.

He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.

“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.

She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.

“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.

They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?

“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.

Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.

“Don’t be upset, little human.”

She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.

Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”

“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.

“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.

He smiled wider because she could.

Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.

For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.

Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.

But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.

“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.

As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.

She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.

She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”

Yeah, they were going to be okay.

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