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#and i hate myself for getting so angry on such tiny things
norrisleclercf1 · 1 month
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i heard someone was in need of poly requests and i was summoned. anyway, this idea has been stuck in my head for days so i'll gift it to u😘
basically its pre-established polyship with lestappen and each of u are CONVINCED that the other two are dating (angst and pining ensues) sisksnsiekmwhswej but do with this what u will
oki bye bye love u nat🫶🫶
A/N: I don't normally write misunderstood trope, but honestly I'm loving this but I'm going to take a little spin on Max and Reader dating and flirt and tease Charles all the time, couple times you teased, and the one time he took you up on your offer
"You have a very small waist," Max comments one day, Charles jumping out of his skin, Max's voice brushing his ear, which has Charles stumbling forward and blushing. "I'm sorry what?" Max smirks, leaning over the railing as you giggle from your seat.
"You're waist, it's so small and perfect, really tiny when my hands are on it." Max lips turn upwards and Charles forgets how to breath as he'd get strike down with lighting with the image that just popped into his head. "Oh, I um....oh," Is all Charles can say in return which has you giggling. He can't help but let his eyes trail down noticing the small red between your legs and his eyes immediately snap back up to yours.
"I have to go!" He blurts and rushes off leaving you and Max, as you two watch him like he was prey.
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"Charles?" Your voice floats to him with so much ease he hates that you could whisper in a club and still know where you are. "Yes, chaton?" He quickly turns to you, forgetting his drink at the bar as you two stood in some fancy party. "Max left, I was wondering, would you be okay with driving me home?" You ask, fingers trailing up his arm which has him shivering.
"Why did Max leave?" He blurts, mind rushing so fast as he tries not to go weak in the knees from your perfume. "I don't know," You shrug your shoulders and lean into Charles, your breasts being pushed against him, he has to look away quickly to stop himself from getting hard. "Look, can you give me a ride home or not? Because he has to fly out soon, and I can't get out of this dress myself." Charles groans in the back of his throat and bites his bottom lip.
"Oh saint doux putain." He groans as he feels your hips push more into his. "Fuck, sorry I can't." He moves and bolts away, choosing to ignore the way Max was standing at the exit and watched as Charles ran.
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"Cold!" Charles yells, as Max screams and sprays the champagne all of Charles. This was the only time Max wasn't angry about being second, seeing Charles squirm and be sprayed with champagne was a glorious thing. "Oh fuck off, you love being sprayed in the face, don't you?" Max whispers in Charles's ear which has the Monegasque groaning, picturing himself on his knees and between Max's legs.
"You're right, I do. But only for you," Charles whispers, which has Max stumbling as they take the picture and Charles chuckles and gives a pat to Max on his ass. "See you later, nice race." Charles winks and walks off leaving Max reeling and a very noticeable bulge in his race suits.
The fans go wild.
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He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't hold himself together anymore and he was going crazy. You "accidentally" sent him a picture of you riding Max and he knew exactly where you two were.
Storming up to the hotel room door he knocks loudly, breathing hard, only in his boxers and t-shirt as he was woken from sleep. "Charles?" You're shocked to see him there, but he doesn't care and tugs you into his arms and kisses you hard. A clash of teeth, tongue, and moaning.
Shoving you into the room he kicks the door and picks you up dropping you on the bed. Max smirking as Charles tugs off his shirt, glaring at the two of you. "This is what's going to happen, I'm going to fuck you hard and deep that just looking at me your pussy can still feel me inside you. And you," Charles glares which has Max smirking, all in his naked glory.
"You're going to let my suck your cock and then fuck me because I can't handle this. And then in the morning I'm taking you both to breakfast and then we're done with this little dance, deal?" He asks and you whimper seeing him this way.
"Deal," You both say.
You got a really big noise complaint about your room.
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cassandraclare · 2 months
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*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.
First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.
TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.
I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.
I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)
I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.
I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.
I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.
(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)
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molsno · 1 month
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do you know how it feels to be thrown away? to be made aware that dozens, hundreds of people hate you and want you dead?
that's the daily reality of trans women, and it's inescapable.
everyone keeps asking us why we're so angry, why we overreact to everything. how would you feel if day after day after day, everyone around you reacted to everything you say with utter malice, told you you were dangerous, demanded everyone stay away from you, twisted your words to make you look like the worst person who's ever lived? would you be content with that? you really wouldn't get angry? that wouldn't put you on edge? I find that hard to believe.
it's actually normal to make mistakes, or so I've heard. people say that if you say something insensitive, or you talk too much, or your voice is too loud, or you accidentally hurt someone, it's not the end of the world. people might roll their eyes, or there might be an uncomfortable silence, or the person you hurt might not talk to you for a while, but they'll move on, or forget about it, or ask you to apologize. you can be forgiven.
is that really true? I've always been made aware that if I slip up even once, make one tiny mistake, I'll be treated like I'm the scum of the earth. I'll be viciously ostracized at the drop of a hat without warning for one little faux-pas. for some reason, if I'm not perfect, people tell me to kill myself. sometimes I wonder if they have a point.
what is it like to be taken in good faith, I wonder? I wouldn't know. I always want to assume other people have good intentions, so I often take people in good faith, even when they disagree with me, or they have a problem with what I said. even if they're being hostile to me, even if they're ineloquent, even if they willfully misunderstand what I'm saying, I try to see things from their perspective and forge a human connection with them. after all, how are we supposed to build a better world together if we can't look past each other's shortcomings and try to come to a mutual conclusion, person-to-person? whenever I try to do this with someone, I almost always become painfully aware that they don't see me as a person.
does it surprise you that most of us are walking bundles of nerves, fueled by trauma inflicted by people who regularly try to kill us? are we supposed to be calm and rational when someone hates us and decides to make it our problem?
would you be?
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stxrvel · 8 months
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hate is a strong word
summary: you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
words: 6k
warnings: some bad words, a lot of arguments, a HUGE flashback, a little bit of angst i think? bucky and reader insult each other, reader doesn't like to listen, bucky is easily angered, bucky likes to destroy things when he gets angry but regrets it easily, this is not exactly a healthy relationship(? descriptions of weapons, missiles and buildings being bombed, reader is also very stubborn and likes to put her life at risk… or so.
note: hi guys!! so i came back and i am kinda proud of this one. i think i haven't felt that way in a long time. i gave myself the time to write when i felt like it and it was wonderful, so this came out. also i put the poll for a whole week and i can't change it now >:(, but i think this onsehot fits the angst with a happy ending (im not sure if this fits the angst tho, you gotta tell me) but im gonna try to do something else that fits the vibe, and i'll probably do some other poll to write about someone else. (also i think i should warn you guys that i dont think im that good writing action scenes or tension scenes, so if that's bad i hope you forgive me): anyway, hope you guys like this one!! i love reading your comments so if you want and can, please leave some <33 love you all and see you next time!
part 2
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Bucky was really pissing you off too much at that moment. Or maybe you were feeling a little uncomfortable.
He hadn't spoken a single word to you since you had arrived at that tiny house, only shrugged silently and then exploded. You had seen Bucky explode several times before and you admitted that watching him was somewhat entertaining; seeing the faces of frightened people, trying to flee away from his angry face and destructive hands, but physically forced to stand by and listen to his scolding. You used to have fun with that. However, at the time, when you were the extreme recipient of that anger, it wasn't so much fun.
You had already heard a couple of broken glass, shattered wood and metal containers fall to the ground. Maybe five minutes or so had passed and he was barely pausing to look at his artwork. It wasn't too much that he had taken and thrown while you had stayed in the room, but it had all sounded very loud, so you had no choice but to go out and see what he was doing.
You were leaning against the threshold of the hallway to the bedrooms, right across from the living room and kitchen. Bucky looked like he had just finished getting all his anger out when he finally stood silently. He probably thought you were asleep while he was doing all that, as if that sound couldn't wake you up. Was he really that angry about what you had done? You mean, yes, it was very risky, but there you were alive, weren't you?
You felt the best thing you could do was to stay quiet and wait for him to say or do something, because you could risk that angry outburst really coming down in your face. For that moment he had only taken it out on the house, which had nothing to do with your problems, and you didn't want the arguments to start filling the silence that followed his stillness.
But, well, you didn't always do the right thing. That's why you were in that situation in the first place.
“Are you done yet?” you signed your sentence.
Bucky had a tense posture, squared shoulders moving in rhythm with his accelerated breathing. His back was to you, staring at the kitchen counter that had been left completely empty. You knew by the way he was clasping his hands that he was trying to maintain his composure.
“Are you serious?” his voice came out hoarse, a sign of his growing anger.
Maybe you should have stopped there, or when he continued to not turn to look at you, but you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.
“What's your problem, Barnes? Yes, I took a chance, but it's not that big of a deal. It's not for this,” you pointed to the mess around you, even though he wasn't looking at you.
“It's not a big deal, you say?” Bucky moved and you felt yourself watching his angry figure move in slow motion. “What's your problem?”
His beady eyes met yours. You felt a little intimidated by the ripples of annoyance coming off his body, filling the entire room with an unbearable, suffocating tension. His scowl and that strangely calm tone of voice made your hair stand on end.
None of the pieces of glass or splintered wood on the floor looked as dangerous as that expression on Bucky's face. He looked very angry, yes, but there was also something in his eyes when he looked at you. Something like concern… but that was impossible.
“Really, Y/N, what's your problem? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Now, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I was the mission leader!” his voice rose, his body moving forward as he pointed his index finger at himself. “And you were supposed to follow my orders.”
“I did, Barnes, I-”
“No,” he exclaimed, again moving closer. “You didn't do anything I asked you to do! Why can't you just…? Argh.”
You moved back a little as he planted his hands on the dining room table. You felt a little pressure in your chest at the sight of him like this, as if defeated and hopeless. Disappointed. But that was a common thing. That's why you used to have individual missions, and that's why you didn't really like working in a team. You mean, it wasn't wrong to do it, but everything always ended up in arguments because nobody liked the way you worked, so it was better to do it alone, right?
Seeing Bucky like that reminded you of how many times you had seen that look on the faces of Steve, Natasha, Tony, Clint, even Thor… It was never welcome nor were you comfortable with what was coming next, but it was the way you worked, how could you change out of nowhere something you had done your whole life?
Maybe you just had to apologize, sometimes that worked. Because you also knew that, knowing how bossy and caring Bucky was, you should have at least held back a little during the mission. Bucky's patience couldn't stand that sort of thing.
“Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I was a little careless, but that's how-”
“A little careless?” he interrupted you, his voice and face incredulous. "You almost got yourself killed."
“We're in this job under that risk, Barnes, that's not news.”
The man in the middle of the mess ran his hands over his face, elated, frustrated and surely overwhelmed. He let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl before turning back to look at you.
“Why can't you just listen?”
His accusing gaze enlarged a hole in your chest that you constantly tried to ignore, planting bitter feelings of sadness that you were usually very good at avoiding. But at that moment, for some reason, you couldn't stop your face from twitching at the strong, hurt tone of the man who looked at you as if he couldn't believe who you are and what you do. It seemed like Bucky was always in denial and today he realized that what everyone always told him was true.
That look, that dull gleam in his eye, that expression of understanding… All of that you were used to seeing, but coming from him it felt different. As if you hadn't really meant to cause those feelings, as if you wanted to turn back time to do things differently. The surprisingly incredulous and remorseful look was digging deep into your head, searing itself with hot iron to make sure to haunt you in the future.
At that moment you didn't care if Bucky realized how much his words affected you. Maybe you deserved to feel that way. Maybe he should have known that it affected you too much, that would surely do more than an apology.
“If only you had listened to me, we would have left sooner and without any trouble,” Bucky spoke again after what felt like hours of silence.
You couldn't take him back. It was true.
“Why did you…? Argh. Whatever. I'm going to report to Fury.”
His figure passed you like a blur. You barely felt his presence very superficially before all was silent again.
Your heart ached again. For some reason, it wouldn't stop hurting that it was still beating.
The day before.
“WHAT?” you exclaimed in disbelief and the director's tired look reappeared.
“It's already scheduled, Y/N, I can't undo it. So just go, try to cooperate together and come back in one piece,” Fury leaned back against the back of the chair, putting his feet up on the desk.
You looked at his shoes as if they were to blame for everything.
“It's funnier to think Bucky reacted the same way,” Tony spoke up, sitting in the chair next to yours, a mocking expression on his face.
“Shut up,” you smacked his arm before turning back to the director. “Sir, you know Barnes and I don't get along and knowing that, what makes you think we'll hit it off on a mission?”
Fury shrugged. “A hunch.”
“A hunch…?” you repeated in a low tone, twice as incredulous that the big SHIELD director had just said that.
“That's it, agent, you're dismissed.”
You left his office on your own, not because you had been dispatched. The walk to the housing complex took you longer than ever at that point.
You'd only had one mission with Bucky Barnes once a couple of years ago and it had been a disaster. Your group missions usually ended with a close call, but that time with Bucky it was like going to hell and back.
You two had never gotten along. Regardless of Fury's hundreds of attempts to get along, you had never managed to vibrate on the same frequency. It seemed more like you repelled each other every time you were together, and it was totally justified because Bucky was too bossy and wouldn't let you breathe for a single second. Every second of the mission had to be ruled by him because otherwise he was going to explode into a sea of rage and, God, no one wanted to piss Bucky off in that Complex. However, you were always the first to tell him that his tactics weren't working or that he was too slow and well, naturally, you ended up arguing.
You met Natasha and Steve halfway to the rooms and from the way they both looked at each other before the redhead approached you knew you must surely have a scrunched up face.
“Did something happen?” Natasha asked as soon as she reached your side and started walking at the same pace as you, slightly more hurried than usual.
“Fury assigned me a mission with Barnes,” you spat out the good news, impossibly frowning harder at the mention of that name.
“Oh,” Natasha nodded. “Well, you could try to work things out-”
“What things, Natasha?” you paused, turning to look at her as everything around you turned red. “There's nothing to fix here, because Barnes is a stubborn, obstinate, childish, bossy, stupid man who is incapable of speaking like a civilized adult and only knows how to shout orders everywhere as if he's the bossy one in the Complex. I can't stand him!”
“Wow.”
You heard his voice.
“I hope you know the feeling is reciprocated.”
You turned to see him, his body was leaning against the island at the entrance to the kitchen, in a strategic spot as if you could never realize he was there because your path was to the other side. Natasha watched between the two of you like a tennis match, fearful as if at any moment the screaming would start and she would have to run away.
You didn't know what to do. You were super angry, yes, and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins, too. And you'd said all that stuff to Bucky's face before, and God knows how many times before you'd argued just by seeing each other in the halls of the Complex. Despite that, you felt trapped. The anger was still there, yes, but his gaze pierced through you like a sword.
“Believe me, I don't want to go on this mission with a stubborn, obstinate, headstrong, ignorant, individualist like you either, who cares not for the safety of the team but for her own victory, no matter how she achieves it.”
With his eyes sharp, his heavy footsteps approached you, echoing in your head loudly like the second hand of a clock. He had stopped at a safe distance as he spoke and at one point Natasha had grabbed your arm when it seemed you had tried to approach him as well.
“You're a hypocrite,” you spat at him.
“Ha! Me?”
“You always play the saintly dove, but you know you're not much different from me.”
“I'm nothing like you,” Bucky wrinkled his face, as if the very thought caused him to shiver with disgust.
“You're an individualist, too, imposing your plans on others.”
“You never have a plan! What do you expect me to do, let you go and die?”
“I do have plans! But you don't like them because they are more effective than yours.”
“They're more effective at the cost of risking more of our lives.”
“That's what our job is all about!”
“Our job is about protecting! How are you going to accomplish a mission if you're dead?”
“Well, I've done pretty well so far, in case you haven't noticed.”
“If I had a nickel for every time you've gone airhead straight into danger and ended up nowhere near dead, I'd have as much money as Stark.”
“And if I had a nickel for every time your stupid, slow plans have caused you to lose sight of the target and made you come back empty-handed, I'd be twice as rich as Stark.”
“At least my kill rate is minus five.”
“And my hit rate is one hundred by the way.”
“Are you even listening to what you're saying?”
“That I always finish missions on the first try, unlike you?”
“That you're treating your life like it's something insignificant.”
“Ah, now you care about my life?”
Natasha tightened her hand around your forearm again preventing you from again getting too close to the man who was getting on your nerves. Before he could respond, you spoke again:
“Look, Barnes, to make it absolutely clear to you for the rest of your long life: I love my life and I love my job. I love my life because it allows me to have this job and I love my job because it allows me to have this life. If you have a problem with how I choose to do the job, that's just that, your problem. But don't think you're coming here to give me a psychology lesson to make me believe that I don't value my life just because now you've run out of arguments. It's because I value my life, Barnes, that I always come out of every mission unscathed. I don't put myself at risk because I'm oblivious. I always have everything figured out and that's why everything always works out for me.”
Bucky snorted, his body moving away from yours, but despite that expression on his face he didn't respond again. He gave you a sidelong glance before walking back into the kitchen.
Your shoulders felt a little lighter. For a moment you thought he was going to continue arguing.
Natasha next to you sighed, finally letting go of your forearm.
“Why did you hold me so tight?” you frowned at her, rubbing the part of your skin that was slightly red. “Did you really think I was going to fight a super soldier?”
Natasha shrugged under your gaze.
“We've known you to do crazy things.”
“I wouldn't have stood a chance of beating him even if he gave me the upper hand.”
Five hours earlier.
You hadn't seen Bucky for the rest of the day after that discussion, until the next day when you had to get on the Quinjet and didn't even glance at each other.
Steve was in charge of handling the airplane and, apparently, he was also in charge of briefing you on how you were going to proceed on the mission, because Bucky was too busy drilling holes with his gaze somewhere else on the Quinjet away from the two of you.
Neither spoke when you descended nor when you approached the base apparently in a state of abandonment.
Bucky's mission were flat and simple, but as usual he had no backup plan, because all his backup plans were the same: run away. Bucky had a chick's sense of survival, that's why when things went bad was the time when he would scream at you the loudest.
Just like it happened on that mission.
“This place is deadly quiet,” you spoke for the first time, barely earning a sidelong glance from the man next to you.
You had already finished thermo-sensor checking every floor of the building and it was indeed desolate. Still, you felt a strange uncomfortable chill run down your back.
“Well, that's what deserted means,” Bucky commented, his sarcasm sharp.
You rolled your eyes at him, even if he couldn't see you, and kept walking with your gun raised as you approached the checkpoint.
“I mean I can't even hear birds or crickets, doesn't that strike you as odd?”
“Well, we're on the fourth floor, wouldn't it make it stranger if you could hear them at this altitude?”
“Well, you can hear at this height. Tell me, do you hear anything down below?”
Bucky paused. They were a few steps away from reaching the room. His deadly stare caused you nothing but boredom and you would have ignored him completely except that he let out a sigh, dejected. You detailed him minutely as he seemed to focus his hearing on external sounds.
“There's nothing,” he spoke after a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed.
“You see?”
“But that doesn't mean anything. We'd better finish this quickly.”
Ignoring the grimace on your face, Bucky moved to step into the room whose door was wide open. You stared offended at his back and felt the urge to smack his big head with the butt of your gun.
“Here it is,” you heard him exclaim from inside.
Sighing you made your way to where he stood. A large display of old computers anchored to the wall.
“You should do it yourself,” you looked at Bucky with a smirk. “I don't handle equipment this old.”
Bucky only snorted in response and moved with his gun to another side of the room, leaving you in complete silence to do your job.
You moved quietly and sat down in front of the machines. You plugged them into the power source you brought in your suitcase and in a few minutes they began to work.
The mission was simple. There was one of the old HYDRA bases that contained specific information that Fury needed to find. Up to that point, they had searched about seven abandoned bases without any success. So there you were with Bucky, at the eighth base they had identified, digging through old commands and in another language trying to find the information they needed.
Ever since they left the Complex that morning you were convinced you would find nothing. They had already raided several bases and there were still a few more to go. The probability that you would find that information at that time was…
Bingo.
“Got it,” you exclaimed to Bucky.
You heard his hurried footsteps and then felt the warmth of his body next to you.
“Is that it?”
“Just a folder.”
“And why does it load so slowly?”
“It's an old computer, Bucky, it works at its own pace.”
Bucky gave you a sidelong glance. “Wish you understood me like you understand that thing.”
“Aish,” you pouted by way of mockery. “Jealous, Barnes?”
The aforementioned just snorted.
The load was running at forty percent and truth be told, yes, it was too slow. But you could do nothing but wait, there was no way to speed it up.
Bucky paced back and forth behind you and you just watched the green lines move as if that helped at all. But, well, what else could you do?
At one point, as the charge was about to reach eighty percent, you heard interference on your communicators.
“Argh,” you shook your head and raised your hand to move the device a little away until the sound died down. “Steve?”
There was no response.
You turned to look at Bucky, who had the same quizzical expression.
The interference returned and then you heard Steve's voice distorted.
“… of… moment!”
“What the fuck is he saying?”
Bucky remained silent, tapping the device on his ear as if that would fix it.
But you saw it before you heard Steve's voice again.
A clump of people through the window. A freshly loaded cannon.
“Barnes…”
And at that moment, Steve's voice filled them with clarity.
“It's an ambush! Get out of there now!”
The quickness of the impact didn't let you process what was happening. Less than a second after hearing Steve the ground shook beneath your feet. The cracks in the floor started small and then swallowed you apart.
You held onto a beam, barely lucid enough. You propelled yourself upward, swinging your forearms over the patch of ground that was still intact. You heard Bucky's grunts in the distance. He was surely all right.
You heard him call out to you too, but as soon as you could sit down on the ground, the first thing you did was to reach for the pendrive.
Your heart was pounding, so hard it might as well have flown out on its own. Your breathing accelerated, with adrenaline rushing through your body was the only thing you could feel. At that moment you felt capable of anything.
You stood up quickly to look out the window again. The people were gone and the cannon had been destroyed.
It was at that moment that you realized that Steve was still talking on the communicator.
“I'm fine,” you replied, after being able to decipher his words amidst the constant buzzing from the sound of the explosion and the dizziness you felt at the sight of the hole next to you.
“Okay, you're both fine,” the Captain spoke again.
“Y/N, you can get down from there and get to the floor below. I'll catch you.”
At the sound of Bucky's voice, you moved away from the window.
Bucky had landed on the floor below, and yes, from where you were you could jump up and you'd probably have nothing but a cramp.
“How's it going up there?”
“Well, the shields are holding up okay, but I've got poor vision. I think they're regrouping somewhere else.”
You looked around.
Most of the floor had swallowed up the computers, but the main one was still loading the document. You could see the green from where you were. It was at ninety-seven percent.
But it was dangerous to get too close. The pendrive was dangling from the main computer which was about to succumb to the cracked floor.
There was some concrete left in front of the computers that you could walk across, so, without a second thought, you mapped out a mental guidance plan and moved forward.
“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I'm getting the pendrive.”
“What? Are you insane? That side of the floor isn't going to support your weight!”
“Yes it will. I know how to do it.”
You started walking all over the remaining edge of the floor in front of what was left of the computers. Small pieces would break off as you passed causing Bucky to hiss.
“Y/N, you'd better stop and get down right now. There's still a risk of them firing again.”
“I'm gonna get it, Barnes.”
“Y/N! Get down, now!”
Ignoring his command, you held onto the remaining wall in front of you as you continued on your way, almost reaching where the pendrive was, about to fall into the abyss.
Ninety-eight percent.
“Y/N!”
“Fucking hell, Barnes, will you shut the fuck up? Your yelling is breaking my concentration.”
“You want me to just stay quiet while you walk to your certain death?”
“I'm not going to dieee- ahh-”
Your left foot, the one in front, wobbled as a piece of the floor came loose. You clung tightly to the wall as best you could, breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. Panicking at that moment wasn't going to do any good.
“God, I can't believe this,” you heard Bucky's voice, muttering to himself. “Now are you really going to get off?”
His voice sounded reprimanding, but agitated. In the midst of that mess, you wondered for a moment if he was really worried.
“I'm almost there.”
You heard him grunt in the distance.
You kept moving your feet in the direction of the main computer, this time more cautiously and more slowly. The floor all along that edge was too cracked, on the verge of falling. You were surprised it had lasted this long.
At that point, Bucky started talking to Steve, but you kept your full concentration on not falling. Maybe Bucky was right and you really didn't have any regard for your life, but…. No, no. You were very sure of what you were doing. You couldn't give up without trying everything. Maybe for Bucky it was too risky, but that was your life. And you knew you could do it.
Ninety-nine.
You had reached the critical point on the ground.
The voices of the two men were becoming too overwhelming, so you quickly took off your communicator and stuffed it in one of your tactical pants pockets.
“What the fuck did you just do?” Bucky exclaimed, a considerable distance away. He wasn't as far away as you thought.
“Your voices are distracting me!”
Good. You were close. Maybe from there you could reach it… if you stretched a little… a little more… a little- Whoop. Nope. You weren't that close. Another chunk of floor fell and with it everything around you shifted. The concrete was so unstable that it tilted further into the abyss after your not at all incredible maneuver.
You had to get even closer.
You had to use plan c.
But for that, the pendrive had to be one hundred percent charged and you weren't sure you could wait for that. Or well, you weren't sure the floor would hold. You had to be quick.
You heard Bucky behind you, but his words were carried away by the wind. You couldn't focus on him because that would be too distracting.
So, arriving at point x, you executed your plan as quickly as possible.
You ran. Even if the world was falling down, you ran. In the direction of the pendrive. The green number didn't change. You took a deep breath. You felt the sparks fly around you. The sound of the ground cracking was going to haunt you in several dreams.
You picked up the pendrive. You would have a few extra seconds as you leaned over and climbed over the computers to gain momentum.
The bing of the computer filled you with a rush of adrenaline.
One hundred percent.
You jumped. You held your breath for a second. Nerves built up in your throat. You felt like you were going to lose consciousness for a minute. Maybe you heard Bucky in the background, you weren't sure, but knowing him he was probably still scolding you.
In the midst of a deep exhalation…
Your feet hit the ground. You rolled. You moved quickly as you turned to see that the ground was still falling. You got up and ran.
You ran until you collided with a solid body. Bucky was shaking your shoulders.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he exclaimed, his face angry.
You could hear Steve's voice through his communicator because of how close he was.
“Shit.”
He grabbed your arm and you ran again.
Somehow, Bucky managed to get you out of the building as they bombed it again. You had a gunfight the moment you touched the cold snow.
You moved alongside Bucky like a symphony, aiming and firing with your gun until you managed to get away.
When you noticed that you kept going and kept running…
“Where's Steve?”
“If you had your fucking communicator on…”
Bucky grabbed your hand again to keep running.
You quickly reached a shack that looked abandoned and the man next to you wasted no time in letting go of you and running in the direction of what appeared to be a garage. There was a motorcycle.
You reached into your pocket only to realize that the communicator had been destroyed.
And Bucky looked too angry to want to talk.
“Get on.”
He drove all the way into town, but he didn't stop there.
You were on the road for at least about two hours. You had no idea where you were.
Somewhere along that trip, Bucky stopped in front of another abandoned shack and from there he pulled out a car. He set the bike on fire.
You went back on the road, for at least another hour.
Until you reached a small town and Bucky finally stopped in front of a house that didn't look so neglected.
“They destroyed the Quinjet's shields at missile point. Steve had to leave. We'll stay here until I can get through to Fury and we know what to do.”
His voice gave no room for retorts.
Present.
Well, yes, you were a bit reckless during missions, but so what? You got what you needed thanks to your incredible action plans and always came out unscathed. If you didn't do that during missions, how far behind would they be now in their knowledge against the enemy? They would probably be sitting ducks. Bucky didn't see that.
You two didn't talk for much of the afternoon and evening. You had spent it in the living room, trying to avoid the mess he had made to get something to eat and rest. You had perhaps slept for about three hours when you woke up and saw him sitting in one of the dining room chairs. The room looked cleaner than before.
Bucky sighed when he realized you had woken up.
“I'm sorry I yelled at you.”
You frowned. “What?”
“Earlier when we arrived. And for all the mess,” he averted his gaze when you leaned on your forearm to get a better look at him.
“Don't you think it was the least you could do?” quizzical, you sat back on the couch.
“Weren't you the one who said I don't know how to talk like a civilized adult?”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Sometimes.”
“Well, now I want to. That's why I deeply apologize for reacting that way.”
You remained silent, not really knowing how to answer him. On the previous mission you'd had with Bucky, when the whole mess was over and you were quietly in the Quinjet taking it all in, Bucky had only said “you're fucking crazy” to you before exiting the aircraft. There was no scolding, at least not from him, no complaining, no yelling. Just that. And with that you stayed for a week because you never even saw him again.
Despite the number of times you had heard that, you couldn't see it that way. That was your job, that was what you did and you didn't dislike it. You had done it forever, it was basically your way of life and you had always done it excellently. You trained and practiced for situations like that, that's why you were part of SHIELD's risk management team for so long. You used to risk your life like that to save other people and it didn't bother you. Now you were still doing it, also to save people. There was no dark reason behind it. You were contributing to a common good and that was enough.
“I guess I haven't made things bearable for you either,” you admitted with a hint of remorse.
“No, never,” Bucky shook his head in agreement.
“I'm sorry I scared you,” the words slipped from your mouth. You wanted to say something else, but, well, that had to work.
Bucky let out a short laugh. His head jerked in sync, his shoulders loose as if he didn't have a care in the world. For a moment you felt like you were somewhere else; maybe in a living room, some alcoholic beverage in one of your hands as one of your favorite songs played softly in the background, and Bucky. Bucky sitting in front of you, just like that moment.
Wow. What the fuck was that?
“You apologize for my reaction, but not for what you did?” his sly grin was getting on your nerves. You preferred it when he wasn't trying to upset you at the point of smirks. You never thought that was a weapon he could use against you.
Feelings.
Ew.
No, I hate Bucky Barnes. This is unacceptable. Mind, get your shit together.
“Well, I tried to do that earlier and you didn't care. I don't know what you want from me, Barnes,” you turned your head away, nonchalantly playing with your hair to avoid seeing those light eyes again.
“You'd better leave it at that. I couldn't take that knack away from you if I tried for years,” the sigh that accompanied his words reminded you of something you'd thought of when you were in the building. His face still looked calm, but a little upset by the wrinkle between his eyebrows.
“Why do you care so much about that?” you asked him directly now that you had the chance.
You looked at him as he turned his head away, his eyes roaming over your face, confused.
“Are you asking me why I care about your life?”
Puzzled, you shrugged. His look almost made you think that was a weird thing to ask, but was it really? “Yes. Well…. You hate me.”
“What? I don't hate you,” Bucky shook his head, his face more contracted than before as if you'd said he had cat ears on his head. He looked almost offended.
And that was the really strange thing.
You mean, almost as long as you'd known Bucky your relationship had been based on fights and demeaning adjectives to each other. That he would say that made even less sense than you asking him why he cared so much about you. He had to be pulling your leg.
“What? But I hate you because you hate me,” you explained vaguely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. That was one way of putting it; that is to say, Bucky never gave any indication that he didn't hate you. Or well…
“I don't hate you,” Bucky shrugged, his nonchalant expression confusing you that much more. “You're just a little… insufferable sometimes.”
You rolled your eyes. “That's just a synonym for hating.”
“I don't hate you,” he repeated, this time turning to look you in the eye. For a moment you felt like your breath caught in your throat and you were going to choke. “I know we argue and say a lot of things to each other, but… hating is too strong a feeling.”
“Are you really serious?” you shook your head to get the extraneous thoughts out; that wasn't the time to make a discovery, to realize you had lived a lie.
“Yes. And just to make you more sure, I wouldn't mind hanging out with you outside the Complex,” Bucky blurted out, matter-of-factly.
Your head went blank.
“WHAT?”
Several seconds stunned.
Bucky barely cracked a smile at your dumbfounded expression. It sure looked like you'd actually seen cat ears grow on his head. The things he was now saying… they didn't make sense. “You dislike the idea that much?”
“Do you want to not say things so drastically different every moment? You're changing my perception of reality.”
Bucky kept his small smile and you had to swallow hard to ignore the warmth that settled in your chest. It wasn't welcome, not at that moment. The sound of that music in the living room in your head was getting louder, as if your own mind wanted to mock your surprise.
“Well, back to your question,” Bucky moved his hands nonchalantly over his lap and your eyes followed his movement unashamedly, “I don't see why I shouldn't care about your life. We are partners, after all.”
Partners? After all you had been through? Were you partners? Did Bucky believe that?
“Are we?” you didn't try to hide the incredulous tone that accompanied your words, because it already sounded like you'd just stepped through the door into a parallel dimension.
“Sure,” Bucky nodded to emphasize your words and the calm expression on his face became more familiar with each passing second. Could it be that that had always been the reality and you had been deprived of it? “We've known each other for five years.”
“I always thought you hated me…” you mumbled to yourself, looking lost because your head recalling every fight of the last few years, since you met him, every tongue out and every exalted word, but his incredible hearing clearly picked up what you said as if you had murmured it in his ear.
“Surely it was a mistake in communication.”
“Mistake?” you frowned at his reassurance. “You always called me stubborn and childish every chance you got.”
“I thought we were annoying each other. Although, of course,” his face became a little more serious, “there were times when I knew you hated me intensely. You said really hurtful things, what was I supossed to do? That's why I never bothered to talk to you like this. You did hate me.”
“Because I thought you…! Argh.”
Bucky smiled again.
“You're the insufferable one, Barnes.”
You hated the way your head snapped back to that image in the living room, so peaceful and calm, so serene and warm, the moment his barely noticeable smile hit you again. You had barely managed to get those words out of your mouth before you felt yourself running out of breath again.
Were you asthmatic?
And why was your head suddenly filled with platonic thoughts you'd never had before in your life?
What the fuck was happening to you?
“This is the longest civilized conversation we've ever had,” Bucky spoke again, his gaze wandering somewhere in the room.
Yes, that was true. Whenever you talked for this long it was always to argue and say hurtful things to each other. But you were too surprised by everything he had said, because just yesterday he told you that he didn't want to come on this mission with you either and in his eyes you were sure you saw something like what you felt. Something of hatred, when you saw your eyes through his.
Did you just… imagine it all?
Did you think he hated you because you hated him too?
Or maybe you wanted to convince yourself that he hated you. Maybe it was easier to deal with that than with the idea that you…
Oh no.
No, no, no. There's no fucking way that's it.
But then Bucky stood up and with his smug, know-it-all, hateful look, with that sly, evil grin, like he'd always known everything, like he was squirming around enjoying your confused stare, he held out his hand to you and said:
“Shall we fix something to eat?”
Oh, no, you were screwed.
--
a/n: thank u so much for reading!! <3
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minhosimthings · 5 months
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Chocolate Sauce
Synopsis: In which you lick Jake's abs and leave a very angry Jake with hickeys on his stomach
Pairings: Bf!idol!Jake × fem!idol!reader
Warnings: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, fingering, reader licks Jake's abs, oral (f and m), overstimulation, rough sex, mean dom Jake, sub reader, swearing, mention of food, choking, angry sex (meow)
A/N: GUESS WHO DROOLED WHILE WATCHING JAKE DO THE GUILTY CHALLENGE. THIS BITCH RIGHT HERE. So blame Jake not me because bitch had to do that shit on my period. I wanna touch those abs so bad it's actually so bad I hate myself. Anyways, enjoy this shitpost y'all peace.
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Sim Jaeyun never failed to amaze you. Even as your boyfriend of three years, about whom you knew probably everything about, he always was succesful in pissing you off, or worse, riling you up. And sometimes when both of the phenomenons happened at the same time, it was a time of bliss for Jake.
"What the fuck Jayeun?" You threw your head back to look at your boyfriend, on whose thigh you were currently sleeping. He looked handsome as ever, hair all messy and fluffy, with the usual grin imprinted on his face. "What happened baby?" He pouted as you got up from his thigh and sat in front of him. "Please tell me I did not just see you acting like a whore on stage right now on my for you page." Jake turned his head sideways, an adorable thing he did when he was confused, and peeked into your phone. A devilish smirk formed on his face as he saw what was causing your current state of distress. "Oh that?" He mused, leaning back against the bedframe, "Yeah I did the Guilty challenge. Pretty good right? You know, Riki was saying my dancing impro-" "I don't give a fuck about the dancing Sim Jayeun." You cut him off, eyes faltering at the way he was looking at you, "I'm talking about the way you literally just showed your abs to every fucking person in that room."
To say that you were jealous was an understatement. Of course Jake had officially taken a pledge that he would never show his abs to anyone except you. And you remembered that the pledge also included not showing it to engenes.
"Aww." Jake cooed, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning into your chest, "Is my girl jealous?" Resisting the urge to kiss his strawberry lips, you decided to pick up your phone and scroll through your reels, completely ignoring your boyfriend.
"Come on baby-" Jake smirked, leaning closer to your face, "-you know you can't resist me for more than five minutes." His last words were finished in almost a rough whisper, which knocked you off your wind. "I'll forgive you if you do one thing for me." You finally responded, sitting up straight and crossing your arms. "Order away, princess." Jake cocked his head to the left, smirk ever omnipresent on his stupidly handsome face.
"Let me lick your abs."
You didn't know whether it was out of pure shock, or pure embarrassment that Jake choked on air, but he did and accidentally smacked you in the head. "Jake!" You rubbed the back of your head with your hand. "You wanna do what now?" He spoke in a unusually grave voice, looking at you with bedroom eyes.
"Sim Jayeun I think I said it clear enough." You scoffed, "I want to lick your abs. If you don't wanna do it, that's fine I guess." You shrugged your shoulders and leaned back against the bedframe, getting back to your phone. "Alright then." Jake got up swiftly from the bed, and moved out of the room, walking a pace faster than usual. You tried not to think much about it, as you scrolled through the reels again, your fingers distracting you from wherever Jake was, until you heard the sound of your fridge bang close.
"Jake what are you doing?" You quizzed as Jake walked in, a bottle held tightly in his hands. He plummeted down next to you on the bed, and leaned in, giving you a tiny peck on the cheek. "Here." He nudged the bottle into your hand, forcing you to drop your phone into your lap, which he immediately took and hid in the bedside drawer. "Jaeyun!" You reached for your phone, trying to climb over him, "Give me my phone back." "Not until you read the label of that bottle baby."
You rolled your eyes and took the bottle in your eyes, peering to read the lable written in big glittery letters. "Chocolate Sauce?" You sniggered, "What the fuck do you want me to do with it?"
"Well I figured-" Jake popped open the cap of the bottle, "-since it's not pancake season and you don't use it for anything, why don't you lick it off of my abs?"
Your eyes widened at Jake, as he leaned back further, slowly unbuttoning his white shirt. For perhaps the first time in the entire evening, you noticed how truly scrumptious Jake looked in messy hair. "Jak-" "oh come on princess." Jake leaned closer to your ear, "I know you want to do it so bad like the slut you are."
His rough voice made your legs shiver. Jake had unbuttoned his shirt already, giving you a full display of his carved chest and abs. You held out a hand to stroke it, but Jake was quick to grab it with his. "Not until you lick them baby." He let go of your hand, "Are you scared princess?"
You meekly shook your head, and removed your shirt faster than Jake could blink an eyes. He slid a hand behind to your back, fingers searching to unclasp your bra. "Or should we leave it on?" Jake removed his hand from scratching your upper back, "I wanna see those nice tits bounce around in that cute little fabric which isn't hiding shit by the way." He leaned over to kiss your cheek again, "You could have asked for something new you know. Would have loved to buy you something in pink."
You took the open Hershey's bottle in your hand, and took a deep breath before turning it upside down and letting the gooey liquid come out, drizzling over Jake's abs. Jake let out a wince as it touched his skin, probably from the cold temp of the sauce. Anything for his princess though, he thought, enduring the cold grip.
"It doesn't hurt does it?" You spoke, uncertainty grazing your tone, "Maybe I should get-" "shh princess." Jake cooed at you, lifting a hand to stroke your cheek with his thumb, "Just lick them nothing hurts." His strict tone made you falter again, as you licked your lips, leaning over his body as he settled himself in the bed.
You moved towards his abs, taking in how beautiful they looked under the brown sauce. Lowering your tongue to them, you glanced up at Jake. His eyes were closed, and his eyelids were barely moving. As dead as a fish, you thought.
"Ooh princess-" Jake let out a moan, as your tongue touched his abs. You didn't know if it was the fact that the it was probably expired, or the fact that you were licking it off of Jake's belly, but man did the sauce taste good. You really didn't have a taste for sweet things, preferring your coffee bitter and your waffles without honey. But oh god, did sugar taste good when you were licking it off of Jake's belly, your tongue dying to have a taste of his cock.
"Mm-babe-ah fuck." Jake moaned, his voice grasping for more as he traced your hair with his fingers, unconsciously gripping them harder. Your tongue moved swiftly across the board of Jake's tummy, your fingers digging into the sides of his abdomen, desperately searching for more. You could feel the bulge in Jake's pants, rubbing against your belly as you leaned further in, mouth almost begging to have a taste of your favourite poison A thin line of sweat decorated your brow, as you closed your eyes, sinking into Jake's muttered words. "Mine. All mine." He mumbled in between sweet moans. Drunk on the feathery touch of your tongue on his skin, as it moved slowly, licking up all the sticky sweet substance, he didn't even notice that he was pressing your head further and further down. "J-Jake." "Shut up and go suck my cock right now." He commanded, making you whimper as you wiped off the chocolate from your mouth. You had never seen Jake like this before, eyes akin to a wolf filled with desperate hunger.
You quickly unbuttoned Jake's pants, hands fumbling as you did, while he looked on at your figure, all trembling. He loved seeing you like this, like a lamb going off to the slaughter house. It heightened his ego greatly, seeing his princess be so obedient towards him.
You pull his jeans down and mouth at his clothed dick. You began to suck the tip and run your tongue over the slit. You loved the taste of him in your mouth. He was heavy and warm. "Fuck your mouth feels so good." Jake moaned out, his hand resting on the top of your head. You take more into your mouth and you deep throat him. He touched the back of your throat before you looked at him to start fucking your face. He pulls out before slamming back in. He does this a few times as you sputter around him. You weren't expecting him to be so hard to take as he fucked your throat. He moved against your mouth as you sucked him for everything he had. You wanted him to cum in your mouth. He pressed deeper in your throat as you gripped his thighs in hopes of him letting up.
"Fucking hell, you are such a slut." Jake chuckles as he pulls out, to see your mouth coated in his cum. "Just for you." You pant, wiping your mouth with the towel Jake handed you. "Hmm" Jake groaned, moving slightly to make space for you to rest in his arms. "...'m love you princess." He mumbled as you drifted off into sleep.
"L/N Y/N you are in big trouble." Jake's puppy eyes appeared on the screen of your phone, as you picked up the call. "You know usually people greet their partners with a 'hey babe' or a 'i love you till death'." You giggled, moving on with your laundry. Thank god it was the holidays and your members weren't there to annoy you about Jake, you thought as you slammed the washing machine door close and returned to your boyfriend's angry face. "Y/N I swear to God-" Jake sighed, plopping into a chair, "Do you know how much my stylist scolded me today? And do you wanna know the reason why?" Although you already knew what was going to come out of Jake's mouth, you decided to play innocent, wanting to make him more angry. You did always love when he was angry.
"Why baby?" You pouted, widening your eyes and setting your phone down on the table, at a mischievous angle. "You know why princess." Jake's angry tone came through again, "For all the marks you left on my stomach yesterday? They wanted to put me in a crop top today like all the members but instead, because of you, I had to stay in a fucking jacket." "Hmm" you shrugged your shoulders, "sad." You spoke, before cutting the call abruptly. You giggled in response to nobody's joke as you hopped off of the kitchen counter and opened up the fridge to find something to eat, waiting eagerly for Jake to get back home.
Anger was an emotion which was a rarity for Jake. Even when he did get angry, it would usually be playful anger, with Niki or Jay. But somehow you managed to piss him off to his guts, and as he rode in the car, with Sunghoon side eyeing his furrowed face, he thought of all the ways he could punish you as soon as he got home and layed his hands on your body.
"Ah fuck it." You curse as you burn your toast, having left it on the stove for too long. You had wasted a lot of time admiring yourself in front of the mirror, tracing your eyes over the pretty bra you wore, one of Jake's favourites. And now, as you silently waited for your boyfriend to come home, fumbling with the straps of your bra, you wondered what he was going to do to you.
The keyhole clicked twice at the sound of a key being pushed in. You barely had time to get any words out of your mouth as Jake can stomping in, a dark expression clouding his face. There was little time to brace yourself for Jake's next move. You're pressed against the wall before you can protest, although you wouldn’t dare object to this.
“You love when I make you feel good, don’t you baby? Who’s my good girl?” And that’s what did it for you, your eyes rolled back and you tightened around his fingers, but Jake wasn’t taking just that response this evening. He put his fingers in your mouth, and he asked again with raised eyebrows, “What was that? Who’s my good girl?” His fingers lingered down to your throat, applying just enough pressure so that you could still talk. “Yours, only yours” you replied. He nibbled your ear, smirk still prevalent on his face. He whispered in your ear once more,
Jake grips the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, wedging your hips with his own, keeping you steady. A new hardness presses against your core as he juts his hips into you, pure instinct taking over his movements. His cock twitches in his jeans - he needs to watch his cock sink into you, to watch your face contort in bliss when he bottoms out in your pussy. The friction on your swelling clit was rough and warm, with Jake's cock perfectly nestled atop your drenched slit. Each rough push shot pleasure through your core, but it wasn’t enough for your aching cunt.
He moves the two of you to the couch and putting you on your hands and knees before pulling your pants down. He played with your thong before pulling them off too. His tongue goes straight into your little hole which causes you to scream. He tongue fucks you for a little bit before moving up to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth which has you pushing back on his mouth. Jake continues until you are almost there but he stops.
"No-Jake." You whine, jutting out your bottom lip. "You don't get to fucking cum until I say so, got it?" Jake growls, making you whimper and sink into the couch.
He presses his cock to your hole and presses inside. The stretch felt like it would never end. As he pressed in, you felt full already and he was not even half way in. You moan as Jake whispers about you being his whore and that he isn't going to let you go. He keeps fucking up into you with fever and the only thing you could do was to take it. You had no choice with how good he was fucking you.
"Oh, fuck yes," he groaned, totally entranced by the way your pussy warped with his size, swallowing his cock into your soft walls. He bucked his hips on instinct and struck you deeper. You cried softly against your hand, trying to quiet yourself when the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix.
With another set of thrusts you became undone around him, clenching down onto Jake's cock, letting out a high-pitched moan as your orgasm flowed through you. Jake hissed through his teeth at the warm, fluttering sensation, satisfied at your soft moans falling out of your slacked mouth.
"Attagirl, just keep goin'," Jake said sweetly, pulling and pushing your hips in the same rhythm as before. The overstimulation took you over and left you whimpering, sending soft pleas of slow down, it's too much, to your boyfriend.
Your sweet pussy clenched around him and he rubbed your clit as he bounced you up and down on his dick. You got closer and closer before you climaxed. It felt as if you were drowning. You could only scream as Sam doubled his efforts and you orgasmed again. "Jake please-I"
"One more princess, just one more," he says before thrusting harder. He thrusts one last time before spilling into you. His orgasm triggered yours and you squirted a lot onto his lap. He looked down and smiled at his achievement.
"You look so fucking hot right now," He said as he kissed your neck again. "Jake, I don't think I can go another round." "Don't worry sweetheart, I know you can." He said before circling your clit.
You arch your back as his fingers slip inside of you, along side his dick. He pulled out but left his fingers in. He played with the cum inside as he fucked you with his fingers. He wanted you to cum one last time. It didn't take long before you did and almost fainted in his arms.
Jake swooped you up carefully in his arms, and carried you to the bedroom, where he cleaned you up with a towel, before settling in beside you. You crawled upto him, wrapping your arms around his waist, stroking his abs, as you listened to his heartbeat.
"I'm sorry about the hickeys." You mumbled into his chest, too ashamed to show your face. Jake smiled warmly and stroked your hair, a complete contrast to what he was minutes ago. "it's alright." He kissed the top of your forehead, "Let's not pretend like I never gave you hickeys right before your Inkigayo stages." You chuckled weakly to his words, and buried yourself under the blankets, with the taste of chocolate forever lingering in your mouth.
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starrywilliams · 4 months
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baby i’m yours - abby anderson
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and i’ll be yours until the stars fall from the sky. yours until the rivers all run dry. in other words, until i die
fem reader x abby anderson
synopsis: abby anderson hates seeing her girlfriend upset, so decides to show you just how much you mean to her.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: bad writing ??, general non-apocalyptic au, smut w a tiny bit of plot, top abby, oral sex (r receiving), fingering, some pet names, overstimulation, slightly insecure reader, not proof read !!
notes: i was gonna send this into someone’s asks but i thought it easier just to write it myself. so if it’s bad , ummm pretend it isn’t. wanted to add abby fucking r with her strap too but decided against it… so lmk if u want a pt 2 or something !!
it all started at a party. the music was loud and you were just a little tipsy, abby the designated driver as usual. she was talking to one of her friends beside you, rambling on about something you’d lost track of a long time ago. you could hear she was getting slightly angry as the conversation progressed, so you grabbed her hand to calm her down, y’know? but she decided to pull away. leaving you stood there embarrassed and feeling extremely awkward.
“i’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?” you mumbled seconds later, not staying long enough to hear her response: if there even was one. you cursed when you tried to open the door, finding it was locked. from the smoke filled air and bottle covered surfaces, everywhere felt crowded. more crowded than you deal with right now, so you made your way out onto the, thankfully empty, small terrace that would grant you refuge.
clearing your lungs with a deep inhale, sobering up slightly while looking out into the darkness. she’d dropped your hand. maybe it was the alcohol making you overthink it, but you weren’t THAT drunk. abby always let you hold her hand, she knew you got nervous at these things. so you couldn’t understand why she didn’t this time. was she angry at you? had you done something wrong without realising? this spiral would’ve continued if it hadn’t been for a voice behind you.
“baby, what are you doing out here?” abby asked, voice laced with a slightly worried tone, as she kneeled down in front you. “nothing.” you choked, trying to avoid the tears that had accumulated in your eyes. “thought you said you were going to the bathroom?” she said, putting a hand on your knee. “it was full.”
she pouted, looking you up and down with concern. “d’you wanna go? i won’t mind.” she smiled, pushing your hair behind your ear in an attempt to cheer you up. biting your lip, you nodded, standing up. you walked silently behind her to the car, not really wanting to talk.
abby opened the door for you and held your side as you got inside. you took a deep breath as she walked around to the driver’s seat, knowing she would have questions. she slipped in, putting on her seatbelt and starting the car. abby let the sound of the radio fill the car for a few moments, driving away from loud house out onto the dimly lit street.
after what felt like a lifetime of awkward silence, she turned the dial down. “so you gonna tell me what’s the matter?” she said softly, gripping the wheel tightly as she did. “it’s nothing.” you muttered before looking down to your fumbling hands. “it didn’t seem like nothing.”
“well, it was. okay?” you snapped; voice croaking as you finished. abby frowned, turning to you as you reached the red light. “have i done something?” her voice was low - accusatory - and her eyebrows were furrowed. you looked up to the green light, “go.” she huffed, sticking her tongue into her cheek before nodding to herself. “so i have.” she whispered. “abby-“ you started. “what did i do?”
“it was nothing, i’m just overreacting.” you rambled, quietly thankful you’d reached your street so you could get out of this seemingly tiny car. “no, i must’ve done something. so tell me.” she sounded calm, words slow and sure. but you knew she was the opposite. she parked outside your apartment building, having failed to answer her request, you quickly got out and rushed towards your door, her not far behind you. “i asked you what i did to make you upset. answer me, please.” you pushed the key into the lock, turning it and pressing down on the handle before finally answering. “you dropped my hand.”
“i- what?” abby replied, laughing softly. “knew you’d think i was being stupid.” you whispered, throwing your stuff onto the side as you walked towards the kitchen. “i don’t think you’re being stupid. just tell me when this happened.” you grabbed a glass, “before i said i was going to the bathroom, you were talking to whats-his-face when i tried to hold your hand and you let go like- immediately.” you went on, finishing as the water reached the top of the glass.
“no it wasn’t like that.” she shook her head as you faced her, your furious pout not seeming to approve of her response. “it sure seemed like it.” you hissed, pushing past her towards your bedroom. you could hear her footsteps heavy on the floor behind you. “no, baby stop. sweetheart listen to me.” you pushed the door open, settling the glass down on the nightstand. “okay talk.” you began to undress, wanting to just go to sleep already. you were fully sober now, and very tired.
“i didn’t mean to drop your hand, i was about to get an eyelash off your face- but you pulled away before i could!” you looked up to her, sighing with a mix of relief and adoration for the girl. “oh abs. i’m so dumb.” you said as you stood up. softly smiling, you wrapped your arms around her waist and leant your head against her chest. “you’re not stupid, okay- maybe a little.” she joked, kissing your forehead. “how about i make it up to you?” she whispered in your ear before pressing her hips against yours “yeah, good idea.” you mumbled, slightly breathless.
that’s how you found yourself laid back on the bed with her whispering sweet nothings against your skin. each kiss against your thighs was making your patience disappear more and she could tell. “you sound so pretty like that.” you looked down at her, meeting her darkened eyes. “so fucking desperate for me.” you caught a glimpse of a smile before her tongue delicately made its way through your folds. the noise you made when she reached your clit was borderline pornographic, let’s just hope your neighbors weren’t in tonight.
feeling her tongue swiping back and forth against your needy little clit, your hands reached to her scalp; pulling her hair softly as you pulled her closer. “hands off baby.” you groaned, having to use your hips to get her closer. “abby, fuck.” you whimpered, thighs suddenly tightening around her head. “mhm.” she hummed, looking up to you again. “look at me.” she said against your pussy, moving her head lower once you did. “those fucking eyes.” she mumbled before slowly pushing her tongue into your hole, smirking as she felt it pulse around her. she moved it around slowly, before pulling back out just to thrust it back in again.
then she stopped. deciding to now leaving soft, far too gentle kisses around your lips. close to where you needed, but ever so far. “please don’t stop.” you whispered, screwing your eyes closed as if that would hurry her up. perhaps it worked, as you instantly felt two fingers push roughly inside you. your hips bucked upwards, a loud whine rolling out of your throat. “look so good for me, taking it so well.” she cooed, using her other hand to spread your lips. “your clit’s so swollen baby, want me to take care of it?” abby asked, her hot breath against it making you go crazy. you nodded, not receiving anything in return.
“use your words baby, tell me what you want.” she spoke, slightly mockingly as she dragged out the final word. feeling her large fingers thrusting inside of you relentlessly, you were almost rendered speechless entirely. but you managed to stutter out a “please touch my fucking clit abby.” that had her immediately suckling on it like a starved woman. the added sensation had you quickly getting closer and closer, that knot in your stomach tightening more by the second.
“feel so tight around my fingers, pretty. gonna cum for me?” she said, instantly returning to her assault on your clit while her fingers pressed against that spot inside you that made you see stars. you made some kind of noise to tell her yes before the cord snapped and you were drowning in her. “that’s it, sound so fucking beautiful when you cum.” abby hummed, stretching out the beautiful as her fingers started thrusting even faster. your legs snapped together as you pulled away, but a hand pressed down firmly on your hip, keeping you locked in place.
“you can take it can’t you? i just want you to feel good baby.” she cooed, keeping her pace rapid. “it’s too much.” you cried out, feeling your twitchy clit sting at the continued pressure against your insides. “you can take it.” she said, whether it was to reassure you or simply an order, you didn’t know. but to be honest, you didn’t care. you were gonna take it whether it hurt or not.
“fuckfuckfuck-“ you whined, feeling that knot tighten back up again. but with her fingers fucking into you like that, it felt so, so much more overwhelming. your mind was just chanting abby on repeat, and perhaps your mouth was too - you were too out of it to know.
then it was like a fucking explosion inside you, limbs spasming around her as your mind went foggy. you gripped onto the bed for some kind of relief from the pleasure that was consuming your every cell, but eventually you were just fucking floating. abby pulled her fingers out at some point, before softly licking up the mess you’d made all over your thighs. she left to go and grab a warm cloth, wiping you down before cleaning her face.
abby pulled your underwear back up your legs gently, stroking your hips as she did so. “i’d never drop your hand.” she whispered. you smiled at her, eyes barely open. “maybe you should, if it’ll end like this.” you joked, eliciting a small laugh from her.
she may have never dropped your hand after that, but she did fuck you until you saw stars, that’s for sure.
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roosterforme · 1 year
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Batting Practice Part 13 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You don't show up to the game the next day, and Bradley has to face Molly's wrath when she comes in your place. His heart is broken as he feels the consequences of his words, but he finally realizes just how much you and Everett mean to him. Then he sees you at Everett's Career Day, but you're not making it easy on him.
Warnings: Angst, swearing
Length: 5300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Bradley sat up most of the night in his sad apartment, sipping on a bottle of bourbon and feeling like a prize asshole. He had finally found a woman he thought he could settle down with, thought the three of you could maybe be a family, but he managed to fuck all of it up before you were even properly dating him.
This was just so on brand for him, it was laughable. Every bad decision that could be made about women, well he made them. He just had to go spouting off for weeks on end that he didn't date moms with baggage, and now Jake had made everything blow up in his face. 
The problem was, Bradley actually had said all of that shit, but that was before he really got to know you and Everett. It made him sick now to think about the implications of what he had said. 
You hated him now. He knew you must. He had managed to hurt your feelings so deeply, he didn't know if you would ever look at him again. But the truth was, Bradley was the one with all the baggage. He was the one who didn't know how to make the right decisions. He was the one who made everything too complicated. Not you. Not Everett. The two of you were perfect. And he thought for a moment that he could have you. But now he knew he had been wrong again.
And there was no doubt in his mind that Carole Bradshaw would be so disappointed in him right now. Because she would have reacted the same way that you had. She would have stood up for her only son and protected him no matter what.
He groaned as he got to his feet, swaying as he set down his half empty bottle of alcohol on the kitchen counter. He needed to get it together and make it to the tee ball game in six hours. 
You would be there! He could try to talk to you then. Unless you kept Everett home instead. Bradley felt like crying, so he just dragged himself to his bed and passed out with his uniform pants still on.
Bradley's alarm barely woke him up as he dragged his sandpaper tongue across his teeth and moaned. His head was throbbing, but he managed to get up and get right in the shower at the prospect of seeing you. He didn't have time to shave or eat, but he did make it to the ballfield early, just in case.
"You look like shit," Bob told him, and his expression was something akin to disappointment.
Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."
"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley wasn't exactly sure how much everyone knew. He hadn't stayed at the bar for very long after you left, preferring to drink at home alone. Chalk that up to another poor decision made. 
"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."
Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday." 
Now Bradley felt even worse, because Bob's relationship with your sister shouldn't have to be the collateral damage of his word vomit. "I'm so sorry."
"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."
"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."
Then Bradley's heart was skipping erratically in his chest, making his head throb more. When he saw Everett in his blue uniform, he squinted against the sunlight and almost took off running. But it wasn't you. It was Molly. And she looked pissed as hell. 
"I'll be right back," Bob mumbled and headed for her instead. Which was fine with Bradley, because now something much worse was happening. Everett was bounding toward him, and he didn't know how he was supposed to react. He just braced himself for the pain.
"Hi, Coach Bradley! See? I remembered to call you Coach Bradley instead of just Bradley since it's a tee ball day. When can we go back to the park again?"
Bradley wanted to cry. "Hey, kiddo. I missed you all week when I was away." And that was the honest truth. 
Everett just shrugged. "Practice was still fun, because my mom made it funny. And we won our last game, even though you weren't there. Do you think you can still win Coach of the Year if you missed a game?"
Bradley reached for Everett and pulled him in for a brief hug while Molly glared at him right past Bob's elbow. 
"Where's your mom, kiddo? Is she coming?"
Everett shook his head. "No, she was crying this morning, even though she didn't want me to know it. She does that sometimes, but it's usually only right after we see my dad."
Fuck. Bradley made you cry as hard as Danny did. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly feel worse, the honest words from a first grader twisted the knife a little deeper. Bradley had assured you that he was better than both Frank and Danny, but he was actually the worst one of the bunch. 
"You want me to help you with your cleats?" Bradley asked, and soon he was changing Everett's shoes while Molly kissed Bob on the cheek. He felt a tiny bit better that maybe he didn't fuck things up for Bob as well as himself. But then Everett said something that made him want to drink another bottle of bourbon and pass out. 
"Coach Bradley, are you still excited for the Phillies game next weekend?"
Bradley froze with the laces halfway tired on Everett's right shoe. He swallowed hard; in all of his fucking up, Bradley had forgotten about the upcoming game. He was going to have to disappoint Everett, because there was no way you would let him take your son to the game now. 
But he didn't know what to say other than, "So excited, kiddo." Then he sent Everett to start warming up while he pulled out his phone and tried to call you again. Voicemail. A second time. Voicemail. He'd left you so many messages already, but he decided to leave another one.
"Kitten. I'm sorry. I miss you. Please, Kitten. Please, call me back."
Bradley was surprised the Tiny Eagles managed to win the game. He was having such a hard time focusing as Molly's glare was burning a hole in his back. But every time he turned toward her, she was looking elsewhere. When the game ended, he took off in her direction, leaving Bob to clean everything up. 
"Where is she? Is she okay? Is she at home?" he asked Molly, who was finally looking directly at him as she stood up. 
"That's none of your business," she said, and Bradley knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her, but he was going to try anyway.
"Molly, listen, I fucked up. I said that shit before I really knew her. Before I really knew what I wanted."
She crossed her arms over her chest, and the look on her face had Bradley taking a step backwards. "You called Everett baggage," she hissed as her eyes flashed. And if her sister was a Kitten, then Molly was a feral street cat that desperately wanted to give Bradley rabies. 
"Please, I'm begging you. Will you talk to her for me? Ask her to call me back?"
Molly's harsh laugh had him feeling hopeless. "She doesn't owe you anything, and neither do I. She's not your girlfriend. And now she's never going to be your girlfriend."
"Molly! What do I have to do to get her to talk to me?" Bradley asked, ready to beg on his knees for the chance to explain himself. "I made a mistake. But I care about her. And Ev."
Molly shook her head sadly at him. "Even Frank wasn't this bad. At least he didn't mind that she has a son. Who, by the way, is the sweetest child in existence." Now Molly looked like she was going to cry.
Bradley took his hat off and balled it up in his hands. He realized he probably looked insane right now, but he just needed to know how to get you to listen. "I can explain myself to her. I'll beg her to listen to me. I'll bring more flowers and more baseball cards for Ev. I'll-"
Molly cut him off with a jab of her index finger to his chest. "You can bring all the flowers and cards you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you're not good enough for her. You're not good enough for them!"
His voice was soft now, because he knew she was right. "Molly, please help me talk to her."
"You know, she wants to pull Ev from the team," Molly replied, picking up his gear bag as he ran over. Bradley felt sick; he wouldn't get to see you or Everett anymore. "The only reason she's not going to pull him is because of the friends he's made, and because she's a better person than you. But she thought about it. I hope you know you hurt her that bad."
Everett plopped down on the bench, and Bradley watched Molly instantly switch modes and turn into the loving aunt that she normally was. He really was bringing out the worst in everyone right now. 
When Everett was all ready to leave, and he and Molly were heading for her car, Bradley jogged up next to him. "Kiddo? Can you tell your mom something for me?"
"Sure, Coach," he replied, smiling up at Bradley like he always did. 
Molly was staring daggers at him again as he said, "Tell her I was wrong before, but now I have my priorities straight."
"Come on, Ev," Molly told him, taking him by the hand and pulling him along. "We need to go."
Bradley knew he wasn't like Danny or Frank, and he just needed an opportunity to prove it. But he didn't want to upset Everett who was looking back at him with wide eyes. "Tell her I miss her, and I can't wait to see her next time! Bye, Kiddo!"
"Bye, Coach!"
-------------------------------
Luckily Molly was working overnight tonight and offered to take Everett to his game, because you were in no way ready to see Bradley today. Your heart was actually broken, and you were just so embarrassed. 
Your kid's hot tee ball coach. Could you possibly be any more predictable? Any more of a chiche?
You were still in your pajamas forcing down some toast when Molly brought Everett back home around noon. "We ate lunch," she told you. "Everett wanted the baseball Happy Meal toy."
"Thanks," you mumbled, knowing that your little sister who spent the night holding your hand wouldn't judge you for looking like a mess right now.
"Mommy, are you sick today?" Ev asked, and your heart sank.
"Yeah, Ev. I'm not feeling great."
He set his Happy Meal toy down and started taking off his shoes. "I know what will make you feel better! Coach said he missed you! And he can't wait to see you next time. And that he has his prior tires straight."
Molly sighed and shook her head. "He means priorities."
"Yeah. Priorities," Everett said, agreeing with her. 
You felt like crying all over again, and now your phone was vibrating with another call from him. You ignored it as Molly told Everett to grab a snack and eat it out on the back deck. Once he was out of earshot, you told your sister, "He keeps calling and texting me. I don't understand why he cares so much, since I'm clearly a joke to him and all of his friends."
Molly sprawled out on your couch. "He actually seems upset, and I am telling you that begrudgingly, because I want to hate him."
You twisted your fingers together, afraid to know, but you asked anyway. "Did he say anything to you?" 
"Yeah," Molly said with a laugh. "Plenty. He begged me to get you to talk to him. I honestly thought he was going to plead on his knees. He said he made a mistake, and he doesn't feel that way now at all."
Oh. Well that was interesting. Your phone vibrated again. 
"And Bob said Bradley is an idiot, but he didn't think he was actually trying to hurt you," Molly added. "Of course I also asked Bob if he knew that Bradley felt like kids were baggage and moms were a waste of time."
"What did he say?" you whispered, setting your phone down before you caved and answered it.
"Bob said he would find it hard to believe that Bradley actually felt that way now, based on how much he loves you and Everett. He used those words, not me."
Your heart was pounding as your doorbell rang, and Molly sprang up to answer it. "Oh, shit," Molly mumbled as she carried several huge bouquets of colorful flowers into the kitchen.
As you opened the card attached to the first one you picked up, your eyes went wide. All of the cards said the same thing, written in Bradley's handwriting. 
I'm so sorry, Kitten. You and Everett are NOT baggage. You're perfect. I didn't mean it. Please, talk to me.
"Well, you don't need all of these flowers, so I'm taking some to my apartment," Molly said, kissing your cheek as she scooped up a few bouquets. "I'll come by in the morning after work."
And then she was gone, and you were sitting inside a massive floral display with very mixed emotions. 
-----------------------------
Bradley went home and drank the rest of Saturday away until he was asleep. If Molly wasn't willing to help him, and he could understand why she wasn't, then he would have to figure this out on his own. Because at this point, he didn't know what he was going to do without you and Everett. He needed you. He needed to fix this. 
On Sunday morning, he took a shower and got himself cleaned up. Two days of looking like a disaster was enough, so he dumped the rest of the bourbon down the drain as well. Then he grabbed the one thing he needed and drove to your house, nervous as hell that you wouldn't answer the door for him even if you were home.
He parked behind Molly's car and sighed. She was acting as your bodyguard right now, that's how badly he had fucked up. Either you or Molly didn't want you to be left alone. He climbed out of his Bronco with the binder tucked under his arm, and he made his way up to your front porch.
Before he could even knock, the door swung open to reveal an exhausted looking Molly in wrinkled scrubs holding a cup of coffee. "What do you want now?" she asked, and Bradley stood back far enough that she would probably miss him if she tossed the coffee. 
"Will you please tell her I'm here?"
"She's not home," Molly replied coolly. 
"Her car is in the driveway," he replied.
Molly sighed. "She's soaking in the tub, and she doesn't want to talk to you."
Bradley ran his hand over his face, unsure how much he should push. But then Everett came bounding out onto the porch and into Bradley's arms.
"Coach! I mean Bradley! What are you doing here? The Phillies game isn't until next Sunday! And Career Day isn't until Wednesday!"
Bradley's heart clenched with need. If he couldn't take Everett to the Phillies game, he didn't know what he would do. The kid would be crushed, and truthfully, so would he. 
He knelt on the porch and held up the binder. "I just came by to give you this," Bradley told him, really examining his face. He looked so much like you. He could see some of Danny there as well, but there was no denying that Everett took after his mom. 
"What is it?" Everett asked, but when he opened it and saw the plastic pages filled with baseball cards, his eyes went wide. "No way! Are these for me?"
"Yep. All yours, kiddo." Bradley had grabbed one of his binders at random, and probably just handed a six year old a collection worth a thousand dollars. But he didn't care. It didn't matter. Bradley swallowed hard and glanced at Molly before he asked Everett, "How's your mom?"
Everett just shrugged while he looked at the baseball cards. "She said she doesn't feel good. Something must be hurting her, because she keeps crying sometimes."
Bradley let the feeling of dread wash over him as Molly sipped her coffee. "Do you think she would let me take you to the park and pitch some balls?" he asked. But before Everett could even get excited, Molly cut him off.
"Not today, Ev. Remember, I'm taking you to the movies after lunch."
Bradley pressed his lips together and patted Everett on the shoulder as he stood up. "Another day, then."
When Bradley pulled away from the curb, Everett was waving to him while holding the baseball card binder, and Molly was standing behind her nephew, flipping Bradley the middle finger. 
---------------------------------
On Monday, Bradley flew like shit. He couldn't pay attention, and he was honestly a little nervous that someone was going to get hurt. 
"What the fuck was that?" Nat asked him once they were back on the tarmac. "I'm team leader! You need to listen to me!"
"I'm sorry," he told her. "You're absolutely right. I'm just distracted today."
"If this is about your Team Mom, you need to leave it on the ground." Nat was seething, and she had every right to be. "I know Jake blew your cover, but I tried to tell you from the start that if you were interested in her, you needed to get used to the fact that she has a kid!"
Now Bradley was seething too, because nobody seemed to want to listen to his side of things. "I am used to it, Nat! I got used to it real quick! And I wouldn't want it any other way!"
"Then sort your shit out or leave it on the ground!" She stormed away from him without another word. 
Then Bradley saw Maverick strolling his way and he tightened his grip on his helmet. "Listen, Bradley. I don't know what the hell happened to you in Lemoore or what your weekend was like, but you can't be flying like that. It's a liability. I'm grounding you for the week."
"What the fuck, Mav!"
But he just held up his hand. "There's no point in arguing with me. The Admirals don't want you in the air for a few days." Then he turned and headed back to the tower leaving Bradley alone in the bright sunlight. 
---------------------------
You skipped practice on Monday. It had been three days since Bradley had seen you, and the only thing holding his heart together was the fact that Everett was still happy to see him. 
"Hi, Coach Bradley!" he called with a wave as he ran ahead of Molly. 
When Bradley headed toward the bleachers to help him change his cleats, Bob grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him. "Hey, I'd steer clear of Molly if I were you. She's not your biggest fan at the moment." At least Bob's face looked sympathetic. 
"Yeah, I noticed."
Bob just kind of shrugged. "I took her out for dinner last night, and I tried my best to let her know you're not going to hurt her sister."
"Thanks," Bradley muttered. At least there was one person who didn't think he was horrible. 
Molly stood to the side and let Bradley tie Everett's cleats while he rambled on about how excited he was for Career Day. When he paused to take a breath, Bradley asked, "How's your mom, kiddo? She feeling better?"
"She's at a work meeting with someone named Frank," Everett replied, putting his Phillies cap on backwards to match with Bradley. He didn't like hearing that you were with Frank, potentially alone. But then Everett added, "She's still sad, too. She took my stuffed Phanatic to sleep with it. I think she remembered that you said it was good for if you're having a hard time."
Bradley closed his eyes for a beat. "You should go start warming up," he whispered, and Everett was off like a rocket running toward Bob. 
"She did give me a message for you," Molly told him as she sat on the bleachers and blew a kiss to Bob, who immediately started blushing. 
"What did she say?" he asked, preparing himself to beg her. 
"She wants you to stop sending flowers. I took some home, and she donated the rest to a nursing home. She said if you can't seem to stop, you can just send them directly to Bright Senior Living so she doesn't have to drive them there herself."
"Fuck," he growled, dropping down on the bench next to her and burying his face in his hands. He sat there for a bit as Bob started practice without him. He was so far out of his element. He had never chased a woman before in his life. He never saw the point in it until now. If he could figure out what to do, he would do it immediately. 
"You actually care about her?" Molly asked softly, and Bradley turned to look at her. 
"Not just her. Everett too. I can't get enough of either of them." His eyes were stinging as he watched Everett round the bases. 
"Then why did you call him baggage?"
Bradley stared at the turf. "Because I was terrified of falling for someone who was outside of my wheelhouse. Someone with more substance. Someone who would make it impossible to stop thinking about them." He stood, realizing it was time to go help Bob. "I'm an idiot. Truly, Molly, I do understand that. But I said all of that shit weeks and weeks ago, when I was just starting to realize that your sister meant something to me."
Molly nodded at him, and just as he was turning to head toward home plate, she said, "Then show her you care about them. And tell her what you told me. I'll let her know I can't bring Ev to practice on Thursday. And I'm pretty sure you're still on the roster for Career Day on Wednesday."
Bradley's heartbeat was speeding up. He felt more alive than he had since he was with you at the Hard Deck. "Thanks, Molly."
"Don't thank me. I'm still pissed at you. I just want my sister and nephew to be happy."
---------------------------
You left work at lunchtime on Wednesday and headed to Everett's school. When you planned out a five minute presentation for his class, you realized he was right: you did have a boring job. How you were supposed to make accounting interesting for a bunch of six and seven year olds was beyond you. It also didn't help that you were having the shittiest week ever. 
Not only were you missing Bradley and trying to get over him, you had been forced to stay late and work with Frank on Monday. Well, he had volunteered to stay late when he heard you were going to. And now you couldn't even lie to him and say you were seeing Bradley to get him off your back. 
With a deep sigh, you opened your car door and headed across the parking lot in your suit and high heels, the hot sun making you uncomfortable in your long sleeves. 
And then you heard his voice in person for the first time since Friday night. "Kitten."
You turned to see Bradley walking up the sidewalk in his flight suit, boots, and aviators looking impossibly handsome. You had been listening to his voicemail apologies last night, but the way he sounded in person made your spine tingle with need. 
You tamped it down. "What are you doing here?" you asked, not bothering to look at him as he caught up to you.
He was silent for a beat. "Everett invited me."
You scoffed. "Well, I'm uninviting you."
"Kitten. Please."
"No," you said sternly. "Why even bother if he's just my excess baggage?"
Bradley stopped walking, and when you turned to look at him, he had the same expression he had worn after you slapped him across his cheek. "He's not," Bradley rasped. "He's perfect. And so are you. And I don't want to make him upset if I don't show up."
You rolled your eyes. "Come on." He followed you like your shadow, his warmth at your back. You thought maybe he was going to touch you when you signed both of them in at the office and got name tags. It seemed like he wanted to, like maybe he was holding back. And as much as you wanted to scream in his face, your body was betraying you by craving his touch.
"This way," you told him, and when you entered Everett's classroom with Bradley next to you, your son's eyes lit up. He waved at both of you from his seat, and you had to plaster on a smile. Before giving it too much thought, you grabbed one of the empty seats between two other parents, leaving Bradley to fend for himself. 
You sat politely and listened to Harper's mom talk about neurosurgery. Then Peyton's dad talked about construction equipment. You gave everyone your full attention, firmly ignoring Bradley. You didn't even look at him once while you stood in front of the class and talked about how important math is. 
Once you were finished, you kissed Everett's forehead before you returned to your seat. But then it was Bradley's turn, and you couldn't help but look at him.
"Hi, I'm Lieutenant Bradshaw, and Everett invited me here to talk about flying jets called Super Hornets." Every pair of eyes was glued to him as he gave a riveting presentation. Everett was practically vibrating with excitement at his desk, clearly so proud to have brought the most interesting adult to Career Day. You also noted that every woman was drooling over Bradley, including Everett's teacher. 
It was crazy to think that for a short time, you thought he was going to be yours. 
When everyone was done speaking, you popped out of your seat and told Everett you'd pick him up in a few hours, and then you were making a beeline for the door. You could hear Bradley calling your name, but you just kept going all the way to your car. 
"Kitten, please!" He was right behind you now, and you saw his big hand shoot past your shoulder and hold your door firmly closed. "Can we talk?"
You turned to face him, and you were taken back to every single time he had walked you and Everett to your car after tee ball practice. 
"About what?" you whispered. He had caught you off guard. You meant to start yelling, but all of the warm feelings he gave you were right there at the surface.
His eyes went a little wide as his lips parted, seemingly surprised you weren't shouting at him. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I fucked up. I should have never said those things, because I didn't even mean them."
You couldn't meet his eyes as you asked him, "Why did you say that to your friends? I feel humiliated. I feel like you think Everett and I are a joke."
"No!" he said, keeping his hand against the door and leaning a little closer to you. "You're not. And he's not. I said that so long ago, because I was instantly attracted to you, Kitten. And that terrified me."
You felt the fight draining out of you, and you knew you needed to get in your car and leave before he saw you crying. But instead you said, "Maybe you're right though. We're a lot to handle. I shouldn't have expected things to be easy."
When you turned and tried to open your door, Bradley held it shut. "Will you look at me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder as you felt tears stinging your eyes. "You and Everett are not a lot to handle. You're the perfect amount. Being around both of you makes me feel so good, Kitten." 
You swallowed hard and shook your head. "Thanks for coming today, I guess. It made him happy."
He let go of the door and ran his thumb across your jaw. "I don't think I would be able to live with myself if I made him cry."
You nodded and ducked away from his hand. "I'll figure it out. Make it so that this doesn't break his heart."
"Don't say that, Kitten. I still want to take him to the Phillies game on Sunday. I want all three of us to go," he whispered as you turned your back fully to him again. 
"I don't think that's a good idea."
You could feel his frustration rolling off of him, and his voice sounded panicked. "Where does that leave us, Kitten? Do I even stand a chance now?"
"I don't know. I need to get back to work. Bye, Coach."
This time he let you open the door, and he closed it softly once you were inside. When you pulled away, he just stood in the parking spot watching you. 
--------------------------
Bradley ended up at the Hard Deck after Career Day at Everett's school. He was grounded from flying, you'd just told him you didn't know where he stood with you, and he was probably going to make Everett cry at some point this week.
He ran his hands over his face and nursed a beer for a while. When Nat and Jake showed up, eyeing him cautiously, he thought it would be to his advantage to just head home. He handed Penny some cash, but Nat rubbed his shoulder. 
"I'm sorry I screamed at you on Monday."
"I deserved it," Bradley replied. "I wasn't being safe."
"You look fucking miserable," Jake drawled, leaning on the bar next to Bradley.
"You're literally the last person I want to talk to right now," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Thanks for Friday night."
Jake just shook his head. "Hey, I was just trying to get in her pants, okay? She's gorgeous, and you made it pretty clear the last time we talked about her that you were not interested."
Bradley couldn't even get mad, because Jake was actually right. "Well I'm pretty fucking interested in her now, okay? Stay out of her pants."
Jake just grinned. "I think I know what might help."
"This sounds suspicious," Bradley muttered, eyeing Jake cautiously. "Let's hear it."
"You still planning on going to that Padres game this weekend?"
"I don't know," Bradley groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
"Well," Jake said as he signalled Penny for a drink. "My landlord's son is the head groundskeeper at Petco Park. I can try to pull some strings if you think it will help."
Bradley gaped at him. "Do it."
---------------------------
Molly is the sister I wish I had! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!
PART 14
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wholoveseggs · 2 months
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Hello, how are you? Could i request an angsty but smutty and fluff fic of Elijah and reader where they get into a fight but makeup in the end?
Stubborn
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You and Elijah get into a fight about his protective nature. He thinks you are too stubborn, and you think he's too controlling. How will you resolve your issues?
♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I don't know if this is very angsty, but it certainly is very smutty ♡♡
4.1k words - Warnings: smuttttt, very little plot, Cami being the best, dom!elijah (you like him in control? well... here you go...), fingering, squirting, angry sex...
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"I'm not some damsel in distress, I don't need your protection!" You yelled, louder than you meant to. Arguing with Elijah was always a test of your restraint. He made it so damn difficult, he was always calm and composed. Sometimes you just wanted to push his buttons.
"Darling, I have so many enemies, and you're not invincible." He tried to reason.
"Don't patronize me, I know that, but you treat me like I can't take care of myself!" You snapped, pacing around the living room. You tried to calm yourself down, you didn't want to say something you'd regret, but the anger bubbling inside you wouldn't go away.
"I'm not trying to patronize you, I just think you could make better decisions." He said softly, his eyes following you as you paced.
"It's like you're treating me like a child! We're supposed to be equals, and you always talk to me like you're the parent and I'm the kid!" Your voice cracked a little, when you got angry you also would cry. You hated that about yourself.
Elijah could see the pain in your eyes, you were his soft and sweet y/n. He just wanted to protect you. He tried to approach you, to hold you and comfort you, but you pushed him away.
His actions made you feel weak, and foolish, here was a man that faced countless dangers, he was centuries old, he fought vampires and werewolves, witches and even his own siblings. And you were just this fragile thing, this tiny human he had to watch out for. It made you feel so weak and pathetic, all your insecurities bubbling up inside you, the tears falling down your cheeks.
You stormed away from him, and he let you, because he knew if he pushed you, it would just make things worse.
You had been dating Elijah for two months now, and in that time, he had taken on the role of a protective boyfriend. You liked being taken care of, but sometimes it felt like he didn't see you as an equal.
You had been arguing about this a lot lately. You didn't like being treated like you were breakable. You weren't. You had dealt with plenty of dangers in your life, and he didn't give you enough credit.
He was a stubborn man, and you were a stubborn woman, so the tension kept rising, until you finally had to get away from him. So you decided to stay at Cami's for a few days, she was a good friend, and she didn't judge you. She could always use some company anyways.
"So, he's a bit over protective, huh?" Cami asked. You were curled up on her couch, drinking a glass of wine. You were both having a night in, wearing pajamas and doing self-care.
"Yeah, and I know he means well, but I really value my independence, it's not something I'm willing to give up," You admitted.
"Do you feel like he doesn't respect you?" She asked, taking a sip of her own wine.
"No, he does, I know that, but it feels like he doesn't trust me." You said, looking down into your glass.
Cami stood and grabbed some snacks, tossing you a bag of your favorite chips. "I don't think that's it, I think he's scared. Scared to lose you. He's been through so much, and he's lost a lot of people he's loved." She said, plopping back down on the couch.
You let out a long sigh, you knew of his pain, but it was still hard to hear out loud. He held all of his trauma inside him, and sometimes it was difficult for him to share, even with you.
"I love him Cami, it's just hard. I've always had to take care of myself, I guess I just have a hard time accepting someone wanting to do that for me." You said softly, feeling the tears brimming your eyes.
"Have you told him that? That you love him?" She asked.
"No, I... I want him to say it first." You admitted.
Cami chuckled and took a long sip of her wine, then grabbed the remote and turned on a movie. It was one of those sappy romances that were so over the top and cheesy. But that's why they were so fun to watch.
"Just tell him. I'm sure he loves you too." Cami said, her gaze fixed on the tv.
"I know," you sighed, "I just want him to initiate, his so reserved, and I'm tired of always being the one who has to take the first step." You grumbled.
"He's probably worried about scaring you away, or making things awkward, you know how he can be." She said, turning to look at you, giving you a comforting smile.
"Yeah, I guess." You mumbled, curling up further on the couch.
Cami gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and the two of you continued to watch your movie, the sappy love story playing out in front of you.
"So," she said, breaking the silence, "how's the sex?"
You choked on your wine, sputtering a bit before regaining your composure. Cami was a little shit sometimes.
"The sex is amazing," You said, smirking at her. "But... I'm always the one initiating it. Sometimes I think his biggest problem is that he's too gentlemanly."
"Well, what have you done to make him be more spontaneous?" Cami asked, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring more in her glass.
"Me?" You squeaked. "What did I do?"
"Maybe he doesn't want to take control because you never gave him permission." She asked.
You sat and thought about that. You were usually the one who would start things. You initiated kisses, hugs, hand holding, even the sex. Elijah was so reserved, so proper, he didn't want to overstep. It made you feel like he didn't desire you, which was ridiculous, you had seen him undressing you with his eyes.
"That's fair." You said. "I didn't realize he was waiting for permission."
"Men are idiots." Cami stated, making you laugh.
"Sometimes," you said, chuckling. "I just want to see him be the one to initiate, you know?"
"I know." She said, leaning back on the couch.
You finished the bottle of wine and watched the rest of the movie. It was so sweet, the ending was a happy one, the couple was together and they were in love. You wished life was that simple.
The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. Cami was already awake, making coffee.
"Ugh," you groaned, rubbing your temples. "I should have drank more water,"
"I tried to remind you." Cami said, smirking at you.
"Well, excuse me for being drunk," You replied.
She handed you a mug of coffee, and you sipped it slowly, letting the warmth of the drink soothe your throat.
"Thanks for letting me stay here," you said.
"You know I don't mind." She replied, sitting on the couch next to you.
You leaned your head on her shoulder, sighing.
"I love him, but I think I need some space. Some time to myself." You said softly.
"I think that's a good idea." She replied.
"Are we doing the right thing? Am I being selfish?" You asked, chewing your bottom lip.
"No, you're not. You're being realistic. You need some space and some time to yourself." She replied.
"I'm going to go to the compound and pick up some clothes and stuff." You said.
"Want me to come with you?" She asked.
"No, that's ok, I think I can handle myself." You replied, smiling at her.
She gave you a reassuring squeeze and you got up, feeling a bit better after your talk.
"Thanks Cami, I'll call you later," You said, grabbing your keys and heading out.
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Elijah was sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of whiskey, and he had a book open in front of him, though he wasn't reading it. His mind was too preoccupied. He missed you terribly, it had only been a couple days, but it felt like an eternity.
He thought back to the last conversation you had had. You had stormed off, and he hadn't chased after you, because he knew you needed time to cool down. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, but he knew you didn't want to hear it right now.
You were the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he didn't want to lose you. He was used to losing people, he had spent centuries running, he had been betrayed, lied to, hurt. But he had never met anyone quite like you.
You were sweet, funny, smart, and caring. He had fallen for you quickly, but he had been too afraid to admit it. Like if he said it out loud, everything would fall apart.
But in your absence he realized his mistake, and how foolish he had been. No more wasting time, he needs to tell you that he loves you, despite how stubborn you are.
You walked into the compound, it was eerily quiet, you hoped Elijah was out. So you could just quickly grab your things and leave.
You didn't expect him to be waiting for you in the kitchen, his face was serious, but his eyes were full of emotion.
"Elijah, I'm just here to pick up some clothes," You said, trying to walk past him. He stepped in front of you, blocking your way.
"We need to talk." He said, his tone firm.
"No, we really don't, I just want my things," You said, trying to move around him. He moved again, his arms crossed, and his face was stern.
"Stop treating me like a child! Let me by!" You yelled. He let you pass him and you ran up to your bedroom, grabbing some clothes.
He followed you and stood in the doorway, watching you, his eyes boring into your skin.
"Stop looking at me like that," You said, throwing some clothes into a bag.
"I hate seeing you upset," He replied, his voice soft.
"I'm not upset, I'm just angry." You said, moving past him to go into the bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush.
He followed you and leaned against the doorframe, watching you gather your toiletries.
"Please, let's just talk." He pleaded.
You sighed, looking up at him, his expression was pained, his jaw was clenched. You could see the desperation in his eyes. Your anger was still in charge though and you pushed past him again and started packing your things on the bed.
"So talk, I'm listening," You said harshly, still not looking at him.
He took a deep breath, his fists clenched, and he closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself. He knew he couldn't get through to you when you were angry like this.
"You're right," He said, opening his eyes and looking at you. "I'm sorry. I haven't been treating you fairly. I've been trying to protect you. But you are being stubborn and you're not letting me explain,"
You turned to look at him, trying to ignore how good he looked. His hair was messy, like he had been running his hands through it, and he was wearing a black shirt, his sleeves rolled up, and his tie was hanging loose around his neck. A part of you wanted to just give in and kiss him, but the other part of you was still pissed off.
He could hear your heart beating faster, your body temperature rising. He knew that he had an effect on you, and he was enjoying seeing you get flustered. He gave you a crooked smirk, and took a step closer to you, and you backed up, hitting the bed.
You took a shaky breath, trying to steady your breathing. You were angry, but his presence always made your body react, and your head spin.
"So stubborn," he growled, pushing you onto the bed.
"Fuck you, Elijah," you hissed, trying to sit up.
"Not today," he smirked, pinning you down with his weight.
"I said, fuck you," You growled, pushing on his chest.
He chuckled and leaned down, his face inches from yours. His eyes were dark, his lips curled up in a devilish smile.
"Say please," He purred, his breath ghosting over your lips.
You let out a frustrated groan, and he kissed you, hard. You whimpered, and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring it, tasting you.
"Is this what you want? To be fucked?" He whispered, his lips grazing your ear.
"No," you lied, trying to squirm away from him, but his grip was too tight.
"Don't lie, darling, your body betrays you," He growled, nibbling your earlobe before leaving a trail of hickeys down your neck.
He suddenly tore the shirt off of you, making you gasp. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his other hand moving to your waist, pulling your skirt off.
"Eli- my clothes!" You whined, but he just chuckled, his eyes roaming your body.
"I'll buy you new ones," He smirked, nipping at your jaw, then capturing your lips with his.
"You can't just-" you were cut off by him biting your lip. You groaned and he released you, his hands roaming your body.
"Stop being so stubborn," He whispered, his fingers brushing over your lace panties, making you shiver.
"I'm not," you argued, biting back a moan as his fingers teased your clit.
He laid on his side next to you, opening your legs and pushing your panties out of the way. He grazed over your clit with the pad of his index finger, teasing you slowly. He loved this, teasing you, torturing you. You were so beautiful when you were desperate for him.
You whined and pushed your hips against his hand, and he pulled his hand away, smirking.
"You're such a tease," You growled, glaring at him.
"You're cute when you're angry," He smiled, his fingers returning to your pussy. He tapped your clit lightly, his lips ghosting over yours. You tried not to react, but it felt so good, this dominant side of him was driving you crazy.
He slid two fingers into you, and began thrusting them slowly. You gasped and arched your back, moaning loudly. Watching your reaction was thrilling, his cock was painfully hard, but he wanted to make you cum first.
"Listen to those sweet sounds," he purred, pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right. “So filthy and wet, the way your body responds, it's like you were made for me."
"You're a fucking asshole," you moaned, trying to buck your hips against his fingers.
"I can stop, if you want," He whispered, his voice dark. 
"No," You whimpered, "I-I'm close."
"Oh, I know, darling." He smiled, "You're going to cum, and I'm going to make you cum again, and again, until all the stubborn thoughts in your head disappear."
His fingers were pumping fast now, and you couldn't help the noises you were making. Your orgasm was building in such a way that you knew it would be intense. He was right, you were stubborn, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan, but it was becoming more and more difficult to hold back.
"Eli- wait, your gonna make me-" You stuttered, gasping as he added a third finger, stretching you even more.
"Make a mess?" He purred, curling his fingers just right, hitting your g-spot.
The lewd, wet, squelching noises coming from your pussy were embarrassing, and the fact that he was enjoying them made it worse. He could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your whole body trembling, you were so close.
He sped up his pace, and he could see the moment when you reached your peak. Your body tensed up, your back arching, and then a loud cry escaped your lips.
Your juices spilled out onto his fingers, covering his hand. It was so much, you had never squirted before, and the look on Elijah's face was pure lust and amusement.
It made you embarrassed and a bit angry and you tried to move away, but he kept his fingers buried deep inside you, not letting you escape.
"Don't be ashamed," He said, kissing your forehead, his fingers moving slowly, causing your legs to tremble.
"I'm not," You panted, glaring at him, trying to suppress a moan.
"Really?" He purred, his eyes locking with yours, "Then why are you blushing?"
He smirked, and you tried to hide your face in the sheets, but he wouldn't let you. He was still smirking, and you were getting angrier.
"I'm not-"
"Shh, love, you can't hide from me," he cooed, his fingers still pumping into you, stretching you out. Building up another climax.
"Eli-fuck," You gasped, the pleasure building.
"That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds," He whispered, his voice husky.
He was still fully clothed, and he hadn't even touched himself, he was only focused on you.
He kept fucking his fingers into you, his thumb circling your clit, making sure every inch of your pussy was being stimulated.
Your body was trembling, and you could feel yourself getting close again, you pushed your heels into the bed, trying to get away, but he didn't stop, he just kept going, his pace relentless.
"I can't- oh fuck-," You gasped, arching your back as the orgasm crashed over you. Your wetness soaked his hand and the bed below.
Elijah pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth and licking them clean. Then he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips, tasting all of you.
You tried to glare at him, but he was now kissing your neck, his free hand moving down to cup your breast, teasing your nipples.
"I'm still mad at you," You panted, trying not to moan.
"I know," He smirked, "And I'm not finished with you."
He grabbed your thighs, spreading your legs, and settled between them, his eyes roaming over your body.
"Such a pretty thing," He murmured, tracing patterns on your skin.
He took ahold of your waist, pulling you towards him, and began to grind against your wet pussy, making you whimper.
"You're so sensitive, baby," He cooed, his lips brushing over your collarbone.
You could feel his erection straining against his pants, and you could tell he was enjoying this just as much as you were. He undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops, and tossing it to the floor.
He pulled your arms above your head, his hand gripping your wrists. He unzipped his pants and took his cock out, pressing it against your entrance.
"You're already soaked for me," He whispered, kissing you deeply.
You moaned into the kiss, and he pushed his cock into you, making you whimper. He was so thick, and his length filled you completely, making your body tremble.
He began to thrust into you, his pace steady, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing over your skin.
"I'm not a toy," You managed to say, your voice strained.
"No, you're not, you're mine," He growled, his hips slamming into yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.
"Fuck," You gasped, arching your back.
His grip on your wrists tightened, and he spread your legs even wider. He grinded his hips slowly, wanting to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible.
You could feel the pressure building, and it was becoming harder to concentrate, all you could focus on was his cock, his weight on top of you, the way he was looking at you.
"Say it," He growled, his hips moving faster now. "Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours," You moaned, your voice cracking, your resolve breaking with every deep stroke.
The sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy filled the room, mixed with your moans and gasps, and the way the bed was creaking. He knew you were close, he could feel your muscles starting to clench around him.
"No no stubborn one, you don't get to cum yet," He growled, nipping at your ear.
He wrapped your legs around his waist, pinning you to the bed. His pace increased and he leaned in to kiss you.
"Come on darling, give in, admit I'm right," He whispered.
"Eli, please," You moaned, your fingers gripping his shirt.
"All you have to do is submit," He cooed, pressing his lips to yours.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to resist the urge to give in, but it was so intense and his pace was relentless. He wasn't going to stop, not until you broke.
"Look at the way you open up for me," He said, his voice husky as he grinded against you. "Your needy little pussy, milking my cock, begging to be filled."
You looked down at where his cock was buried inside of you, moving in and out of your pussy. You could see how wet you were, covering his pants and your thighs, making a mess of the sheets.
"Hmm, you like that? Seeing how wet you are, all for me," He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. "Just admit that you are stubborn, and we can cum together."
Your whole body was shaking, your orgasm so close, but you fought it, squeezing your thighs together, trying to close your legs, but he wouldn't let you.
You gave up, you didn't care about the fight anymore, you just wanted to cum, you just wanted him to stop torturing you. You couldn't think straight, everything was too much, his thrusts were deep and hard, his cock was filling you, stretching you out, he knew just how to fuck you.
You couldn't hold back anymore and you finally gave in, submitting to him. "You're right," you gasped, your voice barely audible. "Please, Eli, fuck, I'm sorry, just let me cum."
"Good girl," He groaned, leaning back and spreading your thighs wide, pounding into you. He began to stroke your clit with his thumb, drawing circles, as his hips snapped hard and fast.
It was all too much, and you felt an intense release, your body convulsing, your wetness soaking him, making a mess of the clothes he was still wearing and the bed.
He chuckled, watching your cheeks flush in embarrassment as he fucked you through it. He made you squirt all over him, submitting to him completely.
You were still trembling, trying to catch your breath, you couldn't focus, your whole body was tingling with pleasure, you felt like you were floating.
He kissed you deeply, pressing his body to yours before he let out a low groan and came inside you, his cock twitching. You shuddered, your pussy still sensitive, but he didn't stop, he continued moving his hips slowly.
You could feel the warmth of his cum filling you, his cock throbbing, his breathing uneven. He kissed you softly and slowly, his fingers brushing over your cheek, caressing your face as he pulled out of you.
Now that you had come down from your high, you felt a mixture of frustration and humiliation. You tried to move, but he held you there, a devilish grin plastered on his face.
He shifted onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him, your body on top of his, your chest pressing against his chest.
"I love you," he whispered, pulling you in for another kiss.
"Eli," you muttered, burying your face in his chest. You couldn't believe he had fucked you in that way, and now he was saying the three words you wanted to hear the most. He was so perfect and so infuriating at the same time. You were angry that he was able to make you give in so easily, but it was worth it. It had never felt so good.
"I love you too, asshole," you replied, making him laugh.
He kissed you once more before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. His hands rested on your lower back, tracing lazy circles.
"I'm sorry for being protective, it's not because I don't trust you, it's because I'm afraid of losing you," he said quietly.
"I know, and I'm sorry for saying that you're a control freak," you apologized.
"No you're not," He smirked, kissing you again.
"I'm getting there," you sighed.
He laughed, tracing the curve of your hips with his fingertips. You could feel him harden underneath you, and it turned you on again. And you slowly ground your hips against his, teasing him.
His eyes grew dark, and he placed his hands on your ass, squeezing firmly. "Darling, don't," He said warningly, his voice strained.
You ignored him, rolling your hips, grinding into his lap, you wanted more.
"Don't be so stubborn Eli-,"
You were on your back before you could finish your sentence, your legs spread, his lips on yours.
You were definitely going to fight with him more often…
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please
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vernons-girl · 2 months
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never stopped loving you | lee dino
angsty but sweet,wc:0.9k
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A few months back you broke up with your boyfriend Dino.
And you might ask, why would you break up with such a nice boyfriend ?
Well, you were not feeling good. You did not feel like yourself anymore, and nothing felt right, nor fully real. So you decided you needed to spend some time alone to focus on yourself and only yourself because you did not want to hurt anyone’s feeling or make them feel bad about the way you were feeling yourself. So you broke up with your boyfriend. Because he was affected by your state, and you noticed it.
Sometimes you would have mood swings and push him away, he wanted to help you though, he really did, but you knew he could not. He was not the problem but you did not want your relationship with him to become a part of it, so you put an end to it.
The thing is, during that phase you were angry, sad and in pain, but mostly angry. So that resulted in you breaking up with him in a fit of rage without giving him any real motive for your actions, he knew you were not feeling good, so he did not ask more questions and left.
But now, a few months later you felt better, but also guilty. Guilty about the way you treated him at the end of your relationship and guilty about how you broke up with him. So one evening you decided to text him and asked if he wanted to grab breakfast with you, and very much to your surprise, he immediately agreed.
So here you were, waiting for him at your non-officially designated table in your favorite signature café. You were anxiously chewing on your bottom lip, scrapping of the lip balm you had put on earlier in the morning, playing with your fingers you did not see him coming by your table.
“You will never get rid of that habit, won’t you ?” a voice said, you looked up to be met with him, Dino.
He had not changed much, his hair was slightly longer and his efforts to the gym had obviously paid off but he was still the same, he was still your Dino.
"Hello ? Earth to Y/N ?” he waved his hand in front of you, getting your attention back even though your mind stuck to the way your name rolled out of his tongue.
“Yeah sorry.. Please sit down !” you said pointing to the empty spot in front of you.
And he did just that, “Have you ordered yet ?” he asked, “Yes I did! I ordered for you, I hope you still like the same things from here though, I should’ve asked I am sorry !” you apologized, feeling your face get hotter.
He chuckled, god you had missed hearing his breathy laugh, “Don’t worry, some habits don’t change” he replied.
The waiter brought you guys your drinks and snacks, breaking the awkward silence that had taken place, “Enjoy your drinks.” he politely said before walking away, leaving you once again with your ex boyfriend.
“So..” he started, “Why did you want us to meet up ?” he asked.
“Well, I feel like I owe you some explanations about the last time we saw each others” you began, receiving a nod from him signaling you to continue.
“So as you know, I was not feeling the best when I ended things between us and I did not make you come here to give any excuse for what I have done, I just want - no I need to explain why I did it. I hated feeling that way but I also hated that you had to put up with it, and I know you dealt with it amazingly and the best you could, but it hurt me to see how my mental state could affect you. I did not feel like my old self, like the Y/N you fell in love with so I pushed you away before you could do the same. I thought that doing this would avoid unnecessary damages even though I was aware it was going to hurt one of us, if not both. But I felt like I had to do it for myself, for you and for us. And I know lots of time passed by but if you still love me, or at least have a tiny bit of faith left for us, I wondered if you could give me - us - another shot.. Because I miss you and I still love you, I’ve never stopped loving you.” you finished, letting out a big breath you did not know you were holding before focusing on the face of the man who was sitting in front of you.
He was smiling, that smile, you missed that too, you missed him.
“I’ve missed you too Y/N, and I’ve never stopped loving you either. I knew you were going through a rough time and I knew it was best for you and for our relationship to give you time and space. And I am glad I did.” he confessed, putting the brightest smile that had ever been on your face.
“Now get up from that sit and come sit next to me.” he said.
He pulled your closer next to him, turned your face towards his, delicately placed your chin between his fingers before lovingly, passionately kissing you, saying all the things words could not express.
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shaisuki · 7 months
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ADDICTION
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|| the second entry for the series “𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄”
content warnings ─── bonten! sanzu, murder, talks about torture, noncon, implied kidnapping, drugs , dark themes, yandere themes
ᝰ synopsis.ᐟ when colored pills doesn't give him the high he needed, sanzu finds a new addiction, it's better than ecstasies.
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the gunshot seem to frighten you. i apologize for that. in line of my "business" it is my job to keep the empire mikey had built to flourish. these traitors are not the worth of the name bonten and those who are without use should perish.
it's also to serve a warning to you. never run away from me.
i have no intention of harming you, let alone scare you. it's only a reminder that you can never escape from me, even you run to the ends of the world, i will follow you.
shed the blood of those who dares to look at you. serve their head in a platter. cut every finger who dares to lay their hands on you. rip their limbs apart one by one and not even death could escape their fate from my hands.
why are you crying? you don't like that? silly girl. it's a punishment for them who can't understand that you belong to me. what? can you repeat that? you don't want me nor anything of this?
you got no choice. you've bewitched me. got me high of my feelings that i didn't know i was capable of doing so. you've made me addicted to the sensation of your skin in mine. your voice like bells in my ears. no drugs could make me feel like the way you do.
you're the most potent drug that i could take. intoxicating me with your light that flows in my veins and gives me euphoria reaching in my brain. you're the medicine in my pain.
sometimes you're also the cause of the aches in my body. you never really learn do you? what got you shaking? the body drops as i pull the trigger on his head. blood pooling at those empty head of this incompetent fool to never let you out of sight when i'm dealing with mikey.
this is a warning. don't test me. although, i vowed myself to never harm you—you need to be taught a lesson. nobody messes with me, no one.
ssh. don't cry. this is all your fault. you're going to take whatever i give to you. fuck! i might lose control of myself whenever those tiny whimpers leave your mouth as i pressed my lips to your heated skin. be a good girl. all i want for you is to submit to me.
tears won't work on me darling, i've seen plenty of it. from the men who for me to spare their useless lives with a gun in my hand. it would be no different to you. you're mine to begin with. i own you.
a blissful sigh escaping from my lips as i inhale your scent. such beautiful hair you have. such bounty you have for yourself and it's mine to exploit.
the straps of your nightgown falling down to your round shoulders the more my lips move to feel of your skin. this would be your life with me as i clothe you with the most luxurious clothes i can provide for you. money ain't a problem for me. i have lots of them.
your body trembles as i touch you. i won't harm you, i told you. think of this as a lesson while you think of escaping me again. there's no escape in my grasps. as much i hate to force you, this is your punishment for making me angry. if you weren't my precious little things—i would have killed you.
we won't like that don't we? stay still. it would be easy for me to take you or else it would hurt. never been a problem for me to put down people like you.
that's it. you weren't that stubborn when i'm putting you in your place. that's right. the sight of you sinking in the sheets with your hands gripping the sheet while you brace yourself for me to take you. your plump ass raised to serve me.
eyes rolling as i sink to your warm pussy. engulfing me in such warmth that got me hooked, wishing forever to be inside you and now we are as one. connected to fulfill our desires and to feed my addiction.
i hope you learned your lesson with this one or else i'll be doing it until it get through your thick skin. i won't get tired of it nor will i ever stop.
this is what addiction to you feels like. a neverending rush of euphoria.
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ddollfface · 2 months
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is it possible for you to expand on the alphabet ‘H’ for yandere!athlete? I’m just curious to see the full extent of his punishment when he ‘snaps’. You don’t have to. This is my first ask so I’m just curious
— 🐏 anon
𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
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"I'm not feeling myself today, so it's alright if I feel you instead?"
Trigger Warnings; bad writing, lovesick behavior, manipulation, toxic relationship, love bombing, reader is called 'girlfriend', fake emotional cheating (it'll make more sense later), um I think that's it, pretty tame ngl, honestly it's shorter than my usual posts sorry(( If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ You are now 🐏!Nonny! Congratulations, you now have your own tag! I hope this is up to your standards... I kind of went on a tiny, just a tiny tangent, but what's new lol
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Okay, ngl, I've been waiting for someone to ask about this, so thank you 🐏!Nonny for asking)))
Now, to the question. I would like to preface that it would be very, very, very difficult to make LoveSick!Athlete 'snap', seeing as he's a very patient person, especially with those he's close to. Growing up, he had to be patient and easygoing. He was the oldest of his siblings, so he had to be responsible; had to step up as a father figure for his younger siblings, as he never had a real dad.
He's very soft with you, always speaking kindly, and never letting his anger or annoyance get a hold of him. He wants to be the best for you, truly, but there are just some things that make people... y'know snap. Even for people like LoveSick!Athlete, who has the patience of a saint.
So, now that we know this, we have to think of a scenario of when and why you'd ever push LoveSick!Athlete over the edge; what would've you said to make him that angry?
It'd probably be something along the lines of questioning either his loyalty to you, or the caliber of his love for you, and how much he provides for you. You'd have to take away his purpose and smush it; dragging it through the mud, and spit on it. Now, that would get him going. There's one thing that LoveSick!Athlete hates, and that's someone who's ungrateful.
He's done so, so, so much for you, can't you see?
It would've started from an argument, likely you bringing up how he seems too receptive to other girls on campus, too willing with their antics. And that just didn't sit right with you. You didn't like your boyfriend, in this scenario, hanging around with girls, who you thought to be very, very, very pretty.
Of course, LoveSick!Athlete thought this to be insane, something he hadn't even thought about. Ever since the two of you started dating, he hasn't even looked at a girl, let alone thought about sleeping with one. How could you even say that?
In this scenario, I can see LoveSick!Athlete being petty and becoming flirtatious with other girls just to show you that his behavior before was nothing. If you thought that was flirtatious, then wait until you see him now. Instead of pushing the girls to the side, excusing himself before they could corner him, now he's looking the girls up and down, giving them a little smirk, leading them on. He might even set a hand on their lower back, leading them through the party, maybe even kiss her on the cheek, if you've been rather ungrateful.
Now, LoveSick!Athlete isn't enjoying this, after all, you're his one and only, but you have to learn your lesson. You have to understand that he's been so kind to you, so appreciative of your relationship. Don't you understand? He doesn't like doing this; it's a punishment.
You, seeing all of this, would obviously be distraught. You'd feel so, so, so betrayed. Where had your sweet, loving boyfriend gone? Why was he replaced by some sleazy womanizer? You'd be both sad and pissed the fuck off. You wanted him to tone it down, not multiply it by one hundred!
No matter what, even if you're angry as hell, you'll end up in LoveSick!Athlete's arms, hugging him tightly. He'll find a way to sweet talk you back to him, telling you that you're his only one, that he's just showing you that it wasn't that bad. He'll explain his public image to you; he's gotta stay on top of it, surely you understand, babe? I have no interest in those girls. They're just thinking with what's between their legs. You have to trust me.
Now, that's if you question his loyalty to you, but if you question how much he loves you (which is kinda of related to loyalty, but just ignore that), then you'll face a different type of manipulation. Mans got a whole tool belt on him (I've been waiting to say that lol).
Questioning how much he values you, your affections, your words, and your presence, will lead to love bombing. And for those who don't know what love bombing is, it's a manipulation tactic where the manipulator will use excessive affection to make their victim depend on them for love, believing that they'll only be valued by the manipulator.
LoveSick!Athlete is very familiar with this form of love since he grew up with a mama who has bipolar disorder-
(To be clear, I don't mean to say that everyone with bipolar disorder is a mass manipulator or anything. In certain people, especially mamas who are juggling an abusive marriage, two children, and postpartum all at once, it can be a lot and lead to bad behaviors. Just wanted to say that as someone who deals with a mama with bipolar disorder)
-Now, as a young adult, he's grown the habit of absentmindedly using manipulation tactics to get what he wants. It'll all start with a small argument, you'll question his lover for you, if he even cares for you. After all, he seems to be more attentive over his image than you, his girlfriend!
And all LoveSick!Athlete will do is smile at you, saying that he understands your concerns and that he'll do better. Obviously, this will confuse the hell out of you. Who responds to an argument like that? Certainly, no man you've ever dated!
Even if he doesn't realize it, he'll begin to show excessive amounts of affection after the argument. He'll constantly be giving you hugs, clinging onto you like a leach, and spamming you with messages/calls. You'll grow accustomed to the overbearing affections, allowing it to become a part of your daily life, but the moment you're used to it, he'll rip it away.
Suddenly, it's as if you don't even exist, like you're just another girl to him. Of course, he'll acknowledge you as his girlfriend, but he's no longer touching you. He's not hugging you, having an arm wrapped around you waist, nor is he holding your hand in public. It's as if he's embarrassed about your relationship. You'll begin to think that LoveSick!Athlete is cheating on you (he's not).
And this sudden behavior change is so delayed that you won't even relate it to your argument, thinking that it was a whole separate issue. And LoveSick!Athlete won't realize it either; it's just subconcious decision he made without knowing.
At some point, you'll come crawling back to him, desperately wanting the affection you used to be overwhelmed by. Of course, LoveSick!Athlete will be overjoyed, welcoming your upfront behavior with open arms. To you, this is like whiplash. Just a few days ago, he was off-putting, giving you the cold shoulder, and now he's leaning on you as if he can't stand himself, what the hell is going on?
And that's when you realize that you're not dating the most... stable individual...
Not to mention what he let his teammates do to you... but that's for another ask, yeah?
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honeylations · 11 months
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- Angry Pupu -
KIM CHAEWON x FEM!READER
Prompt: Chaewon is known for her anger issues, always yelling at the smallest things whereas you’re her calm and collected girlfriend, always so soft spoken and doing everything with a cute smile. Your members wonder how you two ended up dating despite the obvious opposite personalities.
Warnings/Notes: cute pupu, angry pupu, reader is adorable tooooo, soft and fluffy, a mix of comedy
———
“YAH WHO ATE MY MINT CHOCO ICE CREAM!”
———
“YAH WHO USED MY HAIR STRAIGHTENER? WAS IT YOU HUH YUNJIN? WHY THE FUCK DO YOU NEED A STRAIGHTENER WHEN YOU’RE NOT EVEN STRAIGHT YOURSELF!”
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“WHERE THE HELL ARE MY TAMPONS?!”
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“WHO WENT INTO MY ROOM AND TOOK MY FAVOURITE PEN?!”
———
The members lost count at the amount of times their leader had screamed today and you seemed to be the only person unbothered by it. Sakura had just finished taking pills for the headache she received from hearing the short girl’s anger.
“I swear this is her new record. How is her throat not hurting?” Sakura whined, rubbing her temple and flopping down on the couch next to you.
“How are you even dating her, Y/n?” Yunjin groans as she joins you two with a bowl of popcorn in her hand.
“Y/n is like the off switch for Chaewon’s tantrums” Kazuha appeared shortly after with a whisper, tensing when she heard Chaewon’s little feet stomp downstairs.
“WHAT DID YOU SAY ZUHA?!”
The youngest Japanese girl ran to you as a shield, angering the leader even more. “BACK OFF MY GIRLFRIEND, NAKAMURA!”
Kazuha squeaked and ran to Yunjin instead, not daring to say another word. Eunchae comes in with a bowl of strawberries and feeds you one before going upstairs to finish her Lilo and Stitch marathon. You hummed at the delicious taste of the fruit and turned to your girlfriend who got jealous of the hand feeding gesture between you and the maknae.
“We should buy more strawberries, love. They taste amazing” You spoke with a smile, Chaewon’s anger disappearing almost immediately.
She cupped your face and pecked your lips. “You’re so fricking cute. ISNT SHE GIRLS? SAY IT TO HER!”
The 3 girls sitting on the couch flinched and started complimenting you chaotically, voices going over each other, not wanting an ass beating from their short tempered leader.
“TOO MUCH COMPLIMENTS! BACK OFF!”
“Love, calm down please” You said, caressing her arm and Chaewon obeyed, sitting in your lap.
“Ok, babe”
“Whipped” Yunjin commented, earning a couch cushion to the face. “OW! God Y/n, I want you to answer my question for real this time. How the hell are you dating this monster?”
“She’s not a monster. She’s my hero~” You cooed, hugging your short girlfriend tighter.
“I’ll be needing a hero if I get screamed at one more time” Kazuha muttered, seeing Chaewon glare at her.
“Chaewon? A hero? You’re saying this girl who’s scared of a mouse toy is your hero?” Sakura scoffed as the leader flipped her off.
“You’re just jealous” Chaewon hisses.
“And you’re a comedian.”
You held your girlfriend back down on your lap before she drop kicked the eldest member.
“Chae saved me from so many people before we debuted. Her yelling may be annoying to you girls but it always reminded me of why I love her! She’s so tough~ Without her anger, she wouldn’t have saved me from the bullies back in high school. She does the same now with anyone who shares hate comments about me. I’m too shy to stand up for myself like that” You explained, your heart swelling at the memories.
“Yeahhhh. Y/n was this cute little chubby nerd in high school” Chaewon grinned, pinching your cheeks again.
“Woah wait what, okay, this was something we haven’t been told before” Yunjin said, adjusting her sitting position and looking at you, Chaewon growling.
“Oh please, pull your head out of your tiny ass Kim, I’m not gonna take your girl. I just wanna know more about this cute little chubby nerd you were just talking about” The American added.
Chaewon got off your lap and sat next to you instead, pushing Sakura further into Kazuha who was already getting squished. The younger Japanese member gave up and sat on the ground instead, snatching Yunjin’s popcorn bowl.
“Yeah it’s true. I wasn’t that good looking in high school” You shyly smiled.
“Hey don’t say that. Nobody starts off as a hottie, like, me in high school with the dark ass eyebrows that didn’t match my hair colour? Goddamn” Yunjin joked, making you all laugh. (A/N: I’m not actually talking about Yunjin like that guyssss! The whole dark eyebrow thing is something I added based on my experience in high school💀💀)
“I’m being honest, I swear! I was super chubby, wore these thick purple glasses and always got bullied for reading books all the time. See?” You pulled out a photo of you in high school and all the girls (besides Chaewon) gasped.
In the photo was 14 year old Y/n with a bob cut and thick fringe, using one hand to hold a thick novel to her chest while the other put up a peace sign. Your purple glasses were indeed huge and you smiled widely, presenting the braces you had at the time.
“Oh and here’s Chae” You zoomed out of the photo and 14 year old Chaewon was exposed. She looked the same, only difference was the long hair in the photo. Sakura squinted her eyes and noticed how Chaewon’s hand was around your waist in the picture.
“Awwww! Chae did you have a crush on Y/n at this time?” The eldest asked as you closed your phone and returned it to your pocket.
“Yeah I did. Couldn’t tell if she liked me back though”
You blushed and slapped your girlfriend’s arm. “I did! I told you before, I just thought you were too good for a nerd like me”
“Nerdy y/n is cute, don’t get me wrong, but you’re absolutely stunning right now. Hellooooo? Your body? Your abs? Your facial structure? It’s so hard to believe that was you in the picture” Kazuha complimented.
“I just finally took the initiative in eating healthier and working out” You shrugged, letting Chaewon play with your fingers.
“Was Chaewon this loud back in highschool too?” Yunjin asked with a blunt tone.
“YAH IM GONNA KILL YOU, HUH YUNJIN!” The shortest member screamed and jumped onto the tallest member, shoving the couch pillow into her face.
You rolled your eyes with a smile and looked at Sakura. “You grab her legs, I’ll grab her arms”
“Absolutely not, she kicked my face last time we did that. Get Kazuha”
The said member stood up. “Sorry I don’t speak nor understand Korean very well so imma just go” Kazuha quickly says and runs upstairs to join Eunchae.
“Stop pretending you loser!” You screamed out to Kazuha in Japanese, knowing damn well this wasn’t the first time she’s done that. (A/N: Fun fact for everyone, Kazuha sometimes pretends that she doesn’t understand what the members are saying to her in Korean😭)
You sighed and stood up, patting down your pants. “Come on, babe, let’s go to bed”
“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS PISS ME OFF WITH EVERYTHING YOU SAY!” Chaewon continued to scream while violating Yunjin with the pillow.
“Y/N HELP PLEASE!”
This was gonna be a long night.
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kidcosmonaut · 5 months
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I’m at One With the Silence — Luke Castellan x f!Reader — Part One
Description: Luke learns sign language in order to get to know you, the silent, angry daughter of Apollo. Warnings: canon-typical violence, injury Word Count: 1.2k A/N: The reader character in this fic is mute and uses ASL! Descriptions of signs will be used, but it's super duper hard to describe hand signs with text, and I'm not a fluent signer myself, so don't use this as a learning device. Also, I have no idea how many parts this will be yet. Let's say three? Four, maybe.
Part One ☆ Part Two →
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Luke wasn’t generally one to people-watch, but this was… a sight.
Your hands were balled into fists as you stormed out of Apollo’s cabin, the sound of a dozen talented singers battling for supremacy spilling out behind you. You were saying — mouthing — something, your lips moving a mile a minute. You cut through the center of camp like hellhounds were on your ass and, as you approached the edge of a hill, bent down to pick up… a pile of pebbles.
Luke watched. Maybe it was the anger in him that enjoyed the anger in you. Maybe he was just curious what your problem was, or what you meant to do with the pebbles. Maybe he liked what the sunset did to your face. He watched.
You began tossing — no, hurling — the tiny rocks at the sky. The sun, he realized; you were looking right at it, a feat only the children of Apollo could pull off without going blind. You were throwing rocks at the sun.
Not hard to figure out the meaning of that.
Your lips kept moving as you attempted this small act of violence against your father, your jaw wild as though you were shouting, and when you ran out of pebbles to throw, you’d move your hands, too, as though by sweeping them wider, you could sign louder. And then you’d dip down again, scoop up more, and repeat.
If Apollo cared at all, if he even noticed his daughter’s rage, he didn’t show it. The sun kept setting, and no one came.
The gods were deaf to their children. Luke knew that better than anyone.
He kept watching, even as you tired of throwing rocks at gods and shuffled off — still away from your cabin, he noted. Not tired enough to go back there.
He didn’t know why you were angry.
Oh, he could guess. It couldn’t have been easy, the fall from grace; going from your father’s favorite child — the gods all picked favorites, it was only the less honest ones who pretended that wasn’t true — to just another in the pile mustn’t have felt good, especially for you, the demigod who gave everything.
But was that it? Was that why you hated your father? Because Hades had silenced you?
Your voice had been beautiful, for whatever ‘had been’ was worth. Luke had only heard you sing once before it was ripped from you, but he remembered being mesmerized.
You were fourteen then, too. It was your second — maybe third, he wasn’t sure, he didn’t know you personally — summer at Camp Halfblood, and his first. He’d been shy, not that anyone remembered that now, and he hadn’t spoken to much of anyone other than those who slept in Hermes cabin, let alone pretty girls with older, meaner boyfriends. But he’d been dragged to a bonfire party by an older brother of his, and you were there, with your guitar and your sunbeam smile.
Luke had never liked old music. His mother had all these dusty records that she’d put on and dance to like they were the only things that made sense, but they never made sense to him. If the lyrics had meaning, he didn’t get them, or at least couldn’t relate, not like the nu metal he’d ripped onto his mp3 player.
But you were singing something that night, a Prince song he’d heard before, and on your lips, the words made sense. They were beautiful, even.
He could still see it, the light flickering across your face, your fingers moving fast as light against the strings. You were talented with your guitar, too, though he hadn’t caught sight or sound of the thing since the quest that took your voice, either. The way you played reminded him of the mariachi bands he’d seen on the New York subways — hard to believe a person could pluck so fast.
And you sang. He could still hear it, too — When Doves Cry. It was different, of course, acoustic and melancholy, but the song was the same.
He must have been staring. You must have noticed.
You were coming towards him. He didn’t think anything of it at first; you twirled, you danced, you walked.
“Touch, if you will, my stomach. Feel how it trembles inside.”
And then you were in front of him, so close, and looking him in the eye, and his breath caught. You seemed to almost smirk at that.
“You’ve got the butterflies all tied up. Don’t make me chase you,” you sang, to him. “Even doves have pride.”
And then you turned away from him, like it had been a blip, like you had never been looking at him at all. You danced on.
“How could you just leave me standin’, alone in a world that’s so cold? Maybe I’m just too demandin’—” you grinned there, head turned up to the sky— “maybe I’m just like my father, too bold.”
And then your eyes changed, cast out to the lake, like your mind was elsewhere. “Maybe I’m just like my mother, she’s never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cry.”
The next day, you embarked on your quest. You did well, too — returned a week and a half later with the item you were sent to steal back from Hades. Hades the place, it turned out, but not the god himself; it was Persephone who had stolen one of your father's precious sunbeams. She'd missed the sunlight in her months down below, she told you, and took it to keep herself warm. An understandable desire, certainly, but it'd lead to snow in the Sahara and summer blizzards in Boston. She gave it back over without a fight, but her husband hadn't smiled upon you sneaking into his domain.
If it weren’t for one of his furies catching you just outside the barrier and digging its claws into your throat, they’d have marked it down as a flawless victory.
The staff managed to save your life, but not your vocal chords. When summer came to an end, they said they commended you for your sacrifice, as though you’d had a choice.
Maybe it really wasn’t that big a deal; half the kids in camp were willing to die in service of the gods, and given that you’d collected more quests than beads, you were probably in that number. But then, dying is different than surviving with a disability. Not worse, but different. What kid actually considers the limb when they’re risking life and limb? What risks would one take if they had to live with the consequences?
Worse yet, as far as he could tell, your daddy never called you back afterwards. No ‘thank you’s for the maimed daughter, no more gifts. Insult to injury, used and discarded.
He’d throw rocks at the guy, too.
Which brought him back to that moment, alone in the settling darkness. You were gone by then, off somewhere, likely pushing your anger aside for something you considered more productive, though Luke couldn’t begin to guess what that would be. He didn’t know you, still.
He might like to, though. Perhaps the two of you could be… allies. That thing inside him that burned, that he hid… he could, potentially, share it with someone who felt the same.
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grapejuicestyless · 1 month
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In My DNA
JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Summery: Y/n and JJ have been seeing each other for months, but when it all ends, JJ is left to deal with the consequences of his actions.
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“Just because I don’t love you in the way you want me to, doesn’t mean I love you any less.” My heart pounded in my ears, the sound of crushing aluminum and dry grass crunching underneath my shoes as I followed her across the front lawn.
“JJ, stop.” She puts her hand behind her, trying to plead for me to stop following. Our chase makes a scene, even if we are alone in the open morning breeze. But the feeling of eyes looking at us makes me aware of the curious gazes of our nosy friends, with their palms pressed against the window to watch.
“No, no, I won’t stop until you tell me what I’ve done wrong!” I try to stay calm, her shaky voice already setting off my bubbling anger. I am an angry person, I have so much to be mad at the world for. Though I do not show it frequently, I find myself ticked off by the tiny things until it breaks the surface and the pent up frustration turns into bloodthirsty hate.
Y/n is a sensitive person, she has so much empathy that sometimes I worry she’ll end up destroying herself with it. She doesn’t cry often, but her mouth twitches and her eyes squint in ways that give away her emotions to any given situation, the way her lips tremble or her voice cracks gives her facade away. Shes a good person, a kind girl and a great friend. She’s far too good for me, and that’s something I’m still trying to accept. Those are just the card’s I was dealt, it’s the game I have to play.
She huffs, walking away further until the grass turns to dirt road overgrown with weeds and littered with pebbles that crunch underneath speeding tires.
“Y/n, stop!” My hand grabs her wrist, yanking her back to my body, the thump of my chest hitting her shoulder blades echoing between our bodies, leaving us breathless for a passing moment.
“What do you want from me, JJ?” She spins to look at me, really look at me. Her eyes are filled with something just short of hate and her mouth is wobbling like a child’s. She’s got this kicked puppy dog look about her that makes my heart ache, and I just can’t place why.
“I wanna talk!” I hope she can read the confusion on my face, because her sudden shortness with me after all of our peace together puzzles me. I’ve only now just realized I can’t exactly read her as well as she can read me.
“Then talk!” She shouts, pushing off of my chest but stepping forward again just so we can be nose to nose.
“Why are you so angry?”
“Why are you such a dick!” She pushes away again, spinning on her heals and rushing across the dirt path to where it becomes thick rock mixed with broken cement.
“Would you just stop!” I don’t mean to yell, not at anyone and especially not at her. I want to know why she’s so upset, not make her more worked up. I need to fix this, whatever this is.
“Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to yell.” My calloused hands cup her arms, working her around until she faces me again. She doesn’t fight my touch, letting the warmth of my palms cover her upper arms and squeeze over the soft skin.
“Please, tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it. I can’t think of anything that I’ve done to make you so angry!” Leaning forward, I try to press my forehead to hers, to breathe in the sweet smell of her perfume, get a taste of the fleeting memory of her.
She’s the closest thing to heaven, god sent, my angel. I can’t even think why she would be mad at me, not when I haven’t done anything to her.
“That’s the problem, Jay. You haven’t done anything.” She cries out desperately, trying to make me understand what she’s saying. The look in her eyes tells me she feels betrayed but I just can’t place a finger on it, so she’ll explain it for me.
“I gave you everything I had to offer and you promised me it was enough, but you keep taking things from me and I have nothing left to give.”
Oh.
Y/n is my best friend, the sweetest girl on the cut. A mind beyond her years and a heart so full and feeling, it’s hard to not love her. But poor sweet Y/n, too innocent for the cruelty of the world came knocking on my window for help. Big eyes and swollen lips, too nervous to ask anyone else for help.
I tell her over the course of a few months that I’ll help her, teach her all she needs to know. I steal her firsts out of my own greed, take them at her own pace and promise it’ll always be enough. Until I take the final things from her and she has nothing left to give up. I have nothing else to gain, and neither does she.
But I guess when hooking up with someone as soft and sweet as Y/n, I forgot just how delicate things can get, how mean it can be to just leave them.
“You are enough, nothing will change that.” I can keep telling her this, but to her theres no convincing and in some ways she smart for it, for never being naive. How can you trust someone who just up and leaves when something good becomes something they depend on? She would never know how dependent I was on her, of course, because I would never tell her how long after the night was over, when she was asleep with her cheek pressed against my chest I would stay awake a little longer just so I could keep playing with her hair or admire her face. She wouldn’t know because I’d never tell her.
“You made me feel dirty.” She says it so quietly, but her voice shakes nonetheless. Pointing fingers into my chest and backing me out into the dusty path more and more, spilling tears silently and letting them turn the dust into mud.
“I gave you what you wanted!” I try to argue, but we both know my words are meaningless. We both knew what she wanted, what we wanted, but if I play dumb maybe she’ll be less hurt by it.
“No, I gave you what you wanted! You couldn’t give me mine even if the world depended on it!” She only says these things because I’ve hurt her. I recognize that her feelings are valid, that by spending my evenings dedicated to her and then up and leaving so suddenly I’ve left an impression of greed on her. I’ve taken what she could offer and left her with nothing.
“Just because I don’t love you in the way you want me to, doesn’t mean I love you any less.” I try to paint the words into her mind, let her know that I do love her, I always will, but I have to remind her who I am. Beyond the surface, I’m still a Maybank. The thought of having her and losing her just like my loved ones before me drives me crazy even just thinking about it, so I can’t let myself act on how I feel for her, because it would never be fair.
“And just because you love me doesn’t mean I feel loved by you.” When she leaves, it’s quietly, soft sniffles and heaving breaths fading into the morning sun. I feel the watchful eyes of our friends observing us like hawks, and the hateful eyes of the majority boring a hole into my head. If it wasn’t known before, it is now.
JJ Maybank, the pogue who broke the rules and paid the price for his selfishness. But really, who didn’t see this coming? It’s who I am, it’s in my DNA.
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the-little-ewok · 9 months
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Tempest
Marc Spector x G/N Reader (small suggestion of Steven Grant X G/N Reader)
Rating : M (for mild spice)
Wordcount : 1400 (ish)
Warnings : Nightmares, lil bit angsty, fluffy, tiny bit of spice towards the end.
Prompt / Summary Lips barely touching, Kissing to shut them up , Kissing each other breathless / The rain always gives Marc nightmares. But luckily he has you to sit up with him.
A/N : To the anon who sent me the prompt, I hope you like it!
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The rain always makes Marc's nightmares worse, so it comes as no surprise when he starts to stir in his sleep.
At first, he just tosses his head, then it's followed by mumbles and moans, before he thrashes, yelling names he refuses to talk about.
You wish you could stop it, you wish you could find a way to help him through, but you've found the best way to help him is just to be there for him when he wakes. Waking him up always seemed to shock him more, so all you can do is wait it out.
Thankfully, you tend to be awake before he startles you out of sleep, your subconscious now tuned into the slightest patter of rain against the window panes.
So when he bolts upright, eyes wide, sweat shining on his skin, you've already been awake for a while.
"Breathe Marc, it's okay, you're at home, in London." You press a hand against his chest, feeling the hammering of his heart under your fingers, as he takes shuddering breaths.
For a moment he looks at you as though he has no idea who you are, where he is, or what's happened. Before he finally blinks and your Marc stares at you, wide eyed.
"It's okay, it's okay," you repeat softly. "Just take a couple of deep breaths."
He does as you ask, taking a few slow, deep breaths as he gathers his thoughts. You sit quietly with him, giving him as much time as he needs, your hand resting lightly against his chest, silent and patient.
You don't tell him it's just a nightmare, because you honestly arn't sure that's all it is anymore.
"Sorry. Fuck, sorry," he grits out eventually, shaking his head, angry at himself for getting into this state again.
"Do you want to talk -"
"No." He cuts off your question before you have a chance to finish it. You aren't surprised by his reaction. You've long since learnt that Marc would rather forget what haunts him, put it to the back of his mind and pretend it doesn't exist.
You've tried, so many times, to explain to him that he shouldn't feel guilty, that there's nothing to be afraid of, that he's worthy of living a life he enjoys, that whatever happened in his past, didn't dictate his future. You know Steven and Jake have tried as well. But it's no good, Marc is stubborn, and you've learnt to accept that's just who he is. After all, his stubbornness was just one of many reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.
"I'm sorry I woke you up again," Marc sighs, interrupting your thoughts, taking your hand from his chest in order to wrap his fingers around yours.
"You didn't, I was already awake. The rain woke me up," you smile, brushing his sleep tousled hair back. It's not entirely a lie, and you are glad when Marc relaxes into your touch, turning his head to place a soft kiss on your palm as you cup his cheek, not arguing with you about whose fault it is that you are awake.
"Let me go get you a glass of water," you press a soft quick chaste kiss to his lips.
Marc frowns in response, hating being taken care of. "I can do that myself."
"I know, but I like doing things for you sometimes." You give him a small smile, squeeze his hand and get to your feet, and head to the kitchen.
Not to be deterred from giving you reasons not to take care of him, Marc follows you.
"Yeah, and I hate that you have to do things for me."
"I don't have to. I like to. I know you are perfectly capable of getting yourself water, Marc," you laugh, glancing over at him as he glowers sullenly.
Rolling your eyes at his reaction you take two glasses out of the cupboard and fill them with water.
Marc leans on the counter next to you, taking the glass when you offer it, but ignoring the contents.
"What I would like, is for you to have a full night's sleep, instead of having to deal with me every time there's the slightest storm. I mean, we live in England for fucks sake, it rains 12 months of the year-"
"That's not true and you know it," you interrupt but he's not listening, continuing as though he hasn't heard you.
"...and God forbid I bring up moving to Steven again. I mean, I know I was the one that brought us here, and that's on me. And I know-"
"Are we really having this discussion again?" You sigh softly, but he's still going, ignoring you as he continues to ramble, getting increasingly more animated as he does.
When his rant gets more and more self deprecating, you decide to stop him.
"Marc," you state firmly, stepping over to him and taking his face in your hands, "shut up."
You press your lips to his. For a split second, as he catches up with the situation, he continues to talk against your lips, but then finally he quietens, his shoulders dropping as he sinks into your kiss, unable to stop himself.
The kiss is sweet, tender and gentle. It isn't a lead to anything but Marc still makes it last as long as possible, kissing you until you're breathless, until you're dizzy from the lack of air, until all that remains of the world is the two of you.
When you finally pull apart, heavily breathing, cheeks warm and heart thumping, he lets out a long sigh.
"I really don't deserve you," he mumbles quietly, allowing his lips to barely brush against yours, as though he doesn't feel he deserves to kiss you again, but he can't fully stop himself. The worst is the knowledge that he really believes that.
You hold him a little tighter against you.
"Tough. You're stuck with me," you inform him, your tone leaving no space for argument, unwilling to get into a discussion about his worth to you, at this time of night.
Marc lifts his head and gives you a small smile. He looks tired in the dim lighting of the apartment, the bags under his eyes dark as bruises, caused by the continuing lack of sleep.
"Do you want to go back to bed yet?" You ask softly, as he continues to look at you, his eyes flickering over your face. You can almost hear the cogs in his brain turning. You only hope this time they are turning to good thoughts.
"Probably not a good idea right now." He jerks his head to the window, still rattling with the noise of rain lashing against the pane. You hum in agreement, noting his lips tilting up in a familiar smile, his gaze soft, but hungry.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach.
Marc's arms wind around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest.
"Want to stay up with me?"
"I have work tomorrow," you warn, although you already know there's no way Marc is going to let you go back to bed either way.
"Call in sick,"
You laugh and shake your head, already running through the list of excuses you've used, in order to spend your time with them. There were only so many times you could say you had a stomach bug, or your goldfish was ill.
"What with this time?"
"Tell them," he pauses, holding your body close against him, his hot breath fanning across your skin, pressing a solitary kiss to your neck, "your legs are still trembling from tonight."
The butterflies turn into a full flock of birds.
He captures your lips in a hard kiss, his tongue lapping into your mouth, insistent, demanding, possessive. Marc needs to lose himself in you, and you are more than willing to oblige.
Without ever removing his mouth from yours, he backs you up, step by step, until the back of your legs hit something hard.
The edge of the desk digs almost painfully into your thighs, but you can't seem to find the will to care as Marc's tongue continues to snake between your teeth, devouring you.
Marc suddenly pulls away, giving a huff of breathless laughter.
"What is it?" You ask, slightly dazedly.
"Steven says 'not on his desk'." He barely stops himself from rolling his eyes.
Normally you would suggest you move elsewhere, not wanting to upset any of them, but now you're here, there's a delicious excitement to the offence.
"And what do you say?" You subtly try to move some of Stevens's favourite books out of the way, nudging them to the side of the desk
Marc grins, his eyes flicking down to the movement of your hands before back up to meet your gaze, clearly seeing your blatant invitation.
"I say it's our desk, and I can do whatever, and whoever, I want on it."
You'll apologise to Steven later, help him pick up the books that fall to the floor, soothe any annoyance he has left one way or another, but for now, you allow Marc to drown out the noise of the rain, with the sounds he draws from you.
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its-time-to-write · 8 months
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i know now it’ll pass - ch. 5
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I think these last two chapters are my favorite🥲 Lmk with you all think of the series bc I crave validation!!! No such thing as too many comments🥺🥺
still miss you
It’s the worst. You’re working in Manchester of all places, and you really wish that you were somewhere else. But they paid the most and offered housing and were able to hire you within two and a half weeks of your breakup. Higgins wrote a glowing letter of recommendation, and just like that, you were gone. 
You’re going to miss your flat, you realize. You don’t even know who bought it. Doesn’t matter. They were willing to pay twice what it was worth as long as they were the offer you accepted.
It’s good that Jamie won’t see you around. Won’t have any lingering reminders. It’s good that you’re the one who ended things, because he won’t be able to blame himself for it. (He probably still will, you think, but you put that thought in a tiny box and put it on a shelf far away.) 
Jamie doesn’t see you, but you see him. You see him in photos on the wall and hear him in the local voices and wish you could have just accepted his love for a little while longer.
You watch every single one of his games and cheer when he makes a goal. Or a pass. Or anything, really. He’s started running like Roy Kent did at Chelsea, like he’s angry at the grass. At least his anger is channeled into something productive.
Your new flat faces the sun, and you’re on the steps all the time. It’s not standard housing, it’s a real actual flat that Man City bought for you. It’s not big but it’s clean and yours and has a real, actual garden in the back. You think that you can manage this until you meet your neighbors and realize you’re really and truly fucked and the universe hates you.
You met the husband, Simon, on one of your sleepless nights. It was still relatively early, just 1:30, but you could tell that you weren’t going to get much sleep. Dr. Sharon transferred you to someone in Manchester, but now you were awake for different reasons. Jamie’s face kept haunting you so you kept your eyes wide open. Some mornings you’d wake up under the weighted blanket and think that it was him, in your groggy haze. Then you’d blink a couple times and remember that you’d broken up.
So you don’t sleep much. And now you’re on the porch with a cup of the tea Jamie’s mum recommended so long ago, the strong smell steaming into the air. As you sit down on your chair (you have a chair now) you hear a soft voice say, “Lovely night, isn’t it?” You nod and look over to see your neighbor sitting on his chair as well on the lawn. 
“Sometimes I like to come out here and look at the stars,” he continues. “Can’t always see very many of them, but the fresh air is nice. I’m Simon, by the way.”
You nod again, give him your name, and sip your tea.
“Is that Sleep Plus by Twinings?” he asks. “I only ask because my wife swears by it. Has a cuppa every single night, so I’m well-acquainted with the smell.”
You smile. “Yeah, it is. A friend gave it to me. Said his mum loved it too. I have trouble sleeping, so…”
Simon nods. “Georgie, that’s my wife, used to have the same problem. Too many things on her mind, she said. But she’s been alright ever since we’ve been married. She says that it wasn’t really a chemical problem in her brain, but more the fact that she was always worried. Took me years to show her I wasn’t someone she needed to be worried around. But, I proved myself and here we are.” He chuckles fondly. “She’s upstairs snoring loud as can be.”
You sit in silence a while longer before Simon gets up and says, “Lovely to meet you. I’ll have Georgie invite you ‘round for tea sometime.”
Tea with your neighbors sounds wonderful until you walk into their flat and see pictures of Georgie’s son on the walls and on tables and on the fridge and in basically every possible space she can find. Simon mentions how he researched creative things to do with photographs because it “helps Georgie when she misses him,” and you know for an absolute fact that the universe has a personal hatred for you.
It has to, because why else would you have unwittingly gotten a flat right next to Jamie’s parents?
You force yourself to behave as normally as possible and thank them for a lovely meal. Georgie grabs your arm on the way out and says you ought to come over again some time. She hugs you and tells you she didn’t have a sparkle in her eyes at your age, either. She knows what it’s like and maybe you can have tea together tomorrow night, just the two of you. Talk about it and maybe you don’t have to struggle as much as she did.
You don’t smile at her, but she doesn’t mind. Georgie reaches out a hand to wipe away a tear and says, “Oh love. It’ll be alright. You’re not alone all the way out here. I miss my son something terrible and I can see you’re missing someone too. You’ve already made me feel better and I hope I can help you the way you’ve helped me. Good to have someone young around here.”
She’s smiling, and you realize she and Jamie have the same soft eyes.
Georgie hugs you tight again before you can bolt out the door. “You’re not alone, sweetheart,” she whispers. “You’ll be alright.”
Simon and Georgie are a godsend. Sure, you have to suffer their son staring down at you from his various portraits in the house, but you can talk to them. They’re like parents with the way Georgie hugs you and Simon is always bringing over excess baked goods. They’re always available to talk and listen, to laugh and sometimes, to cry.
Georgie tells you about her ex-husband one nights and it’s enough to make you sob. You tell her about your ex-boyfriend (the bad one) through gasps while she rubs your back and murmurs, “I’m right here, love.”
“How were you able to be with Simon?” you ask once you’ve calmed down. “I just can’t understand that. I’ve tried, I really have, but I was just waiting for him to get tired of me. And I’m not positive he ever would have.”
Georgie thinks for a moment. “I think I finally realized that James was not the standard for all men. He and Simon were very different, and Simon always showed me he respected me as a person. It took years of that, but here we are.” She laughs. “He’s a very patient man. Not many would put up with me and my Jamie.”
Jamie was patient. And funny. And the exact opposite of your ex. He’s confident with a touch of arrogance, but it’s the kind of confidence that’s contagious as opposed to oppressive. He’s sweet and thoughtful, and does things without expecting something in return. He likes to make you smile just for the sake of it, and you like to do the same.
You’re shaken from your reverie by Georgie saying, “That reminds me, Jamie’s coming into town this weekend. You should come over to meet him.”
She and Simon share a not-so-subtle glance that means you should date our son and become our actual daughter-in-law because you’re basically already ours, and that’s when you decide you’re going to be horribly ill.
“I’d love to,” you say out loud. “I’ll check my calendar.”
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