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#but i just wanted to get started with the one at least
cherienymphe · 2 days
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You Get Me So High
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JJ Maybank x Reader
Warnings: DUB-CON, STEPCEST, loss of virginity, toxic relationship (JJ's kind of an asshole), jealousy, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, brief Rafe x reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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summary: To everyone else, JJ is just being an overprotective brother. To you, he's being a possessive asshole.
You crossed your arms over your chest, watching with a scowl as Kie entertained some guy you’d seen throw a smile her way earlier. You were leaning against a tree, acting as more of an observer than an actual participant as the music from someone’s speaker reached your ears. The tanned girl looked like she was having fun. If only you could relate…
You took a swig of beer, swallowing down your bitterness with it.
The last guy you’d been talking to had been effectively scared off, his eyes widening slightly when a familiar arm snaked its way over your shoulder. You hadn’t needed to lift your gaze to confirm who it was, the sudden nervous fidget from the guy before you told you all you needed to know. Before the familiar blond had even managed to say anything, you’d let out a small sigh, disappointment weighing you down already.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Never mind the fact that he was overstepping into your personal life, but he had to be rude about it too.
The cute brunette had stuttered, face reddening at JJ’s words. Your heart sank at the sight, gaze pleading when his eyes met yours again, but by the look on his face, you could tell that this was one argument he didn’t think was worth it. Watching him mutter an apology before stumbling away, you didn’t know what you hated more—JJ’s behavior or every guy’s lack of balls to stand up to him.
“He’s an asshole, trust me,” was all JJ had said when you gave him an even look.
Without sparing him a word nor another glance, you’d stomped away in search of something to drink.
That was how you found yourself isolated from everyone else, watching your friends have fun—namely Kie—while you were reduced to standing in the corner. You didn’t see the point, to be honest. If you got too ‘wild’ JJ would come along trying to shield you from interested eyes, and if you dared to attempt a conversation with any guy, he’d come along telling them to get lost.
To anyone else he was an overprotective brother.
You knew better though.
“You’re so dramatic,” a familiar voice drawled, and you didn’t bother to even turn your head.
Taking another sip of your drink, you pursed your lips.
“How so?” you quietly wondered.
You felt his fingers graze your jaw, and you hated the way your lashes fluttered.
Hidden away in the dark, the two of you weren’t so visible, and you suspected that was the reason for his boldness. His fingers danced towards your neck, and your heart skipped a beat when one dipped beneath the collar of your shirt, grazing a mark you both knew was there. It made you shudder, and at that you slapped his hand away.
The blond sighed.
“I didn’t want you getting caught up with that guy,” he said. “I didn’t tell you to stop having fun.”
“You might as well have,” you snapped. “You always do.”
“…because your version of fun is shaking your ass against guys who wanna fuck you.”
“At least someone does,” you muttered into your cup.
JJ heard it loud and clear though despite the music and low volume of your voice. You could feel his gaze boring a hole into the side of your face, and you refused to look at him. You finished your drink, starting to toss it on the ground before thinking better of it. Kie would have your head.
“Don’t,” JJ finally said.
You swiveled your head towards him.
“Don’t what?” you wondered with a shrug, face even despite the fire you knew was in your eyes. “Don’t wonder why you don’t want to fuck me but don’t want anyone else to either?”
You watched him press his lips together at that, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glanced around. You hated the way he wouldn’t look at you now, so bold a moment ago. Eventually you rolled your eyes, softly scoffing to yourself before pushing past him.
You didn’t spare JJ another thought as you threw your cup away, finding John B. and asking him when he planned on leaving. You all were staying over at The Chateau, and you shouldn’t have been shocked to know he was going to leave when everyone else wanted to. Annoyed with JJ more than usual, you chose to take your chances and walk back.
You didn’t tell anyone.
It was summer, but the ocean breeze cooled the night air, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing you’d at least had the sense to steal JJ’s jacket. Thoughts of the blond made you frown, and a sour feeling twisted deep within your gut. You longed for the days where your fights were just normal sibling bullshit—being accused of stealing his shirts and eating all of his chips and blaming the missing beer on each other.
Now, your fights were so far from normal sibling bullshit.
Your heart stuttered at the memory of his lips on yours, an impulsive decision after getting high in his bedroom one night. When he hadn’t pushed you away, you hadn’t known what to do, never expecting yourself to get so far. You were even more stumped when he kissed you back, his hand resting on your neck while the other dug into your waist.
You didn’t know why you hadn’t expected it.
Mixed in with those fights about clothes and food and getting on each other’s nerves were also moments that weren’t known by anyone but you. JJ had always been touchy, but the nights in which he’d brush your waist instead of your shoulder left you restless. Sometimes when Pope would say something especially silly, the blond would throw you a look that had you giggling.
…but then it would linger, and you’d feel heat cling to your cheeks, and you’d swear that he ran his eyes over you in a way a brother shouldn’t. When no one else was around, he’d pull you into his lap and rest his face against your neck and rub circles into the small of your back. Despite how much you laid awake at night thinking on these interactions, you told yourself you were imagining things.
Sure, JJ wasn’t your brother by blood, but that shouldn’t have mattered.
Your parents were married, and that made you siblings, and in the eyes of the law—and society—that made anything between you wrong…and illegal. With that being said, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from overanalyzing every exchange, trying and failing to convince yourself that you guys were just close. That’s all.
…but with your parents out and a blunt being passed between you, you hadn’t been able to stop your brain from fixating on it. Ignoring the way the walls pulsed, you’d traced the even rise and fall of his chest. You’d watched his long fingers take the blunt, the low light glinting off of his rings, and you’d watched him bring it up to his pink lips. His hair had seemed messier that night, eyes bluer, and before you knew it…
You kissed him.
You and JJ kissed for what felt like hours, pawing at each other and dragging your lips against each other’s skin. You’d taken a few hits in between, and after some time, you’d just laid there…staring at each other and gently reaching out to each other and occasionally kissing some more. His dad had been God knows where, and your mom had been working, and when you woke up…
JJ pretended like nothing had happened.
That was how it always went ever since.
Sometimes you were high, sometimes sober, and you’d find yourselves wrapped up in each other. Kissing and biting at skin and pulling at fabric. You’d spend hours touching each other, leaving marks that only you two would know the origin of, and when things started to get out of hand, JJ would pull away, convincing you to do the same. The next day—sometimes even just hours later—it was like nothing ever happened.
You watched him disappear with countless girls at parties and said nothing. Days where you’d be with Kie and run into him and some unknown girl, you’d say nothing. When your eyes would zero in on a mark you know you didn’t leave, you’d say nothing. You bit your tongue, because you got it. You and JJ couldn’t actually be anything, not for real anyway, and even if you chose to be something in secret, you hadn’t decided that yet.
So, you understood it.
What you didn’t understand though was the way his presence descended over you like a dark cloud anytime you so much as laughed with another man. If one even approached you, here he’d come playing the protective brother role so well. John B. and Pope found it admirable, and Kie may not have agreed, but she understood. JJ was just being a good brother.
Only you knew it was because he didn’t want to chance anyone else fucking you.
“Are you crazy?”
That familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you cursed yourself for being so wrapped up in your mind to not even hear the approach of a familiar vehicle. Huffing, you turned to roll your eyes at JJ as John B. slowed down. The blond was leaning out of the passenger window, but when John B. stopped, he completely hopped out.
He didn’t look happy.
“Are you deaf? You didn’t see me calling you?”
You hadn’t actually—your phone on silent—and that was what you told him.
“That’s a great volume for it to be at,” he sarcastically replied.
His hand was firm on your back as he pushed you towards the van, climbing into the back behind you as Pope took his place in the passenger seat. You sat as far away from JJ as possible—next to Kie—and you were more than eager to ignore the blond and involve yourself in the conversation they’d been having before spotting you. You could feel your brother’s gaze on you the entire time, and you didn’t spare him a glance.
“He just worries about you,” Kie quietly told you later when JJ was wrapped up in some debate with the two up front. “I don’t agree with how crazy he gets, but if I had a sibling, I don’t think I’d be too much better.”
You bit your tongue, fighting back a bitter smirk. How could you tell Kie that JJ’s ‘worry’ had nothing to do with genuine concern? How could you tell her that under the cover of darkness he’d kiss you and taste you and curl his fingers inside of you, but refused to go beyond that all the while preventing you from going beyond that with anyone else? How could you tell her that so much of your fighting lately was because he wanted to keep you at arms’ length while refusing to give you up?
JJ was a selfish asshole.
You were out of the van almost as soon as John B. parked, and you were searching for a t-shirt you knew you’d left over when the rest of them finally joined you. You could hear Kie searching for something to drink, and when Pope turned to you—a question on his tongue—you shook your head.
“No, I’m…I’m going to sleep in the van,” you exhaled, feeling emotionally drained. “I’m kind of tired.”
They tried to convince you of otherwise, but you waved them off. You could feel JJ’s eyes on you, and you only threw him a dirty look as you left. You felt a tad better after getting undressed, and you heaved a sigh after pulling the tee over your head. With a grimace, you realized it was JJ’s, and you both loved and hated that it still smelled like him.
Staring up at the roof of the Twinkie, you thought to yourself that this couldn’t go on forever. JJ couldn’t keep messing with your heart and your head, and realistically, you knew that if you wanted something of a life and normal experiences, you might have to distance yourself from your friends entirely. You couldn’t even talk to a boy with JJ around, let alone form healthy attachments that didn’t involve your own brother.
It's like he was keeping you in his back pocket, and you didn’t like it.
You were drifting in and out of sleep when you heard the van door open, and you weren’t concerned by your lack of alarm. You surmised it was one of the gang, but somehow you hadn’t anticipated that it’d be JJ. When his voice reached your ears, you were suddenly much more awake, and you leaned back on your elbows with a frown, watching him climb in and close the door behind him.
“No,” you snapped, fully sitting up, now. “This is my spot, and I don’t know what excuse you gave everyone else, but it was a waste because I don’t want you here.”
He ran his hand through his hair, fixing you with an even look that made you roll your eyes.
“I’m not here for that…”
“Sure,” you mumbled, pushing your back against the wall and crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m not,” he firmly repeated. “Look, you’re mad at me and… I don’t like going to bed with us pissed at each other.”
“…and yet you do everything in your power to make that happen.”
“Y/N.”
“You’re such an asshole,” you finally hissed at him, tears kissing your eyes. “I can’t say shit when you’re off fucking God knows who, but if I so much as blink at another guy, here you come.”
JJ at least had the sense to look ashamed, his gaze lowering.
“You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else-.”
“I do want you,” he harshly whispered. “You have to know that by now, but I…”
You watched him take a deep breath, eyes troubled, and you pulled your knees to your chest. You didn’t move when the blond reached for you, the tips of his fingers grazing your leg, and you hated the way it made your heart race. When his gaze met yours again, you swallowed, finding it difficult. He ran those blue eyes over you, and the look in them was wholly familiar.
“I’m supposed to protect you,” he whispered in the small space. “When our parents got married, I thought ‘hey’. I have a sister now, and I need to look out for her and protect her from assholes who’ll try to get in her pants.”
JJ sighed, and it sounded frustrated.
“…and now I’m one of those assholes.”
You glanced away, frowning.
“…but I want this just as much as you, so who cares?”
“…and little kids want candy all day every day.”
“You do not know better than me, JJ Maybank! God, you would swear that you’re soo much older than me by how you talk down to me sometimes, but we’re one year apart, you ass!”
He had moved closer, now, a deep frown on his own face.
“We can’t be anything.”
It looked like it took him a lot to say that, and you looked between his eyes, chest aching at his words. They were true, but that didn’t mean they hurt or stung any less. With a deep breath, you blinked, jaw clenching.
“Fine,” you whispered. “Then stop kissing me.”
You watched his face fall at that, and you raised a brow at him.
“Stop touching me, stop sneaking around with me and crawling into my bed almost every night, JJ. Stop…stopping me from living a life I can actually experience in public.”
He didn’t like the sound of that, and when he turned away, you bitterly nodded.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You got close to him, tone haughty.
“You keep yourself from fucking me out of some sense of morality and integrity or whatever, but not only is the damage practically already done, you’re making it worse by doing the very thing you won’t let me do,” you choked out. “When you want me, you can find some girl to distract yourself with, but all I have is you.”
You moved away, grabbing your blanket and preparing to lie back down.
“How is that fair?” you muttered.
He didn’t respond, and you turned your back to him, staring at the inside of the van and just wanting him to leave. He laid down with you instead, and beyond annoyed and saddened by the conversation, you didn’t have the energy to tell him to get out.
You forced yourself to find sleep with your back to him.
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You could taste blood on your tongue, but despite this, you couldn’t allow yourself to release your lip from the pressure of your teeth. JJ’s lips were pressed to your throat, leaving open mouthed kisses, his breathing heavy and uneven. Your own chest was heaving, and your hand was wrapped around his wrist. You liked the feel of it moving in your grip every time he thrust his fingers into you.
Your thighs were spread wide, JJ standing between them, and you could faintly hear the splashes of your friends goofing around in the water. You tried to be mindful of that, knowing that any moment now your prolonged absences would be noticed and investigated. You almost wanted to curse JJ for following you down here, but with his fingers curling inside of you, it was hard to remember why this predicament was bad.
Turning his head, he captured your lips in a kiss, and you were hungry in kissing him back. He tasted the inside of your mouth as his fingers stretched you out, wrist snapping between your thighs and making your toes curl. You knew that you’d have to jump in the water the very second you went back above deck, afraid to see what kind of mess you were making—the mess JJ was currently contributing to.
You hadn’t even realized he’d followed you until you’d turned to go back after grabbing your snorkeling mask. You personally hadn’t thought anything of John B.’s comment on your bathing suit, not unfamiliar with the casual flirtation from both him and Pope. It meant nothing, both of them remaining consistent in that behavior with Kie as well—something even JJ was guilty of.
So, you didn’t know why it’d set him off today of all days.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t touched you in weeks. Between locking your door at night and skipping out on outings and just all-around distancing yourself more, JJ hadn’t even had any opportunities to get you alone. He talked a big game about wanting to do right by you, but at the end of the day, you knew that it’d be up to you to really put in some effort to ending this.
…and it was a good effort, but JJ was just more daring than you’d anticipated.
Cornering you and fingering you below deck of the boat with all of your friends just outside was something that you would’ve put even past him. It was too risky and stupid and had potential for drama you didn’t even want to think about. However, it was clear that his desire for you outweighed all of that.
When you gasped into his mouth, the blond cursed.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Quiet…”
You wanted to tell him that you wouldn’t need to be quiet if he hadn’t basically attacked you, but you couldn’t find the words. His thumb was circling your clit, and three of his fingers were creating a delicious burn that had your lips parting against his mouth. Your free arm was haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, hips bucking against his hand. His free hand was digging into your thigh.
You hissed, struggling to speak.
“JJ,” you quietly whined. “I think… I think I’m about to…”
You couldn’t get the words out, but he understood them.
Pulling away from you, he dropped to his knees, fingers still pushing into your dripping cunt. He didn’t hesitate to lean in, burying his face between your thighs with his lips covering your folds, tongue swiping back and forth. The sensations had your eyes rolling, and when he sucked on the hood of your clit, your reached up to cover your mouth.
Your other hand twisted into his hair.
He didn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you even as you came, mouth still attached as well. You couldn’t stop the movement of your hips, feeling possessed as you lifted them in time with his wrists, fucking yourself onto his fingers and grinding against his face. He hummed, and the vibrations caused a shudder to crawl down your spine.
You felt like you were coming forever, dropping your hand and hissing when he lazily massaged your walls with the pads of his fingers. When he pulled them out, he dragged his tongue up your core one last time before sliding his fingers into his mouth. You were still catching your breath when he handed you your snorkeling mask, and you hated the sight of that small smirk dancing along his lips.
Pulling your bathing suit bottoms back into place, you hurried past him, uncaring if you bumped into him or not.
That was how it always went.
Outside of that first kiss, things were always on JJ’s terms, and sometimes you wondered if that first kiss was even an exception. After all, it had been years of flirtatious looks and teasing touches leading up to that moment. That kiss was something JJ clearly wanted—evident in the way he’d kissed you back—and you sometimes wondered if you would’ve even entertained such thoughts if it hadn’t been for him.
You hated how little control you seemed to have in this ordeal. You’d gone out of your way to do what JJ always claimed he needed to do, and what happened? The very thing you both knew you needed to put a stop to. Despite what JJ liked to preach, it seemed he was never going to let you go, and the unfairness of it all was really getting to you.
“Do you think he remembers that he already slept with her? Or are we witnessing a rare event, right now?”
Pope’s words created a heaviness in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at what they were looking at. JJ was indeed talking to a girl you’d seen him disappear with before, and the sight caused a burning sensation behind your eyes. You didn’t understand how JJ just didn’t care how shitty this was for you, and while they were distracted, you slipped away.
You were at a house party on Figure 8, a rare occurrence, and you had Kie to thank. The host wasn’t the average classist jerk, but he’d made it clear Pogues were only allowed if they were invited by a Kook, and Kie’s one foot in one foot out life came in handy. While your friends were distracted by the prospect of JJ sleeping with the same girl twice, you found yourself getting a drink in the kitchen.
When you felt someone brush against your arm, you thought nothing of it.
“I know you,” a voice said after some time.
Glancing up, you were greeted by a very familiar face.
“You’re JJ’s sister.”
Rafe seemed proud of himself for recognizing you, index finger pointed straight at you as he nodded. Unsure of what to say, you merely sent him a tight smile as you raised your brows as if to say ‘in the flesh’. You turned back to finish dipping your drink when he moved, and when you looked at him, he was leaning back against the counter, gaze curious.
“Don’t you usually have a bodyguard or two with you?” he hummed, a glint in his eye that promised nothing good.
You found that you liked it.
“They’re a little distracted at the moment,” you said with a roll of your eyes.
The dirty blond hummed to himself, and you didn’t miss the secretive smile on his lips.
“They’re slacking on their job,” he said, suddenly excitedly exhaling as he grabbed a drink of his own. “Which makes mine a whole lot easier…”
You gave the rich kid a look, and he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.
“I’m heading upstairs. It’s a little crowded down here…and you’re welcome to join me…”
His blue eyes gave you a quick onceover before he brushed by you, and you tapped your finger against your drink, contemplating his words. Rafe was a rich asshole that was probably the closest thing any of you had to a mortal enemy—the guys especially. He was a classist dick who’d gotten into quite a few fights with your brother and your friends…but he would also fuck just about anyone.
You knew that Rafe was mainly motivated by your relation—blood or not—to JJ, and the effect it’d have on him if he knew Rafe had hooked up with you in any capacity. You also suspected that he probably had a hard on for slumming it with Pogues—some type of power imbalance kink going on there—but you didn’t care.
All you cared about was the fact that JJ kept pushing and pulling you without a care as to how it made you feel. He claimed he didn’t want to cross a certain line with you out of fear of becoming the very thing he’d sworn to protect you from, but you felt that line was crossed the first time his face had found refuge between your thighs.
Both JJ and Rafe were assholes…but not only was Rafe the kind of asshole to give you what you wanted, he’d also never pretend to be so righteous.
Rafe didn’t give a fuck about being righteous.
…and that was how you found yourself following after him, looking behind you to make sure you weren’t being watched by anyone who mattered. Rafe was just inside the hallway when you reached the top of the stairs, almost as if he knew you’d follow him. Was there an air of desperation that surrounded you or was he just that confident?
You grabbed onto his arm as he led you into a bedroom.
“JJ’s not looking for you, is he?”
His voice came from behind you as you glanced about the room.
“Do you care?” you wondered, looking over his shoulder to watch him dump a few pills onto the desk.
He chuckled to himself, perfect teeth winking at you.
“Of course not,” he quietly said. “He’s just always one step behind you, hovering over your shoulder.”
His tone made you tense, but his next words made your heart drop.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that brother of yours wanted you for himself.”
You looked away, clearing your throat.
“…and I think you watch too much porn.”
When you looked at him, he was approaching you, now, softly laughing to himself. He pressed the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he studied you, that same glint in his eye that both scared and excited you.
“Maybe…”
You watched him place a pill on his tongue, and when he leaned in, you nervously let him kiss you, swallowing that same pill. Kissing Rafe wasn’t like kissing JJ. Never mind the fact that you didn’t feel any guilt or feel like this was wrong, but Rafe kissed you like he was trying to get you to have sex with him. It made your eyes roll, and when his hand landed on your throat, you reached up to touch it. He forced you to step back, and when the back of your legs hit the bed, you shakily sat down, his lips still on yours.
You knew that this was reckless—dangerous even—because Rafe didn’t seem the type to stop if you asked him to stop. It was a good thing you were angry and hurting and feeling petty because otherwise you didn’t think you’d be so sure of your actions, right now. You didn’t care about Rafe, and so you didn’t have any stakes in this—no concerns about your heart and your feelings and what tomorrow would be like.
Every time you kissed JJ, you felt like your chest was going to explode. You felt something for him, evident in the way it felt like getting stabbed every time you saw him kiss another girl. It was why you always gave in, not strong enough to seriously resist him every time he got his hands on you. Sometimes you protested as of late, sure, but they were shallow, only said out of obligation and always abandoned for what your heart actually wanted.
…and JJ knew this.
Maybe that was what made it hurt more, the fact that JJ knew what he meant to you and still kept you in this unfair corner. He had too much so-called integrity to go all in with you while simultaneously using other girls, but he was also too selfish to just let you go and live an openly romantic life. It was a constant push and pull that fucked you up…and also drove you to place your hand on the back of Rafe’s neck.
You were lying down now, the rich blond on top of you, and you’d long forgotten about JJ and your friends downstairs. It felt good to kiss someone who wasn’t your brother, and when Rafe’s hand found its way between your legs, you decided that felt good too. You gasped into his mouth, and you felt him smile into the kiss, fingers sinking into you.
“Shit,” he quietly hissed, dragging the word out as he kissed down your jaw.
You lifted your hips up against his hand, holding him closer the wetter you became. You were panting beneath him, hands running over him, and there was a bout of disbelief in the back of your mind—disbelief that you were about to lose your virginity to Rafe Cameron in some stranger’s bedroom at a party.
There were a few moments in your life where you’d swear that if you and JJ didn’t become siblings after you were already born, you’d think you were actually related with how telepathically linked you seemed to be. This seemed to be one of those moments, because it was as if he’d read your mind and knew exactly what you were up to.
When the door swung open, you were only startled.
It never occurred to you that JJ would be on the other side should someone come knocking.
It didn’t until you looked over, a protest already on Rafe’s lips when your gaze met a familiar blue one. Rafe’s words died in the air as he registered just who had interrupted you, and for a split second you took satisfaction in the way JJ’s eyes widened at the sight before him. He looked shocked and disgusted all rolled into one, something else glinting in his gaze you just couldn’t name.
Your satisfaction, however, disappeared as quickly as it came.
Any and every emotion in JJ’s gaze was quickly replaced by fury.
So much happened so quick, and before Rafe even had time to get off of you—an arrogant comment on his lips no doubt—JJ had grabbed the other blond and was already punching him. Your surprised shriek drew the attention of your friends who were apparently upstairs too…looking for you. You’d pushed yourself back further up the bed just as the room became more crowded.
Kie was the first to reach you, John B. and Pope hurrying to get JJ off of the older blond.
The other girl was saying something to you, and as you looked at her, you realized that this was the moment the Ecstasy chose to kick in. You were trying to focus on her words, but everything felt distractingly different, and you could only blink when she grabbed your lids, staring into your eyes.
She cursed.
“JJ, JJ!” she struggled to get his attention. “She’s high, we need to go.”
Those words seemed to whip him into shape better than any efforts from John B. or Pope, the blond immediately abandoning Rafe and making his way to you. When he touched your face, you could only smile at the feeling before remembering that you didn’t like him at the moment. When you jerked away from his hands, your brother heaved an irritated sigh.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, grabbing you despite your protests.
Kie helped him, and you didn’t even care to look back to see if Rafe was okay. You only wanted JJ off of you, but considering your vulnerable state, you knew that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You were thankful the music was loud, no one privy to what exactly went on upstairs, worried the host might decide none of you were welcome back. Pope and John B. were close behind you three as you were practically walked to the van like a child.
Seated just inside the van, you looked away from JJ when John B. said he was going to start the vehicle. The blond didn’t like that, grabbing your face and making you look at him. His actions were met with a loud and painful slap, and the sting in your hand didn’t even bother you. Kie and Pope looked out of place as they glanced between you, wondering what they should do.
The silence was loud.
“Just get in the van, guys,” he slowly said. “We’re fine.”
Neither one of them looked sure of that, but accepting that this was something between siblings, they reluctantly did with Pope moving to the front. You could hear both of them talking to John B. just as JJ took your face into his hand again, fingers pressing into your chin and jaw. You didn’t miss the way his own jaw ticked as he looked at you, and you wondered what he was thinking about.
“Not here,” he quietly bit out, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “Alright…?���
You felt your lips tremble, and you couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping, JJ’s face falling at the sight.
“You treat me like shit,” you whispered just loud enough for his ears only, leaning in closer. “I wish that I’d fucked him.”
JJ’s entire visage changed at that, a stricken look on his face as he seemed to realize Rafe hadn’t manipulated you or forced you into anything. His blue eyes were wide as he looked at you, something passing through them that you couldn’t place, and you didn’t care to figure it out. You only moved away from him, scooting back further into the van and lying down. When Kie offered you some water, you took it.
She patted your head as you lied back down, turning to answer some question from Pope just as John B. started the vehicle. As it purred to life, your gaze traveled to JJ who was sitting opposite you, his blue eyes never leaving you. He didn’t look happy at all, and even through your ecstatic haze, you found yourself wishing you had fucked Rafe just to make whatever was to come worth it.
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JJ’s hand was tight around your wrist as he pinned it beside your head. The only sound in John B.’s bedroom was that of your harsh breathing and the rustling of sheets. That dull aching pain was still present from when JJ had first slid his cock into you, but it was overshadowed by the full sensation his fingers had never been able to give you. Your free hand pressed into the small of his back, and his teeth in your shoulder reminded you of how angry the blond was.
John B., Pope, and Kie had only stayed for a few minutes before leaving again, using the excuse of going by the store to get you things you’d need while you came down. You suspected they wanted to give you and JJ some privacy, hoping you’d argue whatever it was they thought you needed to argue out of your system. The brunette had told JJ that it was fine to put you in his room.
You should’ve known that things weren’t going to be that simple.
“Rafe?” he’d screamed at you, and the drugs in your system made his voice seem louder which in turn made your anger feel stronger.
“If you want me to say sorry, I’m not,” you’d tearfully whispered. “We aren’t together…and I can fuck whoever I want just like you do.”
Your words had given him pause, and you could see that JJ at least felt bad. You were sure he always felt bad, but it had never stopped him. Whatever moral high ground he’d been trying to stand on was backfiring, and in his attempts to not be the bad guy, he’d become the worst guy.
“How do you think that makes me feel?” you’d spat, although it didn’t come out as angry as you wanted. “You tell me that we can’t be together. That we can’t do this, and we can’t be anything…but then you kiss me and rob me of just about every first I have left and then you push me away. Over and over and over again.”
You hated the way your voice cracked, unable to get a handle on your emotions.
“That’s mean, JJ. Do you get that?” you angrily looked between his eyes. “You are so mean to me…”
Your voice shook, and JJ knelt before you, reaching for you, but you snatched your hands away. He settled for resting them on your thighs instead, seemingly at war with himself as he sighed.
“I’m not trying to be,” he slowly said.
“Well, try harder!”
Your outburst made his expression harden, and you hated the way he glared at you, now.
“Like you? Hmm?” he wondered, and you looked away. “You’re…you’re going to pretend like you weren’t trying to get back at me by going upstairs with Rafe?”
You rolled your eyes, lips parting as you pressed your tongue to your teeth.
“In a way…yeah…” you rolled your neck to face him again with a shrug. “…but I didn’t think you’d find out.”
JJ froze at that, looking stumped for the second time tonight.
“I thought you’d gone off with that girl!” you screamed, throwing your hand out. “You weren’t supposed to…”
You trailed off, avoiding his gaze once you registered the realization in his eyes. The room was deathly silent, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You were struggling to hold back tears, throat feeling incredibly thick, and the more JJ just stared at you in silence, the more uncomfortable you felt. When he finally did speak, you almost didn’t hear him.
“You were going to have sex with him?”
You didn’t respond, feeling that your silence was answer enough.
“You were actually going to–look at me,” he sneered, taking your chin into his hand again. “You didn’t intend for me to find out? You were actually going to fuck Rafe Cameron.”
JJ’s blond hair was going every which way, courtesy of his hands running through it the entire ride home. You didn’t have a response he’d like, and he seemed to know that, just staring at you with wide eyes. Jerking your face out of his hold, you angrily wiped your cheeks.
“You treat me like something you keep in your back pocket, and you’re shocked I went upstairs with a guy I knew would make me feel wanted?” you murmured. “…and of course, it doesn’t hurt that you two hate each other.”
You watched JJ look away, swiping his tongue between his lips.
“You make me feel like there’s something wrong with me, JJ.”
He looked shocked at that admission, and you shrugged.
“I’m good enough to fool around with a little, but not good enough for there to actually be something between us…” you continued when he started to open his mouth. “…and you say its because you don’t want to be that guy you’d vowed to protect me from, but you’re already that guy.”
You shook your head at him.
“You know how I feel about you, and you tell me that we can’t be anything then okay, fine, I could accept that…but then you keep coming back to me! You ignore any kind of boundary I try to have to make things go back to how they were. You just,” you scoffed. “You do what you want, and I can’t do anything.”
“…because none of the guys on this island are good enough for you!”
His hands were on your shoulders, and his fingers kneaded into your skin.
“Including me,” he quietly added. “…I’m not good enough for you.”
He shakily exhaled, running his eyes over your face.
“…but the thought of you with anybody but me makes me want to be sick,” he slowly confessed. “No, its not right, and its not fair, and I’m sorry.”
You watched him stand again, running his hand down his face.
“…but that doesn’t make it okay for you to go upstairs with Rafe,” he told you, sounding angry all over again. “He is way worse than I could ever be.”
“Well, he’s not scared of you, so at least I know he’ll fuck me.”
JJ stared you down at that, and you stared back, entirely serious.
“When you’re trying to get over me, you get under someone else,” you reminded him. “I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”
JJ’s entire face clouded over, and you could see then that he could see the determination in your eyes. Whether it be tomorrow or next week, you were going to sleep with Rafe. You were tired of being hung up on someone you couldn’t have—someone who wouldn’t let you have him—and you didn’t understand why you had to endure lonely nights just because JJ said so. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t your anything, and as he stared at you, you could see the realization on his features.
If he didn’t want you sleeping with anyone else, then he’d better come up with a damn good reason.
“Fine,” he relented, nodding to himself. “Fine.”
He approached you, grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. While you enjoyed the kiss, you felt that JJ was getting what he actually wanted too easily, and you turned your face away while pressing a hand to his chest.
“No,” you mockingly spat. “I didn’t have to practically beg Rafe-.”
Your words were cut off by JJ’s tight grip on your arm, and you nervously looked at him, swallowing.
“Do not say his name,” the blond forced out. “Do not bring up Rafe to me, right now.”
His grip made you wince, and you thought to yourself how far he would’ve gone with Rafe if Kie hadn’t stopped him. JJ was still pissed about the ordeal, no doubt recalling what he’d walked in on, but at the moment he was more focused on finally giving in to what he’d denied himself for years. Kissing you again, he forced you to swallow any more mentions of the Kook.
He was desperate to get you naked—and you felt the same—and he couldn’t stop kissing you the entire time. His skin felt so warm against your own, chest pressed against yours and hands following a familiar path. His fingers had only prepared you so much, and that was how you found yourself pressing your nails into his skin as he stretched you out.
Somewhere along the way, you remembered that this wasn’t your bedroom nor your house and that you two wouldn’t be alone all night. You lifted your hips to meet JJ’s thrusts, moaning into his mouth and pushing against his hand that had yours pinned. He pulled his lips away to kiss along your chest, curving his hips against yours and thrusting into you with a slow and steady pace.
With the X in your system, it felt like an out of body experience.
You threw your head back, chest arching up against his, shuddering at the feel of your skin grazing his own. When he let your hand go, he slid both of them underneath you, palms resting on your ass as he lifted you onto his cock with every thrust of his hips. You reached down to rest your hands on his wrists, toes curling. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, now, and you loved the feeling of his tongue on your skin.
“It’s just you,” he murmured into your shoulder. “From now on, it’s just you.”
Reaching up, you twisted your fingers into his strands of hair, gripping them and playing with them. You felt like you were floating, your entire body buzzing and warm, and you could only dazedly nod at his words. When he lifted his head to look down at you, there was a peculiar look on his face, and then he chuckled.
“I forgot,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours and talking into the kiss. “I know this feels fucking amazing for you.”
Hooking your arms under his shoulder, you held onto him as he plunged his cock into you. You couldn’t swallow anything down, gasping and mewling beneath him, begging him for things you couldn’t even comprehend. His hair touched your forehead when he pressed his own to yours, nose brushing yours as he stared into your eyes.
The bed shook beneath you, and deep within your mind, something in you felt bad that this wasn’t your bed. That thought reminded you that your solitude wasn’t permanent, and you heard yourself let out a small whine.
“They’re…they’re probably on the way…”
Your words died in the air, lashes fluttering and eyes rolling when JJ snapped his hips against yours. JJ shushed you, promising to make you come before they returned. Moments later, he kept that promise, and you held him to you as you trembled beneath him, clenching around his cock and milking him as he came moments after you did.
Everywhere he touched, heat bloomed, and you didn’t want him to let go.
“Sleep with me,” you murmured, frowning when he pulled out of you.
You could make out him looking for your shirt, quickly putting it on you, and JJ kissed your cheek once you were covered, lips lingering.
“I will when they’re asleep,” he told you.
As if he’d conjured them up, you heard the unmistakable sound of the Twinkie pulling into the yard.
“I’ll stay the night like I always do,” he promised you, moving to get dressed.
When he was decent, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his arms. Your head rested against his stomach, the walls pulsating and the floor moving a tad. JJ was saying something to you, but you couldn’t quite comprehend it, your mind already focused on something else.
“I won’t sleep with Rafe, JJ,” you heard yourself murmur, and he was silent, but you did feel his hand resting on the side of your neck, fingers grazing your jaw.
There was conviction in his tone as he brushed his thumb over your lips.
“You weren’t doing that, anyway.”
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nervoussagittarius · 3 days
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which triplet is most likely to ft. matts girlfriend y/n!
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matt sturniolo x reader
summary: matt invites his girlfriend to a car video with nostalgic vibes
warnings: none :)
you were sitting in the passenger seat of the minivan, you're normal spot when you were driving with the triplets. this time though, a camera sat in front of you on the dash of their car.
being home with the boys in boston was still something you were getting used to. your boyfriend matt had spent a big part of the day taking you around all the iconic spots in the city. the boys had asked you earlier in the if you wanted to participate in a video. you, of course, said yes.
your relationship was no secret to the world. you guys have been together for a couple years, and you had been featured in many og videos.
"gotta turn the world into a dance floor" chris sang, as matt got into the car. he pointed at you to finish the lyric
with a roll of your eyes, "determinate d-determinate" you sang back.
matt and nick looked at the both of you. one in anticipation of you guys to keep singing, and the other in anticipation of starting the video.
nick cut all of you off quickly to intro the video. "hey guys! welcome back to the fridays video"
"today we have a very special guest, drumroll please, my girlfriend y/n" matt said as he looked at you with a stupid smile on his face.
"hi guys! im back" you replied looking at the camera.
chris started from the backseat, "if you're new here, y/n has been in a bunch of our old videos, and were bringing her back to see her take on 'who's most likely to'"
"we've done this before but we figured y/n could give you guys an outside perspective” matt said as he looked at the camera.
“i’m giving y’all the dirt. we’re getting deep… i- okay” the boys laughed at you while nick pulled up the first question.
“okay, which triplet is most likely to get mad at another for chewing to loud?” nick asked as you immediately looked between the camera and matt.
“we already know the answer because the viewers have seen this happen multiple times”
“yeah, i have to say it’s matt. i’m so sorry for coming at you first honey” you said in between giggles as matt rolled his eyes.
“i disagree. i don’t think i’m most likely to do that”
“matt! we’ve witnessed it bro. you can’t say it’s not you when it is. either way it’s a who’s most likely to question not who’s actually doing it! but you’re actually doing it. good god” nick exclaimed.
the car was packed with laughter as nick went in his tangent. you all calmed down as nick asked the next question.
“who’s most likely to not be able to sleep alone”
“all of you.”
“what!?” “no way!” “that’s not even true”
“no it’s so true” you responded to there complaints. “let me explain. nick is probably the least likely. he’s okay sleeping alone i just feel like people come to him the most to sleep with him so he’s used to sleeping with other people.”
“that’s very true. people are always in my bed” nick said giving the camera a little wink.
“matt and chris need to have someone with them at all times. chris can’t sleep in the same place for more then a night. he’s always sleeping everywhere but his own bed. and matt texts me at least once a week that i need to come over and sleep in his bed with him because he can’t fall asleep.”
“let me just clarify,” matt started, “i can sleep alone. i would rather have my girlfriend with me though. and that’s okay. that’s fine”
“yeah and i just don’t like being alone.” chris defended.
a few more questions were answered before you guys decided to call it quits for the night.
matt grabbed the camera off the dash pointing it at you. you smiled and put up a peace sign.
“look at how cute she is” matt said as he put his hand on your cheek.
“alright matt, end the video”
matt screamed in the camera quickly ending the video.
comments:
i can’t get over how beautiful matt and y/n are together
i need someone to look at me the way matt looks at y/n
i love nostalgic boston videos
petition to bring y/n back on the channel more.
an: this kinda sucks because half of it was deleted when i tried to save it to my drafts and i don’t really like it but y’all wanted a matt fic. first part of the matt series will hopefully be up soon🤍
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theemporium · 1 day
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[1.7k] they want to believe jack when he says he has a girlfriend. they really do. it's just kind of hard to do so when they never see her. or, in which everyone is worried jack has found himself in a parasocial relationship.
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“Fuck.” 
Jack raised his head, finding his attention drawn to his captain sitting on the aisle across from him on the bus. He watched as the man began patting himself down before he let out a sigh, standing up to reach for his bag on the overhead shelf. Yet, whatever he was trying to find was a fruitless endeavour as he settled back in his seat with a frown on his face.
“You good?” 
“Hm,” Nico hummed, letting out another long breath as he leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, I just forgot my headphones.”
“Nico Hischier not being organised?” Jack teased, a smile growing on his face. “Someone alert the authorities.”
Nico huffed out a laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 
“Just messin’ with you, cap,” Jack mused, deciding to be the better person and not point out the fact he could see Nico’s dimple even if the boy tried to act like he wasn’t laughing. “Here, I’ll share my music with you. Because I’m nice like that.”
The older boy raised his brows. “Your music for the full five hour drive?”
Jack raised his brows in return. “Do you have anything else better to do?”
“Fair enough,” Nico murmured before he reached over, taking the airpod and slipping it into his ear. “But I get to add some songs too.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved him off before handing over his phone. “Maybe try more English rap songs so I can understand them too, yeah?” 
“Sure, because I’m nice like that,” Nico said with a grin before he turned to shift his attention to Jack’s phone. He clicked on the queue, his brows furrowing slightly when he saw the songs lined up. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Nico murmured. “I just thought you were a country music kind of guy. Never thought you’d be into the rock scene.”
Jack’s cheeks burned as he let out a slightly strained laugh. “I was, uh, broadening my horizons.”
Nico turned to look at him. “So you chose one band? You know, I know a couple of bands if you want them—”
“I’m fine with that band,” Jack said, flashing his captain a smile. 
“You’ve liked every one of their songs.”
“Mhm.”
“So, you know you like the genre, at least. Maybe you should try—”
“I’m good.”
“Jack—”
“Start queuing songs before I take my phone back, Hisch.”
Nico stared at him for a few moments, noting the way he fidgeted in his seat with his cheeks flushed far brighter than they should be with the bus AC blasting. But, Nico decided he would be nice this time around and not bring it up.
Not yet, at least.
Plus the band Jack had chosen was pretty good, if he did say so himself.
...
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yourusername ready to rock north america❤️🖤
view all 13,738 comments
user i am going to the nashville show!!!
user she is THE moment
user omg i can't believe the tour has already started
user BKEWBFJBWEKFBKWEJBF
jackhughes congrats on the tour!! ur gonna kill it!!❤️‍🔥
user JACK HUGHES????
user who the fuck is jack hughes?
...
“What are you giggling at?”
“I’m not giggling at anything.” 
Luke narrowed his eyes. “You literally giggled as you said that.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Unfortunately for Luke, this had been a recurring conversation over the last few weeks because, despite what he said, Jack spent the better part of his free time giggling at his phone. It was sickening and annoying and Luke was so done with trying to scroll through TikTok with his brother snickering like some teenage girl in the background. 
It was starting to grate on his last nerve.
“You’re so full of shit,” Luke grumbled as he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, narrowing his eyes on his big brother from over the kitchen counter. 
“Maybe you should find someone to text and stop bothering me,” Jack retorted, the words slipping past his lips so casually, almost like he hadn’t realised what he said. 
But Luke heard loud and clear.
He straightened up in his seat, his annoyance now replaced with curiosity and he flashed his brother an inquisitive look. “Who are you messaging that has you giggling?” 
“I am not giggling,” Jack huffed out before he lifted his head, finally looking away from his phone screen to catch his brother’s gaze. “And, for your information, I am texting my girlfriend.” 
A few moments of silence passed as both boys stared at each other.
Luke blinked. “When the fuck did you get a girlfriend?” 
“It’s new,” Jack said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. 
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “How new?” 
“Just a couple of months or so,” Jack murmured, at least having the guts to look a little sheepish as a light blush spread across his cheeks. 
“Months?!” Luke repeated with a scoff, the bowl of cereal he was snacking on now long forgotten. “How come this is the first time I’m hearing of it?” 
“We are keeping things private!” Jack defended. 
“I’m your brother!” Luke retorted. “You’re meant to tell me shit. I’d tell you if I had a girlfriend! Quinn would tell me if he had a girlfriend!” 
“But neither of you do,” he snapped back with a shit-eating grin. 
“And you supposedly do,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. “What’s her name?” 
“That’s not important.”
Luke blinked. “Uh, yeah, dude, I think it is.” 
Jack shrugged again. “Maybe I don’t want you to know.” 
“Why not?” Luke questioned, watching his brother just shrug again—not that he was getting fucking sick of that or anything—before he glared. “Is it someone I know?” 
“Maybe.” 
“You’re being ridiculously vague right now and it’s annoying as fuck,” Luke told him. 
Jack’s grin widened. “I know!” 
“Fine, keep your stupid secrets,” Luke grumbled as he reached for his spoon again, rolling his eyes when he heard Jack laughing. “Like I fucking care anyways.” 
But he did. 
He really fucking did and he would find out who this secret girlfriend was if it’s the last thing he did. 
...
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yourusername las vegas, you ALWAYS make me feel at home❤️🖤
view 12,930 comments
user MOTHER!!!
user hot AND talented. your fav could never
user new music when!!!
user THE SHIRT-
jackhughes ur so pretty😍😍😍
user not this guy again
user not a man
notzegrasipromise JACK???
...
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...
“Yeah, I mean, I love my parents but I wish my girlfriend could’ve made it out. It would have been nice to have her here for the family skate too.” 
That was all it took for the hustling and bustling of the locker room to come to a screeching halt. 
Jack frowned, his hands holding his jersey in his hand that he had just taken off as he glanced around the room. All of the boys were giving him different looks: some concerned, some amused, some confused. It was throwing him off. 
“Uh, what?” 
“You have a girlfriend?” It was Dawson who eventually asked, his brows furrowed together in questioning.
“Yeah,” Jack nodded, feeling an odd sense of deja vu from the conversation he had with Luke a few weeks ago. “Geez, I didn’t realise we had to announce stuff like this now.”
“I mean,” Jesper spoke up, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re close, yeah? We usually just tell each other these things. You’ve never mentioned her before.”
“Don’t bother asking for her name,” Luke grumbled from the other side of the locker room.
“She’s not coming to the family skate?” Nico questioned, focusing the attention back to Jack who simply shrugged.
“She travels a bunch for work,” Jack explained. “Or, at least, for right now. She’s out in Nashville right now so she couldn’t make it.”
“But I thought you were all over that rockstar girl,” Simon spoke up from his stall, leaning back against the cubby, half dressed and legs spread. “Every time I open Twitter, I see it.”
Jack’s cheeks burned. 
Jesper gave him a disapproving look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been commenting on another girl’s instagram when you have a girlfriend. What does she think about it?”
“She likes them!” Jack defended. 
Jesper frowned. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of desperate on instagram,” Simon continued with a snort.
“Well, she hasn’t told me to stop,” Jack huffed.
“Yes, because a rockstar with a couple of million followers would personally reach out to stop you,” Luke drawled, a heavy layer of sarcasm dripping from his words.
“She would, considering she is my girlfriend.”
Once again, the locker room fell silent.
“You’re fucking shitting me,” Luke eventually spoke up, shaking his head. “You really think we believe that you pulled her?” 
Jack frowned. “What’s so hard to believe about that?”
“She’s an international rockstar and you’re just a dude who plays hockey,” Luke retorted. 
“So are you!” 
“Yeah, and I’m not sitting here trying to tell people I’m dating Taylor Swift, am I?”
“This is different,” Jack huffed before looking around the room. “I’m dating her! I really am! We met at that rock bar in Jersey City a couple of months ago and we’ve been chatting ever since.”
The boys all gave each other various looks.
“Fine, don’t believe,” Jack grumbled as he leaned down to start untying his skates. “I know I’m telling the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t believe me.”
For the record, only Jim and Ellen Hughes showed up to the New Jersey Devils’ family skate. 
...
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yourusername east coast, we are coming for you!!❤️🖤
view all 14,737 comments
user i cannot believe the tour is almost over
user NEW MUSIC WHEN
user i'm seeing you in eight days!!!!
user oh my god she is so hot
jackhughes coming back to the better coast❤️🖤
user omg he is copying the hearts too
user he is delusional
user it is the devils colours
user you sound just as delusional as him
...
“So, I’ve been talking to Luke.” 
“Oh great,” Jack grumbled as he sunk further into the pillows of the living room couch.
“And I went on Twitter.”
“You must have been pretty bored to redownload it,” Jack commented, suddenly finding interest in the strings of his hoodie, instead of his brother’s face on the phone screen. He should have known it was odd when Quinn messaged to check he was home alone before he called.
“Jack.” 
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack whined as he tried to hide himself deeper into his hoodie. “Whatever Luke told you is bullshit.”
“So you’re not telling people you’re dating an international rock sensation?” 
“Well, I’m not telling everyone,” Jack corrected. “But I am dating her!”
“Uh huh.”
“Not you too,” Jack groaned, throwing his head back and finding his gaze locked on some random part of the ceiling. “Quinn, why would I lie about this?” 
“Because you took a rough hit to the head.”
His head quickly snapped down to glare at his older brother who had the audacity to smirk in response. 
“We’re just worried, Jack. You don’t mention a single thing about talking to her. Then you’re showing up in her comments. And then you’re claiming to date her. All whilst playing and training like normal.”
Jack rolled his eyes.
“It’s fine if you have a little crush or something but—”
“She isn’t just a crush, she’s my girlfriend,” Jack repeated for the umpteenth time. “You’ll see soon.”
Quinn didn’t look awfully convinced  but he knew better than to push Jack on the matter any further. He instead shifted the conversation to a power play from the game before and, thankfully, Jack took the bait. In fact, he was far too busy rambling to even notice Quinn typing out a message straight to Luke. 
quinnifer: ur right 
quinnifer: he’s a fucking lost cause
...
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yourusername tour was a dream but happy to finally come home to you jackhughes ❤️🖤
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jackhughes glad to have my girl home❤️🖤
user WHAT
user a hard launch post tour??? oh she is sick
user i can't believe we lost her to a man
user IS THIS NOT THE HOCKEY DUDE
user omg he actually stood a chance
trevorzegras WHAT THE FUCK
trevorzegras WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
user omg one sings rock and the other plays at the rock
user IT WAS WRITTEN IN THE STARS
lhughes_06 holy shit
_quinnhughes didn't see that one coming
trevorzegras HOW WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY
user i think hockey dude broke his hockey friend
jackhughes he will be fine
trevorzegras NO HE WILL NOT BE FINE
trevorzegras ANSWER YOUR PHONE ROWDY
jackhughes leave me alone, i'm trying to spend time with my girlfriend
yourusername it's true :) very little clothes included
trevorzegras i'm going to go throw myself off a cliff
user what the fuck did i just wake up to
.
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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most likely to || lucy bronze x reader ||
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you and lucy do a couples' interview for the media team.
media days had always been some of your favorites. it was generally a lighter training for you, unless they wanted some footage that day. today was a special media day, something that jona had asked you about after you and lucy came forward with your relationship. it had been a bit of a process for you to convince lucy to do the interview with you, but you knew that she was starting to get excited as the day drew closer throughout the week.
"ready to go?" lucy asked as she stood in front of your cubby. the interview had been arranged for post-practice, but you doubted that they had taken into account how long it took you in the shower. lucy had been ready for at least 20 minutes, not that she could ever mind waiting for you.
"tie my shoes for me?" you asked, since lucy was already in front of you. she rolled her eyes at your request, but knelt down to do it anyway. you knew that the eye roll was just because your teammates were around. lucy generally did all sorts of little things for you throughout the day, claiming that she always wanted you to feel like a true royal. "thank you, luce."
"you know, actions speak louder than words," lucy said. you didn't even have to wait for her to tap her cheek before you were leaning in to give her a kiss. lucy was absolutely beaming as she stood up completely, a light pink blush on her cheeks now.
"wait!" you called out as lucy started to move. you stood up and pressed a kiss to her other cheek. "you did both shoes."
"i double knotted both shoes, actually." you put your arm around the back of lucy's neck and pressed a kiss to her lips this time. behind the two of you, jana was gagging while pina and patri pretended to make out. it felt sort of wild that at the beginning of the season, you had been in their group making fun of the other couples on the team before lucy asked you out.
"one day maybe you'll all get girlfriends too and know what it's like for someone other than your mothers to love you," lucy teased. you swatted at her arm as you mumbled for her to be nice. pina and jana both grumbled as they sat back, but patri started to launch into a full blown rant about how she was more than happy being the "barcelona stallion" and sleeping around for the time being.
"do you see what you've started?" you asked, but lucy showed absolutely no remorse. she just grabbed your hand and walked you out of the locker room to get properly ready for the interview.
"alright, we're just going to play a simple game of 'most likely to' today. i'll ask a question, and you just point to whoever it most likely to do that thing." both you and lucy nodded, having a good understanding of the game. "first question, who is most likely to accidentally sleep in?"
"pssh, this is an easy one," lucy said as she pointed at you. admittedly, you had overslept quite a few times over the course of the season, resulting in both you and lucy being late to training. lucy was a lot worse at getting you up than alexia had been, the other woman often resorting to literally dragging you out of bed in your first senior season at barcelona.
"hey, my brain needs the sleep. it's still developing!" you tried to argue. lucy just laughed, knowing that you usually overslept because you stayed up way too late the night before. although, she did know that you could sleep absolutely anywhere, which she was slightly jealous of.
"who is most likely to burn dinner?" this time, your hand shot straight over to lucy. you had several legitimate examples of her doing this while trying to make sense of a spanish recipe. it was less that she was a bad cook and more that lucy was too stubborn to ask you for a translation.
"it was one time," lucy grumbled. you smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek, which had her swatting you away from her with a pout.
"who is most likely to get a little too wild on a night out?" this question was a plant and you knew it. someone had to have told them to put this in to embarrass you, probably patri or mapi. they had been the two who had fed you shot after shot on a yacht just a few months ago, resulting in a unique combination of seasickness and drunken puking.
"life of the party this one," lucy teased. she reached over to pinch at your cheeks, earning herself a sharp slap to the knee. "and a bit mean. i don't know how i put up with her."
"whatever," you huffed as you crossed your arms.
"who is most likely to have an extra cheat day?"
"she actually has more in her meal plan than me," lucy answered. you couldn't argue with her there, thankful for the fact that you burned through calories more due to your extra strength training. jona and the other coaches had agreed to let you bulk up a bit, and it was definitely paying off on the field.
"i mean, look at these muscles." you flexed for the camera, knowing that it would end up in endless thirst edits later on. you reached for the bottom of your shirt, but lucy stopped you. she didn't mind you being a bit goofy, but she tended to get jealous when you actively showed off.
"who is most likely to get a little hotheaded?" your hand shot over to point at lucy, who had definitely snapped at some of your friends and teammates for getting a little too close to you. lucy shrank back in her seat, embarrassed from being called out.
"i can't help it. look at her!" lucy shouted as she threw her arms up.
"who is most likely to be considered whipped?"
"oh without a doubt lucy."
"(y/n)." both you and lucy looked at each other for a couple of moments before lucy recanted her answer. "from the outside, it may look like i do a lot for her, so maybe it is me."
"alright ladies, we are almost finished. just one more question, who is most likely to be the little spoon?" this time, you knew exactly who had asked this question. surprisingly, it wasn't any of your friends, but rather alexia. she had walked into your bedroom to wake you up for training only to find lucy bronze fast asleep in your arms while you watched her. lucy claimed to have not felt good, but alexia knew better.
"someone's taking the piss out of me with these questions," lucy grumbled as both of your hands pointed towards her. "in my defense, sometimes i just turn away because she clings worse than a koala. she just kind of grabs at my back."
"that's almost as good as the excuse you gave alexia," you laughed. the production team called cut on the video, allowing for you and lucy to finally go home. "wow, if i knew that it was that easy for you to admit that you were whipped, i would have just asked to do one of those earlier."
"people didn't know about us earlier," lucy muttered as she pressed a kiss to your lips.
"not officially, but we were the worst kept secret in the league. you did feel me up on the pitch the first game after we got together," you reminded her. lucy huffed as she rolled her eyes, knowing that wasn't the entire truth. you were giving out hugs to everybody, and lucy's hand had simply slipped a little when you jumped into her arms.
you knew immediately the day that the video dropped. the locker room was quiet, but not in a focused way. it was like they were waiting for someone, and once you and lucy were both sitting in there, chaos broke. cata was the first one to sit next to you, putting her arm around your shoulders as she pulled you tightly into her side.
"careful, lucy might get mad. she's a bit of a hothead." if those words had come out of anybody's mouth other than vicky's, lucy would have flipped a little. the fact that it came from the kid's mouth meant that an outburst was narrowly avoided.
"she doesn't seem very clingy to me. are you sure that you don't just like being the little spoon bronzey?" cata asked as she tried to get you to hug her back.
"i think that's enough," lucy said sharply. she walked over and tugged you out of cata's arms. she wrapped her arms around your waist and pressed her face against the side of your neck. "i won't lay a finger on her, but i'll kick your ass coll."
"lucy," you warned. she huffed from behind you and tried to find something to distract herself with. unfortunately for you, the team was intent on riling lucy up for the rest of the practice. it was to the point where you weren't sure that she'd be happy with you when you got home. the interview had been your idea in the first place.
"that lot is due for an ass kicking," lucy groaned and grumbled. you hadn't seen her so grumpy in a long time. she flopped back against the couch and let her head fall back as she closed her eyes. you didn't notice the way that she was waiting for you to come crawl into her lap, not until she cleared her throat. "are you coming over here or not?"
"you want me to sit by you?" you asked her.
"no, i want you on my lap. i want to hold you for a little while, please." lucy pouted up at you. your lips curled up as a wide grin broke out onto your face. you kicked your shoes off and scrambled into lucy's lap, content to let her hold you. you didn't like being the little spoon, but you absolutely loved to curl into your girlfriend's lap at the end of a long practice. "that's better, isn't it?"
"much. te amo, lucy," you mumbled as you pulled her in for a kiss. lucy surprised you by keeping the kiss innocent. she broke it after a few seconds to press her forehead against yours.
"te amo, lovely." lucy brushed her hand through your hair, smirking to herself as you relaxed against her. she may be whipped by everybody else's standards, but you absolutely melted any time that lucy touched you. it was a true testament to just how much you loved her.
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roosterforme · 1 day
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 3 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You rendered Bradley speechless and left him wondering if your students were the ones who wanted to know what he looked like or if it was really you who was curious. He wanted to know everything about you, but the urge to ask for more was mingling with his duty to keep things professional. You and he teetered on the edge... until you didn't.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley looking hot
Length: 3100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Bradley found himself homesick in a way he never did before. He still had weeks and weeks of this deployment to go, stuck on the aircraft carrier, endlessly curious about someone he barely knew anything about and a classroom full of kids he'd never met. But he felt like he wanted to know more about you and them. 
At least he was too busy now to dwell on the fact that it had been days since the last mail call. He was never one who was lined up, eager to collect something from a loved one. Vanessa and all of his other ex girlfriends never sent him handwritten notes or snacks. He'd gotten sporadic emails in the past, but nothing that made him smile and laugh out loud. Never anything that made him sad when he realized he had reached the end of the note, hoping for more.
He wanted to go back to the lounge and check his email, but he was afraid he'd have nothing new to read. There was really nobody else other than you who would send him anything right now, and he was sure you had something better to do with your time than comment on the photos he'd send of his jet and the engine parts. And even if you had written back, how long could he really keep this conversation with you going? How soon would you run out of interest in his deployment?
Bradley knew he'd be much better at talking to you in person, but how the hell was he supposed to get there? Jesus Christ, you were probably married. You probably already had someone back home wrapped around your fingers, and here he was, still thinking about you. 
"Pitiful," he muttered, making his way to the lounge anyway. He would keep it professional with you. One hundred percent. But he still wanted to know if your students got to see the photos and if they had any questions about them. 
When he logged into his email account, his heart skipped around a bit when he saw that he had something new from you. Then he opened it up and read it, and his lips parted softly in surprise at what you'd sent.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
Bradley read it again. Still surprised, he read it a third time. Were you the one asking for the photo? It seemed like you might be. Or was he just projecting here? Shit. Maybe. He'd been thinking about how he'd respond if you asked him something personal, and this felt like you and he were teetering right on the edge.
You even echoed his own thoughts, but it still made him warm all over to know that you looked forward to hearing from him. That it made your day better when he sent an email. He decided he was going to keep this going as long as he could.
He logged out again and headed to the mess hall for dinner, because there was no point in responding until he had the photo you just asked him for. One where you'd be able to see exactly what every inch of him looked like. As he ate his meatloaf, his thoughts all settled on that one pertinent question: were your students really the ones who were curious about how he looked, or were you? Because it sounded like it could be the latter. He fucking hoped it was. And he fucking hoped you wouldn't be disappointed after tomorrow when he sent you exactly what was asked of him.
----------------------------
You thought you were ready, but you weren't. Not for this. Not for him. Not even close. Thankfully it was still early enough that none of your students were in the classroom with you, because Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw had responded to your slightly tipsy email from a few nights ago. He sent exactly one photo, and your only response was to softly moan, "Holy hell."
To say he was attractive looking standing there in his flight suit next to the jet with his name on the side of it would have been the understatement of the century. He was hot. Unbelievably hot. Top tier. You shamelessly zoomed in to get an even better look at his face which was complete with a crooked little smile and a fucking mustache.
"Who does he think he is?" you asked the empty room, voice filled with need. "The audacity."
Even his messy, wavy hair looked soft enough for you to want to rub your face and lips against it. Where did that idea come from? You uncrossed and recrossed your legs as the most delightful thoughts filled your mind. You already knew he was sweet, kind, attentive and humble, but now you knew he was easy on the eyes, too. If only you could hear his voice. 
After several minutes of uninterrupted gawking, you realized he'd written a few sentences to you as well, addressing you just as he always had. But this felt more personal. Maybe a little intimate.
For reference, I'm 6'1" and 205 pounds. That should give you and your kiddos a good size comparison, yeah? Also, just a little curious myself here.... are you sure they were the only ones who wanted to know what I look like? Or did you want to know, too?
So he called you out. Your whole body felt too hot and too light. You were floating off of your chair even as your heart pounded. You must be two feet in the air by now. He already knew what you looked like, but now you cared more than ever what he thought about you. Because you had a massive crush on your classroom pen pal.
"How embarrassing. You drunk emailed him! How are you supposed to respond to this?" you whispered as you closed your laptop and pressed your fingers to your lips. It was hard to tell if his tone was playful or not. He was smiling in the photo, which made you think that he was. But perhaps he was trying to put a stop to any topic of conversation that could be considered personal. 
Then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. No way was this man single. He was handsome. That would have been enough on its own. But he also had an impressive career, all of his hair, and he was tall. And that didn't even scrape the surface of his sweet personality! You couldn't embarrass yourself further. You just couldn't. You wanted him to keep writing to your class, because they were already so attached to him. You couldn't ruin this for them. 
When your students came flooding into the room, they led off with the same question they had every morning now. "Did we get anything in the mail from Lieutenant Bradshaw?"
"Not yet," you replied, still trying to decide how to respond to his photo. "But hopefully soon. He did email another picture though."
All of them were immediately headed for your desk, wanting to see what their pen pal looked like. You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself as you opened up that photo again, and then the kids all interjected into your thoughts.
"His jet is so cool!"
"It's huge!"
"He looks exactly how I thought he would!"
"Can he send us more stuff?"
It took you a good, long while to get them all into their seats. Clearly you weren't the only one who was entranced by him. Their questions overflowed, most of which still had to do with the aviation topics you'd been teaching them. Bradley Bradshaw had turned your classroom upside down, in a good way. And the more you thought about it, the more you just wanted to make sure you weren't missing out on something here. This man was better looking than the last three guys you went out with all combined, and he already made you feel tingly inside before you knew that for a fact.
You went home after work and did it again. You drank some wine and logged into your work email account and wrote back to him less than a day after he wrote to you. Part of you recognized that you'd look desperate, but you simply had to know so you could stop thinking about him if necessary. You started typing. 
It was definitely, absolutely my students who wanted to know what you look like. It had nothing to do with me. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That being said...nice photo. Very nice.
My kids also wanted me to ask you if your spouse or significant other is in the Navy. And they'd like to know how old your kids are if you have any. Once again, just to be clear, I'm only asking these things on their behalf...
"Send," you whispered, doing it before you could stop yourself. Then you were left with your intrusive thoughts and the rest of the wine, ultimately deciding to just go to bed. He wasn't going to respond right away. He was busy working. You just hoped it didn't take too long. 
But it did. Days passed. You normally tried not to think about your work email account during the weekends, let alone check it. Saturday was miserable as you logged in almost hourly to check and double check if you had something new from Lieutenant Bradshaw. It was so bad, you ended up initiating a movie night with some of your friends, opting to lock your phone in the center console of your car rather than take it into the theater. 
Sunday was no better. You took yourself to the beach for the afternoon to try to read and sunbathe. But there was a group of guys in US NAVY TOP GUN shirts playing football, and you wondered if Bradley ever did this kind of thing with his friends. Or his family. Jesus Christ, why couldn't he just write back and tell you if he had a pretty wife and six adorable kids who loved to play football on the beach with him?
When two of the guys in the TOP GUN shirts purposely threw the football toward your towel and tried to play it off as an accident, you didn't even feel like returning their flirtatious banter. Neither of them had a mustache or soft looking brown hair. Neither of them left you wanting to know more. 
You went home and tried so hard not to check your work email, but you failed miserably. But then you were happy you caved, because he wrote back. Bradley Bradshaw actually responded again. And a few seconds later, you were giggling and trying to control the squeal that escaped your lips.
When the mail arrived on the aircraft carrier yesterday, I was one of the first officers in line, and I wasn't disappointed. I got the second box from your class, and I can't wait to start reading and responding to everyone's notes this week. I'll let you know when you've got more mail coming your way. 
Since your students seem to be showing quite an interest in my personal life, please let them know I actually don't have a spouse or significant other at all. Nor do I have any kids. Their letters (and your emails, too) are the only ones I'm getting this deployment. No one else has been writing to me. Nobody stateside is waiting for me. I hope that answers their questions to your liking.
And now it's your turn to answer a question for me. Is there a guy in your life who is going to try to beat the crap out of me if I tell you that I think you're gorgeous? 
I'll just be waiting impatiently for your response.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
----------------------------
Bradley was so tired. The kind of bone deep exhaustion that only comes after the completion of a dangerous mission when your adrenaline finally wears off. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be back at home in his bed in San Diego with a soft, warm body next to his and a sweet voice in his ear. But he was picturing your face and your body, already convinced you'd have the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.
Shit. He needed to focus on what the admirals had to say instead of drift into daydreams.
"No need to report to the strategy room in the morning, Lieutenant," his commanding officer said as Bradley unzipped the top of his flight suit. "Take some time to rest."
He saluted the admiral and walked off toward his bunk and a hot shower. But even as the steamy water eased the ache in his muscles, he thought about how he already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right now. Not when he still had a few messages from your students to respond to. Not when those notes always made him smile.
This time you'd only included a very short note in the box, but it wasn't typed up and printed out. It was written in your pretty penmanship on a sheet of lined paper.
Lt Bradshaw,
I hope this package finds you well. Please prepare yourself for approximately seven hundred more questions. Thanks again for sharing your time with us.
He didn't mind one bit. In all actuality, he was living for this shit, already thinking about how he could maybe visit your classroom someday soon. Several of the kids asked him if he could. They all asked him to take more pictures of life on the aircraft carrier. Then he laughed for a solid minute over the photo that Jayden sent of his Cocker Spaniel named Vanessa. 
But Bradley had purposely been neglecting his email inbox for the last few days. He was too afraid to read your words telling him that you were in fact taken, and that he was stupid for thinking you'd been the one who wanted to know what he looked like. He was rather enjoying the delusion that you might let him tell you how pretty he thought you were over email and maybe someday in person. He decided to respond to the rest of the notes in the box before getting rejected, otherwise it would be too hard to do this.
He finished writing back to Oliver and Cooper and then tucked the box away under his bed before drifting off to sleep while dreaming of his own bed. But the next day, he had literally no work to do. He's been given the entire day off. He hit the gym and avoided the married woman like the plague. Then he ate lunch and contemplated going back to the gym again, but his feet carried him to the lounge instead. At the very least, he promised you that he'd let you know when you had mail on the way so the kids could get excited. He should take the time to tell you he'd be sending more responses to your class by air mail.
Somehow Bradley had convinced himself so thoroughly that you were in a relationship, he almost couldn't fathom anything else. But there was a new message from you in his inbox, and it felt like a gift when he opened and read it.
Lt Bradshaw,
I must say, I was surprised to find out that my emails and the letters from my class are the only ones making their way to you. Not that I'm complaining. Not one bit. I just find it hard to believe that you don't have a lot of interested parties hoping for a chance to be the one you think about when you're deployed and all alone.
My last boyfriend didn't like it when I talked about my fourth graders. He didn't really see any value in what I do for a living. He would have never taken the time to read something they wrote let alone answer their questions individually. So no, there's nobody who would be upset with you for making me feel like there are butterflies permanently living in my belly now. If you want to tell me you think I'm gorgeous, I'm certainly not going to stop you.
Here's my personal, non school affiliated email address. Just in case you feel like using it. If not, you can keep responding here, and I can take the hint that we went far enough.
I hope you're doing well and staying safe.
Frantically, Bradley checked the date and time stamp. "Fuck," he growled, his fingers not quite able to keep up with his brain when he realized you'd sent this to him days ago. More than five days ago! "Shit. Fuck!" He had been keeping you waiting! As soon as he got his hands working at the same speed as his thoughts, he copied and pasted your personal email address and started a new thread like his life depended on it.
----------------------------
You were just curling up with a cup of sleepy time tea after a long day at work, wishing someone would put you out of your misery, when your phone vibrated on the couch cushion next to your leg. You were half tempted to ignore it, reasoning that it was probably time to accept the fact that Bradley Bradshaw already lost interest in you and delete his photos from your downloads folder. You should learn how to stop embarrassing yourself.
Then you glanced down and saw that you had a new email. It was from a now familiar sender. It had been sent to your personal account. You immediately scrambled to unlock your phone and read it.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'd like to take it further.
Yours Truly,
Bradley Bradshaw
-------------------------------
What the fuck, Bradley, you smooth man! Take it further, take it further, take it further! I love how impatient they get when they want to hear from each other. Now go ahead and get a little more personal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who sent me messages and asks about this fic.
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581 notes · View notes
babygazette · 1 day
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Please can we get more soccer mom and rafe??<3
RIGHT UNDER THE DOG’S NOSE
synopsis : sequel to done deal. weeks after your deal with coach cameron, you’re pregnant. with your libido through the roof, rafe helps you out and you two figure out future plans.
pairing : coach!rafe x soccermom!reader
warnings : minors dni, 18+ smut, mean husband, cheating (again fuck cheating, don’t do it), pregnant sex, p in v, reader calls rafe ‘coach’ like once, cheating while in the same house as the husband, unprotected sex
word count : 2,119
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📠 📰 ────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────
coach cameron stands there watching the game with his arms crossed and his legs wide in an intimidating stance, he chews on a piece of gum while his eyes slowly wander from the boys running around to you. he smirks at you, sending you a wink that makes every other mom around you start giggling like teenage girls. you keep eye contact while grinning at him, almost wanting to blow him a kiss to let everyone know that he’s yours but that ring on your finger stops you, so does the fact that your son is on the field just right there. it’s been a few weeks since you said yes and making that deal with coach cameron was one of the best decisions of your life. it solved so many of your problems– your husband was no longer running his mouth (about your son at least), your son looked a lot happier, and he gets along with rafe quite well. 
the most important thing is you actually got to cum almost every week unlike before where it was once a month if you were lucky. rafe fucked you anywhere and everywhere he could: his office, the janitor closet, one time in the locker room, his house, any other secretive place you could possibly think of. therefore it's not much of a surprise when the stick has two vibrant red lines confirming that you were indeed pregnant. 
you let out a deep exhale before leaving the bathroom with the test in your hand over to where your husband lounged on the couch. you know your son’s asleep, it's midnight, but you still check anyway. once you are sure that the coast is clear, you clear your throat to get your husband’s attention, “honey?” his eyes are too focused on the bright tv, his face being illuminated by the flashing television and nothing else. you roll your eyes at him, before trying to get his attention again by tapping his shoulder. “fuck, what do you want? how many times do i have to tell you not to bother me when i’m watching?” he scolds you, only giving you one scornful look, you smile but your thoughts are anything but polite. what a sleazeball. 
“honey, i have something important to tell you.” you step in front of his view with the sweetest expression on your face, your husband groans but decides to listen begrudgingly. i'm having an affair with our son’s coach and “i'm pregnant!” with rafe’s baby probably. you didn't know his facial expression could look more annoyed until now. “you’re messing with me, you managed to get pregnant from one time? the fuck is wrong with you?” he doesn’t seem to have a clue that there's a possibility of it being another man’s. maybe because he’s too arrogant to assume he got cheated on. “you’re not happy?” you pout, tilting your head at him, you really couldn’t care less what he thought.
“no, i'm not jumping with joy at something that’ll drain my damn money. jesus christ, i'm going on a drive. it's all on you, not like i'll be taking care of it.” you watch as he collects his coat and slams the door shut, he’s definitely going to the bar which gives you about two hours maybe? you stare at the television and exhale in relief that he was finally gone, a divorce lawyer commercial? funny. you turn off the screen before wandering back to your shared bedroom and slumping on to the plush comfort of your mattress. the whole house is so silent, it’s nice but it leaves you in your thoughts. you glance at the positive pregnancy test still in your hand before sliding your phone off the nightstand, you dial up a number. ring, ring, ring–
“hello?” he picks up after a few rings, his voice all groggy and deep from his slumber. you bite your lip before speaking up, “hey.” almost instantly you hear shuffling from his side once he realizes it’s you. “hey, something happen? do i have to come get you?” rafe lets his words stumble over each other as concern washes over him because you don’t usually call this late. you grin at his cute worry and shake your head even though he can’t see it. “mmh.. just miss you is all.” you hear his raspy chuckle that makes your heartbeat a lot quicker. “no, you don’t. i can hear that sly tone in your voice, baby. my boys try to trick me everyday, you think i don’t know that voice?” he scoffs over the phone before he softens up again, “tell me.”
“i’m pregnant.” you finally say and there’s a very long pause. the silence is killing you, nibbling anxiously on your bottom lip, begging that he’s gonna be happy. “i’m coming over.” he blurts out, you furrow your eyebrows in utter disbelief because that was way too risky for him to do so casually. “what, rafe? someone might se—“ a click of the line and the call ends right then and there. what just happened? you sit there on your bed, thinking about what just transpired, it’s not the time for this. he’s actually coming here when you had no precise idea when your husband was coming home. you rush out of the room, checking to make sure your son was not gonna wake up any time soon, seems alright. you pace around the living room as you await rafe’s sudden visit because his reaction was too unreadable. was he glad or was he angry? not a clue.
minutes later, you hear heavy knocks: it sounds urgent almost, you look through the peephole to see rafe but he was less put together than normal. this was a terrifying sight but you open the door anyway. your eyes widen as rafe immediately wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. “it’s real right? you’re actually pregnant? don’t— don’t tell me i came all the way over here for no reason.” he kneels down instantly to feel your stomach which is barely even growing a bump. “yes, it’s real. i still have to go to the doctors to confirm but knowing how my first one went. i’m sure.” he looks up at you and gets up with his hands holding onto yours. his eyes, those ocean eyes are killing you, you haven’t seen eyes that full of love in forever. “i’m gonna take care of you. i’m gonna take real good care of you and this baby, you– you understand? fuckin’ hell, baby!” rafe cheers in happiness, walking around the room with his palms over his eyes.
────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────
rafe stayed true to his word. in the past two months, he went to every appointment that your husband didn’t, constantly checked on you, when your husband wasn't home; rafe would come over and help you in any way he could. your husband was clueless. the only thing that frustrated you was he hadn’t fucked you in forever and now you were too horny, currently in your second trimester, you desperately needed to get off. 
so that’s why you’re desperately grinding against rafe’s lap in your living room at the dead of night with your husband and son sleeping just upstairs. “hey– shit– you said there was an emergency.” rafe tilts his head back onto the couch and holds onto your hips tightly. “it is an emergency!” you whine out, needily rolling your hips on his growing bulge, “it hurts, rafe, pleasee..”
he groans and his hands try to stop your movements in distress. “baby, you can’t do this to me— c’mon. you’re pregnant. i— i can’t be..” rafe pauses his scolding when he feels how you’re soaking his pants. he did promise he’d take care of you. “alright, alright! you want dick so badly? gonna be a needy little mama?” he holds you up on his lap while his other hand unbuttons his pants hastily. rafe slides his pants and boxers down, stroking it quickly before he slips his fingers to your drooling pussy. “fuck.. it’s soaked, baby. needed me to fuck you in his house, huh? i’m not doing anything. you want it, you do it.” he leans back against the couch, settling into the plush cushions and watching you squirm.
like a flip of a switch, you’re bouncing on his cock, moans slipping past your pouty lips. your slick causing easy access, he’s filling you up just how you needed. everytime his cock would slip out from how wet you were, you pushed it back in greedily. “jesus, calm down. know you want it, baby. don’t forget where we are.” he grunts out, cupping your face in his hand, thumb slipping into your mouth to muffle your mewls. 
“love it, coach..” you babble around his thumb, words coming out in a slur, he chuckles at you. “gotta call me that in bed? dirty girl.” he teases you but rafe knows he loves it too. you’re riding him like there’s no tomorrow, somehow gathering a huge amount of stamina that left as soon as you became pregnant. his other hand guides your hips up and down his cock. 
you needed it so badly and now that you have it: you can’t stop. the pregnancy fatigue is catching up with you soon enough and now you’re just relying on rafe’s hand to help you ride him. he notices that you’ve slowed down a lot and flips you onto your back. he said that he’d do nothing but he can’t help it, rafe’s gotta ease your pain. his hips slowly roll into you while he tries to keep his body uplifted to not crush you. one hand holding him up and the other still in your mouth. rafe can tell you’re close now by the way your eyes roll back and your whines increase in volume. your walls flutter around his shaft causing him to groan, his hands slipping to your sensitive clit, aiding you to your orgasm. “cum for me, baby. come on. let it all out, i got you.” he coos at you and soon enough you were creaming on his cock, rafe following soon after. 
“all good?” rafe questions and you nod sleepily, he gives you a kiss before sliding down to kiss your growing baby bump. he puts his pants back up and cleans you up carefully with the tissue by the coffee table as you get yourself together. “when your water breaks, you call me alright? i want to be there. and if that guy tries anything i’ll stop it.” rafe brings up suddenly, tossing the dirty tissue somewhere, pulling you back onto his lap. he taps your cheek lightly to make sure you’re listening to him. the seriousness of the topic snaps you out of your after daze and you smile at him, “mhm, got it.” he grins back at you once you confirm, looking down to adore your future child. 
a few seconds of cuddling pass and you were getting sleepy, wanting nothing more than to sleep here with him on this couch. you can’t though and you know that. “i gotta go, baby, before they wake up. think you can handle yourself?” rafe asks, not wanting to leave either but he has to. you get up from his lap unwillingly and nod at him that you were gonna be okay. he gets up with a sigh and leads you by the waist to the door. you follow him out, wanting to spend every small second together. 
rafe turns around once he’s out the door and gives your hip a gentle squeeze. “you leave him and you come to me.” he whispers to you and tilts your chin up, his eyes telling you not to argue back. you do, of course.  “but—“ you aren’t even sure why you hesitated either. “no buts, the fuck you need to stay with him for?” your son, you think to yourself but don’t say because he’s right. you’ve been checked out of this marriage a long time ago and the only reason why you stayed was for your son. now that you have rafe, it was time. “m’kay.” you agree and he gives you a nod, kissing your cheek again. “get back inside, it's cold.” rafe ushers you inside and doesn’t leave until he makes sure you’re inside the house. 
you get back into bed, back to your husband as he snores, that night you dream about rafe playing with your son in his backyard while you hold your baby girl. rafe comes over to you with a smile and takes the baby in his arms, bouncing her while he coos at her. 
a new shiny ring with a pretty diamond on your hand. 
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evie-sturns · 1 day
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drunk - Chris Sturniolo
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summary: you show up to you, and your boyfriend chris's home drunk after a girls night out. chris has to take care of you in your interesting... state.
contains: fluff, mentions of alcohol, vague mentions of throwing up, crying, swearing.
a/n: i wanted to do a little mature chris fic because i dont see enough of that, i hope you guys like this!!
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tonight started as just me and 6 other friends at a club, before i left the house chris made it very clear i need to be home before midnight.
right now its 1:30 of the next morning, my friend grace is glued to my side as i cackle, watching her twerk on the dancefloor. i drag her to the bar, throwing back several more shots.
i'm not sure what time it is, or where the other 4 of my friends are but all i know is i should probably be getting home..
"graceee" i laugh, pulling out my phone and attempting to call an uber, all the text is jumbled. a girl walks by me, i grab her arm lightly and hand her my phone, "call me an uber please babe" i say to the girl, she smiles before handing my phone back shortly after,
"its coming in 10 minutes!!" she calls out over her shoulder as she walks away.
i drag grace out of the club as we laugh about nothing, the uber pulls up and we pile inside.
-
i stumble up the front porch of chris and i's house, swinging open the front door as it hits the wall with a bang, i let out a small laugh as my heels click against the wooden planks.
"chrissy!!" i yell out a stupid nickname, chris walks out from the bathroom, hes shirtless only wearing sweatpants, which sit dangerously low.
"where the fuck have you been!" chris says, his voice serious as he grips my wrist firmly.
"uh.. club? obviously," i say with an attitude.
"drop your tone, come with me." he says, pulling me down the corridor into his room.
"sit" chris says, dragging me over to the bed and gently placing me down on the end of his bed. he gets down on his knees and starts to undo the straps of my heels, pulling them off my feet. "ow christopher!! 'fuckin hurts." i whine, folding my arms
"do you know what time it is?" chris asks, "like 10pm? can you read a clock?" i reply with an eye roll, my tone slurred.
he stands up off his knees as he looks down at me on the bed, i look to the side, chris grabs my chin,
"look at me." he says, making me look up at him with the hand on my chin. he stares into my eyes,
i erupt into tears, "your mad at me and im really really sorry but i-.. i" i say as mascara starts to flow down my flushed cheeks.
chris shakes his head, closing his eyes "i'm not mad at you sweetheart." he says, picking me up off the bed and placing me on my feet,
"you wanna know what i think?" chris asks softly, i nod my head.
"i think you've had a bit too much to drink tonight, you think so too?" he says, putting my arms in the air and lifting my mini-dress up over my head,
he walks me over to his closet, pulling out a pair of my small pyjama shorts and one of his shirts, which pulls onto me.
"you look pale baby, do you feel sick?" chris says, speed-walking me into his bathroom to get off his carpet.
"yeah." i sniffle, he sits down next to the toilet on the cold marble tiles, he pulls me onto his lap where i stay on my knees.
all of the achohol i've had tonight exits my mouth into the toilet bowl, "there we are." chris says, stroking my hair as he holds it behind my head.
"good girl, your okay." he sighs, "at least all the shots are out now" he says, standing up and walking me over to the sink, leaning me over the sink and filling up his hands with water as a cup.
he pours it into my mouth with a small laugh, i swish it around before spitting it back into the sink.
"feeling a little better?" he asks, picking me up by my ass and taking me towards his bed.
"im sorry." i say, letting my head fall forward into his bare shoulder, "don't apologise, you throwing up all the drinks you've had is much better than keeping it in okay?"
i nod, he lays me down in bed before pulling the covers up over me. leaning over me as my eyelids grow heavy.
"chris.." i say quietly, my speech still slightly slurred, "yeah?" he replies "i'm sorry for being mean" i say, chris laughs,
"dont worry about it precious." he smiles, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips,
"chris!!! i've just been sick!" i say, pulling away.
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shellxrls · 1 day
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BABYTRAP !
— r. cameron
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synopsis: rafe cameron x fem!reader… stumbling upon your ex at a party, you can’t help but fall into the trap of sleeping with him at least once more.
warnings: manipulative!reader / exgf!reader / babytrapping / aggressive, unprotected sex / dubcon (rafe is high & drunk) / mentions of substances such as weed and alcohol
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a mixture of masculine cologne and the unseemly combination of alcohol and weed — you could smell rafe before he stumbled into you. he was being forced out one of the rooms lining the hallway of tannyhill, a crass hand shoving him out while he muttered a stream of curses in retort and attempted to single-handedly rebuckle his belt over his sagging trousers.
considering you were just about deeming your search for him futile, you seemed to have lucked out, grabbing the hand that had now moved on to buttoning his shirt. and cooing at his face, “she seemed like a bitch, wanna hang with me for a while rafe?”
his lips draw into a line at first, tension lining his face as he weighs up his options, but you pout your lips and pull down your shirt and once his eyes gravitate towards your tits, he lets you lead him into a private room.
“wanna tell me what happened?” you nod towards his haphazardly buttoned shirt, raising your eyebrows in question.
“nah,” he slurs his words a bit, torso leaning towards you until his head was looming over your own, “bought me in here to fuck hmm?”
you pause, slightly taken aback at his blunt nature — but it was rafe, so it’s not like you expected any less, it wasn't a surprise that the combination of intoxicators floating in his system had only made him more prone to aggression.
“c’mon tell me i’m wrong,” he pushes, heaving his body closer until he was shoving into your chest and you could feel his liqueur-stained breath on your cheeks.
he wasn't exactly wrong, but that didn't mean you weren't ready to retaliate, “gonna fuck me like you mean it this time? or you gonna cum before you make me like i bet you did with that girl earlier?”
“fuck you. actin’— actin’ as if i didn’t do enough for you while we were dating, always comin’ to me about some stupid shit ‘n crying, now i’m in the wrong?”
before he’s realised he’s driven your back into the headboard, spitting in your face with the mass of unresolved emotion bubbling to the surface— yes you were his ex, but more often than not it seemed like it was built on the foundation of mutually beneficial emotional support, fixing each others faults in a way.
sighing, you can’t help but tongue your cheek, you wanted a quick (and good) fuck, not to be forced into listening to his critiques of your side of the relationship, “you done yet?”
“mmh,” he grunts, clearly riled up “imma show you who’s fucking done.”
with that he’s straddling you over the bed, your back pushed into now mussed sheets and eyes already glazing over in preparation for the intensity of his sexual frustration.
hastily, he drags down your panties and discards your dress into some crevice of the carpeted floor, wordlessly manhandling his palms over your body, just feeling— reminiscing.
“fuckin’ hate you,” he huffs clearly exasperated at the weakness of his own will as he jerks himself against your slit, coating himself in the arousal glazing your pussy to prepare both of you for the stretch.
you both sigh when he finally gets it in, whinging until he’s reached the hilt and his balls are meeting your ass.
“missed you rafe,” you hum, creeping a hand to his lower back to push him in closer, encouraging him to start thrusting.
he smirks a little, eyes flickering in cynical joy, “forgot how easy you’re swayed with just some dick, princess.”
you mewl at the nickname, patting him on the back for penance when he increases his pace, the sound of skin-on-skin overtaking the bass leaking through the door and forcing punched out whines and whimpers to exit your mouth— noises of pure and utter degradation, all at the mercy of rafe’s cock.
rafe’s nearing the edge soon, you can feel it from the way he throbs and somehow grows heavier inside of you, and so you clench a couple times to motivate him, forcing higher pitched noises out of your mouth to which his own lips contort into pleasured grunts.
“fuck ‘m gonna cum baby, you’re close right? fuck, yeah you’re close,” the words tumble out of his mouth, his pelvis clenching tighter.
ever so slightly sex-dazed, you struggle to form the words, but once you finally regain your motive, a line of “love you rafe, i love you, iloveyou” ‘s spew out of your mouth, just in time to have him gasping around air and looking utterly confused as he’s forced into cumming.
before he has time to regain his bearings and pull out, you wrap your legs around his torso, digging your heels into the meat and repeating your prior words. constraining him into cumming deep inside of you, trapped into rutting it back into your pussy, oversensitive dick going flush at the base and squelching perversely while cum trickled out of you and oozed onto the sheets, sticking to your thighs and his crotch.
“fuck, ‘m sorry- i— i just, i got so.., you love me?”
“mhm rafey. gonna have all your babies now right? so we’re gonna have to love each other,” you faux pout, patting at your stomach and gathering his trembling hand to finger his release back into you.
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cupids-chamber · 1 day
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— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! | chapter one . . . The first chapter, where you'll be able to catch a climpse of the inner dynamics between the emperor's y/n's secretary and their personal guard, a small entry and brief taste of what's to come, while learning a bit more about our beloved emperor and their staff . . .
— Themes ; Harem / historical au , Twisted wonderland , multiple characters x reader , royalty au , includes rsa + yuuka/yuuken. ♡
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The wind was howling, the pitter patter sound of rain could be heard throughout the grand walls of the palace. The sound of heels clicking urgently on the wooden floors, echoing through the empty halls, as Yuuken rushed his way through to the emperor's chambers. It was late, yet he’d been overworked all week preparing the palace for the arrival of certain selected members of the Royal Harem, some were particularly demanding with the way they wanted things sorted out and Yuuken prided himself on never failing to impress. 
He banged on the door rather aggressively, “Your majesty, I have certain design plans I need you to finalize before Prince Leona’s arrival, and the first few concubines enter the palace, we don’t have much time!”, he yelled out trying to get the emperor’s attention, it was already late into the night and the palace staff were working overtime meeting every demand that they were given. 
Yuuken flinched feeling something touch his shoulder, and right before he could move back and attack, he heard an all too familiar voice—”Don’t bother trying to get their attention, Y/n’s at a meeting”—Yuuka spoke, a small grin on her face while she watched Yuuken try and collect himself, “This late?”, he asked confused, “also please try and address them by proper titles in public”; Yuuka shrugged in response, pausing for a moment before she spoke up once more, “I’d like to keep things the way it is, and you should probably take a break because they’re not coming out of the room at all, it’s something about politics . . . I wasn’t really paying attention”. 
Yuuken sighed, slumping his shoulders as he leaned onto the door of the Emperor's chamber, “I-i . .  just want everything to be perfect, everything’s been so . . hectic for their majes—y/n and I just really want to provide some stability, you know?”, he said softly, letting his exhaustion take over for a moment and Yuuka’s expression softened, “Hey—you’re doing great, there's a reason y/n gave you full creative liberty”, she ruffled his hair giving him a genuine smile, “don’t push yourself too hard alright? None of us are expecting you to be perfect, not even y/n . .” she finished, as Yuuken closed his eyes and whispered a small, “I know . . .”
Setting: Meeting room Location: The west wing. Time: 11:36pm 
You fiddle with your fingers, trying to shift the jewelry that you were covered in, in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the weight that the jewels provided, holding you down . . , as another argument ensues between the nobles, these past few days have felt like a choir, in fact most of the months since you ascended have felt terrible, nothings been exciting—from inheriting an empire doomed to fail, to trying to pick up the scraps of what was left of your fathers reckless decisions and fixing it into something at least palatable, the pressure of everything has left you in a bottomless pit, you needed freedom a refreshing start—something you lost—when you inherited the throne . . . 
“—Ah, your majesty?”, one of the nobles spoke up, and you bit your lip, how you hated that title, the moment you inherited this role, your friendships haven’t quite been the same, everyone who you’ve trusted in the past, have now become just another subject, trust is no longer something you earn, as loyalty and trust is to be expected when the crown is on your head.
Setting: Inner Cold Palace Garden Location: Rundown Gazebo Time: 12:46am 
"—and they never thanked me'', Yuuken hiccuped out, words slurring due to his alcohol intake, he waved the half finished bottle of some form of expensive imported wine in his hands, swinging it around dramatically; Yuuka chuckled, taking a sip from her glass as she looked around at the scenery of the garden—it used to be much prettier and well taken care of, way back before the previous emperor—y/n’s father—went haywire. . . 
"Hey Yuuken, remember when we used to play together here?" she asked without thinking, meeting his eyes for a brief moment all the while Yuuken took another big gulp from his wine bottle . . and then he spoke, "Yeah—you and y/n pushed me into the lake, I still hate the water", he slurred over his words slightly and Yuuka chuckled in response, if only things could've stayed as simple, but now Y/n didn't even have the time to maintain the garden where they're friendship once first blossomed, Yuuka sighed, leaning her head down on the table—which had seen better days— . .  the same could be said about their relationship with y/n themselves . . 
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Masterlist | Introductions (being reworked) | Next chapter
♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?
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— taglist ♡ (open) : . . tumblr is not letting me mention over 5 people per post, and the staff won't do anything about it, so I recommend just joining my server and picking out the new chapter ping role as it makes things easier for me.
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© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
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homestylehughes · 1 day
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kiss it better
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pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: jack's injury takes a toll on his and y/n's relationship, when tensions come to rise. emotions get the best of them and, feelings are hurt and tears fall. but that's nothing a little kissing or more can fix.
warnings: smut 18+ (idk what happened..), lots of angst, emotional reader and jack. cussing, fluff, cuteness, use of pet names and y/n.
wc: 3k
authors note: hi my little loves!! i'm back with another jack fic... no surprise! BUT this is my second back to back upload. look at me. i wrote all of this in one day, BOOM. anyways! this one was a little emotional to write, i'm trying my hand at writing angst, i love angst. i wasn't going to write smut but HEY IT JUST HAPPENED LOL. so hopefully you guys enjoy!! reblog and like if you enjoy <3 as always much love!!
happy reading <3
The devils had a rough year, everyone knew it, with their season ending in a heartbreaking way. 
Jack had an even tougher year, his season being filled with 2 injuries that led his season to end early, so he could undergo shoulder surgery. We all knew this was coming, it was only just a matter of time.
This time it hit Jack harder than the times before, he felt like he let his team, fans, and family down. 
Resting and recovering wasn't something Jack liked to do, he’s always been a go go go person, always doing something, always on the ice. 
 Jim and Ellen went with him to Colorado for his surgery, I stayed back and waited for his arrival back to Jersey. When he arrived back from Colorado from his surgery on Saturday, everything was fine. The first few days had been pretty easy for Jack, sleeping for most of the time. Only getting up to eat, shower, with my help and take his meds. 
He had been home for a week before tensions in our home started to rise. 
I woke up to a loud noise coming from the kitchen I think, rubbing my eyes quickly. As I lifted up out of bed, I turned to Jack's side of the bed, to see that he's not there. 
Quickly slipping on my slippers I make my way down stairs, to see Jack in the kitchen trying to fix himself a bowl of cereal. As I make my way further into the kitchen I see that the milk is spilled all over the counter on the floor, with the bowl also on the floor broken into pieces. 
I hear Jack mumbling words under his breath that I can't quite make out, but I'm assuming none of them were things I wanted to hear. 
Jack spots me before I even open my mouth to speak. “Shit i'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you up,” he says, looking at me. 
“ I just wanted to make myself breakfast, but I can't even do that.” His head hung low as speaks. I could hear the sadness in his voice. 
“Jack it's okay, I promise” I say, making my way towards him. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make you something, okay?” 
“NO!” Jack says loudly, the raise of his voice catching me off guard. “No, I can clean up my own mess. I made it.” 
Taking a deep breath, trying to choose my words carefully, I can already feel the tension in the room rising. 
“At least let me help,” I said quietly, not wanting to upset him. “I don't need your help y/n.” Jack says aggressively, “you've been helping and taking care of me all week.” he says as he turns to grab a towel to clean up the spilled milk.
I stood there in shock, Jack had never talked to me like that before. Anger and sadness ripe through my body. My head is telling me to fight back, but my heart is telling me not too. 
Im hot on his heels, following behind him, “jack.'' I called out his name, his back turned to me, as he began to clean up the mess. I get no response, “Jack'' I say again but a little bit louder this time, which still doesn't get a reaction from him.
My head is beginning to win, now wanting to fight back. I go to grab the towel out of his hands, throwing it in the sink behind me. Grabbing his hip, to turn him towards me so I can look at him. 
His eyes are locked on the ground, not looking at me. “Jack.” I try again for the third time. “Talk to me, what's going on?” softly saying to him, bringing my hand to his chin to lift his face up, to look at me. 
Jack is quick to rip his face from my hand, “i don't want to talk” he says looking straight at me now. Tears of anger, sadness, frustration swimming around in his eyes. “I'm going to clean up my mess, and you’re not going to help, leave it alone.” he says sternly at me.
My eyes are beginning to fill with tears of my own, not wanting to cry in front of him, not wanting to speak and argue with him to make the situation worse. I nod at him and make my way out of the kitchen, tears falling on my face as soon as I do. 
I just wanted to help him, be there for him, he needs someone right now even if he won't say it. I know this is hard on him, mentally and physically, but that doesn't make his actions okay.
All of these thoughts are running through my head as I make my way to our shared bedroom.  Making my way to the closet, deciding to start getting ready for the day, there's no way I'll be able to sleep after this. 
Tears are still falling on my face, I want to go back down there and say something, help him, talk to him, give him a hug. Do anything that I can for him, but I know he doesnt want that right now, he made that very clear. The situation is already tense enough. 
While getting ready for the day, I decided to give Jack space today. It seems to be what he wants from me right now. The tears have stopped falling for now, but my thoughts and feelings haven't stopped wandering.
I hear Jack enter our room, as I finish up my makeup, my body instantly tenising up, taking a deep breath I make my way out the bathroom. Grabbing my jacket, my back turned to him, there's so many things I want to say to him but I keep them to myself. 
I can feel Jack making his way closer to me, his front facing my back, his hand sliding on my waist. 
“Baby” he quietly says, the sound of his voice making me nervous. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, my eyes beginning to water again. Our eyes locked, I can tell he's been crying. I want to reach out to him, but i don't, scared of his reaction. 
Jack's hand is still on my waist, pulling me slightly closer to him. I'm the first to speak, I can't handle the silence anymore. “I'm going to run a few errands, I'll be back in a few hours. Text me if I need anything "I say softly, looking at the ground.
“I want to talk” Jack speaks again, I internally scoff at him, so now you want to talk. 
“I don't want to talk to you right now jack.” I say, making my way towards the bedroom door. Jack followed behind me, “that's a little childish don't you think? walking away, when i'm trying to talk to you” he says a little louder this time.
Anger is flowing through my veins, hot angry sad tears are now falling down my cheeks. “You don't get to speak to me like that.'' I say a wip my body around to face him. “You don't get to decide when we talk, or when I want to talk to you! '' I say with a voice full of venom. “You didn't want to talk 45 minutes ago, when I tried to talk to you. So yes jack, I am walking away. I have things to do. I don't want to be around someone who treats me like shit when I’m trying to be there for them” 
My voice is losing its battle of being strong, my emotions are winning, as my voice begins to trail off. I'm not stopping there, quick to cut off jack as he opens his mouth. 
“Actually, we are going to talk now.” I say, throwing my jacket on the ground. “I am trying my best to be the best I can for you right now. As much as you won't admit it, you need me right now, you're so stubborn that you won't let me. Let me be there for you, let me help you, we are in this together, stop acting like you are doing this alone.” 
“I know this is hard on you in so many ways, I'll never know what you're going through, but let me be there, talk to me. This isn't easy on me either, seeing the person you love the most in pain and you can't help them.” I'm beginning to sob at this point, trying my best to get everything out that I want to say. I'm not sure if I'll have the strength to do it again. 
Taking a few steps, to stand in front of Jack, grabbing his face in my hands, tears also streaming on his face. He leans into my touch this time, instead of pulling away. 
“I love you so much, don't push me away, please.'' I say staring in his eyes, looking for a response. Instead of words, Jack pushes his lips to mine, the kiss surprising me, knocking me off my feet almost. My hands never leave his cheeks, our mouths moving in sync, in a passionate kiss. 
Jack pulled away first, lips swollen, our chests both rising. “I'm so sorry” Jack begins “ I'm so grateful for your help and love during all of this” “this” he gestures to his shoulder which is sitting strapped up in a brace. “This is dragging me down. I hate it. I can't do anything for myself, i feel so bad when i ask for help im scared that I'm annoying you.” he says, “you'll never annoy me, Jack.'' I say while running my finger under his eyes, wiping away the tears. 
“Thank you for being here for me. I do need you, I'll always need you.” he finishes, before I have the chance to speak, jack is reconnecting our lips.
 Walking us back towards the bed, where he sits on the edge, his free arm urging me to sit on his lap. I pull away quickly, “ Jack, I can't. I don't want to hurt you” 
“You wont hurt me baby, what's hurting me is you not being on my lap, kissing me. Now get up here” he says with a smirk, pulling my body down to rest on top of his. 
Once I'm settled safely on his lap, Jack immdentially pulls my face down, to reconnect our lips together. 
Our makeout session is picking up, our hips grinding together, lips moving frantically together, jacks tongue slipping into my mouth, clashing with mine.
We haven't been this close in awhile, I've missed his body, his lips on mine. With another roll of my hips, Jack pulls his lips back groaning, throwing his head back.
Giving me the perfect access to his brace free shoulder, kissing and sucking on exposed skin of his neck. His grip on my waist tightening as our bodies move together. 
“Baby, I need more. Please.” Jack whines out to me, “I need to see you, I want to feel you, please, please” 
I pull back from his neck, his eyes filled with desperation. “Are you sure? I don't think we should, your shoulder, I don't want to hurt you jack.” I can see his heartache when I say those words to him. 
“Baby, I'm okay. I need you so badly, fuck” he says breathlessly as he beings to move our hips together again. I moan, as Jack connects our lips again, his hand sliding under my shirt, urging me to pull it off. In a quick motion I pull it above my head, leaving me in my bra. 
“Off. off. I want it off baby '' Jack says pulling at the straps of my bra. I reach behind me to unclip it, throwing it somewhere behind me. 
Jack is quick to grasp one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and lightly biting it, the sensation causing me to moan out from above him. “Fuck Jack, yes fuck.” our hips moving at a quicker space, the dampness between my legs growing by the second, I can feel Jacks bulge swell benenth me. 
“Jack.” I moan out as he sucks and licks both of my breasts. “Jack i need more fuck, but i dont want to hurt you.'' I whimper. “I know baby I can feel it” he says in between the kisses his trailing up my neck. An idea pops into my head as his lips are about to meet mine again, I pull away. “move and sit up against the headboard.” I say to him, Jack's eyes widen in surprise. 
I get off of him, and he quickly makes his way to the top of the bed, his back resting against the headboard.
I began to unzip my jeans, pulling them down my legs along with my underwear, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I began to crawl to Jack on the bed. I reached him, grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down his legs, leaving him bare. 
I take in his state, eyes swimming with lust and love, pupils blown, chest falling, lips swollen. He looks beautiful, brace and all.
Wasting no more time, I sit myself back down on his lap, his cock resting warm and hard against my inner thigh. “Hi” I said to him, “Is that what you wanted? Want me to kiss everything better?” I say, grabbing the base of his cock, lifting up so I can align myself with him.
Without warning I sink down on Jack's cock, the both of us groaning at the same time. I'll never get used to the way Jack feels inside me, the burn between my thighs feels dealicious, I want more. I need more. 
“Fuck baby.” Jack whines out, his free hand grabbing my waist harshly. “I need you to move please.” “like this?” I say as I raise up slightly and slide back down on his cock.
“Yes, like that baby, fuck. More. More.” Jack says as he's looking up at me, so desperate and needy. 
I decide I'll stop tourchoring the both of us, as I lift off of him completely and sink down again. The action causing me to throw my head back in pleasure. “Fuck jack you feel so good” i say as I begin to ride at him at a slow pace. 
“Faster, fuck” jack groans from below me, getting tired of the pace he begins to thrust his hips to mine. 
“Right there jack please”. The angle of this thrusts hits my clit perfectly, causing shock waves to crash through my body. I can feel myself beginning to get tired, needing something to grab on too. 
Grabbing the headboard behind Jack, I lift myself off of him, and sink back down, putting all of my weight into the headboard, to create more leverage. 
The new movement causes my whole body to shutter. glancing below me, Jack's head is leaning back against the headboard, eyes closed, mouth open moaning below me.
As if he can feel me looking at him, he opens his eyes, pushes himself off the head board and takes my left nipple into his mouth, his eyes remain on mine. 
I began to speed up my movements, causing the whole bed to move below us. 
“Fuck right there baby.” Jack moans out to me, his hand moving from my waist to the back of my neck pulling it down to connect our lips. 
Moans spilling out between the both of us, I can feel the coil starting to build in my stomach, as our hips meet. 
“Jack fuck” i moan out i a throw my head back, now resting my hands on his hips. 
“I can feel you clintching around fuck baby.” “im almost there fuck” slamming myself harder down on his cock. 
Jack trailing his hand down the front of my body, stopping where we’re connected, his fingers finding my clit instantly, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers. 
“Oh my god, fuck” I drop my head to jacks neck, still working myself against him.
“Don't stop, don't stop.” I yell out to him, I can feel my legs beginning to shake
“Baby I'm about to cum.” Jack lifts his hand from my clit, forcely grabbing the back of my head, smashing our lips together, teeth and tongues clashing. 
One last snap of our hips, and I'm cumming. My head dropping to Jack's shoulder, incoherent things are falling from both our lips as we chase our highs together.
After a few seconds I gained enough strength to pull myself up. I can feel Jack's hand rubbing up and down my back. 
I sit back enough to fully look at him. Our chests falling quickly, trying to catch our breaths.  “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.'' Jack says to me, his hand moving to push hair out of my face. “Did so good for me baby” I smile at him, before I'm quickly pulled back into reality when I remember his shoulder.
“Jack. your shoulder” i say frantically, “are you hurt? I knew we should have done this. Oh god "I say as I'm trying to push myself off of him quickly. 
“Hey hey, baby I'm fine.” Jack says as he grabs a hold of my face, his eyes locked with mine. “Hell, I'm more than fine. I'm great, all because of you” he smiles fully at me. 
My nerves settle a little, as I look over at him to make sure he's actually okay. Jack laughs at my concern as his face follows my movements. “Baby i promise i'm okay” he chuckles out to me again.
“Okay sorry, for caring about you.” I sigh dramatically out to him. “Hey now, none of that” he says, pulling my face closer to his again. 
“Come kiss me better.” he whispers out before connecting our lips. 
311 notes · View notes
niningtori · 1 day
Text
supermodel | part two
part one
pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: after finding out one of your closest friends sabotaged your relationship with beomgyu in hopes of having him all to herself, you end up spending a night with him. you may come to regret it when you realize beomgyu may not have been as innocent as he initially seemed.
genre: romance, angst, MELODRAMA, yandere, smut (MDNI!!!)
warnings: MDNI!!! yandere!gyu (super manipulative!gyu at least), more (justified imo) cheating, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, pregnancy kink, voyeurism (ig?), dom!gyu, sub!gyu, if i'm missing anything lmk
word count: 6.2k
notes: alright ;_; after much debate i'm reposting this probably only for a few days just so everyone who wanted to read can read it before i (probably) delete again! posting this made me feel rlly insecure for some reason but thanks to my moots and anons i feel a lot better ab it :) at least for a little bit. also, i know the direction may have taken quite the turn but this is genuinely just how it came out 😭 if you don't like it i'm sorry ( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ )
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it’s hard to reason with beomgyu as he presses hot kisses down your neck, but it’s not like you’re not trying. you think you’re trying really hard, actually, but it’s nothing in comparison to the effort he’s putting in to make you lose your mind. you have no control over your moans when he sucks a hickey into your neck. you feel heat pooling in your stomach as he grabs your ass and snakes his other hand up your hoodie to catch one of your hardened nipples between his fingers. he’s finally tasted you and, like a man starved, he’ll be damned before someone takes away what’s his.
“b-beomie, we can’t! let’s go back to my place, at least,” you try to reason, but your resolve is weakening as you feel your pussy wetten under his caresses. 
“shh, hana’s not gonna be home tonight,” he whispers. “just want you so bad, can’t wait.” he looks so earnest, you can’t bear to part from him. his puppy eyes look devastated, so what else can you do besides relent? and he knows it, too. now he’s got you. 
he leads you to hana’s bedroom, where he’s spent countless nights listening to her talk about how much she loves him, has loved him for years. he wants to roll his eyes at this, but he doesn’t want you to misunderstand, so he keeps it to himself. he’ll admit, she really did pull the wool over his eyes when she said you didn’t like him, so he can’t wait to see her reaction when she realizes you two have finally figured it out. if she wants to play dirty, they can both try their hand and see who wins. 
and it feels an awful lot like he’s winning when he sees you undress once again, body bare with traces of him on every part of you. even if he hadn’t marked you up so much, and he has, there’s still evidence of his impact on you leaking out of your pussy. you letting him come inside was truly unexpected, but welcome, nonetheless. he knows, when you’ve sobered up from your lustful daze, you’ll ask him if he’s ever fucked hana raw. you’ll probably cry again and rush to get plan b, but he’ll tell you he’s not stupid. he’d never fuck anyone without protection, especially someone he likes as little as he likes hana. he just likes you so much, he couldn’t help but want to feel you. you’re everything he dared to wish you would be. even better, actually, and now that he’s tasted you, he never wants to stop. 
the feeling of wanting to be close to you reemerges when he sees you dropping to your knees for him. you fiddle with the zipper of his pants and he sighs when cool air meets his bare cock. and you're so perfect with your makeup smudged, hair in disarray, and mouth open, prettily presented for fucking.
you start with a lick of your lips and he’s already rock hard from the anticipation. you grab his base and tease little licks up and down his length. he never thought he’d be particularly into that, really, but you look so hungry for him it makes him whine. finally, you lick the precum off of his tip and he moans when you shallowly take in the tip of his cock, hollowing out your cheeks. you bob your head shallowly and it’s taking every ounce of self control he has not to grab the back of your head and shove himself down your throat. but he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he lets you tease him. for now, at least. you take more and more of him into your warm mouth until you can feel his tip searing the back of your throat. you can’t possibly fit all of him into your mouth, so you take the rest of him in your hands. you look up at him with watery eyes, almost like you’re asking for his approval, and his already thinning patience snaps. he grabs your hair and pumps himself in and out of you. you try to meet his thrusts with teasing swipes of your tongue, never once breaking eye contact. the combination of your gaze and the sight of your drool mixed with his precum dripping out of your mouth drives him crazy. 
“baby, look, you’re drooling all over my cock.” you hum in agreement, but a nasty thought crosses his mind as he remembers that you almost went out with another man tonight.
“mmm, who taught you how to use that slutty little mouth?” he asks, riling himself up for reasons unknown. the thought of someone else seeing you like this is enough to push him to madness. he fucks himself into your mouth mercilessly. you’re coughing and slobbering all over his cock, but it’s only when hot tears pour down your face that he registers what he’s doing. how can he bear to hurt you? he pulls out and you’re gasping for air. 
“shh, it’s okay, you’re okay. c’mere,” he coos, leading you to the bed.
you lay down shakily and he takes a moment just to admire your body and the work he’s done to it. he can’t control the want in his gaze when he sees your pussy dripping on hana’s comforter. it’s sick to see, in a way, but it excites him even more. 
“turn around,” he commands, and you would, you really, really would, but your limbs feel so weak, it’s a chore. he sighs and roughly turns you on your stomach himself. he manhandles you into kneeling on all fours and it’s all you can do not to buckle under such force, but you can’t deny the way it makes your pussy clench around nothing when he does this. as if he can read your mind, he lets out a soft laugh as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes himself in. you’ve obviously just fucked, but you’re still as tight and hot as the first time. slowly, he feels you stretch and spasm to accommodate his length – pussy gripping him like a vise. he shakes when he feels himself completely sheathed in you. 
“g-good girl,” he praises. “so good for me.” then, without giving you another moment to adjust, he begins thrusting into you. his hips meet your ass and he’s awestruck by the sight of it as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix relentlessly. as he’s pumping into your heat, you don’t mean for your arms to give out from under you, but they do. he’s just fucking you so good you can’t help but feel weak. he chuckles at how you’re becoming undone after just a few strokes, but truthfully? he’s endeared. you were so brave in talking back to him earlier, but that attitude is completely gone as you lay there and let him take you over and over again. 
“nghh… not so hard, beomie,” you moan. 
“is it good, baby? i can feel you milking my cock. tell me it’s good, or i’ll stop,” he threatens.
“mmm, ‘s good! too good!”! you cry.
you’re so busy moaning out beomgyu’s name with your face mashed in the pillows, you really don’t hear the apartment door open and keys being thrown carelessly on the table, but as for beomgyu? he hears it all and it brings a mean, lopsided grin to his face. you’d think he would, at the very least, slow down, but he only rams harder and harder into you. the sound of wetness and skin slapping skin echo throughout the room. hana really wasn’t supposed to be home, this much is true, but what beomgyu didn’t tell you is that she had texted him saying her plans have changed and that he should come over. truly, he couldn’t have conjured up a better outcome than the one unfolding before him.
“beomgyu?!” hana shrieks. you’re so surprised you nearly jump out of beomgyu’s grasp, but he holds your ass in place as he continues his thrusts.
“don’t listen to her, just feel me,” he says in a raspy tone. and what can you do besides listen when he drills himself even harder into you? when you feel the veins of his cock dragging against your insides, you’re tuning out hana’s desperate cries, intentionally or not.
“coming inside, okay?” he, well, you would say ‘asks’, but it’s more of a statement of fact rather than a question. “take it all, baby,” he says as his hips begin to stutter. he smacks your ass — just because he can — and you feel it pulsate throughout your entire body as you clench around him, seeing nothing but white behind your eyelids as your release finally comes along with his.
you’re gasping for air when you finish. he carefully pulls out and watches as your cum and his mix together in the most sinful way. it’s a truly a sight to see, and if he had more time, he would be whipping out his phone and capturing the moment to revisit the next time he’s alone, but hana’s words are cutting into his bliss before he can fully appreciate the sight before him.
“b-beomie? w-what’s going on?” hana asks, tears streaming unabashedly down her pretty face. beomgyu is far too preoccupied to appreciate them, though, as he gently helps you sit up and thoughtfully wipes the drool and tears off of your face. 
“‘what’s going on?’” he begins mockingly. “do you really need me to show you again?” he sneers. 
meanwhile, you feel like a deer in headlights as you meet hana’s gaze. you feel dirty and small as you try your damndest to cover yourself up. hana’s soft eyes harden while she stares at you. 
“you. you did this, you fucking slut,” she spits. you break your gaze and stare down at your naked body. you feel incredibly vulnerable because, as you already know, she’s right. you feel your eyes heat up with tears, this time from guilt and humiliation rather than pleasure.
“you’d better watch your fucking mouth,” beomgyu says, eyebrows furrowed and voice even deeper than usual. 
“i just don’t understand. why? why her? and how could you do this to me? you said you loved me!” she shrieks, grabbing beomgyu’s arm. he harshly pulls away and instead collects your sweats and hoodie. you can’t help but stare. he said he loved her then he turned around and fucked you? oh no. 
“well, i lied, if that’s not clear enough,” he shrugs, gingerly dressing you like you’re some kind of catatonic doll. and, right now, you might as well be as you let him do what he wants. his callous words don’t match his gentle actions and it’s making your brain short-circuit. 
“if and when he does the same shit to you,” she says, looking at you with more hurt than you’ve ever seen on a person, “don’t you fucking dare come crying to me. or any of our friends, actually. just wait ‘til they hear what you fucking did.” you shiver at her ominous words. she’s right, after all. beomgyu dropped her the second you showed interest in him, who’s to say he won’t do the same to you? sure, he’s acting lovey dovey now, but you’ve seen firsthand how quickly his tune can change. you’re absolutely fucked. it’s your word against hers, and with the evidence of your betrayal seeping into her sheets, you don’t like your odds. you can’t help but stare at beomgyu, and, as if he’s reading your mind, he says his next words patiently.
“i love you. i would never hurt you like this.” he loves you now? you continue to look at him doubtfully. his words seem cheap after hana’s unforgiving speech, and he realizes he’s losing you when you don’t respond. hana doesn’t stop there, though.
“if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he’ll do to you,” she laughs. hana is, objectively speaking, a lot more of a catch than you are. and to the very bitter end, she won’t let you fucking forget it.
“shut your fucking mouth!” he exclaims and she flinches, as do you. you’ve never seen him so angry and it’s enough to scare you. 
“... i should go,” you croak.
“yeah, you should,” hana ridicules. you do an incredibly shaky walk of shame as you quickly gather your things. 
“hey, wait!” he pleads, but you’re already booking it out of the door. he goes to run after you, but hana grabs him forcefully by his shoulder and he spins around to face her. you slam the door, not wanting to know what kind of makeup sex they will probably be having relatively soon. as soon as you’re gone, hana begins.
“are you fucking crazy? her, of all people?!” she hisses.
“i thought i told you to watch how you talk about her,” he says lowly. his eyes are so intense, she’s momentarily stunned, but he’s crazy if he thinks that’ll shut her up. perhaps to her eventual regret, she says her next words.
“if i tell everyone, she’ll be fucking ruined. she’ll have nobody after this.” 
“so?” 
“so, stay with me,” she says softly, while, to his disgust, grabbing his hands and pleading with him. “stay with me, and i won’t tell anybody.” she looks as pathetic as a dog right now, and her words make him laugh in her face.
“tell them,” he says. 
“w-what?” she sputters.
“tell them all. i want you to tell them how i fucked one of your best friends and got her pregnant. tell them how i fucked her raw in your own bed. go on, i’d love to see their reactions when they find out.” 
“you’re… you’re fucking crazy,” she gasps.
“maybe, but not crazy enough to stay with you,” he shrugs. “i got what i wanted, i don’t need you anymore.” for once, she shuts her mouth. the puzzle pieces finally fit together and her jaw drops in awe.
“you did this on purpose?” 
“maybe you’re not as dumb as you look,” he sneers, and with that, he zips up his pants and pats her cheek. “you were okay in bed, but that’s about it.” 
her tears are falling, but that does nothing to mar her beauty. still, his heart remains unfazed. 
“when she finds out, she’ll leave you,” she sobs.
“and who will she believe? her ex friend who’s out to get her, or me? the only person she has left? i’d love to see who she believes.” his words leave her in even more tears, but he does nothing to placate her. he just grabs his shit and slams the door behind him.
-
hana wastes no time in telling your friends about your scandal. your incoming texts range from “what the fuck is wrong with you” to “is it true?” to “you’d better not show your face to us again”.
you attempt to explain yourself, but to no avail. even if hana lied to you first, you committed the ultimate betrayal with a smile on your face. nobody wants to hear your sob story about your forbidden love with beomgyu. nobody, not even your best friend, dares to defend you now.
the one person who’s on your side has been texting you relentlessly, though. beomgyu’s insistence on making sure you’re okay does little to quell the uneasiness in your heart. hana’s words resound in your head. “if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he does to you.” you don’t want to give him that chance, but your resolve is weakening when you feel yourself becoming more and more isolated from the people you used to call your friends. 
for days, you don’t leave your house except to go to work. where else can you go? you don’t have anyone to go out with you anymore. still, beomgyu texts and attempts to call you through it all. his messages are all about how much he loves you, how much he misses you, how much he needs you. how much he promises to make things right with you and how you’re the only one he’s wanted all along. more and more, you feel yourself slipping away. even though you never respond, you still sift through his messages and it’s enough to bring smiles, no matter how small, to your face. he loves you, wants you, needs you. who else do you have in your life to say things like that to you? 
still, the thought of trusting him scares you to your bones. what if he does the same shit to you? you don’t have a support system anymore. you don’t have anybody to rely on when he inevitably hurts you in the same way. why wouldn't he, after all? you’re no match for the kind of girls who come his way. what happens when he gets sick of you and wants to fuck another girl in your bed? you’re stuck with these thoughts as you nurse a bottle of vodka, alone in your apartment with nobody but yourself. this is what you deserve, you think. 
a knock on your door is enough to pull you out of your drunken haze. is it one of your friends? could they have finally gotten over their intial shock and disgust and understood that you didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did? you stumble to the door and you’re too drunk to even think about checking who it is before desperately swinging open the door. you are not met with the familiar face of one of your friends, however. instead, you see the face of the boy who’s been haunting your dreams for the past few nights.
“beomgyu?” he looks absolutely devastated, eyes reddened and wet with his face ghostly pale. he reeks of alcohol and he stands almost tremblingly. he doesn’t respond to you, just stares at you with the same intensity that entranced you from the very beginning.
“what are you doing here?” you ask. 
“can i come in? please?” you’ve never been able to say no to him, and you especially can’t in his current pathetic state. you move from the doorway to allow him access and quietly shut the door behind him.
“what do you want?” you try.
“want you,” he sobs, tears finally flowing from his sad brown eyes. “only ever wanted you.” your heart aches when you see him like this. you thought hana’s reaction was devastating enough, but he looks absolutely wrecked right now, putting her despair to shame, really. 
“i don’t know what to say,” you admit. “we fucked up, plain and simple. and i don’t know how i can trust you after what we did.” you’re not a victim in this, to be clear, but you’re far too vulnerable to accept the heart that he's holding out for you so carelessly. 
“i know, and i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. what can i do to make you trust me?” he begs. your already soft heart softens even more at his words, but you have to be realistic.
“i… i don’t think i can. if you had just talked to me in the first place things could've been different,” you reason. this only puts the boy in an even worse state. he’s almost wailing now, and he looks to you for comfort.
“p-please, just please. give me one chance,” he cries, looking absolutely frantic. “i’ll prove it to you, just let me.” he reaches for your face and you didn’t even realize you’re crying until he swipes away your tears. well, you’re already going to hell. what’s the point in atoning for your sins now? 
as if he can read your mind, he musters up a shaky smile before leaning in and giving you a chaste kiss. his lips taste salty, but sweet, and he’s kissing you with a passion you’ve never felt before. you almost believe him when he says you’re the only one. almost.
“h-how do i know you’re not going to do the same thing to me?” you ask unsteadily. 
“i would never,” he says immediately. “i would never hurt you.” at least, not like this. but you don’t know that yet. 
-
in the weeks following his drunken appearance at your door, being with beomgyu is even better than you thought it would be. it’s like a switch has been turned back on and he’s back to treating you like a princess, almost like the months since your “breakup” never happened. he randomly brings you flowers, showers you with kisses, and he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you along with declarations of love, which you never directly reciprocate. no matter how well he treats you, though, there’s an underlying sense of unease. you still find it difficult to fully trust him, and he can tell. it’s driving him to the brink of madness trying to come up with ways to show you how much he cares.
you’re in the middle of pensively reevaluating the nature of your relationship with beomgyu for the 100th time when you hear a knock on your door. at this point, you don't even bother checking who it is because you already know it'll be beomgyu. no matter how desperately you wish it were one of your ex-friends, you’re always met with his face, instead. you open the door and you’re shocked, to put it mildly. standing before you is not the beomgyu you know and (probably) love, but hana.
“we need to talk,” she grumbles. almost as if you’re possessed, you let her in without much fuss. is she here to rekindle your friendship? to tell you she’ll forgive you after what you’ve done to her? 
“hana, listen i’m so incredibly sor—” 
“save it,” she says, lifting her hand. “i’m only here ‘cause i have something i need to say to you. it took me weeks to come here because i don’t even wanna look at you.” you gulp and nod, genuinely anxious as to what she has in store for you.
“i’m just going to tell you straight up. beomgyu’s not who you think he is,” she deadpans. 
“w-what do you mean?” if she’s talking about how he’ll eventually betray you, you’ve already thought of that. why she thinks this is news to you, you don’t know.
“listen to me, he planned this whole fucking thing.” what could she possibly mean by that? he planned to get caught by her? that doesn’t even make sense. “i told him i’d be home the night that i walked in on you.” your jaw drops in horror, but she continues as if she doesn’t notice.
“i think… i think he heard us over the phone and knew you’d be there before meeting with jay. he told me he wanted our friends to find out and to see who you’d believe if i told you. whether you believe me or not, i really don’t give a fuck, but it’s true. he said he got what he wanted, so he doesn’t need me anymore.” she chokes on her last words and you can't help but feel sorry for her, but that feeling is overshadowed by the feelings of anger towards beomgyu. you don’t think hana would lie about this. she looks so flustered and heartbroken, you don’t believe for a second that she’s lying just to rile you up. before you can reply, the door opens and beomgyu’s figure appears in your doorway. he has a smile on his face, but it drops lightning fast when he sees who’s standing there.
“what the fuck are you doing here?” he says with a scowl.
“i’m on my way out,” hana mumbles, pushing past him. he doesn’t even attempt to stop her. he registers the mixed emotions on your face and he can guess what she said to you without much effort.
“let me explain,” he says lowly, already heading towards you to placate you like you’re some sort of wild animal he has to coax. and you’re so angry, you might as well be.
“explain what? that you ruined my fucking life?” you spit. he flinches at your tone, even more so at your next words. “what i don’t understand is why? is my life a fucking game to you?” his face crumbles at this. 
“n-no! never!” he sputters.
“then what is this? what’s your reason for planning for hana to walk in us? is this a kink or something?” he shakes his head frantically. 
“you don’t understand, i just wanted it to be us,” he pleads. “i don’t like them. they’ll just try to take you away from me.” 
“take me away from them? beomgyu, i’m not some fucking toy. i’m a person. a person whose life you fucking ruined for no reason!” you exclaim. you’re so frustrated you could cry, so you do. does he not realize how badly he fucked you over? “you promised you’d never hurt me,” you sob.
“i-i did it for us! they wouldn’t care about how we feel… they’d just take hana’s side without even thinking about it!” he argues, grabbing your hands. you want to pull away, but if you do, that means you’ll be completely alone. 
“you didn’t even give them a chance,” you reason. “now it’s really over,” you say between sobs. “i… i could’ve talked to them, but you ruined it!” 
“i just want you all to myself, is that so bad?” he asks, as if he genuinely can't understand why you’re so upset. he’s actually sick in the head.
“why?!” you ask again, ripping your hands from his grasp.
“because i love you,” he says desperately. “i just love you so much. i’m sorry, i’ll never do anything like this again,” he promises. 
“yeah, you won’t,” you reply bitterly. “because i won’t give you that chance.” 
“w-what do you mean?” he asks, lips trembling and eyes red.
“i’m not doing this with you anymore. this whole thing was doomed from the start,” you reply firmly. he shakes his head as if denying it with fervor will undo what you’ve said, tears now flowing freely from his reddened eyes.
“no, p-please,” he cries. “i only did it because i love you so much. ever since i first saw you, i only ever wanted to be with you. i… i know i fucked up, but it was the only way. believe me, please.” your already soft heart is softening even more as you listen to the desperation in his voice. he sounds so lost and scared, as if he really doesn’t know what he’ll do if you tell him no. you briefly wonder if he’s ever heard the words: “no, beomgyu. you’ve gone too far this time.” but as you watch him come undone before you, you don’t think you’ll be able to be the one who tells him no, anyway. 
“i’m giving you one, and i mean one, last chance. if you fuck up this time, i promise you, you’ll never see me again,” you declare. you don't know what you’re expecting, really, but the sight of even more tears streaming down his face is not it. he grabs you and pulls you in his warm and trembling embrace.
“th-thank you,” he cries. “you won’t regret this.” 
“i’d better not,” you mumble. even if you do, you can’t deny the way your heart skips a beat at his pure, unadulterated need for you. even if you do come to regret it, it’s impossible to look at him right now and say he’s not being sincere. he pulls away from you and hurriedly captures your mouth, and as if your next words will take back what you said, he seals them in your throat before you can manage to get anything more out. as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel something hard and angry poking into your stomach.
“already?” you tease. he actually blushes at this.
“can’t help it. need you,” he replies sheepishly. 
“you need me, huh? is that why you’ve been so bad?” you ask, palming him deliciously through his pants.
“n-not bad! just love you so much, couldn’t stop myself.” your temper actually flares a little at this. you palm him more harshly and his breath catches when you do.
“really? but you’ve been so bad, i don’t think you deserve me,” you say menacingly, pulling your hand away. he audibly whimpers at this.
“no, no, no, please! i’ll be good from now on,” he pleads as he grabs your hand and begins to snake it under the waistband of his pants. you let him, but you don’t take his hardened length into your hand like you usually would. instead, you tease the sensitive area around it, even going so far as to ghost your fingers over his balls, but you conveniently avoid giving him any sort of friction or attention, so he’s gasping when you give him a mean and unexpected tug. 
“p-please stop teasing me,” he cries, eyes so beautiful and watery. “i know i’ve been bad, but i can make you feel so good.” he’s right, in a way. you’ve never and will never feel as good as you do when beomgyu pumps into you and shoots his hot load in your pussy, but he’s deranged if he thinks you’ll let him have you so easily tonight. not after what he’s done.
“hmm, i’m not so sure about that,” you hum. you lead him to your bedroom as if he’s hypnotized. you haven’t even let him enter you yet, if you’re going to let him do so at all, but he’s already acting like he’s drunk on you. 
“strip,” you command simply. without any questions or doubts, he eagerly takes off his hoodie and shoves his pants down, stepping out of them and closer to you. it’s sickeningly sweet to see how possessed he is by you. he tries to take your own clothes off, but you smack his hand away. 
“bad boy,” you say, and he whines like a dog. “lay down.” he does what you say, lying completely exposed on your bed as he gives a few pulls on his throbbing cock. “stop fucking touching yourself or you’re not getting anything from me,” you add, and he whines even louder. 
“please touch me,” he begs, cock standing all red and weeping. 
“you don’t deserve it,” you shrug. you take off your pants and he leches at the image of your pussy dripping wet for him, and so soon. all he can think about is how warm it is and how fervently he wants to be in it. he thinks you’re going to sit on his cock, because that would be the most natural course of action, but all you do is lay next to him and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. a vibrator. are you fucking serious? 
“no!” he begs, already knowing how this is going to go.
“you can take what you get from me or you can beat it,” you bite back. that shuts him up. he’s biting his lip, trying not to get scolded again, but he can’t help but whine again when you spread your legs and turn your vibrator on. 
“ah,” you moan as the rubber tip hits your clit. “feels so good.” 
“i’d feel better,” he insists, eyes widened and desperate like a madman. 
“touch yourself,” you say in response. “i'm not touching that dirty cock of yours, so take care of it yourself.” he doesn’t need to be told twice. he immediately spits on his hand and begins to wildly jerk his weeping cock. he whines at the friction. you, however, are so lost in the feeling of the vibrations pulsating throughout your pussy, you couldn’t seem to care less about what he does. this only makes him whine even louder. he’s experiencing pleasure, sure, but the sounds coming from him are exaggerated and theatrical. he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. he just wants you to look at him, is that too much to ask?
you open your eyes at his petulant noise and say your next words so quietly, if he wasn’t paying more attention, he’d miss them. “kiss me.” so he does. the kiss is filthy and nothing more than the tangling of tongues, but that combined with the stimulation on your poor pussy is enough to make you near the edge. 
beomgyu can tell you’re close, and his kisses become even more heated as he abuses his cock under his hand. he’s moaning into your mouth, showing you, in no uncertain terms, just how badly he wants to be in you instead. 
“let me do it,” he begs. “come around me, instead. it’ll feel so much better.” his dirty words break you out of your trance and you annoyedly shut the vibrator off while tossing it god knows where. you tear his hand away from his cock and mount him, teasingly rubbing yourself against him, but refusing to put it in. he whines and pouts, but you’re far too busy trying to get yourself off to appease him. then, as if he’s possessed, he raises his hips and his tip catches on your entrance. you both gasp at his shallow intrusion. 
“p-please sit on it, it hurts,” he asks rather pathetically. 
“i can’t, beomie. you haven’t even fingered me yet — you’ll break me in half,” you say provocatively. he whimpers at the imagery. “and you've been so bad, how can i let you get what you want? you’ll never learn if i do that.” 
“i’ve learned! i promise, i’ve learned! just, please, help me,” he cries, bucking his hips up and holding your waist so hard you’ll know he’ll leave bruises. 
“mmm, i don’t knowwww,” you drawl.
“please!” and with that, you angle your hips and begin to sink on his thick length. the stretch burns and you can’t help but cry out as you feel your pussy enveloping every inch of him mercilessly. he’s in tears when he feels you throbbing around him, pussy stretching to accommodate how big he is. when you finally, finally take him all in, he can’t help but begin to fuck into you wantonly. 
“b-beomie, slow down!” 
“c-can’t! feels so good,” he says, tears streaming down his pretty face. he grabs your waist even tighter and flips you around so you’re lying beneath him. his cock continues to hammer into you and you’re seeing stars. his mouth is open, drool pooling out of the corners of his lips, and he’s moaning out your name like a prayer.
“pussy so good, so perfect,” he babbles. “missed this. missed feeling you like this.” 
“i missed it too,” you admit. 
“wanted you, wanted you for so long,” he continues. you don’t even think he knows what he’s saying, but you can tell he means every word. he reaches to your stomach and presses down where his cock is ramming into you. your eyes roll back at the pleasure that comes with the pressure. 
“my baby could be in here,” he muses. “our baby.” this should scare you into sobriety, but it does nothing of the sort. you find yourself tightening even further at the thought of him breeding you like a bitch. 
“i’ll take care of you, i swear,” he says as he thrusts so hard your head nearly meets the headboard. “i’ll give you everything you need. sh-shit, baby, wanna fill you up so good you feel me for days,” those words in addition to his sloppy thrusts are what send you over the edge. you clench around him and he hisses at how you’re even tighter than usual. you feel his thrusts become even more sporadic and he’s emptying himself into you unceremoniously. as he softens, he pulls out and you wince at the feeling. to your surprise, he moves down to your pussy and begins to lap up all of the cum like a starving animal. then, he pulls you in for one last nasty kiss. 
-
you don’t know if you necessarily trust beomgyu, but it’s hard not to at least try to when he basically prostrates himself in front of you on a daily basis. he lets you walk all over him, really. if you call him, he comes running. if you’re mad or upset, he soothes you. when you’re being unreasonable, he reasons, anyway. you still haven’t heard from your friends, but you’re starting to accept the fact that you never will. he introduces you to his friends, and surprisingly, they actually welcome you with open arms. apparently, they didn’t like hana very much and knew beomgyu always had a thing for you. you’re not sure how to feel about that, but you’re flattered, nonetheless. 
you call beomgyu crazy, and maybe he is, but he always says it's because he's crazy in love with you. you want to playfully smack him when he says such cheesy words, but you're starting to really believe him.
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cariocake · 19 hours
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time quangle theory abt copperlady kipperking
she's doing a time loop, or has been doing one
she found the rogue teacher at 8:01 bc she spent a year or two looking last loop and just knew where to start
she's hated riz since freshman year for something he hasnt done yet or for something he's in the process of doing this year
she doesn't want oisin involved because last time it went wrong for him
maybe she keeps looping to prevent something from happening. maybe it's to stop ankarna. maybe the bad kids initially brought back ankarna and caused a disaster and thats why she hates riz gukgak. Maybe riz is the one who ran against her the first time
maybe she filled out lucy's paperwork to swap gods because she learned the gods name in an alternate timeline and it didnt break oblivati mori bc it hadn't happened yet
i really like the theory that she was impersonating jace when henry got yelled at. maybe last time henry got too involved and pulled ruben out before they could finish whatever it is theyre doing
maybe she's got her party grinding rats day in and day out bc the alternative missions were just as grindy and dull to her and at least this way she can guarantee they're safe
she just has the vibes of someone who thinks she knows exactly how the game is supposed to go and then gets mad when her speed run is ruined by a little chaotic rng (the bad kids)
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headkiss · 2 days
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I LOVE YOUR HOTCH FICS!!! <3 You write him so well, and I just adore how soft he is 🥺! I've read a fic where the author basically describes him as a Jane Austen hero, and I can't help but agree (what are you thoughts?)! Sooooo, is it possible to get a fic where Hotch reads to sick!reader to help her sleep? TYSM!
omg ur so right he is very much jane austen coded!!! tysm for requesting i hope u like it!!! | 0.7k of fluff, sick reader and gentle hotch <3
Aaron’s job isn’t one that allows him to take much time off of work, even when he wants to. You know it, and would never be angry at him for it, so when you wake up feeling a little too warm, you reassure him that you’ll be fine by yourself.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” He asks, already dressed in his suit and sitting on the edge of the bed by your waist. “I can if you want me to.”
Of course the only time he’d be eager to ask for a day off is when it’s in your favor. He doesn’t even call out when he’s the one who’s sick.
“No, you can’t, Aaron. They need you over there,” you say, hoping your smile is convincing enough. “I’m just gonna sleep this off. I’ll be fine.”
He sighs, reluctant to leave even though he sort of has to, even though he knows you can take care of yourself. He just hates not being the one to do so, anyways.
Hotch leans over to press a kiss to your heated cheek, “I’ll call you when I can to check in, okay?”
“You really don’t have to-”
“Let me do that, at least, sweetheart.”
“Okay.”
He kisses your cheek again and then stands to leave, pausing at the bedroom doorway to turn back and look at you one more time. You snake your hand out from under the sheets and give him a thumbs up.
Aaron calls you exactly five times throughout the day, most of them quick, couple-minute phone calls where he asks how you’re doing, if you’ve eaten. One of them during his lunch—which he rarely takes—and lasting nearly half an hour, him doing most of the talking.
The sun is close to setting by the time he gets home, where Aaron finds you curled up on the couch in the comforter from your bed, your skin clammy, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead.
His heart aches a little bit at the sight, because he knows you’ve been downplaying how sick you feel all day to keep him from worrying, as if anything could.
Hotch walks over to the couch, crouching in front of where your head is propped up on a pillow. “Sweetheart.”
“Hi, Aaron.”
He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning at how warm you feel. “Why didn’t you tell me you have a fever? You should be in bed.”
“Got too warm in there, then too cold out here, so I took the comforter. Hope that’s okay.”
The medicine you took hours ago hasn’t done much other than make you a little groggy, and it’s clear in the way you speak with your cheek still squished to the pillow, your eyelids heavy.
Aaron’s hand is still on your forehead, like he can will your fever away with his touch. “Have you slept? Are you hungry?”
You shake your head, “don’t really feel like eating.”
“You should,” he says. “How about I run you a bath and make you some soup? Then bed.”
“Okay, doctor Hotchner.”
He shakes his head, though the small smile on your face as you tease him makes him smile, too. Even feeling poorly, you manage to brighten his day. A ray of sunshine.
He does exactly as promised, and after a bath and a generous bowl of soup that Hotch made sure you finished, you’ve got your head in his lap, his hand gently pushing your hair back.
Looking down, Aaron finds you still awake, blinking up at him lazily. “Aren’t you tired?”
“It’s been hard to sleep,” you say, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “Will you read to me?”
“Sure, sweetheart. Pick a book.”
You choose, and whine when he gets up to go get it even though he’s back in a matter of seconds. With your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh once again, he starts reading to you.
You’ve always loved Aaron’s voice, the way it sounds when he speaks to you, the low and calm tone that seems to wash over you. He’s using a gentle voice now, a quiet one that you love even more because it’s one he saves for you. Intimate and lovely.
It’s only with his hand in your hair and his voice in your ears that you’re finally able to fall asleep.
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oharaslover · 13 hours
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i bet on losing dogs
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part two of congratulations
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: more angst (to nobody’s surprise), clothed grinding, and masturbation (f)
synopsis: after going through a toxic cycle with his ex girlfriend, miguel learns that maybe he does deserve some type of love in his life.
author’s note: hi guys 😋 (with the intention you don’t hate me after this part)
word count: 6.4k
I always want you when I'm finally fine
Miguel had you placed in his lap, his lips ghosting on your neck in only a way that he was familiar with. His fingers gripped on your hips, moving you against his clothed crotch. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to yourself. The touch of him was consuming you completely, but the fact was that you wanted nothing more but to be completely absorbed by him.
You were fueled by the desperation of almost losing him, your body practically melting as his hands travelled over your body. It felt like he was exploring you for the first time, his fingers ghosting across every expanse and curve of your body. "You were always so beautiful," the sudden whisper by your ear had goosebumps forming all over your arms. He had a smile plastered on his face, the type of smile that allowed you to see the slight imperfection in his teeth. The one that you loved so much.
"I missed you," you didn't recognize your own voice, you were breathless. So affected by so little. "Yeah, what'd you miss about me?" his tone carried a teasing tone, his lips on your collarbone to leave a couple marks on there. Marks that conveyed that you still, undoubtedly, were his. You placed your hands on his shoulders, using that as leverage as you rubbed your aching cunt onto his thigh. "I missed everything about you. Your besitos, your back rubs, and the way you fuck me," you managed to get out, finding it difficult to form any actual sentences now.
"That's it, use me however you need to," he whispered against your skin, his tongue licking a stripe down your neck. The contact had you shivering, your cunt brushing up against the tent in his pants. Your hips swiveled as you moved against him, the friction stimulating your clit. "You're gonna cum from just my lap, hermosa? ¿Me extrañastes tanto?" his voice took on a taunting tone as he saw you squirm in his lap, getting close to your orgasm. All you could do was nod to his question, biting your lip to stifle any moans that were threatening to come out.
(you missed me that much?)
"You know I'll always wait for you, right?"
Now that part had gotten too unrealistic for your own sake. You opened your eyes, a discarded pizza box in the middle of your hotel bed and a vintage science fiction movie from the 20's playing on the television. If only you could've convinced yourself to stay in that dream for just a little bit longer. At least so you wouldn't have to deal with the insistent throbbing in between your legs.
Strings of slick connected your cunt to your panties when you slid them down, your walls clenching around thin air for some kind of friction. Maybe a cold shower would help? You weren't exactly responsible for your water consumption if it ended taking too long. You stripped off your pajamas, getting in the shower and closing the glass door behind you.
Your hand ghosted down to your vagina, your fingers running against your folds before you stuck one inside. Damn it. Despite the fact that you knew what made your body tick, you just couldn't find relief. Not when the dream was in the forefront of your mind. Not when you could practically feel his touch on your skin, leaving you all too desperate as you tried to imagine that your hands were his instead. You brought up your free hand to your hardened nipple, pinching it between your pointer and middle finger.
It was almost comical the way that your fingers left you feeling much more empty than when you started this whole ordeal. Another reminder that Miguel wasn't here. You shortly established a rhythm, pushing your fingers in and out on your cunt to get off. Your bottom lip was captured in between your teeth as you resisted the urge to moan, like people hadn't done more obscene things in these hotels. The cold water hit your clit, the swollen nub throbbing for some kind of stimulation as you worked yourself open.
You applied some pressure to your neglected clit, ranging from rubbing it in small circles to pinching it in between your fingers. Anything that would make this end. You chased the all too familiar feeling, the coil inside you tightening up before snapping in half. Your slick coated your fingers as you came, the cold water a stark contrast to how ignited your body felt right now. As much as you tried to convince yourself on the walk over to this hotel that you needed to get over him, you didn't know how you would even begin to start with that process.
You hated feeling this way, unable to get over Miguel. But in a way, how could you when everything just felt so unfinished between the two of you? Even before you left for California, the time between the two of you had been too short.
You leaned your body against the cold shower tiles, closing your eyes as the after effects of your orgasm washed out. Despite the fact that the throbbing between your legs was gone, you couldn't ignore the way your heart clenched at just the memory of tonight. 'Fiancée' kept running through your mind, how the man who seemingly had no intention of settling down was now about to become somebody's husband. Maybe you should've just gone back to sleep.
You truly hated Miguel O'Hara.
You hated his stupid crooked teeth. The way that his cheeks curved up when he was actually amused by something. His stupid geneticist jokes. The way that he seemed to know your body better than yourself, working you like an instrument with every single encounter. How his eyes only seemed to be reserved for you in every event, like you were the only one worthy of being looked at by him.
But most of all, you hated the way that your stupid, bleeding broken heart only seemed to beat for him.
"You could've told her the truth instead of letting her mope around the place like a kicked puppy," Tempest told Miguel as the two of them stepped into their shared apartment. He didn't need much more specification on who she was talking about, not when most of his attention had been on you for most of the night. The way that your emotions were so clear to see despite the smile that you forced on your face. How he wanted to kiss that little frown off your face.
Tell you that's it's always just been you.
He undid the buttons of his shirt, sitting down on the couch to take off his shoes. "Her and I were never anything serious, I don't have any reason to explain things to her," was the same excuse that he gave himself over and over to justify why he kept this a secret for so long. Tempest let out a scoff, but she didn't add much more to that as she slid her heels off. He itched to go and help her, but he knew he'd probably get a heel thrown at his head if he did.
Tempest went over to her own bedroom, making a beeline to switch out of the clothes that she'd chosen for the night before going back over to the living room. "Take it from the dying person. There's nothing selfish about wanting your own happiness," she told him, walking past his bedroom to head into the living room once more. Now there was food for thought. Prioritizing his own happiness instead of trying to fix the things around him. A thought that he didn't want to entertain right now.
He headed out of his room after changing out of his clothes, rubbing his eyes as he headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. "You would've been a decent poet," he steers the conversation into safe territory, conversation that didn't involve how he was feeling. "Not really. I was gonna pursue something in sports, maybe in sports medicine," she responded, walking over to the kitchen where he was standing. Tempest was fairly decent at discerning when he wanted to drop a subject, so she decided on doing just that.
"Goodnight, Miguel," Tempest spoke up after a while, her body exhausted from the events of the day. She'd skipped out on her daily nap to go to the party with him, her body facing the consequences now. Not that she'd ever voice any concern though, not when she was getting free food and a free place to stay. As well as access to low cost healthcare.
"Good night. Let me know if you need anything," Miguel told her, passing her a bottle of water so she'd be able to take her night pills. Tempest looked over at her pill box reluctantly, taking out the small capsules before gulping them down. No matter how many times she swallowed the pills, the process of keeping them down never got any easier. Tempest gave him a small thumbs up, heading over to her bedroom and closing the door behind her. Not that he'd miss any movement that she made with the thin wall separating them anyways.
Miguel laid down in bed with one hand behind his head, his gaze directed at the ceiling like it would reveal some kind of magical answer to him. He had no actual responsibility to stay loyal to you, yet he knew that if the roles would've been reversed that he would've lost his shit. That he would've gotten down on his knees and begged you to reconsider, reconsider the happy moments that the two of you had together. Albeit, most of them short and temporary but still sweet.
He was doing this to help out Tempest. Yet, she showed more interest in having him be with you than he did. She probably felt guilty for being stuck in such a predicament with him, the thought backed up by the one time she'd asked him what he got out of this. He wasn't completely sure what he got out of this arrangement, really, but he knew was that some part of him felt inclined to.
One of the things that he did know was that he needed to see this through after what he’d promised her.
"Ay mierda," he muttered to himself, trying to shake the remaining salt out of the container. A couple specks fell onto the chicken he was cooking, barely enough to cover a millimeter of it. He turned down the heat on the stove, going over to his cupboard to rummage for some extra salt. He had everything in there, an assortment of oregano, paprika, cumin and yet, no extra containers of salt. He looked over at the electronic clock on his wall, trying to discern if he had enough time to go to the grocery store before realizing he had work in an hour.
The idea of potentially bothering his neighbor was almost enough to get him to turn around but he decided to stick it out. What was the worst that could happen, anyways? That they turned out to be a serial killer and his knock on the door was the last thing that they needed to snap? Fat chance. "Just ask for some salt. It can't be that bad, right?" he muttered to himself, looking over at the door as he brought his hand to knock. He swallowed back some of his nervousness, forcing himself to bring his hand over to the wood.
Miguel knocked on his neighbor's door, tapping his foot as he waited for an answer. Sounds of scuffling could be heard inside but the door remained closed. He knocked once more, hoping that this one would warrant some type of answer. "It's not a marketer or something, just your neighbor! I just need some salt!" he called out, realizing afterwards that he probably looked like a maniac shouting in front of a door. The thought of someone passing by and seeing him like this immediately made him press his lips together and wait in silence.
Miguel accepted defeat after waiting for an answer for a couple more seconds, heading back to his apartment. He didn't have enough time to rush out to get more salt without risking being late for work, deciding instead to just go ahead and make himself a microwave dinner. "Wait, sorry," he heard behind him, turning around to see his neighbor poking her head out through the door. Well, at least she didn't look like a serial killer. Still, he wouldn't let his guard down just yet.
"I have a bit of extra salt. You can come inside while I go get it," his neighbor continued, opening the door a bit wider just to let him in. The space was much more different to his own, much more full of ambiance and personality. While he used his apartment as just a place to sleep in whenever he came back home from Alchemax, he could tell that his neighbor had spent the time in making sure that this apartment was well loved.
His eyes darted down to the multiple bills scattered around in her kitchen table, his curiosity getting the better of him. Cancer treatment bills. None of them which lowered from the thousands. Tempest came back with the container of salt in hand, rushing to scoop up the papers before he saw too much. A couple of them flailed past her grip, slowly swaying from side to side before falling on the floor. Not that it helped, he already got the basic idea. Most of those were past their due date.
"Your insurance doesn't cover for some of it?" He knew he should've kept his mouth shut by the way Tempest immediately shot him a glare, but he just couldn't help himself. A part of him couldn't help but worry about the type of cancer treatment she was receiving, if any at all. Tempest let out a small huff, her arms folded across her chest. She was trying to put on a tough persona, but Miguel was able to look past that.
"I don't have insurance after I had to quit my job. I'm not exactly eligible for any services either so it's been purely out of pocket. Hence the whole bills on the table thing," Tempest finally spoke after she realized that her glare wasn't affecting Miguel the way she intended.
"Well.. my work offers insurance to those couples who live together and married couples. The guarantee for it working when you're married is much higher," he spoke up after a while, leaning behind one of her kitchen seats. To think he came over for a bit of salt and now he was making a whole wedding proposal. "Should've left you outside to get your own salt," Tempest muttered, almost laughing at how insane the situation sounded. Getting married just to get the treatment she desperately needed.
"You know, people technically get married out of love. Out of convenience, maybe. But just for insurance purposes?" Tempest brought up the topic, her arms folded as her gaze scrutinized him. As hard as she tried, she couldn't figure out why he was doing this. For a stranger, of all things. A part of her felt that this wasn't just from the kindness of his heart.
"You're acting like that isn't a marriage of convenience."
"Nobody's gonna believe that we suddenly just want to get married."
"Nobody else matters."
Tempest continued to throw out a couple of excuses to try to scare away Miguel from the prospect, getting met with rather simple solutions to her concerns. Damn it, as much as she hated to admit it, he was pretty decent at convincing her of this idea.
While you were in the shower last night, you'd gotten a message from Gabriel asking if you wanted to come over to his place. To which you agreed to eagerly. You were planning on watching romance movies for the day while shitting on them for the unrealistic expectations they set, maybe ordering a bottle of wine and pizza if you were feeling up to it.
"You couldn't have told me that you were planning on staying in Nueva York from now on?" his voice called out from the kitchen, Romeo Santos' 'Imitadora' playing in the background. He lowered the volume on his speaker when he listened to your footsteps approach, setting down the knife he had in hand. He was in a much better state than you'd expected, you were expecting to find him in a bathrobe with sunglasses on after the copious amounts of tequila he'd had last night.
"And you couldn't have told me Miguel was engaged? I almost made a fool out of myself," you countered, leaning against the counter as the different spices filled your nose. A mixture of adobo and garlic sizzling on a piece of meat he had on the stove. "You always make a fool out of yourself, though. Remember that one time you fell at the pool during my 21st birthday?" he retorted, leaning against the kitchen counter with an amused smirk on his face.
How could you not. You'd gotten more drunk than Gabriel that night, mixing up all different types of alcohol in an adventurous pursuit. You'd drunkenly called Miguel to pick you up after the night was over, stumbling over your feet when you walked over to his car. The two of you drove around most of Nueva York, though all the buildings blurred together in your inebriated state. One of the best memories that you had despite the throbbing headache that followed the next day.
The two of you ended up at a greasy burger spot on the skirts of town, though that burger had tasted like a slice of heaven the minute that it touched your tongue. You didn't remember that much about the event itself, but you could remember the overwhelming amount of safety that you felt with him. How comfortable he made you feel in his presence. How he entertained every single of your stupid remarks without much resistance, even adding onto it at times.
He'd taken off your heels and changed your clothes into something more comfortable, showing no reluctance to do so. "Shh, it's okay sweet girl. You just drank too much," he whispered in your ear, his hand rubbing small circles as you were leaned over the toilet throwing up. "I'm never touching another glass of tequila again," you groaned, a lie to both yourself and Miguel. He continued to rub your back throughout the ordeal, staying by your side through it all. "Yeah, I'm sure you won't," he remarked, handing you a napkin once you were done.
Every memory that you had in Nueva York was tainted in some way by Miguel O'Hara.
"I didn't think the two of you had anything serious going on anymore, I'm sorry. I would've said something otherwise," Gabriel finally said, adding in the tomato that he'd cut along with the onion slices. Fair point. You didn't really have a reason to expect anything, not when you and Miguel were just sleeping around with no semblance of commitment. "Nah, it's fine. I shouldn't have expected that he'd just be here waiting for me," you responded, glancing over at the stove as he cooked.
You looked down at your phone, a notification ping bringing your attention to it. You weren't expecting to see a message from Miguel, surprised at the fact that he still even had your number. Your eyebrows practically shot up to your forehead upon reading the contents of the message, an invitation to his engagement party with Tempest. You debated on not going but you looked over at Gabriel and asked,
"Hey, how do you feel about going to Miguel's engagement party as my plus one?"
Tell your baby that I'm your baby
You weren't sure who was the bigger idiot in this situation. Miguel for inviting you to his engagement party or you for actually accepting it. As much as you were willing yourself to be mature throughout this situation, you didn't have this much maturity in you. His apartment was adorned in a mix of gold and yellow, a couple streamers hanging off the walls and a couple balloons bouncing around. "Maybe we should go. Get some food at the bodega," you suggested, looking over at Gabriel.
"No way, you dragged me out here now we're gonna stick it out," Gabriel's words came out muffled as he stuck a hors-d'oeuvre into his mouth that a butler was passing around. Miguel had really gone out for his engagement party. "I'll get you food from another place?" you tried another approach, hoping that maybe he would ease up this way. He pointed with his mouth over to the wide array of plates set up at a table, the good looking much more inviting than any bodega you had in mind. You really didn't have any proper reason to leave.
Gabriel left your side upon getting approached by a couple of family members, some third/fourth cousins that had been dying to see him again. You looked out from a distance to see him dancing around with them, anything that would be a nice distraction from looking around for Miguel. Your eyes always managed to find him in whatever room you were in. Not that it was too hard of a task, though. You stepped outside to catch some air, to convince yourself that you could last at least another hour at this event.
You didn't fit either of their lives anymore. As much as you desperately wished you did. The thought had come to you while you were in the balcony, looking out at the night sky. Everyone had someone else to converse with, someway of knowing each other. The thought stung more than you could've imagined, that you were still stuck on memories and a fling from the past while Miguel had been perfectly capable of moving on. The champagne that you had in your hand went down easier than the realization of the bitter truth.
"Hey," you didn't need to look behind you to recognize who'd just stood next to you, the scent of his cologne practically gave it away before he even got the chance to approach. "Hey," you returned the greeting, keeping your attention out on the night sky. "Is the party not up to your liking? You don't have to be outside, y'know," he told you, stepping just an inch closer to you. A scoff escaped from your lips before you got the chance to stop it, an incredulous look on your face when you turned to face Miguel.
"Are you seriously asking me that? You invited me to this engagement party knowing damn well about our previous history together. You didn't even bother to tell me you were engaged. If we weren't dating, then we were at the least friends."
"I wasn't sure how you were going to react to it. You and I didn't exactly have anything all that serious," Miguel realized it was the wrong thing to say upon seeing your expression, the way your face scrunched up in disbelief. The excuse had worked pretty well to get Tempest to leave it alone, so he figured that it would've worked on you too. Never had he regretted saying something so fast.
"Seriously? You think that I hooked up with you throughout these years just because you were a decent lay?"
"Well, what else am I supposed to think? It's not like we did a lot of talking when you came over those past couple times."
"It was because I loved you, you idiot! If it was just about the sex aspect, I would've hooked up with someone back in California!"
"I was gonna tell you at the party that I intended to stay in Nueva York this time around. So I guess we'll be seeing more of each other," the words ran through Miguel like a cold bucket of water, the meaning of your words not at all lost to him. You had wanted to try again. Miguel wanted to pull you back into his arms, tell you that you were the one he envisioned having a future with. But... he didn't. He let you run off, looking at the back of your head before you eventually disappeared.
He stood at the balcony, letting himself ponder about a different alternative to this one. One where Tempest wasn't sick and didn't require his help. One where you'd never left for California, where you stayed by his side. Where the two of you would clean dishes, a cumbia playing in the background as the two of you basked in each other's presence. Where that would just be enough. Where this engagement party was for the both of you, an engagement ring on your finger. A thought that he entertained more and more often.
"Oyé, Tempest doesn't look too good," Gabriel's voice took him out of the fantasy he was in, immediately turning around and scanning inside of the apartment to see if he could find her. She looked winded, despite the fact he knew that she hadn't done much dancing tonight. "Alright, thanks," he cleared his throat, opening the glass door leading back to his apartment before going over to her. "Try to stand up for me, can you do that?" he spoke just low enough for her to hear, putting one hand on her arm.
She'd been sick for a couple weeks now, he knew that much. But he'd never seen her get this bad. The thought was enough to scare him into shooing all the guests away, rushing Tempest to the nearest hospital that he could find. "Come on, stay with me," his voice wavered, seeing the way that Tempest struggled to stay awake. Damn it, he'd never forgive himself for not taking her earlier to the hospital if she didn't get better. He put her favorite song on the radio to see if that made a difference. It didn't.
He rushed with her into the emergency room, beckoning for a nurse to come over after getting Tempest seated down on a wheelchair. She was still conscious, but she was unresponsive to everything going on around her. Her breathing sounded strangled, like the action itself was causing her pain. He found himself with his head buried between her hands, praying for the first time in a couple years. The action was strange to him, but he needed to have someone to depend on in this situation.
If only he'd come when these symptoms started to present themselves.
Tempest wobbled over her feet as she made her way down the small stage that the wedding boutique had set up. Miguel let her lean her body against him, her hand tightly pressed against his chest for some kind of support. "You okay?" he'd seen her get worse these past couple of days, but he decided it'd be better not to push her too much. "Yeah, it's fine," she sounded like she'd just ran a marathon, her chest heaving slightly as she tried to regain control of her breathing.
It'd be better not to make a scene out in public.
"Talk to me, what's going on?" Miguel prodded as the two stepped into the apartment, helping Tempest sit down on the couch despite her protests. She did hate when she got treated like she was weak. Tempest shook his hands off, taking a sip from the water bottle that he'd brought over. He could tell she was just itching to tell him that she was fine, not that the lie would do either of them any good though. "The treatment's just taking more out of me than I expected. The one today just left me feeling particularly weak is all."
"The doctor said it should be expected, Miggy," though the nickname annoyed him to no end, he knew better than to deny a dying person this small thing. Though the excuse didn't sound too coherent to him, he decided he would handle this the way that Tempest wanted to. Instead of him reassuring her, she was doing the task instead. Miguel really needed to do a better job at being a fake fiancé. He let out a small sigh, sitting down by her side and looking over at her with concern etched across all over his features.
"Just tell me if it ever gets too serious, okay? If you ever start to feel too sick or too fatigued. I'll take you to the hospital and I'll get you the best shocking cancer treatment there is, okay?" He told her, taking the water bottle once she was done with it. "I know and I appreciate that, more than you know. But I'm fine, I'll get used to the treatment plan eventually," she responded, the two of them getting into a conversation about what they wanted to order. He always ended up getting what she wanted to regardless.
He thought she was doing better after that, but maybe she'd just done a better job at hiding her sickness away from him. He'd seen her smiling and tending to her plants, even going as far as humming to them. An activity that distracted her from the fact that she couldn't be outside for too long. Little did he know that while the flowers bloomed and thrived under her care, she was decaying with each passing day.
I'm losing by their side
The doctor's words were starting to blur into the background, something about how the treatment plan had been too aggressive. That her body couldn't take it. It all sounded the same to him, really. Just pure gibberish that was meant to rationalize the loss.  "If you knew she couldn't take it then why'd you force her into such an aggressive plan?" Miguel kept his distance as he spoke, every word coming out like venom as he looked at the doctor. His hands balled up into fists but he remained in the seat where he was.
Last thing he needed was to deal with both a funeral and a bail hearing tonight.
"We thought that it was the best approach. She never complained about it," the doctor told him, keeping an even tone as he spoke. Miguel's stare was full of disgust, disgust at the way that he somehow made it sound like it was Tempest's fault. He should've gone to someone better, should've done a number of things differently. He really should've been less desperate when trying to help her. His brother's words ran through his head, so many should'ves and not enough doing. And now Tempest was no longer in his life.
The treatment plan wasn't something that was meant to heal her completely, but it was something that was meant to slow down the rate that the cancer was advancing. Instead, it'd only shortened the time that she'd been given. He blamed himself for not listening to her when she'd expressed that the medication and the levels of chemotherapy were starting to become too much, each session leaving her weaker and weaker. He blamed himself for not being able to save her even if the task was practically impossible.
He played with the engagement band that had once been on his finger, waiting absentmindedly for the doctor to come. He was still processing the fact that he wasn't going home with Tempest tonight, that he'd eventually have to go back home to an empty apartment. Nothing ran through his mind as the doctor gave him the full report of what happened, his gaze empty as he looked at the blank wall. No amount of details would change the fact that he wasn't able to save her. As hard as he tried to, he'd failed not only her, but also himself.
He couldn't bear going back home now, getting welcomed to an apartment that smelled like Tempest all around. From the cookie batter that she'd been making earlier to the scent of her perfume permeated on the couch cushions. It was all too much. Having all these little reminders with the knowledge that they'd soon fade away with time. So he found himself driving over to your place without much thought. Your presence was a calming one, one that would anchor him down to earth before he did something stupid.
Headlights flashed in a flurry of colors, the brightness on some of them almost hurting his eyes as he sped down the streets of Nueva York. "What the shock are you doing, man?!" He heard an angry driver scream behind him, a loud honk following after. He should've been more cautious, he really should've. Cars were swerving to get out of his way on the road, a train of honking following him with every red light that he disregarded. But his brain was on autopilot. His only mission was to get to you.
A distraught Miguel was not what you were expecting to see on your doorstep at two in the morning, but yet here he was. His eyes were brimmed red, tears leaking out of him like a faucet as they combined with the rainfall. His grey Alchemax hoodie had turned into a darker shade, his body shaking in front of you. He hadn't even registered that you'd opened the door, his attention on a speck of dirt that laid on your doorstep.
His body clung onto you when the door swung open, holding you the same way a child would hold a teddy bear for comfort. "I couldn't save her," he babbled, his throat raw as he spoke. After the initial shock fizzled out of your body, you rubbed his back in an attempt to calm him down. "I tried, te lo juro que trate," he repeated as he held you close to his body, needing something to stay stagnant for now.
You stayed quiet, providing him the comfort of your presence and your touch. His shoulders shook with each sob that escaped his body, his chest heaving as his lungs struggled to catch up to him. "I know you tried, Miguel," your words fell on deaf ears as he continued to sob, his grip on you tightening. Something to tether him to reality. "I did, I really did," he whispered, sniffling before more tears began to roll down his cheeks. You'd never seen him cry this much before. Never seen him cry ever, actually.
You set the cup of tea down, his hands shaking as he reached over to grab it. A couple drops fell onto the floor when he tried to get a good grasp on it. "I'm sorry, I know I'm making a mess out of your apartment," he'd made a wet spot on your couch after taking a seat, not that it was your first concern at the moment. "Hey, no. You've got nothing to apologize for," you assured him, taking a seat next to him.
You placed a hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing it as he took a sip from the chamomile tea that you'd brought over. His throat bobbed as he struggled to keep it down. A part of him was convinced that he didn't deserve to be treated this way, with such care and delicacy. After he'd treated you like something disposable, as something that didn't matter. But he couldn't help and be selfish, enjoy the feeling of having your concern directed towards him. Of having you still care about him.
"Thank you," his voice was hoarse, his cheeks completely tear-streaked as he looked up from the floor over to you. He got up from the couch, taking off the wet hoodie that was practically pasted onto his body by now. "I have some clothes that you can borrow," you told him, seeing the hesitation in his face as he debated on taking off the rest of his moist clothing.
You took out a black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants that he'd let you borrow one time after staying at his place a couple years back. A pair of clothes that you told yourself you'd throw away time and time again, only to let them reside in the back of your cabinet. You were thankful that your reluctance to move on really paid off in this moment. You made your way over to the living room, not feeling comfortable with leaving him alone for too long while he was feeling like this.
You passed him the dry set of clothes, picking up the wet pieces from the floor before leaving to the kitchen to give him some time to change. You set the dry clothes in the dryer, starting up the first round before walking back over to the living room. Miguel's movements seemed delayed as he struggled to put his shirt on, like his brain wasn't communicating properly with his body at the moment. "Here, I got you," you instinctively found yourself needing to help him, pulling the shirt down to cover him up.
He looked like he was on the verge of collapsing right on your floor.
You'd grabbed a blanket over from a closet, placing it down on the couch cushion next to him as well as a plush pillow. "Try to get some rest, okay?" you told him, shutting off the light before starting to make your way back into your bedroom. "Do you mind staying here with me tonight?" his voice was unnaturally quiet. You were sure you would've missed it had you not been paying attention. You weren't sure what the protocol was for sleeping with somewhat of an ex but you decided to oblige.
His arm snaked around your waist in an attempt to hold you close, his body heat practically radiating onto your own body. His body shook behind you but he made no noise, an occasional sniffle here and there. It pained you to see him this upset, without being able to do much other than just offer him your comfort. You wanted to be able to take away his pain despite how upset he'd made you these past couple months. It pained you to see him so helpless, so willing to blame himself despite not having any actual fault in it.
You weren't sure how much time had passed when Miguel's body finally fell slack, snores the sound of lawnmower escaping from his lips. Every time that you tried to adjust his body, the grip he had around you tightened in an attempt to keep you in place. He couldn't bare to lose you too. Even if it was just for a couple seconds. You shut you eyes, trying to will yourself into falling asleep. After a while, you just stopped trying and let yourself get consumed into sleep.
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callsign-mayhem · 3 days
Text
heartbreak feels so good (part 1)
Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.
Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.
Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.
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After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too. 
He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.
And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him. 
Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly. 
Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.
‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’
It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.
‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’ 
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It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious. 
Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.
You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification. 
‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow. 
You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly. 
‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’
Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 
‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’
This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then. 
He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away. 
‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted.  ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’  ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.
Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.
Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac. 
Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone. 
‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’  ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start.  Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’
Being this transparent was embarrassing. 
‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’
You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.
‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’
Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.
‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’
Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs. 
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As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection. 
While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over. 
‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’
Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.
‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’
The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that. 
‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’
You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage. 
‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’  ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’
Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either. 
Bradley needed another drink. 
In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you. 
‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.
His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him. 
‘What’s up, Y/CS?’
Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next. 
‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’
Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed. 
‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’
She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence. 
A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’  Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’  ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’
An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later. 
But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing. 
‘Y/N’s phone.’ 
A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life. 
‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’  ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’
Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse. 
‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’
Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already. 
‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him. 
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Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.
Not that you’d want to escape. 
Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.
That’s when it hit you.
You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed. 
‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’
He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.
‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’
A wave of nausea hit you. 
‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’
You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.
‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’
You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad. 
What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.
The worst part was you saw it coming.
‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’
Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 
‘Move.’
He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.
‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’
Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.
You called Elijah. 
He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time. 
Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you. 
It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand. 
What a beautiful night to have your heart broken. 
There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to 
convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way. 
You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach. 
You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley. 
He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it. 
‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’
You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders. 
‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’
Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you. 
‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’
He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.
‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly. 
Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point. 
‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’
You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.
In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’ 
Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out. 
Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact. 
You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love. 
Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.
‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’
Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.
‘Apparently not.’
You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed. 
‘This is news to me too.’
The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night. 
‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’
He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it. 
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The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way. 
Which was to say, it was a bad morning. 
After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed. 
When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now. 
To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover. 
With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast. 
Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door. 
Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time. 
You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised. 
You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again. 
‘Bradley?’
He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.
‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’
He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he 
perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all. 
‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’
You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee, eyeing
you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly. 
‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly.  ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’ 
Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally. 
‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’ 
While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no. 
‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’
The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.
‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’ 
You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy. 
‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’ 
This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed. 
You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try. 
‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’
You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah. 
When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop. 
‘Thanks for breakfast.’  You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’
Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you. 
But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home. 
‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’
Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave. 
‘I’d love to.’
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It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.
Because he really didn’t want to go home. 
He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.
A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.
‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’ 
The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said. 
It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else. 
E<3: always knew you were a slut.
You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text. 
E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.
The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise. 
‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’ 
It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.
Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would. 
‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you?  ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’ 
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The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions. 
‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.
Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts. 
‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled
So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.
‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’
You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested. 
‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’
You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever. 
‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’
From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him. 
‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
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Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time. 
The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it. 
Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly.  He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’ 
He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.
‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’
The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.
‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’
Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.
‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired.  You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’
The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much. 
‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’
Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.
And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart. 
‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.
Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. 
‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’ 
He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything. 
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By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly. 
If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears. 
Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly. 
For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day. 
He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them. 
But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.
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End of part one.
206 notes · View notes
scribblesofagoonerr · 14 hours
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Finding Light In The Darkness
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Anon requested angst, I wrote it... I hope this suffices!
I secretley loved to write this one-shot, not sure if I'll make another part to it, but let me know your thoughts.
Pairings: caitlin foord x teen reader, katie mccabe x teen reader Warnings: heavy angst.
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You've always found life hard, you'd not exactly had the best start in life, it had been cruel and you'd always felt unwanted.
You finally found a real family when you're taken in by your adoptive parents, Katie and Caitlin. You finally thought you had found happiness.
It was all going so great, until it wasn't.
Word began to get round your school about your recent adoption, your true idenity was whispered throughout the school and as a result, you were also left with hateful comments all over your social media.
It was easy to ignore at first, you blocked them out. You remembered the words that your mam would always tell you.
"Ignore them, Y/N/N. They're just jealous"
So you did just that, you put your head down and focused on the positive things in life, things seemed better... Or at least so you thought.
You should have known that nothing in life was so simple, nothing was.
"You don't deserve to be adopted by them"
"You're nothing but a waste of space"
"They'll send you back eventually"
Sitting there on your bed, you couldn't help but scroll through the various messages that bombarded your recent Instagram post, it was a harmless family photo. Why was there such negative comments on it?
The tears were quick to well up in your eyes as you read each and every single comment, feeling the weight of them like a heavy burden on your shoulders.
Through the last several months, you had picked up on several bad habits that you were successfully able to hide from your mom's.
You were desperate for the escape, you craved something to numb the pain and you found yourself reaching for your vape that you had cleverly hidden away.
Taking a deep inhale, you let the thick clouds of smoke fill your room but it did very little to ease the ache in your heart.
It just wasn't enough anymore and you needed something stronger.
Routing through your wardrobe, you successfully found the bottle of Vodka that you'd hidden and you don't waste any time in unscrewing the cap of it and taking a short swig. The liquor brought a burning sensation to your throat, but at least it did the trick to provide a tempory distraction.
Being the daughter of two professional athletes, you should have known how dangerous it was to vape, but the delicious flavours were enough to keep you hooked and keep going back for more.
Taking another swig of the bottle, your tears falling freely while your lost in your own thoughts, so you don't hear the door creak open and your mum poking her head round the door.
"You okay, kiddo? You're quiet today" Caitlins' expression is full of concern while her voice is gentle and soothing, yet to notice the bottle of vodka that you're quick to shove behind your pillow.
Your heart clenched at the worry in the older woman's eyes and your quick to wipe away the tears, trying to compose yourself, "Uh yeah, I'm fine, Mum. It's just been a bit of a rough day" You replied, trying to force a smile on your face which didn't quite reach your eyes.
Caitlin stepped closer towards where you slumped on your bed, her hand reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, "You don't seem fine, kiddo. We've barely seen you since you got in from school" she noted, gently. "What happened at school? You can talk to me, kiddo"
You were hesistant to tell either of your mums what was going on, you didn't want to worry either of them with the weight of your own struggles pressing down on them, "Just the usual stuff, I'm okay" You mumbled, fumbling with your hands.
Caitlin didn't seem quite so convinced as she furrowed her eyebrows in concern, "Y/N/N, kiddo. Please talk to me" she tried to get you to open up, but it wasn't any use.
"No, I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine!" Your quick to lash out, flinching and pulling your hand away when your mum tried to hold it as you flash her a scowl, "I don't want to talk, mum. Please just leave me alone!"
The Australian woman is shocked with the change of your behaviour, "Y/N, I just want to help you, but I can't do that if you won’t talk to me, kiddo" she told you honestly.
"I told you that I'm fine, I don't want to talk about anything!" Your still screaming and lashing out, the spirit bottle falling down and it was now on clear view for your mum to be able to see.
Before you have chance to hide it again, your mum noticed it, "Y/N, have you been drinking?" she asked, the concern was clear in her voice, "How... Where did you even get this?"
Having heard the commotion from downstairs, Katie rushed upstairs to find out what was going on, shocked to hear the tailend of the conversation.
"You've been drinking?!" Katie was enraged, shocked to find you with a bottle of vodka that you had somehow got your hands on.
"It's not a big deal" You shrugged your shoulders, trying to avoid giving any type of explanation about this.
Katie's eyes widened in disbelief with your sudden streak of reckless behaviour, "Not a big deal? It is a big deal when you're 15 years old!" she said, frustrated with your carless attitude, "How could you be so stupid to do something like this-- What else have you been doing?!"
"Katie! Calm down. We need to talk about this rationally" Caitlin turned to look at her partner, knowing it wouldn't be any good to be frustrated about any of this, "Kiddo, talk to us, please? Where did you get the alcohol? You shouldn't be drinking when your underage, kiddo"
"I'm... I'm sorry" The tears stream down your face, the raw vunerability evident in your voice, clear as day.
"Talk to us kiddo" Caitlin's gentle presence was like a lifeline and you found yourself able to open up to them both.
"The hates too much, I can't cope... The bullies at school, the trolls online; I needed to find a way to numb the pain. It's too much" You tearfully confess to them, no matter how much you try and keep the tears at bay, they just just keep streaming down your face.
"It's okay. Its' going to all be okay" Caitlin is quick to embrace her daughter in her arms, wanting to just take her pain away.
"Oh kiddo" Katie spoke up, her worry now outweighing her initial frustration that she had at first, "Kiddo, I know it's a lot to deal with, but listen to me, yeah? Drinking isn't something that will make the pain go away, nothing like that. We're here for you, no matter what"
"Exactly, we're here for you. We'll go down to the school and we'll sort it out. It's going to be okay, kiddo" Caitlin chimed in, brushing your loose hairs out of your face as she just held you in your arms.
You felt a wave of relief wash over you now that you had confessed what had been going on; You were finally safe, you had your two mums' by your side and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would now have the strength to face them head on.
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