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drabbles-mc · 4 months

Text

Second Time Around

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Jake "Hangman" Seresin Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC Roman

Summary: With the way that everything ended, Jake knew that he had no right to start getting jealous now. The whole mess was on him in a way, anyway. That logic, however, didn't stop the jealousy from creeping into the back of his mind when he heard about Bradley moving onwards and upwards.And, just like everything else with the two of them, trying to figure out where to go from here wasn't nearly as easy as either of them wanted to be. They just had to hope that it was all going to work out in the end.

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, jealousy, angst (with a happy ending), breakups & makeups

Word Count: 9.9k

A/N: I wrote this for Fic in a Box 2023 and I absolutely became obsessed with the ride this fic took me on while writing it. I also fell in love with my OC so idk maybe I'll keep him around and put him in other fics lmao. Hope y'all enjoy!

Top Gun Taglist: @garbinge @proceduralpassion

Everyone was finally at a point where they could hang out together on a regular basis again. There was a hot minute there when everyone was being sent off in different directions. And if that wasn’t the problem, there was also the issue of the fallout between Bradley and Jake. It was the risk anyone ran when they decided to get involved with someone they worked with. Only thing was, it wasn’t as though they were all just stuck in some corporate office together. They were on-base, in the barracks, flying out on missions together. There was no time or space for hard feelings, but somehow the two of them still managed.

So it was hard fought and well earned time together at the end of the week, everyone at The Hard Deck together without it being an issue. It was easier now than it had been a few weeks prior, things getting incrementally less tense as the days ticked by. Some of that was because everyone was too busy training for the next mission, but also the farther the two of them got away from the less than amicable ending of their relationship, the easier it got to at least be civil with each other.

They hardly ever talked directly to each other if they weren’t on base and under explicit instruction to be working together in some capacity. When they were all together and out the way that they were, they always kept a little bit of distance. Everyone else was also merciful enough to run interference, even if they didn’t realize that they were doing it.

“Alright, alright,” Bradley threw his hands up in surrender as he stepped back from their crew who were all sitting gathered around the pool table, “I know, next round on me.”

“Don’t forget to get yourself one, too,” Natasha joked as Bradley pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

Before Bradley could get too far, Jake stepped in. “I got it.”

Bradley hated the way that he instantly felt his jaw clench, but he couldn’t stop himself. “It’s fine. I can—”

“You get the next one.” There was the same smug look on his face that he always had, like he wasn’t thinking about or worried about everything that had happened—like it didn’t faze him at all anymore. “Back up on your perch, Rooster,” he said as he clapped Bradley on the shoulder and passed by him.

Natasha saw the look on Bradley’s face, the tightness in his jaw and shoulders. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do whatever it is you’re thinking about doing. Don’t take the bait.” She paused. “You know how he is.”

Bradley scoffed. “Yeah, I do.”

When Jake got up to the bar, Penny was already there waiting. “How many this time, Hangman?” Penny asked, leaning against her side of the bar.

He flashed her the same charming grin that he always did. The same one that she never bought into but still accepted without comment. “Another seven, if you don’t mind.”

She nodded as she grabbed the bottle opener and started plucking bottles to open for everyone, “You playing nice over there?”

He chuckled, holding his hands out like he couldn’t believe that she would suspect otherwise of him. “I’m always playing nice.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, smiling but letting him know that she wasn’t buying what he was trying to sell. “If you say so.” She set the bottles down on the bar-top. “Let’s keep it that way, alright?”

He nodded, flashing her a wink as he gathered the bottles in his hands. “Yes ma’am.”

Hangman made his way back to where the billiard table was. Bob was just starting to rack up for the next game when Jake started to pass out everyone’s beers. Bradley was second to last in the unofficial line. Jake held the bottle out to him.

“Little liquid courage before you lose another game to Bobby over here,” he said, nodding back over his shoulder at the man in question.

Bradley shook his head as he tucked his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. “I’m good. I gotta go, actually.”

Confusion went over Jake’s face, but before he could say anything Natasha beat him to the punch. “Really? That much of a sore loser?” she joked.

“No, no,” he shook his head with a laugh, “not this time.”

When Natasha saw the small grin starting to pull at the ends of Bradley’s mouth, she knew exactly why he was ditching the rest of them. “Oh,” she said with fake exaggeration, “I see. Ditching the rest of us for date night. Got it.”

Bradley was laughing and for a split second he forgot about the fact that Hangman was still standing right beside him. “Don’t—”

“Tell Rome we all said hello,” she remarked with a slick grin.

“Yeah,” Bradley carefully maneuvered himself so that there was a little more space between him and Jake while also putting himself slightly closer to the door, “because I know he’s dying to hear from you.” He turned and looked at Jake. “Keep the beer—guess I’ll just owe you one.”

Jake fought to keep his expression from faltering but he managed it. “Guess you will.” He paused, and everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Much to everyone’s, including Jake’s, surprise, he wrapped it up with a sarcastic but simple, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Bradley scoffed quietly. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

The tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate all of them as Rooster finally started to make his departure for real. It was going to be a make or break moment for the rest of them that were staying. If no one said anything, there was going to be a long stretch of silence until someone tried to awkwardly break through it. So Fanboy took it upon himself to stop it before it go that bad.

“Better be home before midnight, Rooster!” He motioned to Natasha, more for everyone else’s benefit than Rooster’s, “Or we’ll sic Mom on you!”

Everyone was laughing, and Bradley was shaking his head as he continued his way out. They couldn’t see the look on his face, but they all knew each other well enough by that point to know what he looked like anyway.

Once Rooster was out the door and they were all settling back down into what they had been doing before, Hangman found himself standing beside Natasha. She had an idea of where all of this was about to go, and she was desperately wishing that she had tagged in to play the game with Bob before Fanboy stole the opportunity.

“Rome?” he finally asked as the two of them watched Bob break for the start of the game.

Natasha shook her head, not even bothering to look Hangman in the eyes. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

“You announced it to the class,” he said as he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant as he took a sip from the beer bottle in his hand. “I’m just following up.”

She wanted to make a comment about the fact that the rest of the class didn’t have any extra vested interest in Bradley’s love life, but she stopped herself from being that intentionally mean. “Follow up with Rooster. I’m sure he has more to say about it than I do.”

“How long—”

“Hangman. Stop.” They were both expecting her to sound angrier than she did. More than anything it almost sounded like she felt bad for him. Which was shocking for Natasha, and annoying for Jake. “You knew this was going to have to happen eventually. If you wanna talk about it,” she started to shift away from him, putting space to end the conversation as politely as she could manage, “you have his number.”

Rooster found himself practically bouncing on the balls of his feet outside the door of Roman’s apartment. He had the bag with their takeout in one hand as he reached forward and knocked with the other. It felt different, not bad, not strange, just different, to be starting the night off in the position instead of ending it there.

The first couple times it was just Rooster dropping him off. A kiss in the doorway, lingering and stretching out the goodbye to be longer than it necessary so that he wouldn’t turn and go back to his car, back to his own apartment. After a few more dates Bradley would go inside. They’d both use the guise of “Just one more drink before you go” but they both knew that Bradley wasn’t going to be going anywhere once he stepped in and toed off his shoes. He’d wake up early in the morning, jostle Roman’s shoulder just enough to be able to say goodbye so it didn’t seem like he was just taking off.

But now he was here at the start of it all. He didn’t know why he had the jitters—it wasn’t like it was their first date, it wasn’t even his first time inside the apartment. But it felt good. Exciting in a way that was refreshing after everything else that had happened. He shook his head to dispel the thoughts before they could carry him too far away. This was a good thing. He was going to let it be a good thing.

He heard the chain, the flip of the deadbolt, and then the door was being pulled open from the inside. Roman stood there, leaning against the door he’d just opened with the same beaming smile he always greeted Bradley with.

“Hey,” Roman greeted him sounding like he was already out of breath, like he was still a little surprised by it all.

Bradley gave him an easy smile. “Hey.” He held up the bag of takeout, laughing as he said, “Your Doordash order has been delivered.”

“Wow,” Roman laughed as he opened the door a little wider and motioned for Bradley to come inside, “Don’t remember when the drivers got so hot.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, trying and failing not to laugh as he pushed the bag of takeout lightly into Roman’s chest. “Alright. Easy.” He was shaking his head as he toed off his shoes. “Also, definitely hoping that you’re not just letting anyone delivering food here come inside your apartment.”

“Not anyone,” he said as he passed by Bradley, bringing the food to the kitchen. “Just the cute ones.”

The evening was easy in a way that Bradley needed, a way that things had been consistently with the two of them. They sat at the small counter in Roman’s kitchen and ate their takeout while they each caught each other up on the day they’d been having. Bradley left a few key details out about what had transpired right before he showed up—there was no need to drag those skeletons out of the closet in that moment.

“You’d like Natasha, though,” he said with a nod as he reached over and stole a forkful of noodles from the takeout box in front of Roman.

All he could do was laugh and let him. “That’s Phoenix, right?”

He couldn’t hide the impressed look on his face. “Yeah.”

Roman gestured with his chopsticks as he spoke. “And she flies with Bob.” He chuckled. “Who is just Bob.”

“You got a corkboard with red string here that I should know about?” he asked jokingly.

Roman laughed and shook his head. “No. But, you know, you talk about them a lot—I try to remember.”

There was something so innocent about the admission that gave Bradley pause. He lightly tapped his fork against the flimsy cardboard that held his rice. Roman was already moving along to the next thing, unaware of the fact that the man sitting at the counter with him was trying his best to store that statement into his memory bank, the look on his face, the way he said it. It’d been a long time since someone had been so genuine, almost soft in a way—Bradley had sort of forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of that after so many months of highs and lows.

“Bradley?” Roman’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

“Hm?”

He chuckled. “I said next time we go out, you should invite them.”

Bradley laughed. “Natasha would lose her mind. She’s been about this close to tracking my phone and kicking down your door.”

The laugh that Roman let out made it seem like he was completely unfazed. “Should I get another lock, then?”

He shook his head. “Won’t matter.” He paused, finally getting himself to respond to what Roman’s initial suggestion had been. “But yeah, that’d be good—you meeting them, I mean.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have been letting himself get swept up in all of it. This was just supposed to be casual, fun. And while meeting Rooster’s friends didn’t inherently change that, it certainly could shift the trajectory just enough. It was too soon for something serious. Bradley knew that about himself at least. But Roman seemed so earnest, it seemed like more of a crime to not let it play out. Besides, in the back of Bradley’s mind he knew that the only way to really start moving on, was to let himself start moving on.

“My brother called today,” Roman said, forever just plugging right along to the next thing.

“Oh, yeah?” Bradley tucked back into his dinner now that it was his turn to listen instead of talk. “How’d that go?”

Bradley was more than content to sit there and listen to Roman ramble on about his brother. It was a nice change of pace, listening to someone talk about people and things that had nothing to do with the Navy, nothing to do with Top Gun. Roman talked about his work, about his brother and the girl that his brother was dating, who apparently neither of them liked very much. Bradley couldn’t help but to laugh at some of the things that he was saying, the way that he’d point and click his chopsticks together when he got really into a story. Roman was funny, his humor less harsh than the people Bradley spent most of his time around. Another nice change of pace.

Dinner was long since done and over with. Their silverware was discarded into Roman’s sink, the takeout containers all tossed into the garbage. Roman had made a joking comment about he was a fan of the whole, “No dishes,” thing even when they were staying in.

They were halfway through a movie, comfortably tangled up together on Roman’s couch. Bradley had one arm around his shoulders, Roman’s head resting against his chest, their legs layered up in a way that would probably take actual effort to unravel. Bradley’s other hand was tucked behind his head as he leaned comfortably back into the couch cushions. It was an easy night, a mid-budget movie, both he and Roman spending just as much time trying to figure out where they knew all the actors from as they spent actually paying attention to the plot of the film.

Another ten minutes went by and they gave up on focusing completely, Roman’s lips pressing against Bradley’s jaw putting the final nail in the coffin. Neither of them would have even known the movie wrapped up if it hadn’t been for the drastic change in volume as Netflix started playing the trailers of other movies that they could watch next. All they could manage to do was laugh quietly about it.

“I gotta head out,” Bradley mumbled, not sounding overly committed to it even though it was the truth.

Roman heard the lack of commitment in his voice and didn’t waste a second capitalizing on it. “Doesn’t really sound like you do.”

Bradley chuckled. “I know, I know. But I do. I told you,” he let Roman steal a kiss in an attempt to distract him since it had worked so well before, but he continued on anyway, “We got that training exercise tomorrow.”

“It’s not that far from here,” he tried to rationalize.

With the way that his fingers were creeping up underneath the fabric of Bradley’s shirt, he almost found himself giving into it. Shaking his head, Bradley forced himself to take a hold of Roman’s wrist before he got too carried away. “Soon,” he tried to compromise, albeit vaguely. He could see it on Roman’s face that he wasn’t convinced. “Next time,” he haggled.

It was enough, getting Roman to drop his feigned questioning expression as he smiled and nodded. “Yeah, alright. That’s fair.”

“Just, you know,” Bradley gave him a brief kiss before starting the work of untangling himself, “place another Doordash order.”

Roman laughed as he finally let him up from the couch. “That won’t take long then.”

It wasn’t until Bradley finally got home and flopped into bed at the end of the night that he checked his phone. Most of the notifications he just swiped away. Some he knew he would ignore for now and get to in the morning, others he knew he would still be ignoring in the morning as well. He was hardly paying attention to what any of them said until he saw the text from Hangman come in. Why Jake was texting him at nearly one in the morning, Bradley didn’t know. But he knew that it probably wasn’t anything good. Still, he opened it.

“Hope the date went well”

Bradley didn’t even realize he was letting out a sigh until he was out of breath to exhale. He stared at the phone as he propped it up against his chest. It was the first text either of them had sent in a long time. It’d been an even longer time since one of them had said something to the other that didn’t have to do with work. If Bradley knew that he wasn’t going to have to see Jake in a few hours, he would block his number like he did with every other ex and be done with him. But it wasn’t that simple with the two of them. It never had been, and apparently never would be.

He was tempted to reply. He could reply and be honest, rub salt in the wound and say how great the date had gone. He wondered if Jake would have anything to say to that. Maybe he’d come back with something cutting and sarcastic. Maybe something sincere enough to try and get Bradley to feel bad. The thought also crossed his mind to reply with something cruel. They were past that for the most part but if someone had asked Bradley on any given day, he’d say that he still deserved a few more good jabs as emotional compensation about it all.

He could have said any number of things and he would’ve been well within his rights on all of them. Instead, though, he said nothing. He reread the message a few more times, scrolled back and reread some of their older texts because apparently he was still a glutton for emotional punishment, and then he locked his phone screen for the night. As he forced his eyes to shut, he couldn’t help but to wonder why Hangman texted him, or why he waited so long to text him. Was he thinking about it ever since Bradley left The Hard Deck? If he was trying to ruin the date he could’ve called in the middle of it, thrown a wrench into the plan. But he didn’t. Instead he just sent a short text in the middle of the night, leaving Bradley to spin out about it until he fell asleep. Which, he thought to himself as he was finally about to pass out, might’ve been Jake’s goal all along.

When he woke to the sound of his absurdly early alarm that morning, all he could do was groan and blindly reach around for his phone to try and turn it off. He held it in his hand, draping his arm over his face to cover his eyes, like that would block out the light coming in from the cracks in his blinds, block out all of his responsibilities for the day that he was already thinking about. He was still laying in the exact same position when his second alarm went off and earned yet another groan from him. But this time he at least got out of bed.

Bradley was in the middle of putting his things into his locker when he heard someone else walk into the room. He kept a look out in his peripheral. From the lack of a greeting alone he had a fairly good idea of who it was. He was fully planning on not saying anything to him about any of it—it wasn’t anyone else’s business anyway. But when he swung the door of his locker shut, Hangman was posted up right on the other side.

The smirk that Jake had on his face had Bradley wondering if he even remembered sending the text. Then again, shame hadn’t ever really been in Hangman’s repertoire. “Bradshaw,” he said and nodded in greeting.

He didn’t even want to entertain the conversation. “Later, Hangman.”

Bradley was halfway out the door when Jake spoke up again. “Didn’t hear back from you last night—was starting to think you didn’t wanna cop to bad news.”

He stopped in his tracks, resting one hand on the doorframe. His head dropped, chin tucking towards his chest as he let out a sigh of defeat. He knew that he wasn’t going to get out of this without having to say something.

Forcing himself to turn back around and face Jake, he said, “Not bad news. Just not news I want to talk to you about.” He shook his head. “Don’t know why you’d want to hear it anyway. Why you’d even care.”

“Just wondering who was dragging you out of the little slump you found yourself in for a few weeks there.”

“Slump?” he repeated the word back, anger already shining through his tone.

“Something else you want me to call it?”

Bradley shook his head, trying to figure out where he even wanted to try and start with everything that had happened within the last twelve hours with the two of them. He was originally just upset about the text. But within the span of twenty seconds Jake had given him a whole slew of new things to also be angry about. He didn’t have it in him to get into what the immediate fallout of their relationship had been like for him.

“You,” he shook his head, “you don’t get to text me about my dates. You don’t get to tell me that you hope it went well, you don’t get to ask me how it went. All of that stuff? Officially none of your fucking business.”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up, surprised that Bradley was so quick to anger even though it shouldn’t have been surprising at all. “Whoa, whoa,” he held his hands up in fake surrender, “I was just—”

“I don’t get why you care at all about how I’m doing. Or why you care about who I’m going on dates with or not. That’s not your business, not your problem anymore. You,” he scoffed, “made real sure of that.”

For a split second Jake’s façade faltered. He recovered quickly, and he couldn’t tell if Bradley didn’t pounce on the opportunity because he simply didn’t notice, or if it was because he really was just that desperate to be done with and out of the conversation. Either way, it took Jake longer than he wanted to admit to come up with something to say in response to that.

That hesitation was something that Bradley didn’t have any issue preying on. He continued on. “If I remember right, Jake, half the reason you ended things was because you didn’t want to care that much about dating me. You wanted to care so little, actually, that you didn’t even want to bother doing it at all anymore. So you left.”

“That’s not—”

“You walked out. Don’t get mad at me because the door got locked behind you.” There was a pause, both waiting for the other to speak. Finally Bradley did. “Don’t text me.”

It was the first time that Jake had looked anything close to defeated. He wanted to have a pithy remark, something to grant him the upper hand at the end of it all, but he came up dry. Instead he just nodded and let Bradley finally walk out of the room to go and join everyone else.

It was impossible to miss the anger that was written all over Rooster’s face. No one wanted to ask him about it, though—no one was feeling quite brave enough for that. All of the things they had to do were typically stressful enough without anything else adding to it, and yet someone was always finding a way to make it even more stressful. That someone was usually Hangman, and everyone could tell by the look on Rooster’s face that that was probably the case this time around too.

By the time that Hangman walked back into the mock classroom area where everyone else was sitting, he looked as unbothered as he ever had. The cocky smirk was right back on his face, which served multiple purposes but most importantly it made Bradley seem like he was being the dramatic one. It always seemed to end up going that way.

“Was it something I said?” he asked the room with a chuckle as he took his seat on the opposite half of the classroom from Rooster.

Once the day got underway, everyone’s personal feelings about each other fell to the wayside for the most part. They were all being pressed too hard about things that had much higher stakes than exes and dates gone wrong. It served its purpose for getting everyone to tolerate each other for the day. But then, when the lessons were done and the exercises all wrapped up, all the same old tensions came back. To make matters worse, the same tensions came back and now on top of that everyone was exhausted and frustrated about training on top of being frustrated about everything else that was going on.

And, all things being equal, it wasn’t really everyone this time around. It was just Rooster and Hangman. It almost always was.

“What happened?” Natasha asked when it was just the two of them walking inside from the tarmac, bringing up the back of the pack.

Bradley shrugged and shook his head, the expression on his face showing that he was trying to be unbothered about it all but the tension in his jaw was working against him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t do that,” she said, fighting the urge to cuff him on the back of the head. “What the hell happened last night? You were practically skipping out of The Hard Deck.”

He scoffed. The image she painted was an amusing one but it wasn’t enough to undo his frustration. “Hangman say anything to you after I left?”

“Hangman is always saying things to me. Haven’t figured out how to get him to stop.”

“Trace.”

“He asked about Roman.”

Rooster shook his head. “Of course he did.” He paused, looking over at her as they walked. “What’d you say?”

She stopped a few steps from the doorway, not wanting to bring this conversation inside the echo chamber that all the buildings on base seemed to be. “I didn’t say anything. Told him that if he had questions, he should be asking you instead of me.” She waited for him to tell her what happened, and when he didn’t, she pressed him one more time. “Bradshaw, what did he say to you?”

He nodded towards the building. “Texted me at like one in the morning saying that he hoped the date went well.”

Natasha shook her head, knowing that even though it sounded perfectly harmless, it was the exact kind of thing Hangman would do to get inside Rooster’s head. “Bagman.”

“And then this morning—" Bradley started, but the more he thought about it, the more he didn’t want to replay the entire thing. Sighing, he asked, “What the fuck am I supposed to be doing about that?”

“Same thing the rest of us do when he’s being a dick—ignore him.”

“Yeah, but—”

“He does it because he knows that it gets to you. Don’t…don’t let it get to you.” She started walking towards the building again. “Did the date go well, though?” she shifted gears, a small smile starting to appear on her face as she attempted to lighten the mood.

It worked. Bradley fell back into stride with her again as they reached the door. He pulled it open for her as he responded, “It did, yeah.”

“When do I get to—”

“He asked the same thing,” he cut her off, chuckling because he already knew where the question was going.

“He did, huh? Wants to meet your friends?”

Bradley rolled his eyes despite the warmth rising in his face. “Don’t say it like that. Besides, I think he just wants to put faces to all the weird texts he’s seen pop up in the group chat.”

Natasha laughed. “Guess that means he’s gotta meet Fanboy too.” They shared a laugh about it as they got closer to the hall where their glorified locker rooms were. “When this starts to settle,” she said as they both paused in between the doors, “it’d be nice. We can go, you know, somewhere that’s not The Hard Deck.”

Bradley couldn’t help but to laugh as he shook his head at her. The suggestion was as genuine as it was sarcastic. “Probably smart, yeah.”

He was walking out to his car, toying with the keys in his hands. The last twenty-four hours playing on repeat in his head. He’d had a few precious weeks of status quo, and then suddenly all of this. He hoped that there wasn’t going to be anything that he had to do to get it all to quiet down again. Maybe Natasha was right, the way that she usually was, and all he had to do was ignore Hangman and he’d give up. Hangman wasn’t known for being a quitter, but Bradley also remembered the look on Jake’s face when they spoke in the morning. He hadn’t looked that hurt since the night they ended things and Bradley kicked him out of his apartment, and even then, Hangman had been the one causing most of the pain.

The shower Bradley had taken when he got back to his place was much longer than what was really necessary, but he felt a little better afterwards. It didn’t fix anything, but it didn’t hurt, either. He had his shorts on, was dragging the towel over his head to wick some of the water off his hair when he grabbed his phone off the charger on his nightstand.

He saw that he had one missed call from Jake. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that calling him back would be a bad idea, but his impulsiveness won out before he could try to rationalize himself out of it.

It rang twice before he picked up. “Was starting to think you blocked my number.”

“I might if you don’t stop—”

“Don’t lie to me like that, Bradshaw,” he replied, smug as ever. “You’re not good at it.”

He sighed, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. “What do you want?”

“About earlier—”

“Don’t lie and say you’re sorry,” Bradley tried to save them both the breath of that argument. “We both know you’re not.”

“Wasn’t gonna apologize,” he replied honestly.

“Then, what?”

There was a beat of a pause. “You like him?”

Bradley let out a sigh that turned into an exasperated laugh. “You called to ask me if—”

“Yeah, I did.” It was the most earnest he’d sounded in a long time.

He carefully considered his answer. “I do, yeah.”

It was a small-scale blessing for both of them that they couldn’t see each other’s faces. Jake couldn’t hide the way Bradley’s admission gave him pause, and he didn’t think that he would’ve been able to play it off even if they’d actually been face to face.

“Okay,” he finally said.

Bradley dropped his face into the hand that wasn’t holding onto his phone. “Were you thinking I was going to say no? That this was all just some big show I’m putting on for you?”

Jake chuckled but even he couldn’t hide the sadness in the sound. “Wouldn’t put it past you.”

“This wasn’t what I wanted, you know,” Bradley said. His voice grew heavier the more he spoke. “I didn’t want it to be like this. You did. You left. I don’t,” he huffed, “I don’t even think you really miss me.”

“Hey—”

“I think you’re just upset I’m not sitting around for you while you get your shit together. You expected me to just wait.”

“You always do.”

“Not always.” There was a long pause before Bradley spoke up again. “You lost this one. You always leave everyone behind.”

“I know,” he admitted, as much to his own surprise as it was to Bradley’s.

Bradley wanted to end the call. He wanted to hang up, block Jake’s number, and then put his phone through the garbage disposal regardless of how ridiculous of a notion it was. He shouldn’t have called back. He shouldn’t be listening to anything that Hangman had to say. He definitely shouldn’t have been letting the apparent sincerity in Jake’s voice put a knot in his stomach and a lump in his throat. But there he was anyway, doing all of those things.

He cleared his throat hoping that it would make him sound more in-control of his emotions than he really was. “Why’d you even bother, then?” Bradley finally asked.

“With what?”

He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This felt like it was a conversation that they should’ve had months ago. Neither of them were all that great with time management. “Any of it. If you didn’t want to—” he cut himself off, trying to find the right way to say what he wanted to say, “If that wasn’t what you wanted I don’t get why you even bothered with me.” He heard Jake take a breath as he got ready to answer so he said one more thing before he lost the chance, “And I don’t get why you’re bothering with calling me now if nothing’s changed.”

“I didn’t want it to be like this either.” He could picture the indignant and hurt look on Bradley’s face even though there were miles and countless walls separating them in the moment. “I know this is on me but it doesn’t mean that I wanted it to go like that.”

Bradley had the gnawing feeling that he was just setting himself up for more heartache, but he still asked, “How did you want it to go?”

“I wanted to give you what you wanted!” Jake said, the most desperate and honest he’d ever sounded. He took a breath, getting control back over himself again. “But…I couldn’t.”

Bradley felt the tears stinging in his eyes and he tried to ignore them. He didn’t know what he wanted to say to that, what he should say to that. “Why are you digging all of this up, Jake?”

“This guy—”

“Roman,” Bradley cut him off.

“Roman.” Jake corrected himself. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Does he…does he give you what you want?”

Bradley didn’t even have to think about the answer. “He could.”

Jake paused, not expecting the answer to be so quick and easy. Maybe he waited too long. Maybe the second he let Bradley oust him from his apartment all that time ago he’d lost him for good. It crossed his mind that he should probably quit before he landed himself even farther behind than he already was. But then again, he also reasoned with himself, Bradley called him back. Bradley hadn’t hung up the phone, even as the silence between them stretched on far longer than what was comfortable for either of them.

“Do you want it from him?” Jake finally asked.

Bradley scoffed, trying to cover up the fact that he felt like he’d just been punched in the gut. “Jake.”

“I’m serious.”

The problem was that Bradley knew Jake was serious. This conversation would’ve been so much easier to get through, or to end abruptly, if he thought that Jake was still just trying to get a rise out of him like he had been before. They were both past that now. Honesty was so much harder—this was why they hadn’t had any real conversations in weeks.

“You made it clear,” Bradley chose each word carefully and it showed, “that I wasn’t going to get it from you. And just, just because you’re jealous now, just because you don’t want me to want someone else, doesn’t mean that you’d…” he trailed off, brain suddenly swinging on the pendulum between what had happened between them before, what might happen if they tried it all again.

“Didn’t answer my question.”

“He’s good,” Bradley said as he shut his eyes tight. “He’s, fuck, he’s nice. And it’s easy and we don’t always end up fucking arguing every time something—”

“But?” Jake cut him off, knowing that the discussion was hurtling towards that point anyway.

“But he’s not you!” he snapped before he could stop himself. He sucked in a short, unsteady breath. “And that’s,” he let out a sad laugh, “that’s why he’s so nice and why we don’t argue. It’s why…it’s why he isn’t trying to make me give him less.”

“I didn’t want less from you.”

“You didn’t want more.”

“That’s not the same,” Jake argued. “I’m not used to being the one who’s trying to keep up.”

“And I’m not used to you being the one who quits.”

It hung heavily on the phoneline between them. Neither of them said anything, but they didn’t make any move to hang up either. All the things that they’d said and yet they still felt like they were stuck in the same spot they had been. It felt like all of that should’ve changed something. Bradley wiped at the corners of his eyes, glad that he was the only one who knew about the tears.

“I’m sorry that—”

Bradley cut him off. “You don’t get to keep doing this to me. You don’t get to walk out on me and then try to claw your way back in because you’re jealous that I’m trying to move on. Putting me through this again. Especially if…”

“I know.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because...I wish it was different.”

“Well,” Bradley said, “it’s not. I don’t know if it ever could be.”

“Ever?”

He laughed but there wasn’t any humor in it. “Ball’s in your court on that one.”

It was Jake’s turn to laugh. The sound was a little less sad than Bradley’s. There was no good rebuttal. He could keep dragging the two of them around and around but it was still going to come back to the same conclusion. It was always going to be Hangman’s doing that they were in the scenario that they were, and it was always going to be on him to deal with however the cards fell because of that. He wished that he could tell Bradley that he was wrong, that he wasn’t jealous, that that wasn’t what sparked all of this. And maybe it wasn’t the only reason he was doing all of this, but it was definitely the final reason, the one that pushed him over the edge.

“Can I ask you something?” Jake asked.

Bradley chuckled, sounding a little more like his old self. “Would it matter if I said no?”

Jake gave a short hum of amusement before moving right into asking, “You think we could ever go a second round?”

He found himself letting slip a small smile at the casual way Jake phrased the question, like they hadn’t just dragged each other through the emotional wringer for the last stint of it all. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m seeing—”

“If you weren’t.” He could spot the deflection coming from a mile away.

Bradley sighed. “Maybe. If things could be different, then yeah, maybe a second round wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” A beat passed. “But things would have to be different.”

“Right.”

He waited to see if Jake had more to say than that. When he didn’t, Bradley finally said, “I’m going to bed.”

“And tomorrow?”

He fought the urge to sigh again—his lungs could only take so much. “Next training exercise.”

“Bradley—”

“Night, Hangman.”

He didn’t give Jake the chance to return the courtesy before hanging up the phone. Once he hung up, he stared down at the now-blank screen staring back at him. Pulling the towel off from around his shoulders, he tossed it aside and finally finished getting ready for bed.

When Bradley woke up the next morning, he expected to be exhausted, angry even, but he wasn’t. He felt a little rattled after his conversation with Jake the night before, but he wasn’t as spun-out as he thought he was going to be. As he got ready in the morning, he started to think to himself that perhaps he was dealing with everything better than he thought he was—not just their conversation, but everything else about the two of them as well. There wasn’t a knot in his gut the way there had been before. For a second, he thought that maybe even after all the heartbreak and the second-guessing there was the possibility that things were playing out how they were supposed to. There was the possibility that he was moving through things, or past them, in a way that he hadn’t been able to before.

Then, as he was walking out to his car, his phone buzzed with a text from Roman. That was all it took for the pit in his stomach to start growing again. Guilt started clawing at the back of his mind as he tried to think about what to say in response. It was a simple text—that wasn’t the issue. Up until now, Bradley had played coy about everything that had happened with Hangman. There hadn’t been much of a need to get into the details of the breakup, or who his ex was, not when it was just a casual thing. Now, though, they were slowly wandering out of casual territory. Not only that, but up until now it wasn’t as though he’d had any heart-to-hearts with Jake since he and Roman had started to see each other. It was easy to avoid talking about things when they were things that happened in the past. This was brutally, disgustingly present. He avoided it for now while he could, opting to slide his phone into his pocket and get into his car.

Despite the intensity of their conversation the night before, both Bradley and Jake were able to keep it civil, almost friendly throughout the day. It was the most normal that things had been in a long time. Everyone around noticed, caught between wanting to be thankful for a break from the antagonism and bickering, but also wanting to know what happened and how long this ceasefire was going to last.

“You did something stupid, didn’t you?” Natasha called after Bradley at the end of the day when he was walking to his car.

He stopped, head tilting back so he was looking up at the sky. He could dodge and avoid a lot of people, but never Natasha. She wouldn’t allow it. “What?” he asked, even though he’d heard her perfectly fine the first time.

“No, I know you did something stupid. I just don’t know the specifics.” She strode so that she was standing in front of him. “What stupid thing did you do?”

“I didn’t—”

“Tell me.”

He huffed, like a teenager on the brink of throwing a tantrum. “Hangman called.”

“And you definitely didn’t pick up, right?”

“I missed the call.” He saw the way that Natasha refused to let herself be relieved by that piece of information. “So I called him back.”

“Bradley.”

“Natasha,” he mocked. She didn’t say anything, just giving a wordless nod to prompt him to explain himself, so he tried. “Something told me to call him back.”

“Yeah, the under-developed part of your brain.”

He rolled his eyes and forged onward. “It wasn’t…bad.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Was it good?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Last time we talked, we decided that you needed to not speak to him anymore. How did it go from that to having late-night—”

“I miss him,” he said plainly.

She sighed, not completely unsympathetic to his plight. “I get it.” She pulled a face, remembering who it was that they were talking about. “Kind of, I guess.”

It got them both to laugh as Bradley said, “Shut up.”

“But it ended. Then it was hell for you and just about everyone else. And now you,” she gestured broadly at nothing, “you have Roman. And he wants to meet your friends. And twenty-four hours ago you wanted him to meet everyone. That’s good, Bradshaw. Why…just, why?”

“You think he could be different?” he asked.

She scoffed. “It clearly doesn’t matter to you what I think.”

He smiled. “Humor me.”

“People can change,” she finally said. “But it’s not usually that easy. Plus this is Hangman that we’re talking about. He is…exactly who he is.”

“You think he’s just dicking me around?”

“Not necessarily. He probably does miss you. Probably wants a second chance and wants to be better. Doesn’t mean he can pull it off.”

She wasn’t saying anything that he didn’t already know, hadn’t already thought about even long before his phone call the night before. It was different hearing it from someone other than himself—it sunk in a little more.

“Was hoping for something a little more positive,” he said, half-joking.

She shrugged. “Wanna hear something positive about Hangman? I’ll give you Machado’s number.” There was a beat before she asked, “What are you gonna do, Bradley?”

“I don’t know.”

She fought the urge to groan. As much as she didn’t want to say what she was about to, she couldn’t stand there and lie. “The fact that you’re even weighing the pros and cons of this…” She shook her head. “You gotta talk to Roman.”

“And tell him what?”

“That’s on you. But he likes you. And I know you like him. But if you’re really thinking about going back into all of that with Hangman…there is definitely a conversation that needs to be had there.”

“You think it’s a dumb idea?”

She offered a smile. “I think that something being a dumb idea hasn’t ever stopped you before.”

“Real nice way of saying yes.”

She laughed. “Look, you know who you’re dealing with here. If you think that it’s gonna be different, that it could actually work out and not drive you completely insane in the process, then okay. If it’ll make you happy, then okay. I would just think about it first. Don’t do this just because one conversation threw you off—even you aren’t that stupid.”

Bradley was smiling as he shook his head. “Right. Thanks.”

“Either way, though, you gotta talk to—”

“I know,” he said with a nod. “I will.”

Bradley said that he would, and he did. He sat with himself for another day, weighing over his options and the likeliness of different outcomes. He tried to be logical enough to weigh what he wanted to happen against what was most likely going to happen. He thought about Roman, and how fun and easy it all was. Then he thought about how new it all still was, too, comparatively. It was always fun and easy at the beginning, or at least it should be. And if he was at the point where things were still that new and enjoyable with Roman, but he was still finding himself contemplating if he could make things work with Jake, it felt like that was all the answer that he needed. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them, really, for Bradley to try and drag it all out for the sake of hoping the feelings would go away. It would’ve been a much easier conclusion to come to if Roman hadn’t been so kind, and funny, and accepting. It would have been so much easier to follow through on what Bradley had to do next if he hadn’t enjoyed the company so much.

When Bradley turned up to his apartment a couple days later to have the conversation and deliver the verdict, he didn’t know what he expected to happen. He wasn’t expecting a fight, a screaming match—that didn’t seem like Roman’s style. He was hoping that things were still new enough, and that they were both mature enough, that it would be a disappointing but not a spiteful conversation. And it wasn’t—Bradley was fairly certain that Roman didn’t have a single ounce of spite in his body.

“I’m really sorry,” Bradley said as he sat back at Roman’s counter once more, forcing himself to look him in the eye even though he just wanted to stare at the floor instead.

The smile on Roman’s face was weak, but there was a genuine air about it too. “It’s okay—I get it.”

Bradley wasn’t used to things going so well with situations like that. Roman being so understanding about it all ironically made him feel worse about the entire fallout of it. He knew it was too soon to say that he wanted to stay in touch, to even try to be friends if it could all play out like that, but he also didn’t want to get up and leave without at least trying to get that point across. It wasn’t something that was going to happen immediately, but it’d been nice if it could happen eventually.

“I’m sorry. And I know you probably don’t—I just—I really do like you and if at some point—”

“Thank you,” Roman put him out of his misery as gently as he could.

Bradley sucked in a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Right. O-okay.”

It took a little bit for the weight to drop off his shoulders after that conversation. But he knew it was the right thing, which was why he was able to keep moving on from it without beating himself up too much over it. As the days went by it crossed his mind once or twice to reach out, but he knew that it wasn’t his place to do that, and that was okay. Maybe it would happen and maybe it wouldn’t. As it stood, he had plenty of other things to keep himself busy and occupied with.

He told Hangman what had happened a few days after the fact, once he’d had some time to sit with everything on his own. There was a moment when he wondered if he was going to say something about it directly, or if he was just going to let it come about naturally in conversation at some point. He knew that whenever, however, it came up, Jake was going to have some follow-up questions about it—that was what made him hesitate on breaking the news. Bradley didn’t know if he wanted to get into the reasons behind it all, if he was ready to open that door again.

But he ended up telling him. Of course he ended up telling him. In the back of Bradley’s mind, whatever Jake’s knee-jerk reaction to the news was, was going to give him an idea of where he was really at. It was easy to say and promise all sorts of things over the phone late at night when he was under no obligation to actually follow through on any of it. But now Jake was going to have to put his money where his mouth is, and Bradley was hoping that it would all work out, that Jake wouldn’t instantly fire back with something crass or sarcastic.

“Why’d that happen?” was all Jake said, face pensive, when Bradley told him that he decided to break things off with Roman.

The surprise on Bradley’s face was momentary before his expression grew serious again. He leaned against the closed door of his locker, also wondering for a split second why so many of their conversations had to happen there. “Because I think that, maybe, things could be different.”

Now it was Jake’s turn to look surprised. He even looked hopeful, which was a new look for someone who was so known for just looking cocky. “Yeah?”

Bradley nodded. “Yeah.”

It wasn’t just as simple as that, and neither of them thought that it would be. They took things slow, much slower than they had the first time around. Bradley thought that Hangman was just going to try and dive right back into things and hope for the best, but he didn’t. They were both still a little gun-shy about the entire thing, and rightfully so.

It was a lot of talking, having conversations that probably would have saved them the first time through if Jake had been ready to have them then. But he hadn’t. Then again, he was ready to have them now, or he was at least trying to be ready. It wasn’t all perfect, because it was still the two of them after all, but there was more effort being put in than there had been, and realistically that was all Bradley had been wanting the entire time.

Even with all of the late-night phone calls, the drop-in visits as they tried to navigate and rebuild a foundation that had been so shaken before, they still kept a small shred of distance. For once neither one of them had been brave enough, cocky enough, to try and cross that final threshold. There were opportunities, too, like when they were standing in the doorway of Bradley’s apartment and Jake was saying goodbye, or when they were the last two of their group still lingering at The Hard Deck even though they’d stopped drinking a while before.

They both knew they’d let it be a substitute, a band-aid, before, and they didn’t want to let it happen again. Once or twice Jake had been so tempted to make a snarky remark when he would see Bradley’s eyes drift to his lips, but he always stopped himself. It wasn’t like he had to say anything anyway for Bradley to know—he could tell by the cocky little smirk on Hangman’s face after the fact that he’d been caught. He didn’t say anything about that either.

Everyone was getting ready to leave The Hard Deck. It wasn’t exceptionally late, but they all knew that they were in for an early morning so they decided to quit while they were ahead. They all started saying their various goodbye’s and see you tomorrow’s as they split off in the parking lot. Natasha went to say goodbye to Rooster, noticing immediately that if she was going to do that, she was going to have to say goodbye to Hangman too considering how close they were standing to each other while they were talking by Rooster’s car. Part of her wanted to shake her head and roll her eyes at the sheer ridiculousness of the two of them, but even she couldn’t deny how different things had seemed between them, how much better. They seemed happier, even in the moments when they bickered during training. There was no real malice the way that there used to be.

“Bradshaw,” she said with a smile and a nod before turning to Jake and letting her expression get a little more serious, “Bagman.” They all chuckled for a moment before she stepped in and gave Bradley a brief hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya,” Bradley replied with a nod.

Jake let her get a few steps away before calling after her, “Sweet dreams, Phoenix!” He and Bradley both fell back into laughter when she responded to that with a middle finger as she continued walking away.

When the two of them quieted back down again, Jake turned and looked at Bradley, who was so casually leaning back against his car and toying with his keys. “You still gotta be home before midnight, Bradshaw?”

He laughed as he shrugged. “Only if you don’t want Phoenix hunting you down.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Right.”

There was a pause, both of them trying and failing to ignore the tension that had been thickening between them. It was a wonder either of them could breathe at this point. Clearing his throat, Bradley tried to sound as normal as possible as he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there.”

Bradley nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Jake watched as Bradley went to unlock the front door of his car. After a quick second of contemplation, he decided, fuck it, now was as good of a time as any. Reaching forward, he rested his hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “Hey.”

Bradley turned around, eyebrows raised like he was waiting for Hangman to ask him a question. What he was met with instead, however, was the feeling of Jake’s lips crashing into his. The shock of it all only lasted a moment before Bradley was giving right into him, keys clattering to the ground as he opted to grab onto Jake instead. He had one hand still on Bradley’s shoulder, the other cupping the side of his face.

It felt new and familiar all at once. Bradley was fairly certain that if Jake’s body wasn’t pinning him so effectively to the car, that he would’ve melted into a puddle in the middle of the parking lot. He wouldn’t have been upset about that either.

When they finally pulled apart, each of them catching their breath, Jake let his forehead drop to rest against Bradley’s. They each had a grin on their face, chests rising and falling from not just the kiss but the excitement, the relief of it all that there were some things that were still the same as they ever were and that it was a good thing.

“Now I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jake said with a smile, quieter than he usually was.

Bradley chuckled, wanting to part ways for the night even less now than he had before. “You could come over still.”

Jake chuckled and stepped away, stealing another quick kiss as he went. “I gotta be home before midnight too.”

“Liar,” Bradley said with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, grin growing wider by the second. “It’s just good to leave you wanting more.”

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x jake seresin #jake seresin x bradley bradshaw #rooster x hangman #hangman x rooster #hangster #fic in a box 2023 #fiab 2023 #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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kiwiana-writes · 4 months

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The way we get into each other's bones [Angstapalooza RWRB Edition] bc the multiminute podcast i got from u isn’t enough apparently

and also the only fans one, u know, for balance

The way we get into each other’s bones [Angstapalooza RWRB edition]

Lmaoooo the TWELVE MINUTE VOICE NOTE I sent you already gave you more info about this than I think anyone other than @ships-to-sail @celeritas2997 and @rmd-writes is privy to. BUT.

For those of you who aren’t in the middle of the Venn diagram between RWRB and Schitt’s Creek, a few years back I wrote a 53k canon divergence breakup/reconciliation fic that was dubbed “angstapalooza” while I was writing it. And based on people’s reactions… it earned the moniker. (It’s also, despite my overall reputation in SC as a smut/kink peddler, become The Work people associate with me, apparently. Or as @indestructibleheart put it: “mj being seen as someone who only writes angst is like how nick is gonna go down in history for playing gay royals. it's not their fault their angst fics just happen to be very memorable, but they actually have a full imdb of other roles.“ 😂😂😂

SO. When, halfway through writing the actor AU, I had a sudden idea for a multi-chapter canon divergence breakup/reconciliation fic… well. The appellation seemed appropriate. It also immediately terrified the RWRB/SC Venn diagrammers 😂

I really do just need to sit down and, like, focus on this one, because it’s by far my longest-languishing WIP. But here’s the start of the pitch: canon divergent from Rio, they start hooking up much earlier, and break up—spectacularly and angrily—a couple of months before Philip’s wedding. Cakegate is no longer antagonism and UST, it’s two very recent very hurt exes having to play the diplomatic bullshit in the public eye while seeing each other for the first time since breaking up.

There’s a prologue in media res that covers cakegate, then we flash back to Rio and see the progression of their relationship (before and after cakegate) from there. Angst with a happy ending, and many delicious things on the way I won’t spoil right now.

As a little treat, have the (heartbreaking!!) end of the prologue:

Later, what Alex will hate himself for the most isn’t the absolute waste of $75,000 worth of dessert. It won’t be the heartbroken look on Martha’s face, or the disappointed expression on his mom’s when he gets home, or the diplomatic shitstorm the whole thing threatens to kick off.

No, what Alex will hate himself for the most is that when they fall to the floor, Henry’s hands find their way to Alex’s hips, gripping tight enough that his fingers will probably leave bruises later—and just for a moment, it feels like coming home.

Hold up, rewind, knock me off of my feet [OnlyFans/Roommates]

I talked about this one here but have a little snippet because I genuinely love this fic. I just keep getting distracted by ooh-shinies

“I think I’m into Henry.”

“Right, no, I got that part somewhere in between hearing how pretty he is when he cries and you waxing rhapsodic about how he has, and I quote, ‘thighs that could crush a watermelon or, like, hang off a pole or something’.”

Alex blinks at her, confused. “What? I didn’t say anything about his thighs.”

“Not today.”

Two words should not be able to be that damning. He does vaguely recall saying that, actually, a few weeks after they moved in together and Alex had come home to find Henry in shorts for the first time.

Which, okay. It’s possible Alex has been ignoring a few signs. Big signs. Twelve foot tall signs that are so neon you kind of have to wonder if they’re radioactive.

[WIP tag game]

#wip tag game #affectionatelyrs #wip: hold up rewind knock me off of my feet #angstapalooza RWRB edition

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mostlymaudlin · 2 years

Text

fanfic writer challenge!

instructions:

list & explain the three lines/moments from canon that are most fundamental to how you write your fave character

challenge 3 more fic writers to do the same!

ill go first.... my fave simon snow series character is BAZ :)

"Please don't choke to death, Bunce. Imagine the humiliation of dying at the Cheesecake Factory." (Wayward Son, Chapter 15)

The Cheesecake Factory scene might just be one of my favorite moments in the whole series. I think it is just a perfect snapshot of what that book is all about. Everyone is in crisis -- Penny's breakup, Baz's thirst, Simon's slow burn of a mental breakdown. But Baz, whose crisis in this moment is arguably the most dire, slides right into the booth next to his blood bag of a bestie to comfort her. Do I think Baz's tendency toward self-sacrifice is healthy? Absolutely not. But it's so key to how he ticks. He cares so fucking much about his people, and he hates watching things suffer. He's a huge fuckin asshole (see above quote, lol) but he is also KIND.

"I know I usually come down here to tell you I'm sorry. But I think today I want to tell you that I'm going to be all right." (Carry On, Epilogue)

Do you ever just. Cry. This comes from the scene where Baz is talking to his mother at her tomb. I really love this scene because it feels fundamental to the path Baz chooses in Carry On. When we meet him, he is so resigned to living a life he hates, as a person he hates. But then Simon wants to be with him, and Penelope admires him, and he finishes 8th year without dying. And he's so goddamn hopeful. And tbh -- Baz was ALWAYS hopeful, that's why he was so miserable! He wasn't going down there COMPLAINING to his mother before, he was going down there to apologize, because he was hoping for things he shouldn't. But now he's got Simon and Penny and a future that looks like it could be okay, and he's starting to think he might BE someone who will be okay. And he's not going to apologize for that. And he's going to hope that his mother would be proud of him for doing what's best for himself.

"Took a break from sucking cock, actually." (Any Way The Wind Blows, Chapter 26)

Lmaoooo yes I do think I'm so funny. But actually that's why this quote is so important to me -- Baz is funny! Baz can be crass and rude and he's fucking done with being ashamed of things, so if you try to make him feel that way he'll shove it back in your face. He is so unapologetic about his principles. And he is not afraid to let everyone know that he's fucking obsessed with Simon Snow IN A VERY GAY WAY!!!

i'm going to tag a little more than 3 people in an attempt to get the ball rolling lol: @sillyunicorn @tea-brigade @urban-sith @starwarned @captain-aralias @aristocratic-otter @martsonmars @palimpsessed @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @amywaterwings

#my writing #im gonna do a separate one and tag aftg people tomorrow i think lol

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hekateinhell · 1 year

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so why do you think Armand and Lestat never actually went there? Even as just a doomed fling? Was anne just too into Armand being forever sad and pining? Was their hook-up the line she drew as the interconnecting relationships between this relatively small group of characters got more and more incestuous? was it a way to keep them on more equal footing as rivals? (not that they were EVER allowed to be equals with how Anne felt about Lestat, but you know) Or maybe it was the opposite and she never wanted Armand getting the power boost from Lestat's blood?

That's so hard to say!

I think for Armand (Anne through Armand, bear with me), Lestat was always The One That Got Away. In more than an amorous sense. But Armand's certainly still able to love him and be there for him and be around him; it did take a minute though.

Unfortunately for both of them, a lot of Armand's traumas came to nest in Lestat. And on Lestat's side, even accounting for the good--there's too much in common in terms of the abuses they've suffered and the numerous bad qualities they share. Lestat is not one to handle seeing his worst traits and his tormented past reflected right back to him.

We know how Armand feels about Lestat, and Anne has said that Lestat loves Armand deeply. As to why she never touched on it, she never spoke to that, and so we can only hypothesize. Anne obviously enjoyed writing them, seeing as she maintained that thread from TVL to BC! Armand does get to drink from Lestat at the end of TVA (because Lestat allows him to).

Personally, I think the A/L dynamic is all the richer for never having actually tipped over that precipice--there's nothing in VC like it! They do kiss a few times, they both admit to loving each other on paper, but it's still so ridiculously and deliciously complex and heightened. It is as good as it is for never having gone there.

Frequently in literature I feel that once a romantic relationship has been canonically established, it intends to inform a lot of the character development going forward one way or another--even if it doesn't last. It's not a one-and-done PWP that you can then remove from your universe and reset your characters.

I only say this because it is unlikely either Lestat or Armand would have survived a shared breakup... I mean, look at them. The only question is who would've instigated the murder-suicide. I work out my ship needs in fic while being thankful I never lost the allure of what drew me to them (separately and together) in canon.

Armand yearns, it is his nature! I remember seeing someone say somewhere, "If Louis is depression, then Armand is loneliness." But I don't get the sense he's actively pining for Lestat when he's with Louis and Daniel.

I do think Armand absolutely does idealize Lestat while craving his approval and affection in the manner he was trained to by Marius and the cult in order to survive.

Armand obtains this from Louis (Trinity Gate) and Daniel (RoA), but it doesn't seem like he ever fully knows where he stands with Lestat, and that's not something someone like Armand can cope with. It touches on an old festering wound; he then lashes out and Lestat retreats accordingly (which is the exact same behavior Lestat himself exhibits, whoops).

I do love this scene at the end of Blood Communion where Lestat, dancing with Louis and celebrating his newfound family, shares this little silent communication Armand in the second-to-last page:

I looked at Armand. He was splendidly attired in burgundy velvet, himself once more, his fingers covered with jeweled rings as he clapped along with the others. I could not quite believe the calm, accepting expression on his face, but then he nodded. It was just a small nod, a nod no one else would have noticed, but I saw it and I saw him smile again.

And I think it says a lot about how they have come to view each other and the evolution of their relationship by the very end of the Chronicles--it only took 236 years to get there.

#listen. i love them.#i have had time to think about it since 2007.#dear god lmao i'm on two hours of sleep and i'm noticing all the spelling & grammar errors here my bad y'all #you ask and hekate answers #mildly meta #vc #armand/lestat #armand #lestat de lioncourt

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i-like-turkey · 1 year

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Kate Whistler: Bottom

Had someone ask me in a comment on my latest fic why I write Kate as more submissive in my fics. I went long on it. Posting it here in case anyone else was wondering:

This is a topic I’ve put A LOT of thought into. Like hours and hours and hours of thought as I write all this filth. The first and most vital point here is that this is just my interpretation. This is how I see the characters and how I view their dynamic. There is no right or wrong answer, so if it doesn’t work for you or anyone else, that’s absolutely valid.

That said, early season 1 Whistler gives off major top vibes. See the way she storms into the bullpen yelling at Tennant and goes into that interrogation at the end of the episode. That has my bratty bottom ass sweating and saying ‘yes ma’am, I’ll do anything you ask’ 😂

But the more we see of her, the more she softens. See her melting in the parking lot in 1x06 when Lucy touches her face. See all her wounded puppy looks after the Cara reveal. See how she’s always twisting her fingers nervously. This is when she becomes ‘Kate’ to me and this is why I view her as having two personas. ‘Work Whistler’ who is incredibly good at her job. Tough as nails. Takes no prisoners. And then there’s ‘Kate.’ Useless lesbian. Bad at emotions. Is a workaholic because being Whistler is more comfortable and easier than being Kate.

I headcanon that before Lucy she was more comfortable topping. That’s because I don’t think she had any serious relationships—that’s sorta supported by canon given that she’d never introduced anyone at work—, preferring to keep things casual and viewing sex as an outlet for all her stress. And she would have had a lot of that. Law school is fucking hell. Good luck maintaining an existing relationship during those three years when you’re grinding your ass 18-20 hours a day 7 days a week (so many divorces/breakups in my graduating class!!!) & good luck forming one when you have minimal time to spend getting to know someone. Casual sex though? That’s doable.

Then she would have graduated and been thrown into the fire somewhere. I’m thinking corporate law. Big firm. You work just as hard cause there are billable hour targets to meet and networking stuff and heaps of pressure to be the best cause you want a future at the firm and you only get one of those if you produce. Then she would have given all of that up. Gone to the DIA. Guess what? Same grind. Just shittier pay.

So I see her fucking her way through this. One night stands, sure. Maybe a few long term friends with benefits situations where they aren’t even really friends. Just someone she knows she can call when she needs to get off. I think she would have been in control for most of this because she has a healthy ego and loves using her mouth and she probably took great pride in how she could give women dozens of orgasms and turn them in to mush.

But over time I think she learned that giving up control can be very freeing. Especially since her life—aka her professional existence— is all about being in control. So being able to give that up for a few hours in the bedroom would likely be appealing to her. Because when you get topped. Like really, really topped. Orgasms for hours with minimal reciprocation. Your brain just kinda turns off and you really do get a brief escape from all the life shit that’s bothering you and all the decisions you have to make and all the appearances that you have to keep up. And the more we learn about Kate, the more I think she would need this.

FF to when she goes to Hawaii and meets Lucy. She met Lucy as ‘Kate’, not ‘Whistler’ because they didn’t exchange last names. I think that weekend was life changing for both of them. They clicked immediately. Felt comfortable around each other. Felt safe. So I think right away, Kate just rolled over and bottomed for Lucy. But she also took control at times during that weekend and Lucy let her have it (which as I’ve hinted at in this fic, wasn’t exactly easy for Lucy. But we’re talking Kate here, so I’ll save my Lucy top analysis for later).

After that weekend, she probably went back to being more of a top. But once she was with Lucy 1x06-1x11 (or even earlier if you headcanon that they were fucking before that like me 😂), she embraced giving up control. And that continued post 1x22 when they reconciled and got to know each other and developed a relationship that’s not surfboard strong, but strong enough to move in with each other after ~4-6 months of really dating.

TLDR: Pre-Lucy she leaned top with ‘top in the streets, bottom in the sheets’ tendencies. With Lucy she’s embracing ‘top in the streets, bottom in the sheets,’ but can still top whenever the situation calls for it. And the situation will call for it more as Lucy gets more comfortable giving up control.

P.S. This isn’t an invitation for feedback on my interpretation. I like how I view it. I will continue writing their dynamic this way and only evolve it to fit with what we learn in canon. Cause, once again, I’m driving the bus. If you don’t like it, you can get off and find another ride.

#kate x lucy #kate whistler #kacy headcanon

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e-wills-afterhours · 8 months

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Hi there! How are you?

I'm so sorry to be bothering you with this, but I just really, really need to know what happens in Vetrnaetr. Do you plan on writing more? If not, would you just tell us how the story ends? Do things between Hiccup and Astrid get better? Do they forgive eachother and try to get the relationship right?

Your story is just too good, makes me wonder about it all the time. Thank you for writing such wonderful stories ❤️

Hey friend!

You are not bothering me! I do plan on finishing it, but writing anything at all is a bit difficult for me to manage right now--a multichapter longfic is peak difficulty. I haven't worked on the next chapter in ages (all I recall is it starts with Astrid regretting the letter she wrote and stressing over whether she just killed her relationship), so I would have to find the time to re-read what I've published of Vetrnaetr so far, for the sake of continuity, before I could get back into chipping away at it. My personal life is not allowing for such a blessing of free time at the moment. I can't even give you an estimate of when that will get better. Nothing bad is going on; quite the contrary, my cup runneth over.

Additionally, my creative focus is changing. While I wouldn't say I've completely lost interest in Hiccstrid or HTTYD, I've found myself gravitating more and more towards original work that I haven't posted here, simply because there's not really a want for it. I don't think anyone really cares that much about my worldbuilding and novel plotting that will probably never result in anything anyway but it's nice to have dreams.

I won't give you all the nitty gritty details below the cut, because I might actually finish Vetrnaetr one day, but I will provide some vague and general spoilers below in case that never happens. For your peace of mind friend.

Spoilers:

Hiccup returns from Helgafell but since the Vetrnaetr festival is kicking off, he and Astrid do not have much of an opportunity to talk and reconcile; Astrid can tell Hiccup is distant and she is afraid that their breakup is inevitable. She also laments all the implications of a breakup after everything they've been through privately and publicly.

Stefnir takes more opportunities to be a smug asshole, because of course he does.

Hiccup struggles with expectations of change and personal growth from both his father and Astrid; reflects on what that growth and change looks like and what it would mean for him, personally.

Festival is a blast. Astrid realizes she's been a bit of a demanding asshole toward Hiccup and should have been more understanding and tactful in her approach instead of giving him ultimatums to become someone he fundamentally isn't. Damn Ruffnut was right. Astrid gets drunk.

Hiccup realizes he does have a lot of growth left, and not just for others' sake, but his own too. He realizes Astrid had some valid points and if staying in a perpetual adolescent mindset means he loses her, then he doesn't want it. He understands, unintentionally, he has been a bit self-absorbed and selfish.

Hiccup confides this to Gobber who gives some sage advice about growing up in all facets of life, but no more than is absolutely necessary to preserve joy.

First night of festival winds down in the wee hours of the morning. Astrid is passed out now. Hiccup and Toothless get her home. Shenanigans occur because, in a village of drunk Vikings, of course they do.

Astrid wakes up hungover with no recollection of how she got home in bed, but notices whoever got her home took great care to make sure she was comfortable.

Hiccup comes to check on her. They finally get to talk after some self-reflection the night before. They both admit their wrongs and acknowledges where the other person was right, but also refine their personal boundaries and expectation. Yay for healthy reconciliation and open and honest communication. Commitment to one another renewed.

Fic ends with emotional and very physical expressions of love.

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lonestardaily · 2 years

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Each week Lone Star Daily looks to provide you with a decent (not comprehensive) list of the fanfics that have been posted for the week. The week runs from Friday - Thursday, as that way it does give us an opportunity to put the list together. There’s no requirement to tag us as we will check the tags #911 lone star fic and #911lsfic while also combing through ao3. We currently are only going to post new fics, not updates. You can check out this week’s fics below the cut.

All our past recs can be found on this page.

Please feel free to give this post a boost to give our writers a chance to receive some love for the work they do for the fandom.

(if your fic is not tagged with a tumblr, it’s because we couldn’t find one - feel free to send us a message and we’ll be happy to add one)

TARLOS FICS

It was always you by @chaotictarlos

↳ (TK x Carlos | Break Up/Make Up | G | 3.3K)

Sometimes in order to find out just how much you’re meant to be with someone, you have to fall apart and lose them first.

what I want (what you deserve) by @rmd-writes

↳ (TK x Carlos | Coda | E | 4K)

TK might feel numb, he might feel like everything is grey, but for Carlos, TK burns bright; there’s something shining in him that Carlos is inexplicably drawn to, wants to draw the embers out of him so he can see it for himself. He doesn’t even know TK, not really, but he knows this – TK is good. He’s beautiful. Carlos wants him to feel like it.

So Carlos waits for TK to come to him, he makes him feel good, he gives TK whatever TK will let him give and tries to bank the sparks in his chest that are threatening to grow into something more. It’s not enough, but it’s what he can have.

Besides, he hates being the one to do the chasing.

Say you’ll be mine by @chaotictarlos

↳ (TK x Carlos | Friends to Lovers | G | 1.6K)

In which TK and Carlos are mutually pinning for each other because of course they are.

Too Far from Me by @moviegeek03

↳ (TK x Carlos | Hurt/Comfort | G | 4K +)

Nothing was what either had planned. For Carlos, he had planned to move out of this shoddy apartment and into his dream home months ago. Then, everything changed. The original 126 crew were all gone. All the people he’d known for years. For TK, well, he’d lost his sobriety, his supposed soulmate, his home. Everything had changed. For both of them. Neither knew how much more it would change for them. Not until one night where they start talking to each other through the thin walls of their crappy apartments.

soul to soul, skin to skin by @marjansmarwani

↳ (TK x Carlos | Hurt/Comfort | T | 1.6K)

Sometimes it’s easy to pretend that they were never apart, that their breakup had been nothing more than a bad dream. But as much as they might like that to be the case, there are some reminders that are too tangible to be ignored. Exhibit A: a scar on Carlos that was absolutely not there before and forces TK to grapple with the idea of what could have happened during time apart.

for you, i’d fall by @chaotictarlos

↳ (TK x Carlos | AU | G | 2.3K)

Prompt: “AU where TK and Carlos are both single parents who see each other every morning when they drop their kids off at daycare. They start chatting each morning, does it lead to something more?”

First day of school by Road1985

↳ (TK x Carlos | AU | T | 4.3K)

Carlos and TK are the two new teachers at a prestigious school. Carlos is a Spanish teacher, idealistic and full of dreams to share with his students. The other is a newcomer to Austin, with a few ghosts on his back but full of illusions with an eye on all the science experiments he is going to do with his students.

Carlos is gay and soon sets his sights on TK, but TK doesn't seem to have noticed him. Bad luck because the new science teacher has taken a liking to him from the get-go.

To a Future Full of Clear Skies by @noxsoulmate

↳ (TK x Carlos | Hurt/Comfort | G | 3.1K)

Ladies and gentlemen, regular boarding for flight HA 81 to Oahu – Honolulu is now open. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.

~*~

Of course, fate just had to mess with them on their big day. Why wouldn’t it? But now TK and Carlos are finally here, on their way to Hawaii, ready for their honeymoon – and things seem to be turning for the better at last…

Home by Nanerich

↳ (TK x Carlos | Canon Divergence | T | 8.5K)

A last minute call almost sends TK to rock bottom. While saving someone, Carlos gets hurt, badly. And even if they're not together anymore, TK can't bring himself to leave Carlos' side, hoping that he wakes up and they can figure their issues out.

Can we always be this close by rayraye

↳ (TK x Carlos | Fluff | N/R | 1.7K)

During the night of their bachelor parties TK gets a text from his husband to be only to realize his fiancé had texted him while drunk. cue, both TK and Carlos being very in love with each other until Lexi Mitchell sends him a photo of his drunk fiancé passed out.

how did we get here? by @detective-giggles

↳ (TK x Carlos | AU | G | 2.3K)

Distracted, TK turns back to the window. His heart pounds when he doesn’t immediately see his daughter until he spots her sitting on the floor in the corner with some Legos.

“She’s gonna be okay, you know. She didn’t look worried when you dropped her off.”

“You were watching my kid?” TK’s attention snaps back to Carlos.

“Huh? Oh. No, not exactly? I was watching you, actually.”

Or, 4 times Carlos could have asked TK out and the 1 time he did.

Caught in the Rapids by LynnOver

↳ (TK x Carlos | Hurt/Comfort | T | 2.3K)

After some kayaking gone wrong, the 126 are called in to rescue some stuck teens. Unfortunately, TK Strand is a danger magnet and rivers are more deadly than they seem.

a good friend knows all your stories, a best friend helped you create them... by westallenkiss

↳ (TK x Carlos | Fluff | G | 1.4K)

Michelle, Marjan, and Nancy get to listen to Carlos and TK's vows before the wedding when they realize they are actual soulmates having the same opening speech...

OTHER PAIRINGS/CHARACTER FICS

i only have eyes (for you) by @marwani-strickland

↳ (Paul x Marjan | Spec Fic | T | 2K)

paul and marjan talk about their feelings.

rejoice your truth by @doublel27

↳ (TK x Nancy | Found Family | G | 2K)

TK and Nancy volunteer to staff a medic tent for the Austin Pride Parade and share some of their experiences through loving trolling. Companion fic: Proud of You by @neelyo67

lightning & thunder by @marwani-strickland

↳ (Paul x Marjan | Enemies to Lovers | E | 20K)

marjan didn't want to hear it. she despised paul, despised him and the way he was arrogant. She hated the way he had a big ego, and he was always worried about himself and nobody else, always jumping at the chance to be popular with people- mostly women- and that annoyed marjan to no end.

clear head, clearer heart by @marwani-strickland

↳ (Tommy x Owen | Coda | T | 1.5K)

tommy and owen go out for lunch.

in uncertain terms by iinryer

↳ (Marjan Marwani, Marjan x TK | Canon Divergence | G | 17 K+)

She’s been working through some shit, and clearly it’s going to get messy before she can fully put herself back together again.

—

after salim, marjan gets hurt on a call, and the recovery time leaves her with a little too much room to think. realizations ensue.

a story about self discovery, acceptance, family in friendship, and letting yourself be uncertain. aka: the marjan manifesto

please don’t take my sunshine away by @charlieryder

↳ (Michelle x Nancy x Tim, Judd x Grace | Hurt/Comfort | T | 1K)

There’s many things that terrify a first responder.

For starters, going to an emergency call where they know the address or the people involved in the accident, because then you have to pretend, and suck it up, and be professional.

Then the other one, is when a first responder you know, is the subject of a call, and you know that they have people waiting on the other side for them.

#ls daily ff #911 lone star #911 lone star fic

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mrworldwideshoulders · 2 years

Text

Absolute Zero || reader x JHS

Pairing: reader x JHS (kinda sorta not really? you’ll see); feat. Yoongi, Jin, JK, and Taehyung (very briefly) Word count: 5.5k Rating: rated M / R Genre: angst, smut (if you squint), breakup au Summary: Everyone thinks he’s crazy for still being hung up on you after this long, but he can’t stop thinking about the one who got away, spending his nights writing letters he’ll never send and words you’ll never read. Inspired by Talking to the Moon - Bruno Mars. Warnings: very angsty; you might cry a lil bit, strong language probably, implied smut/sexual content, alcohol consumption. A/N: hellooooo I am very excited to share my first fic with you! I love this one so much, like really, so much. It’s one of my favorites and idk if you can tell but I’m really proud of this one. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing, and let me tell you, I really enjoyed writing it. tell me your thoughts in the notes; I'd love to hear em! please be gentle though T_T shoutout to my bestest pal and actual sister @onmypillow-onmytable for this excellent banner and for beta-reading! Thx! ly - robyn P.S. I do not own BTS or their likenesses, nor do I own the music of Bruno Mars, lol, they simply inspire me.

part of the Hooligans collection

inspo playlist here

absolute zero: the lowest temperature that is theoretically possible, at which the motion of particles that constitutes heat would be minimal.

Dear y/n,

I keep asking myself why you left, and nothing I can come up with makes any sense. All I ever did was love you, y/n. What about that was so wrong? I know it wasn’t part of the agreement we had, but I never planned it this way. I couldn’t help my feelings. You have to understand that, y/n. I never wanted to push you away. I wanted to keep you close, and I couldn’t even do that.

I can’t stop myself from thinking about you every day. Wondering where you are. Where you went. What you’re doing. Your number doesn’t work. Your email’s been deactivated. It’s almost as if you’ve dropped off the face of the planet, y/n. Is that where you are? Outer space? You might as well be, as far as I know. I hope you’re doing all right, wherever you are. I don’t think I could live knowing something terrible happened to you. Maybe not knowing anything is better. Take care of yourself, y/n. Until we meet again.

Love always,

Hoseok

Hoseok blinks awake, startled out of a fitful sleep by some unconscious sensation of falling in a dream, stopping suddenly before he can hit the ground. They say dreams where you’re falling always stop before you can hit the ground, something about how if you die in a dream you die in real life too. He wishes the dream wouldn’t have stopped, wondering what it feels like to slam into hard ground, to shatter into a million little pieces, not knowing if someone will come along to sweep him up into a dustpan and piece him back together. He’s not familiar with the sensation. He only knows falling, perpetually, waiting in suspended animation, never reaching the ground. He reaches out a hand, only to find the spot next to him desolate and empty, illuminated in cold, bluish moonlight. The memories come rushing back to him all at once: the same vacant space where you used to sleep, of waking up alone, the same harsh moonlight spotlighting his solitude, a pale white envelope on the pillow next to him. His name, written on the outside in your delicate hand.

Hoseok, you wrote,

I know about the ring, and I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. You never even had to say it. It’s written all over your face every time I look at you: you love me. And you want to marry me. The wedding, the kids, the happily ever after, you want it all. You want too much from me, Hoseok, and I can’t give it to you. Our arrangement was simple: no feelings, no strings, no expectations. It was never supposed to go this far. I let my guard down too much, and I've already let you have too much of me. It was cruel of me to do that. I should have turned you down from the moment you asked me to dance because I knew in my heart I was only ever going to break yours: your sweet, gentle, loving heart. That moment, when you smiled at me and told me your name - that was it. I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t hold myself back.

I know it makes me a coward to do this while you’re asleep, but I can’t bear to see your face when I tell you I’m leaving, Hoseok. Consider this my first and last act of love. Please don’t come looking for me, because you won’t be able to find me. We won't meet again. You’re a good man, and you deserve someone who wants the same things as you, someone who can make you happy. That can never be me, and I’m sorry. I hope you find her one day. She'll be a lucky girl, whoever she is, to have landed a man like you. Treat her well. I know you will. I hope she does the same for you.

Do you know what the saddest part of this is? I think I really could love you someday.

Sweet dreams, Hobi.

-Y/n

He drags himself to his feet and crosses the room to the dresser, where he pulls out a small black velvet box and flicks it open. The platinum-diamond setting, costing a little more than three months’ worth of his paycheck, glitters in the moonlight with an unearthly sort of beauty. He’d never even gotten the chance to give it to you, only ever showing it to his best friend after he’d bought it. “Do you think she’ll like it?” he’d asked.

“Well, I mean, I’d say yes if you proposed to me with this,” Yoongi had said. “But…are you sure about this? Didn’t she tell you she didn’t want any hangups?”

Hoseok closes the box with a snap and drops it back into the drawer. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to get rid of it, thinking somehow he might need it again when you finally return. He heads out onto the balcony, pen and paper in tow. The air is quiet, the world below still tucked under the dark covers of somewhere just after midnight, when the full moon is at its brightest.

Dear y/n,

It’s a full moon tonight. I never thought about them before I met you, they were all just something that happened in the background. You always reminded me when they were supposed to happen, and you told me they all meant something different depending on the month. I think it was the cold moon when you left. It’s May now, that’s the flower moon. It doesn't really matter anyway. Every full moon feels cold to me now. It’s stuff like that I can’t forget, you and the names of those moons. Can you see the moon from where you are? Is your moon the same as mine? Nights like these are when I miss you the most, y/n, when the full moon rises and you’re not here in my arms. It’s starting to get warmer now, but everything still feels cold without you. You said you thought you could love me one day, y/n. Why didn’t you stay and find out? I just can’t wrap my head around it. I have all of these questions and I don't know if I'll ever find answers. I wish you had stayed, at least long enough to explain it to me.

Take care of yourself, y/n. Until we meet again.

Love always,

Hoseok

He meets up with his best friend for lunch the next day, though he doesn’t do much except pick at his food. Yoongi watches him intently, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Aish, just leave it if you’re not going to eat it,” he says, frowning.

Hoseok sets down his chopsticks and shifts his gaze to stare out the window. Food doesn’t hold much appeal for him anymore, not since you left. Nothing does, really.

“What do you think about going on a blind date?” says Yoongi. “I was talking to one of the waitresses at that new club I was spinning at last week. She’s pretty, seems nice. Seems like you two have a lot in common. I think you might hit it off. I’ll give her your number if you want, next time I’m over there.”

The idea of meeting someone new is almost too much to consider. How could he even think about going out with someone else when you might come back any day now? Hoseok shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Thanks, but…I can’t right now.”

Yoongi sighs and goes silent for a moment. “It’s been six months since she left. You can’t go on like this forever. It’s delusional."

He shrugs, smiling sadly. “Not yet.”

His mother is there when he gets home, the only person other than you and his best friend who knows his apartment code. She comes by almost every other weekend to fill up his refrigerator with leftovers and side dishes, fearing he doesn’t know how to eat properly when she’s not there to cook for him. She doesn't like any of it: that he lives alone, that she can't always be there to look after him, that he took a job here after college instead of moving back home. “Hoseok, I was noticing…” she starts, after they’ve greeted each other. “These are the same dishes I brought you last time. You haven’t eaten them yet?” She gestures at the dishes on the top shelf of the fridge.

“No,” he says. “Just haven’t gotten to them, that’s all.” He doesn’t like to worry her. How could he say that not even her cooking does anything for his lack of appetite? She wouldn’t understand. She never even knew you existed. All she knows is that she has a son who won’t eat her cooking.

"But you’re so thin. Are you sure you're eating properly?" His mother reaches up to touch his face, pinching his cheek. "You look like you’re wasting away.”

“Of course I have,” he deflects. “I’m fine.”

She eyes him skeptically. “Really? You seem so depressed these days. And you won’t tell me what’s going on. I’m worried about you. You’re not overworking yourself, are you? You look exhausted.” His mother pauses, biting her lip. “Why don’t you come home for a bit and let me take care of you? I’m sure your father would like to see you too. It must be tiring, living in the city all by yourself. Some time in the country would be good for you.”

“Everything is fine,” he reassures her, though he’d like nothing more than to spend a week or two at home in Gwangju, where there’s nothing to remind him of you. “There’s a big project at work, and the client’s being difficult, so things are just…kind of rough right now. But I’ll get through it.” It’s surprising how easily the lie makes its way out of his mouth. “I’ll come home soon. I promise.”

She still looks dubious, but she goes to depart regardless, making Hoseok swear he’ll have empty dishes ready for her to take back the next time she comes. He watches her leave, longing to fall into her arms and explain everything. There was a girl. I loved her. I only wanted to make her happy. But she left me, and I can’t understand why. It hurts. It hurts so much. Nothing feels right without her. Tell me it gets easier, Mom. Tell me one day it won’t hurt as much. Would she understand? No, she wouldn’t. No one could ever understand.

Dear y/n,

My mother came by today to bring me food. I’ve told her a thousand times I’m an adult and I can take care of myself, but I don’t think she’ll ever get over wanting to feed me all the time. She’s worried about me. I think she thinks I might be losing it. She wanted me to come home for a while, out in the country. That would be good, wouldn’t it, y/n? I always wanted to bring you there sometime, to show you where I grew up. Gwangju is nice. You would have liked it there. I would have taken you there someday, introduced you to my friends and family back home. I wish you would have let me introduce you to my parents. My sister, too. They would have liked you if they’d ever gotten a chance to meet you. We were always so secretive, y/n. They never even knew we were together.

Yoongi says I’m just deluding myself, that you’re not coming back. Everyone else says the same thing too: Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, all of them. But I can’t make myself accept that. What does someone like Jungkook know about love, anyway? He’s practically a baby. He’s probably never even been in love before. Y/n, sometimes I wonder if you can hear me as I’m writing these letters. Are you out there somewhere, listening to me? Are you out there talking to me too? Are we still connected somehow? I’d like to think we are. That’d be nice. Better than the alternative.

Take care of yourself, y/n. Until we meet again.

Love always,

Hoseok

Hoseok can't remember how long he's been here, or how long he's been drinking. He's lost count of which drink he's on. He's not even quite sure where he is, though he knows it’s a bar of some type. Sounds and voices swirl around him, fading in and out, muffled, rippling, as if he’s deep underwater. He squints at the barstool next to him, thinking, if he focuses hard enough, that he can see your figure next to him, leaning against the bar, in the dress you were wearing when he first saw you. He remembers that night, far more clearly than he should. Seeing you across the crowded dance floor. Only introducing himself because his friends had dared him to, saying how far out of his league you had to be. Your smile, something sad behind it, even then. Back up against the wall as he fumbled with the door to his apartment, struggling to keep your hands off each other, the two of you stumbling down the hall in the dark leaving a trail of clothes in your wake, shoes kicked off, that dress abandoned somewhere in the living room, his jacket slung haphazardly over a chair, until you finally made it to the bed, fully exposed, your bare skin practically iridescent in the light of the full moon, beckoning him closer. Losing himself in you, in your body. Passionate moans and breathy sighs. Your breath on his ear, whispering his name, your voice sending shivers down his spine. Waking up the next morning with you curled into his arms, head resting against his chest, as if you were always meant to be there. Your hair, your eyes, your smudged makeup from the night before, everything about you - perfect. He's gone back to that night a thousand times, relived those moments over and over in his mind, wishing with everything in him that he could go back in time to keep himself from ever seeing you, from ever daring to speak to you. To satisfy the part of him that wishes he had never met you, and to hell with the part of him that never regretted a single moment.

As soon as he reaches out to touch you, your image evaporates, dissipating like a reflection on smooth water. “Y/n,” he mumbles. “Where did you go?” He rests one cheek against the cool surface of the bar, lulled by the warm feeling of the alcohol and the swishing sound thumping in his ears. I don’t want to be alone, he thinks. Please don’t leave me alone. A warm, comforting black blanket sweeps over him, blocking out the sound and light from around him.

He becomes aware of reality again when he notices the feeling of someone shaking his arm. “Hey,” sounds a voice in his ear. “Hey you, wake up.” He slowly comes to, sitting up and looking around. The bartender who’s been serving him all night is leaning on the counter, arms crossed. Her face is a mixture of resigned annoyance, as if she’s had to deal with this one too many times. “It’s last call,” she says. “We’re closing. You want to close your tab, or what?”

“Go ahead,” he says, sitting up and dropping the side of his face into his palm. She walks off and returns moments later, sliding a receipt across the counter to him.

“Are you going to be all right to get home?” she asks. “Do you want me to get you a cab? Or is there someone I can call for you?”

Y/n, he thinks. “No,” says Hoseok. “Don't worry about it. I'll be fine.” He stands up and immediately stumbles.

“Okay, you’re not going anywhere,” says another voice, one that sounds familiar. Yoongi pulls Hoseok’s arm over his shoulders and steadies him. “Come on, I’ve got you.”

“Yoongi?” he slurs. “What are you doing here?”

“You drunk-dialed me, remember?” says Yoongi dryly. “Well, no, I don't guess you'd remember. That was a while ago. I thought you'd have gotten home by now.”

He doesn’t say anything, allowing Yoongi to drag him along.

“You really gotta stop doing this,” Yoongi grumbles.

“What, drinking alone?” Hoseok chuckles goofily, reaching out his index finger to poke Yoongi in the cheek.

“No,” Yoongi says, slapping his hand away. “Whatever this is. Beating yourself up over every little thing. Drinking until you pass out. I’m your best friend, Hob-ah. You know I’ll be there whenever I can, but I can’t always be there to drag your sorry ass back home. I have my own life too. The one time I don't pick up my phone you’re going to get so pissed drunk you’ll wander out into the middle of the street and get yourself hit by a bus or something, and you won’t even notice.”

“You worry too much,” mutters Hoseok. “You should get together with my mom.”

Yoongi sighs and doesn’t say anything else until they’re home, releasing Hoseok to fall onto the couch. “Probably fucked up my shoulder even more just dragging you home,” he complains. “Fuck, I can’t deal with this anymore. I don’t know how you can either. She’s gone. Not coming back. It’s the truth. You need to accept that. The sooner you do the sooner we can all get on with our lives. You'll never be able to move on if you're just sitting here wallowing in the past and what might've been.”

“I can’t,” he mumbles. “It hurts too much. If she'd given me a chance—”

“What? You could have changed her mind? Gotten her to stay?” Yoongi sits down on the ottoman across from him. “Hobi, I hate to break it to you, but you couldn’t have stopped her from leaving any more than I could have. She knew what she wanted. You knew, too, and you still let yourself fall for her. She was always going to leave because you were always going to let your heart get involved. That’s just the kind of person you are. It wasn't a matter of if, it was just a matter of when. You were never cut out for that kind of relationship, and I don’t know why you insisted on pretending like you were. You wouldn’t have been happy with that kind of arrangement in the long run, and if you think I’m wrong you’re just lying to yourself.”

He lets that sink in. Yoongi is wrong - he’s sure of it. He would have been happy. You could’ve been, too. Things could have changed - he could have made you happy. “Get out,” says Hoseok, rubbing his eyes. “Just…leave me alone. Please.”

Yoongi stands up. “Fine. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He lets himself out, allowing the door to slam behind him.

The room suddenly feels unbearably small and stuffy, and deafeningly silent now that he's alone again. He stumbles his way over and out to the balcony, gasping slightly as the cool evening breeze lands on his flushed cheeks. The moon is in a different phase now, waning from the full in preparation for the new. Even so, the stars seem somehow brighter tonight. He stares up, transfixed by the sky, every star where it’s supposed to be. Every star except you, the one that’s supposed to be right next to him. He allows himself to get lost in the starfield, hoping to find some indicator that you're still out there, that you've simply fallen out of orbit and gotten lost somewhere out in space, just like he is now, drifting through, waiting for someone to reach out and grab your hand and pull you back toward them.

That's the last thing he remembers when he comes to the next morning, early, as the sun is making its way into the sky again, sitting upright in one of the chairs he leaves on the balcony. His neck is stiff, his back is sore, his head is pounding angrily, and his search for you in deep space was once again unsuccessful. He hears the sound of birds, of the early morning buses, feels the sunlight on his face, smells the scent of a spring morning in Seoul. All of it only serves as a reminder that he's here, alone, without you. You're not lost in space. You're not here. You're not anywhere. You're somewhere far away, beyond his reach or anyone else's. You're not his anymore.

Maybe you never were.

Dear y/n,

You said you couldn’t be the one to make me happy. If that’s the truth, then why do I feel so empty without you? Why does the world feel so cold when you’re not here? I was happy with you, y/n. You didn’t even have to try to make me happy. As long as you were there, I was happy. That’s why I wanted to marry you. To have you by my side for the rest of my life was all I ever wanted. It would have been enough just to wake up next to you every morning, to hold you close, to look into your eyes and see you when you’re groggy and half-asleep. For you to be the one I came home to every night, to be the only one I’d ever be with. If I could have had that, I would have been happy for the rest of my life.

But maybe you were right. Maybe I was asking too much. Maybe I wanted too much. You weren’t ready. I know that now. But y/n, I would have waited forever if you asked me to. I could have been patient. We would have figured it out together. I know I could have made you happy too, if you’d only given me a chance. Since you cut me loose, I’m just drifting around, lost in space. I’ve tried to forget you. It's been six months. By all logic I should have already forgotten you and moved on by now. But I can’t. I tried to drink you away, but I couldn't. It only made your face clearer in my mind. I still see you everywhere I go. What am I supposed to do now, y/n? When my heart still aches for you, even though you’re the one who broke it? When all the alcohol in the world couldn't even make me forget you? What am I supposed to do now? I don’t just miss you, y/n, I need you. I hate you, but I still need you. What sense does that make?

I'm sorry. My head is pounding. I'm going to bed now.

Hoseok

He’s preparing for another night in when there’s a sudden pounding at his door. Half expecting you, or god forbid, Yoongi, he opens it, finding Jin and Jungkook outside instead, and he can’t help but feel a tad disappointed, though admittedly his friends are a welcome sight. He can barely remember the last time he even saw Jin or Jungkook or any of them other than Yoongi, to be honest.

“See, I told you he was in there,” says Jin cheerfully, shooting Jungkook a sideways glance. “He barely goes anywhere these days. And he always opens the door when he knows it’s me. Isn’t that right, Hobi?” He pushes his way past him, clapping Hoseok good-naturedly on the shoulder.

“What do you guys want?” he says, following them into the kitchen. Jungkook is perched on one of the barstools while Jin leans against the counter.

“Yah! Who says we’re here because we want something?” demands Jin indignantly. “The restaurant gave me the night off for once so we’re going out. We wanted to stop by and say hello, that’s all. Can’t we say hello to our friend that we haven’t seen in a while?”

“Hi,” says Hoseok. “So where are you headed?”

“We’re meeting Taehyungie at that club downtown,” replies Jungkook. “That new one Yoongi-hyung keeps talking about. We thought we'd finally go check it out.”

“Oh.” He hasn’t been out to a club since before you left. “Have fun then, I guess.”

“Well, if you’re not doing anything…” Jin says, looking at Hoseok pointedly.

“Yeah!” Jungkook’s face brightens noticeably. “Come out with us, hyung. Please?” With his big, earnest doe eyes, he looks so innocent that if it weren’t for his muscled arms no one would ever believe he was a professional MMA fighter. “We haven’t gone out together in ages.”

“Yeah, Hobi, come with us,” pipes Jin. “We never see you. You don’t go out anymore. And you’ve been so down ever since…” He hesitates when he sees Hoseok’s face. “Well, all I’m saying is that you deserve to have some fun. Live a little. You know?” He sidles up next to him, nudging him gently with his elbow. “Come on, let’s do something together. You used to love going out. Things haven’t been the same without you. And you know Kookie will desert me the second he gets a better offer anyway, like he always does. You should come. Keep me and Tae company.”

“I don’t do that every time!” protests Jungkook.

"Almost every time," retorts Jin. He turns back to him. “Please? We miss you, Hobi. Not just because you don’t go out anymore, but the way you used to be. You’re so mopey these days. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in months. Yoongi says you’ve been drinking by yourself a lot lately, too. If you’re going to drink tonight, why don’t you do it with us instead of sitting here drinking by yourself? We’re a lot more fun than you are right now. I guarantee it.”

It’s true, it has been a long time since he’s gone out, or even spent any time with his friends. He used to like going out on the weekends, drinking for fun, not to forget. He's not sure he remembers how to do that anymore. “I don't know," he says, looking down. “I probably won't be much fun. You'd be better off going without me.”

"All the more reason you should come," Jin says. “You're just out of practice, that's all. You won't be any fun if you don't at least try." He drops a hand on his shoulder. "So what do you say?"

Hoseok ponders this for a moment. Is it too soon? Are his friends right? Does he deserve to have fun? Should he just do as Yoongi says and get on with his life?

"Yeah," he says finally. "Why not? I'II come.”

The club is louder than he remembers: almost too loud. He finds himself wishing partly that he'd stayed home where it's quiet, the drinks are already paid for, and he can hear himself think. Although, the other part of him thinks that maybe it's a good thing he can't hear himself think, and he wonders why he didn't try this sooner. Maybe he would have forgotten you before now if he had. Taehyung has already paired himself off with a woman who looks like she belongs on a runway, and the ever-charming Jin is surrounded by a clump of girls – and guys – in another corner of the dancefloor. Jungkook has disappeared too, although to where he’s not sure. So much for doing something together. He sighs and keeps his spot by the bar.

Someone approaches, a girl in a tight black dress and stiletto heels, her face framed in S-curls. “Hi there,” she says “You look lonely.” She smiles invitingly. “I can keep you company, if you like.” She’s pretty, like a member of one of those idol girl groups. She looks nothing like you - her eyes don’t have that same sadness that always seemed to be behind yours, and her smile seems genuine, whereas yours always seemed a little feigned. Her dress is far shorter than you ever would have dared to wear yours, just barely covering the tops of her thighs.

He hesitates for a moment, before saying, “Sure.”

She takes the seat next to him. “My name’s Jihyo,” she says. “Yours?”

He downs the last of his drink. “Hoseok.”

Jihyo leans in, and he can’t help but glance down at her chest, her arm pressing her breasts upwards. She’s hitting on him; that’s obvious enough. “You’re cute, oppa. But why do you look so sad?”

The question catches him off-guard. “What?”

“Let me guess,” she says. “You just got out of a relationship, didn’t you?”

Was it ever really a relationship? Or was it just an arrangement? “Something like that,” he says finally.

“Me too,” she says. “About a week ago.”

“I never would have guessed,” he says, and he wouldn’t have, not with the way she’s acting.

“I’m a good actress.” Jihyo grins. “Besides, he was all wrong for me. I’m over it - mostly.” She looks him directly in the eye. “What about you, oppa? Are you over her?”

She’s bold. He’ll give her that. “No,” he says. “Not in the slightest.”

“Do you want some help with that?” Jihyo smiles mysteriously. “People say I’m very… therapeutic.”

He knows exactly what she’s asking. “Your place or mine?” he says automatically, before he knows what he’s doing.

“Yours is fine,” she says. “I have roommates. You live alone, right?”

He doesn’t even want to know how she figured that out.

Jihyo is gone by the time he wakes up the next morning, leaving not even a single trace of herself behind, other than a scrap of paper she’s left with an almost indecipherable scribbled phone number. He realizes, as the sunlight is creeping into his room, that this is the first morning he hasn’t automatically thought of you the moment he woke up. The first morning where the light of day isn’t as painful as it was the day before. He has to hold himself back from immediately entering her number into his phone to tell her good morning, to ask her if she got home all right, that he would have given her cab fare if she’d asked. In all likelihood he’ll probably never see Jihyo again. So none of that really matters now, does it?

Jin: Yah! Where did you run off to last night without telling us? You’re as bad as Jungkookie now! Hoseok: Me? What about you? You deserted me first. Whatever. I had fun at least. Let’s do something again the next time you’re free. Jin: Yeah! Let’s do it!

He tries it again the next night, bringing home another girl, with another short dress and a different name. This one wants to hang around and talk in the morning, instead of vanishing silently while he’s asleep like Jihyo. He wishes she wouldn’t, that she’d quietly get her things and be on her way out. He’s relieved when she’s finally gone. She talks too much, which is good in bed but nowhere else.

It gets easier, eventually. Every morning, he notices, becomes a little less painful. He’s finally figured it out, he thinks. The answer to the question of what to do to forget you. A different woman for every night you’re gone, from here on out, until the day comes where it doesn’t hurt so much to face the truth, that you’re gone and never coming back. Where he doesn’t automatically wonder where you are or what you’re doing, or whether you still think about him. He stops writing you letters eventually too, tucking the sealed envelopes into a shoebox, along with the tiny velvet box he never found it in himself to get rid of, and all the other little things that remind him of you. The shoebox makes its way onto the top shelf of his closet, where it won’t be thought of again for a long time. The next time his mother comes into the city he sends her back home with empty dishes, having finished off every leftover. He finds himself smiling again, now that you’re not constantly on his mind anymore. He feels lighter. Like he could be happy again without you.

It’s true, dwelling on the past will only hold you back. The only way out is forward. Yoongi was right about that, at least. But in the end, it was you who taught him the most valuable lessons: to keep things short and sweet, to stay detached, to keep your heart closely guarded. He knows this now. Everything that ever reminded him of you is gone, but the scars on his heart will always be there, a silent reminder of a mistake he’ll never make again. Falling for someone, allowing them to hold your heart in their hands, even for only a brief moment - only ever ends in heartbreak. Hearts are fragile, slippery things, and they’ll always end up sliding out of your hands, fracturing into a million little pieces, too small and too delicate to be put back together.

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im-sleepdeprived · 2 years

Text

please don’t say you love me

wc: 1,625

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: soooo i finally made a masterlist but i can’t decide if i should pin it or just link it in my bio😭 also i actually really like this fic which is saying a lot bc i have extremely high standards for my writing (inspired by gabrielle aplin’s song “please don’t say you love me” !!!)

warnings: mentions of breakup, 50% angst, 50% fluff (idk bro roll with it)

peter was the epitome of a gentlemen. he always made sure you were comfortable with whatever he was planning, from dates, to staying up late on rooftops (he always had to ask if you were tired yet). and you knew he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. but isn't that what you thought before? no one could ever really tell, could they?

"well i think the prequel is the best," peter stated matter of factly.

"LIAR," you gasped, "oh my god peter, and here i was thinking you actually had taste." you rolled your eyes and he faked a hurt expression, hand flying to his chest.

"hey y/n, ouch. don't forget, even i have feelings."

"whatever."

you giggled as peter threw one of the couch pillows at you. you loved hanging out with him like this, no pressure, just each of you goofing off.

"i'm just saying, i don't know if i can date someone who chooses the absolute WORST star wars movie as their favorite!" you threw your hands up in defense but peter seemed interested in something else.

"wait so are we dating?" he asked curiously.

oh. my. god. you did not just say that. yes you did and he heard it. you really couldn't breathe in that moment. the embarrassment you felt was so overwhelming. sure you and peter had been out with each other a couple times but neither of you ever put a label on it. and the fact that you were the first one to do it shocked not only you, but peter too. you both knew how weary you were about relationships ever since him. he had broken your heart. left you like you were nothing but a rusty penny in the rain. and after almost two years together, no less.

peter had been sure to tread lightly around this 'thing' you two had going on. he wanted it, so bad. but he wasn't about to scare you off right when you started to open up again. he remembered you after the break up and it hurt his heart when he thought of it. red eyes, blotchy cheeks, you even lost weight which made him worry about you even more. you stopped taking care of yourself completely. only thinking of two things, 'how' and 'why'. how could he leave so easily? why did he do it? did you do something wrong? was it your fault? what could you have changed?

it hurt him to see you doubting yourself so much. you had shut everyone out, even your parents were worried, reaching out to peter to please come check up on you. and after about a week of him with you non-stop, you actually talked a little more than your usual mumbling s of 'yes' or 'no'. and with even longer,you began to smile again, real smiles.

he knew you were taking it easy now when it came to dating which is what held him back. there were moments where he could've sworn he felt so much adoration for you that he wanted to drop down and propose to you right then and there. but even he knew that was just straight up crazy.

"i- uh, i mean, um i don't know. if you don't wanna label it-it's totally fine peter, i understand." you stuttered but he was grinning ear to ear.

he leaned in a little, "i mean, i'd love to officially call you my girlfriend even if you do bully my movie taste a little."

you threw your head back laughing and when you looked back at him, you saw nothing but pure love on his expression. it was a little too familiar but you pushed those thoughts away. you had to move on and peter was the perfect person to do that with. he would never rush you or push you over the edge. he'd hold your hand during everything and you knew you'd do the same for him, should he ever need it.

you, too, leaned forward, your noses almost touching, "well, you gotta admit, i kinda have the right after what you just said about the prequel."

he scoffed, despite his growing smile, "there you go again, y/n/n, always picking on me!" you grinned at his nickname for you, it never failed to give you butterflies.

"well i can't help it my boyfriend is so adorable when he gets ticked off."

peter leaned in, closing the gap between you and it felt so right. so right, you could almost feel the cracks in your heart mending themselves. almost.

you were over at the parkers' today. it had been a little over a month since you two made it official and things were still going smoothly. you just hoped peter didn't jump anything big on you while you were least expecting it.

you and peter had decided to have a study session. which, in reality, was just you both cuddling on his bed.

so here you were, laying in his bed, on your back with his head on your chest as your hands went through his syrup-colored curls. you always admired his hair, it was so soft whenever he left it without product (which you always begged him to do, and some days, he would conveniently forget to gel it, loving how happy you got and how you always played with it).

"you know," he mumbled, voice full of sleep. you were glad he couldn't see you blush, how did he always sound so hot? "i'm gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that," he finished.

"well than get up loser," you laughed and he shifted his head up just to pout at you. you tapped his bottom lip while it was jutted out causing him to scrunch up his nose. which just made you laugh more.

suddenly his face lit up and and he sat up from your embrace. now it was your turn to pout. he didn't seem to notice though.

"hey i have an idea!" and by how excited he looked, you could tell he really liked this idea he had. which worried you slightly because, as amazing as he is, peter doesn’t alway have the best ideas.

you raised an eyebrow while he reached over you to his nightstand to grab his phone. he shuffled through it while you just waited, curious to see what had woken him up so abruptly.

soon, you heard a familiar tune playing out his speaker. 'lover' by taylor swift, one of your favorite songs, you had told him that in one of your late-night-rooftop-talks and it meant a lot to you that he remembered.

peter quickly stood up in front of you and held his hand out to you, "may i have this dance?" he asked with a slight blush and a sheepish grin playing on his lips.

you smiled softly, "of course you may."

you put your hand in his while he gently pulled you up to his chest and lowered his hands to your waist while you brought your hands up behind his neck.

"remember the first time we danced together like this?" peter asked quietly.

you nodded, a smile tugging at you lips at the memory.

junior year homecoming. your boyfriend was out of town that weekend but ned, peter, and m.j. had convinced you to still go to the dance. you had a lot of fun, raiding the buffet table with mj and betty and taking photos in the rented photo booth with the gang. but when a slow song started playing, you sat on the bleachers, a little down you had no one to dance with. that was, until peter came up to ask you to dance with him. he had stepped on your toes a little but you didn't mind. you laughed with him while he whispered funny things he noticed into your ear. flash casually trying to rest his hand on his dates butt or abe from decathlon buttoning his jacket up to cover some spilled punch.

you had a great time that night, he even walked you home. and you supposed you always had some sort of infatuation with peter, even before you got together.

and you were happy you two finally did it, it was about time. but you still wanted to take it slow. you didn't want to force anything to happen, you didn't want to rush it. that had happened to you once before and you had both seen how that turned out. you weren't fond of the idea of going through all that again. after all, under pressure even the most precious things can break.

the songs came to an end but you and peter kept swaying, your head on his chest as you listened to the beat of his heart. this was enough for you. you were content and whole.

"y/n," peter said in his beautifully soft voice.

you hummed in response, still a little dazed. but when you looked up to meet his eyes, they were overflowing with emotion.

come on, don't do it. peter, don't ruin what we have going on so perfectly. just. leave. it.

"i love you."

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willowser · 2 years

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willow! happy sunday! ahh so i spent my morning curled up in bed reading pt1 & 2 of ‘southern charm’! and oh my goodness. cowboy bakugou…we all needed this in our life.

i have kind of come off a binge of the show ‘yellowstone’ (cowboy show lol)— which funny enough, i was telling my friend as i binged id never thought cowboys were hotter till that show..but now; i think it has been topped with ‘southern charm’ 😆!

i think the entire setting suits bakugou’s personality so well! in pt1 i really feel like reader was living out a fantasy we all have been guilty of — like hot guy in a bar eyeing you up. and also i think the breakup is a one sided love, sadly loads of us know. so just felt so easy to slip into reader’s mindset (at least for me!). side note: chisaki for the role of germaphobe-cold-ex(?)-bf is so perfect. he isn’t someone i see featured in a lot of fics and so it was a lovely surprise to me and it suits the story so well!

okay so back to thirsting over bakugou — i loved how the entire night he was making sure reader was ‘good’ and re-assuring and calming…and just kept helping reader get out of their own head! and then when he loses his composure for a second finally when he goes to get the condom…i was so into this moment lol. seeing his cool exterior break for a second ahhhh!

so then pt2! ahh i just felt that ‘snap’ happen as he gives reader the “well…i got things to do…” bit, and i know at least a few times in my life i have so badly wanted to let it all out like that. to just stomp away with all that rage, and have the confidence to do it. but its just quick explosion of feelings, because once all that anger is burned through, and the adrenaline gone…the inevitable break down that hits. so for reader to make it all the way to their sister’s house and finally crumble under the weight of all the emotions…it was so incredibly well written & we could feel it.

ah so last note — as i feel like i could ramble on forever whenever i stop by someone’s inbox: i love kirishima and yume’s family, and how i dont think the reader is “jealous” of yume for having this life, but def has a tug of longing while flipping thru all those photos? maybe something like that.. esp coming off the breakup…i am so excited to see where the story will continue but absolutely love all the build up so far! will be lovely to see how everything comes together! i know you had a stressful time getting part 2 out but it was so worth it and all your hard work really shows. thank you for sharing it with us!

so wait — last last note: the snippets of what i am assuming are reader’s story they are working on (?), add another layer to the story as well! very interested in seeing how reader’s experiences are going to shape their own writing…(if i totally got this wrong pls ignore this 😶‍🌫️)

ok done rambling on — pls have a lovely lovely rest of your weekend! ♥️

rin 🥺 dear 🥺 i have been — saving this in my inbox to look back on, because it is so sweet and close to my heart and has been such a blessing to receive ! thank you so much for not only taking the time to read, but for sending this in !!

i'm actually so happy that you mentioned kiri's family ! i think you are the first to do so ! i am vicariously living through them. yume is me. bakugou who. i don't care about him, i just want cowboy kirishima and our lovely two children LOL but i am really glad that how reader-chan feels is coming across correctly, because you are absolutely right; it's not that she's really jealous of her sister, but she just wants to know what that feels like, too, that's all. and it's hard to watch someone get that over and over again, and for you not to receive a crumb ! so i'm really glad there isn't any hostility being read into the text there.

and yes ! the snippets of frances and the stranger in between are meant to be the book reader is working on, and i'm glad that it's clear those two interactions are being a little shaped by what's going on in reader's own life. i hope you enjoy what is to come between those two firecrackers !

again, thank you so much for leaving me such a wonderful message ! it really was hell getting this thing up LOL but to hear your appreciation and receive your praise makes it all worth it, in the end 🌸✨💐🌙

#sorry i am so late on replyin #i just wanted it to myself for a little while ☺️#✿ ask willow

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xshazxx · 1 year

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Interesting. Because I only saw TK hate posts after 2.12 with no one supporting it to the point I had to get off this app, because as someone who has anger issues and bipolar disorder I’ve been there and done that and regretted it.

In regards to 4.01, look I’m not blaming Carlos. He isn’t real. The problem is how absolutely careless the writers are. They gave two sh!ts about Carlos and his backstory. They didn’t care how many plot holes and now inconsistencies this twist has made throughout the show. They didn’t care about the uproar it would cause and how it would divide dedicated fans of this show, of this couple, and of this character. When the fans are literally the reasons these f*ckers are even employed and GET to write about this show. And I think the main reason we are seeing such a divide on twitter vs. tumblr is because there are way more ao3 and fic writers here on tumblr, and fic writers care about the characters. About their entire being and make sure things make sense because they truly are passionate about them. And that’s the main difference with the writers of the show and specifically Tim, they don’t give a f*ck. And I think that is now what pisses me off the most. How these people who are payed to care for these characters don’t and did this storyline without thinking about what it could do. And yes, it’s a procedural show and it doesn’t have to always make sense, especially how terrible LS timeline is. But man, the writers really created the biggest and stupidest wrench they could think of for this just for it to never be mentioned again and I really wish people would stop attacking each other over it. Now had they done this storyline along with the breakup THAT would have made perfect sense had they done this last season before the engagement it would have been better. Doing this weeks before the wedding was literally just for drama. I would have loved something else, estranged sisters, Enzo visiting and having this secret family brawl (like Hatfield and McCoys) with Gabriel (yes that sounds ridiculous but cmon would have been a fun twist). This is a long post. I apologize.

I have to disagree; I don't think fic writers knows the characters better; tbh they could love the characters more but in terms of knowing them better I have say big no one that

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datheetjoella · 3 years

Text

Fantober 2020, Day 27: Breakup

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 27/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,778 Tags: Canonverse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Movie Night, Teasing, The Life of a Rat Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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Heavy rainfall pattered against the building and washed over David, whose head was concealed by his fedora. This was it. This was the climax and Makoto hugged the pillow on his lap to his chest.

"That fateful day, a rat got lost in the middle of an experiment."

"It's okay," Veronica said from the bottom of the stairs, clutching her pet cat, Snowball, against her chest. "No matter who you've changed into, it won't change the moments we shared or my love for you!"

Happy memories of David and Veronica flashed across the screen as she said her piece and Makoto held his breath.

"Thank you, Veronica, but…" David whipped his head up and the wind blew his hat away. Lightning struck behind David and Veronica gasped loudly, eyebrows raised in terror. The handsome face she had fallen in love with was gone, replaced by a rat's head. Tears shimmered in David's eyes as he said, "Since you love cats, I can't live with you!"

"David! Please, no!"

"Please forgive me!"

With that, David ran off. Veronica collapsed on the stairs, weeping loudly in Snowball's white fur.

A melancholic melody began to play as the credits rolled down the screen. Makoto couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"This can't be it," he mumbled under his breath, leaning forward to fetch the remote off the coffee table. He fast-forwarded through the credits to check if there was a final scene at the end, but there wasn't. This was all there was to the movie. "I can't believe this, this can't be the end! There has to be a sequel, The Life of a Rat 3?"

"I don't know," Haruka said, absentmindedly munching on some of the leftover popcorn. "Ask Rin. He's been a fan of this franchise since day one."

Earlier that day, they were video chatting with Rin and talked about the remarkable things that happened since they last caught up with each other. When Rin asked them if they had any plans for the night, they told him they were probably going to relax and watch a movie, but they didn't have anything specific in mind. Rin recommended this duology; he'd seen both films in the cinema when they were first released a few years back and they made a lasting impression on him. By then, they'd known Rin long enough to decipher that meant he cried at least once while watching them.

Neither of them had heard of this franchise beyond an off mention here and there and while the title was a bit odd, they decided to give it a go. They watched both movies back to back and the bittersweet ending didn't exactly move Makoto to tears. Rather, he was left frustrated.

"This can't be the end of David and Veronica. They can't break up just because David has a rat head now," Makoto said, "I know Veronica loves cats and I understand that, but that doesn't mean they can't look for a solution to bring David back to who he was. Or in the very least, they could've found a way to make it work despite David being a rat!"

"Makoto, it's a movie," Haruka, who was a lot less invested in the plot, said. "Not every story has a happy ending."

"But David and Veronica love each other so much! Isn't true love supposed to conquer all?" Makoto said, adjusting his position on the couch to face Haruka. "Would you break up with me if I got fused with a rat by accident?"

"Definitely."

"Huh?" Makoto's jaw plummeted to the ground faster than Veronica fell to her knees. "What, why?"

"You know I'm only with you for your looks, right?" Haruka said, expression blank as he continued to stuff popcorn into his mouth. "If you lose that, then I don't know what's left for me to love."

Makoto stared at him in incredulity, but then the corners of Haruka's lips twitched up and a hint of a smile broke through his aloof facade. "Haru!" he complained as he smacked Haruka's legs with his pillow. "That's not funny."

Haruka pulled in his legs, folding them beneath himself and he snorted. "No, Makoto, if you somehow got amalgamated with a rat in some freaky experiment, then I wouldn't break up with you. But if you get on my nerves, I might consider setting up mouse traps around the apartment."

"Stop," Makoto said, grabbing the bowl from Haruka's arms. "If you're going to keep teasing me, then you don't deserve any more popcorn."

"I made that popcorn myself, I think I'm entitled to it."

"Try taking it back from me then." Makoto shot him a challenging look.

One glance was enough to determine it would be a losing battle for Haruka, so he tapped out before he started. "You can have it. I've had enough popcorn anyway."

It was a measly victory, but a victory nonetheless. Makoto rewarded himself by popping a piece into his mouth, the buttery yet slightly salty flavour spreading over his tongue.

"What about me?"

Haruka's voice made Makoto look up from his snack of triumph. "What about you?"

"Would you still be with me if I got turned into a rat?" Haruka asked, "And before you say yes, you have to keep in mind that that would mean you can never have a cat. I cannot, under any circumstance, be turned back human."

"I would train the cat not to attack you," Makoto said, but Haruka shook his head.

"No. There is no way for a cat and me to coexist in the same house, and you can't have a separate room or shed or anything to facilitate a cat either."

Makoto rubbed at his chin to feign contemplation, wanting to tease Haruka back a little, but then he said, "Yes, I would still be with you."

"What if you couldn't even pet your friends' cats or stray cats as long as you're with me, because my rat-scent would cling to you constantly?"

Makoto grimaced at that detail. "That sounds gross."

"It would be gross," Haruka said, "So what would it be? No more cat cafés, no more burying your face in soft fur, no more pink paws or rough tongues as long as you're together with me?"

"I'd still pick you," Makoto said decisively because there was not a grain of doubt in his mind about this, "I can always watch cat videos online."

"What if that wouldn't be allowed either?"

A chuckle left Makoto's lips. "You just want me to say I'd give anything up for you, don't you? But yes, even if that wouldn't be allowed, I would still choose you. I'd choose you over anything because I apparently love you more than Veronica loves David."

Judging by the satisfied grin that briefly darted across Haruka's face, that was indeed the answer he was fishing for. "Aren't you glad it's just a movie?" he said as he leaned back against the couch, "Next time, tell Rin to recommend us better movies."

"Well, I didn't think the movies were bad, but I wish the romantic subplot ended differently," Makoto said, "I want to see a romance that's strong and can withstand anything, no matter what. A relationship like ours."

"There aren't any movies like that," Haruka said and he sounded vehement about that fact, like he'd already watched every film that was ever created and none of them held up. "And I can't imagine one will be made soon."

"Why not?"

"Because romances in movies are fictional while our connection, our feelings for each other are real."

That reply made Makoto's mouth fall open once again, his heart melting inside his chest. Haruka stated it like it was the obvious truth, which it was, but Makoto hadn't expected him to say it. Despite their unswerving bond, there were still times when Haruka could catch him off guard, with kind words or equally thoughtful gestures.

"I guess you're right," Makoto said, a soft smile stretching his cheeks. "Maybe we should make our own movie then."

"And star in it ourselves?" Haruka said with a huff of amusement, "This movie is going to be as much of a disaster as the swim club recruitment video we shot back in high school."

"It won't be, because unlike with that video, we're actually fit to play these roles," Makoto said, "I was born to play the part of the compatible love interest. Want me to prove?"

"Show me what you've got."

Makoto put the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table, then he grabbed Haruka's hands. His gaze locked onto Haruka's as he vowed, "I don't care what you've turned into, when I said I wanted to be with you forever, I meant it with all my heart. As long as you're Haru, that's all that matters to me because I love you more than anything in the entire world."

A bright blush lit up Haruka's face and he whipped his head around, breaking the spell Makoto cast over them. Although every word he spoke was true, Haruka's reaction made him grin. It was good he wasn't the only one who could be surprised by a sincere confession.

"How was that? You can't possibly break up with someone like that, can you?"

"I wasn't planning to," Haruka said before shoving the last handful of popcorn into his mouth to distract himself.

"I thought you had enough popcorn?"

"I changed my mind."

Makoto chuckled. "As long as you don't change your mind about our relationship, that's fine by me."

"I would never," Haruka mumbled while he chewed, "You're perfectly cut out for your role in this movie."

Even though he already knew that, the reassurance was very much appreciated. "So are you." Once Haruka's mouth was empty, he leaned in and stole a kiss from his lips. Salty kisses rarely tasted this sweet. "I would love for this movie to continue and reach its climax, but it's getting pretty late. Shall we postpone it till tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Haruka said, stifling a yawn at the mention of the time. "You can be a good love interest and carry me to the bathroom."

"If that's what it takes to stay by your side, then gladly." Makoto leapt to his feet and scooped Haruka up in his arms. "You can go brush your teeth first, I'll clean up here."

"Thanks," Haruka said as he pressed another kiss to Makoto's lips.

There might not have been any cameras rolling and they weren't following a script, but as far as love stories went, Makoto was certain that theirs exceeded every other tale that had ever been told.

#i'm sorry i'm stupid #makoharu #makoharu fic #my fic #fantober2020 #colourful days with you #let me preface this by saying that no this is not a breakup fic #sorry if that's what you were expecting but look at me #do i look like someone who could write a breakup fic?? absolutely not #i can't even think about it let alone write it #nevertheless i tried my best to stick to the prompt a little #and this is the closest thing i've ever written to crack lmao #but i hope you'll like it anyway #ok that's enough from me thanks for reading i love you

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becca-e-barnes · 3 years

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#2 for dads best friend imagine 😉

Her family are going on vacation and they invite Bucky along.

There are two hotel rooms, one for her parents and one for her and Bucky because her dad trusts him of course, so what happens when they get to the room and realize there’s only one bed and a lot of tension between them?

The Vacation

This is the most slow burn I have ever written 🥵 I swear I’ve been at this for days but I really love how it turned out!! Thank you all for the love on #1 I’m so glad to see you all enjoying this series as much as I’m enjoying writing it!! 💗

This is a standalone fic but #1 is here!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: Your father hasn’t noticed the tension that’s been building between you and his best friend Bucky. How much self control do you have when you’re sharing a bed on vacation?

Warnings: Smut, riding, grinding, protected sex, age gap (Bucky is in his 40’s, reader is in her 20’s), cream pie, sexual tension, needy Bucky, mutual masterbation, dad’s best friend Bucky, pet names, praise kink, lil bit of degradation, breakup mention, unsafe sun exposure (use sunscreen besties! Protecc that skin)

Minors, do not interact

Your poor, poor father. How could one man be so trusting and have his trust so misplaced?

But then again, he had no reason to doubt either of you. Bucky Barnes was your dad’s lifelong best friend, someone he had known even longer than he had known your mother.

And you were his daughter. His sweet, chaste, innocent little girl who couldn’t possibly harbour any feelings for Bucky, a man almost twice your age.

The painful truth boiled down to the fact that your father hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed anything. Not the glances you and Bucky shared over the dinner table when he came over, nor the way you watched Bucky while he worked out, hot and sweaty, muscle bulging under taut, tanned skin.

You could’ve called your infatuation a harmless crush, but your father also hadn’t noticed how Bucky watched you back. You’d seen him taking in the sight of you in your little shorts, lounging in your garden without a care in the world, baking under the hot sun. You looked like a picture straight out of a sexy magazine or a naughty calendar he would’ve hung up in his college dorm room but you weren’t. You were a living, breathing, beautiful young woman, stretched out in front of him, looking so breathtaking it made him twitch in his jeans.

So he watched. Who could blame him? You watched too. It wasn’t creepy or unwanted, this was just the dance the two of you had become used to. Dangling yourself the other in the hopes that one of you would eventually snap. Give in to temptation. You were in your 20s now, nothing made you strictly off limits, except the fact you absolutely shouldn’t want each other.

You weren’t even all that excited for the vacation until you had heard Bucky would be coming, truth be told.

In all honesty, hearing Bucky was going was all that inspired you to agree in the first place.

How bad could it be? A week with your parents and Bucky in some All Inclusive resort somewhere in the sun.

You knew Bucky’s eyes would be on you, his gaze would be hungry, drinking you in like he owned you, fists clenched, holding himself back from taking what he really wanted. What you really wanted to give to him. Oh, it would be interesting by the end of the week. That is, if you both lasted that long.

“Hope you packed your swimsuit, honey.” Bucky teased quietly, his voice low and sultry, as the four of you made your way past the pool in the blistering, boarder line oppressive heat to the hotel reception area. He had been kind enough to carry your bag, as well as his own, eyes sparkling with mischief in the summer sun while families splashed happily in the water.

“Oh shit! I think I forgot it!” You gasped dramatically, clearly messing with him.

“Oh yeah? That would be a shame.” Did that confident, sexy drawl count as flirting? Or was it just more friendly banter? More of the same. Little notions planted in your head, leading to thoughts you couldn’t shake.

“If you wanna see me naked, you only gotta ask.” Your words were hardly more than a whisper. Bucky didn’t retort so you assumed he’d missed it.

The reception area was quiet, cooler than outside given that they had the air conditioning cranked up, your father chatting at the desk while your mother and Bucky sat beside you in the lobby.

“Okay so the hotel is running behind and checkin isn’t for another few hours. Seems they’re really busy this week but that’s okay! We can get changed and hit the pool, that nice lady at reception offered to keep our bags safe.” Your dad was in full blown holiday mode. Nothing could bother him apparently, pressing a kiss to your mom’s forehead, his smile never faltering. Despite how tired you were from the journey, the thought of heading down to the pool to sun yourself really did sound quite appealing, especially with your family in such great spirits.

So that was it decided, you got your favourite tiny little bikini fished out from your bag, along with a towel and some UV protect oil, running off to the bathroom to change.

The four of you hit the pool together, managing to find two free sun loungers beside each other.

Bucky felt like he was holding his breath in the crisp heat, hardly even daring to breathe. Seeing you with so little on while feeling so damn exposed in only his swim trunks was getting to him. Badly. Your body was a work of art in his eyes, no matter whether you saw it or not.

God he longed to be buried between your thighs, kissing at the soft skin, working you up until he was able to slip a finger into what would undoubtedly be the sweetest pussy he had ever tasted but he couldn’t afford to let himself dwell on that thought for too long, wondering instead if this vacation had actually been a huge mistake on his part.

You were finding yourself in the same, rapidly sinking boat, not even knowing where to look now that Bucky was wearing so little, feeling like heat was just radiating off his body. He was in fantastic shape, there wasn’t a single part of his body where the muscles were less defined than the rest. A real testament to his resolve, his patience and his dedication in the gym.

But then your parents bid their goodbyes, offering to be the first to dip in the pool and shit, you were alone together.

“Well honey, jus’ you and I now.” He smiled, hands tucked under his head, leaning back at a full stretch on the creaking plastic chair beneath him.

“Looks like it.” You laughed quietly, taking a seat beside him. Shifting your hair you uncapped the bottle of UV protecting oil.

Bucky’s heart leapt in panic. Shit. You weren’t actually going to oil yourself up right in front of him? But yes, you damn well were, applying some first to your arms, then down your legs, over your tummy and chest and he’d be damned if he wasn’t already half hard, stealing glances at you behind his sunglasses. Perky tits, oiled up and delicious, whole body slick and begging to be worshipped but then you started on your own ass.

Bucky told himself it wasn’t obvious. That you couldn’t possibly have heard the groan that slipped from him while you massaged oil onto your own ass cheeks, moving the skimpy little bikini up to ensure you covered as much of your skin as possible, right in front of his face.

“You wanna do me a favour.” You asked, turning around and biting your bottom lip. You could feel his eyes on you, even though he thought you couldn’t possibly have noticed behind the tinted glasses.

“Sure honey, what’d’ya need?”

“Do my back for me, would you?” Alarm bells rang in his head but clearly, no one had told his dick this was a bad idea. He could feel himself hardening just at the thought. He’d never actually touched you like that before but he sure wasn’t letting an opportunity like that pass him by.

Before he could even respond, you had plonked yourself down on his sun lounger, his legs shifted out of the way so you could nestle between them and it was now or never. He shuffled up to bracket your legs in his, strong, thick thighs lined up beside yours, your back practically pressed to his chest.

The little bottle of oil was passed back into his hand.

‘Please God, no’ seemed to be the only coherent thought Bucky could manage when you reached behind you, tugging on the little string of the bow holding your bikini together until it fucking unravelled. The cups were still held against your skin by your hands but that added security of the straps was now gone.

“Just making sure you don’t miss anywhere.” You knew exactly what you had done and although Bucky couldn’t see you, your bottom lip was still being nibbled on by your teeth.

You thought you had pushed him too far, thought that maybe this last request was just a little too much. Maybe he wasn’t actually into you like you were into him. What if this had all been some terrible misjudgement and Bucky was just being friendly these past few months.

But then the cap popped once more and you breathed a sigh of relief, Bucky shuffling behind you, rubbing the oil between his hands to warm it up.

And then his huge hands landed on your skin, beginning to spread the slick, slippy substance over the expanse of your back. A tiny moan escaped you at just how good his hands felt, sliding first over your shoulders and the back of your neck, oil dripping down over your spine and landing on your sweet little ass.

“Couldn’t’a brought your boyfriend? He should be doin’ this shit for you.” Bucky was doing his best to sound agitated, he really really tried but nothing could’ve hid his growing arousal, no matter how far back he tried to shuffle.

“Don’t have a boyfriend Bucky. Thought dad told you? We broke up a while ago.” Bucky hated how his first thought was overwhelming excitement followed quickly by a sinking feeling, recognising how badly he wanted this. How much he needed to get this out of his system. But how do you have a one night stand with your best friend’s daughter? Especially if you felt the way he imagined you would.

“Oh God angel, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” How had he managed to even convince himself that he was being sincere but deep down he’d been hoping you two wouldn’t last. He wasn’t right for you. Anyone could see that.

“Don’t worry Buck, I’m over it.” You laughed happily, chewing on your lip when Bucky’s hands moved lower down your back. Bucky chuckled in response, hot breath hitting the back of your neck, sending a tingle down your spine.

“Well I’m glad to hear that.” He grinned. Did that count as flirting? And how often were you going to ask yourself if Bucky was flirting over the course of the vacation.

“Gotta say, I’ve never oiled a beautiful woman up like this before. Not with innocent intentions anyway.” Shit, did he really just say that?

“And why do you only have innocent intentions?” Shit, did you really just say that? Somehow this was all so much easier when you didn’t have to look him in the eye and say it. He hands never ceased, working oil into your skin like there was nothing he would rather be doing.

“Oh, it wouldn’t be right to have any other intentions angel. You’re too young for me, far too sweet. And your dad would probably kill me in my sleep.” He breathed out a little laugh, knowing your dad definitely would kill him.

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it though.” His voice was so quiet you almost missed it. Want shot through your body, making you tingle pleasantly in the burning sun, a throb settling between your legs.

“You don’t mean th-“ you began, more flustered than ever before you were interrupted by your parents making their way back from the pool towards you, dripping wet and laughing heartily together.

“Meant every word baby.” Bucky whispered sweetly, taking the straps of your bikini and tying it back up quickly before your parents reached you, shuffling onto the free sun lounger.

Bucky’s words sunk in while you lounged in the hot sun, your body not taking the time to unwind and relax. How could you with Bucky offering you the one thing you had dreamt of most since shortly after you turned 18? And here he was, lying two feet away, wearing practically nothing.

It didn’t take long for the receptionist to fetch you, letting you know the rooms were ready so the four of you gathered up quickly, following after her.

“These two are yours.” She smiled happily, handing over the room keys to your father who opened the first door finding a double bed inside. The second room had the same. Shit.

“I’m so sorry, we needed one of the rooms with two single beds.” Your father had turned to talk to the receptionist but she was already gone.

“It’s okay I guess, I’ll room with Bucky.” Your dad offered.

“I’m not splitting you and your wife up on vacation for God’s sake. I’ll take the bath. Won’t make a difference to me.” Bucky was so damn nonchalant, setting his bag through the door before there was a chance for any more argument. Shit, this just kept getting better and better.

————

Dinner was lovely, the evening heat keeping you warm in your cute little dress, all four of you laughing and reminiscing happily together over a beautifully cooked meal.

You and Bucky left early, opting for a shower and an early night after a long day of travelling and your parents didn’t even question it. Thank god for that misplaced trust.

“You take the first shower sweetheart, I don’t mind.” Bucky offered happily, leaping onto the bed, lying back at full stretch. You weren’t going to argue, fishing out your pyjamas and a towel before heading into the bathroom, the door locking behind you.

The cold water felt like heaven on your skin, hoping it would wash away all the terribly inappropriate thoughts you were harbouring for the man just outside the door. Thoughts of him joining you, his chest to your back, his hands running over your body, fingernails digging in, desperate for purchase in your soft skin, rutting into you gently. You couldn’t think like that. You shouldn’t. You wouldn’t make it through the week if you did.

Turning the shower off, you stepped out and dried quickly, pulling your little thin cotton pyjamas on before brushing through your hair.

“Your turn Buck.” You smiled quietly, stepping out, chuckling at how he bounced off the bed and into the bathroom past you.

He seemed to take ages, far longer than you did but when he finally emerged, holy shit. He hadn’t dried himself at all, broad, toned chest and shoulders glistening with dripping beads of water, hair messy and abs tight. It did nothing at all to stifle the need growing between your legs. His towel was sitting so low on his narrow hips you thought you might just melt.

“You’re starin’ honey.” Bucky laughed cheekily, rummaging in his bag for some damn underwear. “It’s not like I’m wearing any less than you were earlier. That little bikini didn’t leave much to the imagination.” It was starting already.

“Coulda taken it off for you if you wanted.” You offered, his mouth watering at the thought. “Coulda oiled all of me up. Your hands felt so good.” You shouldn’t have been encouraging this but here you were. The heat had got to you. That was it. Sunstroke maybe? Either way, you shouldn’t have been this forward so soon.

“Careful honey, we’re stuck in this room together for a week. You don’t wanna know how good my hands could make you feel.” The worst part was, you didn’t doubt Bucky could back his confidence up.

“And what if I did?” You asked quietly, his head pulling from his bag to look at you.

“Wouldn’t be right honey. Your parents are next door.” Was that really his only objection?

“Guess you’re right Buck.”

————

The evening was more relaxed after that, Bucky dressed in a thin T-shirt and boxers, busying himself on his phone while you watched some mindless hotel TV.

At around 10, Bucky pulled himself up, taking his pillows with him.

“What are you doing?” You laughed incredulously.

“Jus’ makin’ up the bath angel, ‘s been a long day.” He did sound drained, exhausted between the travelling and the excessive heat.

“Bucky don’t be silly, you’re not breaking your back in the bath. Sleep in the bed. It’ll be fine.” He wasn’t even sure if he could trust himself. Could he really sleep beside you and not give in to the temptation? But his body was sore, achy and in need of somewhere comfortable to sleep so he gave in without argument.

You lay in silence when the lights turned off, side by side, staring at the ceiling.

“So goddamn warm.” Bucky sighed softly after a few moments.

“So warm.” You agreed. “If you wanna sleep naked, I won’t stop you.” You were only teasing but when he pulled his shirt off your heart fluttered.

“I’ll take the rest off if you do. Won’t look, promise. Jus’ cant sleep in this heat.” You could tell his head was turned towards you despite it being dark, eyes probably trained on you.

“Yeah, sounds fair.” You were gasping for it. You couldn’t help how your pussy throbbed just at the thought of being naked in bed beside Bucky.

Wordlessly, you both undressed, skimpy bed clothes discarded.

“Fuck honey, I don’t think the heat was the problem.” Bucky practically groaned after a few minutes of trying to get comfy. “I’m gonna have to go to the bath, ‘m sorry, this is so wrong.” He pulled himself up, making sure the duvet still covered him, hands running over his face in an effort to calm down.

“What’s wrong Buck?” You asked quietly, leaning over to turn on the little bedside light, keeping yourself covered.

“ ‘m fuckin’ hard. Can’t… can’t sleep beside you like this, not when the only thought in my head is burying myself deep in your little pussy.” He sounded boarder-line distraught. The thoughts had been in his head too long.

“Don’t go.” You whispered, noticing that he turned around to look at you. “I’ll take care of it for you, you don’t need to go.”

“Baby, don’t offer me shit like that. No idea how bad I want it.” You could see his eyes flitting over your face in the dim light. Studying you. Searching for any indication you weren’t serious.

“We don’t need to have sex, jus’ lemme take care of it for you.” How could he say no? Leaning back on bed, his head hit the pillow with a soft crinkle of the sheets.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked quietly, pressing a little kiss to your forehead, loving how you hummed your approval. Your hands wandered, meeting the soft, hairy skin of his thighs, drifting upwards until they met Bucky’s length. The tiny groan that left Bucky sent a shiver running through your body, delicious little grunts escaping him as you stroked him from base to tip, flicking your wrist to concentrate on his tip.

“Oh Jesus fuckin’ -ah- don’t know who taught you that angel but I gotta thank ‘em some day.” Bucky’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, a lazy smile plastered on his beautiful face while your tiny hand continued.

“Fuck sugar, you mind if I watch? Can’t miss this.” His cheeks were blazing, eyes burning with lust and how could you say no? After your little nod, Bucky pulled the covers back, exposing his aching cock in your hand.

“Looks good there doesn’t it? Looks even bigger in my tiny hand than it does in yours.” Your teasing had him groaning, trying to drink in every little squeeze and stroke without so much as blinking. He didn’t want to miss a single second.

“Fuck, feels so good. This isn’t fair angel, I’m havin’ all the fun.” His eyes reluctantly tore themselves away from your hand, looking instead into your eyes.

“Then touch me Buck.” Such a simple command almost made him cum on the spot. Your voice was far too innocent, hearing you finally ask for something he had waited so long for.

He couldn’t waste a second, fingers itching to touch you exactly how he had longed to earlier. Oh fuck. Earlier. The thought of your oiled up skin, slick and shiny and so begging to be kissed. The reason this had all started.

It didn’t take him long for his fingers to find the apex of your thighs, your hand never relenting on his cock. A heavy gasp dragged from both of your throats just feeling how wet you were. Pretty thighs coated with evidence of your lust and that’s when Bucky lost it completely.

“Oh baby, you need me that badly already? You even know how wet you are? Fuck, bet I’ve got your tight little cunt throbbin’ don’t I? Thought I was horny but damn, you’re more worked up than I thought. Dumb little girl just loves playin’ with a big cock so much you’re practically creamin’ on my fingers.” You weren’t sure if his words were making your insides twist or if it was the way his fingers found your clit effortlessly, even with your body still covered by the sheets. Tight, rough circles rubbed over your sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping further, sinking into your hole in one fluid motion.

“Ah Buck, Jesus.” Somehow through your own pleasure, you had the capacity to keep stroking him, precum beading nicely on his tip, beginning to run down his swollen head.

“God, you’re so tight, grippin’ my fingers. How the fuck’m I s’pposed to sleep this week knowin’ I’m sleepin’ beside the best pussy I’m not even gonna getta feel.”

“Oh Bucky, please. I’m close. So close.” You couldn’t help rolling closer towards him, one leg hitched over the top of his so you’d be more comfortable.

“Hardly even touched you angel, can’t believe a sweet little thing like you comes apart so easily. Would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so damn hot for me. Makin’ you cum in just a few minutes. Anyone ever done that for you before baby?” His gruff little whisper you painfully sexy, watching your face now instead of your hand on his cock.

“N-no Buck. Haven’t even cum this fast by myself before, fuck, rub my clit again, please.” You were whining, back arching off the bed and trying to fuck yourself down on his fingers all at once.

“Love when a woman isn’t scared to ask for what she wants.” His little chuckle was so sexy but he did as you asked, his fingers slipping from you, despite how your body tried to pull him back in. In less than a second, they were back on your clit, the little flicks of his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves making you mewl and whimper. That knot tightening in your tummy couldn’t take much more, the pressure building, your walls clenching around nothing until oh.

Your body released, spasming and twitching, Bucky’s free hand clapped over your mouth to silence your filthy cries of pleasure.

“Baby you make such pretty fuckin’ noises when you cum but your parents are right next door. Can’t get caught. As much as I want this whole damn resort to know who’s makin’ this pretty pussy gush like that.”

Your orgasm subsided but the fire inside you hadn’t. Bucky removed his hand and almost the second he did you were on him, your lips on his for the first time, hot and electric. His hands grabbed at you the way he had always imagined they would. Eventually they settled on your hips, pulling you on top to straddle him, wet, aching core meeting his throbbing length. Both of you hissed at the contact.

“You still need more baby? That pretty pussy not had enough yet? You know we shouldn’t do this angel. Helpin’ each other out is one thing but I don’t know if we can come back from havin’ sex.” Shit, he was right. How could you possibly look at him again if you had sex now? How would your family dinners ever be the same again? How would you ever find someone that filled you the way you knew he could?

“Okay…. No sex. Just lemme…” You both needed something and this would just have to do. Reaching between your bodies, you pressed his cock flat to his tummy, settling yourself on top of the length, your slick folds parted so he was rubbing against the silkiest part of your core, not letting him inside, just using his girth to get yourself off.

“Oh, oh what the fuck. How does that feel so good.” Bucky was amazed, his body almost tricking itself into thinking he was inside you.

“Ah that’s perfect, right fucking there.” Your whimper came out breathy and blissed out, the head of his cock nudging your clit each time you rocked on him and damn, you hadn’t expected it to feel so breathtaking.

Speeding up, you could feel his cock drag over your hole with each little grind of your hips and shit, everything was perfect until the head started to catch on the rim of your little hole, your body begging for him to fill you. Bucky was lost in the feeling, one hand gripping your hips, the other gripping the sheets, focusing on not blowing his load too soon.

“You feel that Buck? Fuck, you’re so close to bein’ inside me, can feel my pussy trying to pull you in.” Every little catch of his head on the rim of your hole was fresh torture. “Fuck it Buck, I can’t. Need you ‘nside me.” Your whimpers were killing him.

“Ahh, baby we can’t. Please, I won’t be able to handle it.” You weren’t sure how Bucky had been reduced to such a mess but in truth, you weren’t far behind him. “Don’t wanna hurt you, I won’t be able to hold back, fuck, shit, ‘m almost inside you. Baby please.” Bucky didn’t know whether to stop this now or just thrust up into you. One grind of his hips would solve it all, he could be buried to the hilt inside you within a second if he could just let himself give in.

On the next grind, the drag of your rim on his head was just unbearable, the slick tip of his cock slipping in, barely more than an inch, both of you gasping at once.

“Oh yes, fuck baby, yes,” Bucky’s eyes were rolling back in his head, body almost trembling feeling the tight wet clench of your walls around him, taking all of him in one movement.

“Bucky, Bucky, ah please.” You couldn’t even hold it together anymore.

“Baby, you’re made for me, shit, tightest pussy I’ve ever felt.” He groaned so loudly before you lifted yourself up, falling back down quickly in a way that had you both crying out, keening against each other.

Your rhythm was slow and sensual, his cock spearing that sweet spot inside you with every fall of your hips.

“I can’t baby, ‘m not gonna last. You think you could cum for me, please baby.” He was so gone, hardly able to focus, determined to make you cum before he had to pull out. Your nod sent his two fingers back to your clit, rubbing with ease while you kept fucking him, building the uncontrollable need inside you back up again.

“Hurry up baby, ‘m gonna cum.” His little groan nearly finished you then and there but you weren’t just ready yet.

“Bucky please, jus’ cum in me. Needa feel it.” Your little plea shook him to his core, balls emptying into you with a loud cry. The force of Bucky’s release encouraged your own, his fingers not relenting on your abused clit, dragging you over the edge into blinding pleasure with a high cry.

“Oh God baby, shouldn’t’a cum in you. I’m so sorry, holy shit.” Bucky had finally come to his senses, helping you off him and onto the bed, ready to start Googling for a pharmacy to get the morning after pill.

“Bucky relax, I’m protected.” Your laugh calmed him deep in his soul, relief washing over his face when he realised you weren’t actually in trouble.

“Thank god.” He gasped. “Your dad would kill me.”

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diaphragmjellyfish · 3 years

Text

I Have This... Thing

Not My Gif

So as someone with vaginismus, it’s sometimes frustrating to read fan fiction, specifically smut. Y/N always has sex so easily and with very little foreplay, finishing with no issues. And it’s so great for people who can do that, but it’s not the case for all of us. Some of us can’t have any sort of penetration without pain. Some people can’t finish without toys, or hours of work. Some people will never be able to have penetrative sex. There’s all kinds of people, and there’s all kinds of sex. But not near enough fics featuring Y/N’s with these issues. So I’m going to write some, and feel free to request any issue with any character, and if I don’t know that character, we can collaborate to find a character you like that I do know.

Paul Lahote x reader smut.

You had lived in Forks for about 6 months now. You’ve known your new friends here for 5 months. And you’ve been the imprint of Paul Lahote for 3 months. Well, you’ve been his imprint since you guys first locked eyes at La Push when you first hung out with Emily, but he didn’t tell you about the whole werewolf/ imprint thing until 3 months ago. Safe to say it came as a shock. Your friends, the people who had welcomed you so easily, helped you move furniture around, and gave you tours of the new town, were WOLVES. Or engaged to wolves. *cough* Emily *cough*. You had to take a few weeks break from them after they told you. After Sam explained the legends, the lore. After Paul told you that you were basically his soul mate. It’s a lot to take in!

But you quickly realized that you had grown to love the pack. And now that you knew the big secret, things were easier around them. No more lies about where they had all been. No more avoiding talking about their mysterious injuries that only seemed to last for a couple hours. No more awkwardly dancing around why Paul stared at you constantly and wouldn’t let any other guy get within 6 feet of you without having a rage attack and sprinting into the woods. Things were going good.

Well… as good as they could be without sex. Yep. You and Paul had been together for 3 months and you have not had sex. You didn’t give each other head. You didn’t take your clothes off around each other. You didn’t even dry hump. And you knew it was your fault. You could tell that Paul was getting nervous about the fact that you wouldn’t let him touch you like that. He would never ask you about it, because he wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, but you could tell it was on his mind. The little sad smile he would give when you stopped things from going further. The hover of his hands over your ass before landing back on your waist. The way he looked almost guilty after looking at you in a swimsuit or crop top.

See, vaginismus made relationships difficult. You never had a long term relationship before Paul. You were either too scared to tell partners about it, and just dealt with the excruciating pain, which would lead to resentment and breakups, or you would tell them and they would ghost you. Guys don’t normally go for girls who’s opening line is “Hi! I cannot have sex without crying.” You’d been dilating for almost a year now. It was going okay. Some days hurt more than others. A lot of times, Paul would ask you to hang out when you were in the middle of your physical therapy, and you would have to make up some excuse as to why you couldn't. Too tired. Headache. Stomach bug. He was starting to catch on.

One day, you guys were hanging out at your apartment watching a movie. You had been making out, but as soon as it started getting slightly heated, you had pulled away and got up to get a drink refill. Paul, having gotten used to the routine, didn’t question you. While you were in the kitchen pouring some more juice, Paul asked “Hey babe? Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah it’s in the top drawer of my bedside table,” you haphazardly yelled back.

You heard him get up and go into your bedroom, rummaging around a little. Then silence.

“Hey babe?” he said hesitantly. You thought he just couldn’t find the charger, so you began walking towards your room to grab it for him. Once you got to the doorway, you stopped dead in your tracks. Eyes wide. Face bright red. Paul held up the dilator you were currently on, which was about 5 inches long and looked… well let’s be honest. It looked like a dildo. The bottle of lubricant that was also in the drawer didn’t help your case. How the fuck were you supposed to explain yourself? You expected Paul to tease you, make some sex jokes, and maybe try to make out with you again, but he didn’t. He looked absolutely crushed.

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” He asked, sounding on the verge of tears.

“What?! Paul, of course I want to have sex with you!”

“Then why this?” he pressed.

“You don’t even know what that’s for. Let me explain,” you pleaded, afraid he was going to lose that infamous temper. You’d never witnessed it before, but you were scared you were about to.

“I think I have a pretty good guess about what this is for!” He exclaimed, holding it up. “You won’t even let me kiss your neck but you have this that you obviously use when I’m not around. You don’t want to have sex with me. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Paul! That’s not true at all!” You were starting to get irritated at his assumptions. “It’s for physical therapy.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling orgasms now?” He questioned, exasperated.

“I’m not talking about orgasms! If you gave me two seconds to explain, you would know that that does not bring me an ounce of pleasure. I hate having to use it.” You started to tear up at this, all the memories of your struggles surging back up. At this, Paul stopped. He looked super confused, but also worried about you. God forbid you shed a tear, Paul would rip the world apart to make you happy again. “Come sit down,” you said, resigned, as you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. Paul, still holding the dilator in his hand, sat down next to you. The silence seemed to last an eternity, but you knew that the longer you went without explaining, the more hurt Paul would feel.

“I wasn’t lying when I said it was for physical therapy,” you whispered. “I have other ones. All different sizes.” You realized you might not have been helping your case with this.

“I don’t understand. Why do you need them if you don’t use them to get off?” He looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well… I have this thing. It’s like… a condition? And I need them so maybe one day I can have sex without any pain.” He still looked wildly confused, and you knew you were going to have to elaborate. “When I first started having sex, it hurt. A lot. But I always heard that it was supposed to hurt the first time. So I just kind of put up with it. It was bad though. I always tapped out, couldn’t go for more than a couple minutes. It felt like this really intense stinging. Like a rugburn all inside me. And it didn’t stop, even after I started doing it more. It never went away… I ended up googling it, and it’s actually something that a lot of women struggle with. I made a doctor’s appointment and was lucky enough to get diagnosed the first time. Lots of women are told they’re making it up. My doctor gave me these dilators, told me how to use them, and said that with enough time and physical therapy, I could have painless sex one day.” When you finished, you turned to look at him. He was staring intently at the dilator, thinking.

“So, you have to like… stretch yourself? Were you just born too small?” He phrased it delicately, but you knew what he meant.

“Basically, it’s an anxiety disorder with very physical symptoms. My pelvic floor muscles constrict when I try to put anything inside me, which makes it super painful. It’s like an involuntary reflex. Like blinking when something flies near your face. And I have to condition my body to learn that penetration doesn’t hurt, and that it doesn’t have to tighten up like that. The condition is called vaginismus. You can google it yourself if you want.”

“Oh.” A pause. Paul knew you had some anxiety, but he never guessed it could cause something like this. He knew you were embarrassed. He could tell. And the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you couldn’t be open and vulnerable with him. Did you think he would leave you? Or get mad? “Why didn’t you tell me?” Was the question that came out.

“It’s humiliating. I could tell you were getting antsy about us not having sex, and I guess I didn’t have the heart to tell you that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. This physical therapy, it takes a while. I’ve already been doing it for almost a year, and I still have three sizes after this one.” A tear fell. You wiped it away quickly, hoping he Paul wouldn’t notice, but he did. He moved to wrap his arms around you, putting the dilator back on your nightstand. He embraced you, and the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere was more than you could handle. You burst into tears as he pulled you onto his lap and rocked you both, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You guys stayed there until you stopped crying, and then he finally spoke.

“Y/N, I don’t ever want you to feel like there’s something you can’t tell me. I love you. And yeah, I would love to have sex with you one day, but I’m with you because of who you are. I don’t care if we never do it. You are my person, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you the happiest you can be. This? This thing you think is such a problem? It’s irrelevant to me. To my love for you. And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, cheering you on, until you don’t want me anymore.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I love you, Paul,” was all you could say. You leaned in and shared the sweetest, most loving kiss either of you had ever experienced. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. When you pulled away, the tension in the room was gone, replaced with you and Paul’s usual light, fun energy.

“How do you use them?” He smiled as he asked, nodding his head towards your nightstand where the dilator still rested. “Do you like… just ride them? Or..?”

You laughed, which made his smile broaden. “It’s not a sexual thing. Basically I put a towel down, cover the dilator in lube, and put it in as far as I can without pain. Then, I just sit there and leave it for like 20 minutes. And then I take it out.”

“So you just like... do homework while you do it?” His concerned face made you laugh again.

“You have to make your body associate it with pleasure, so no, I don’t do homework. Normally I’ll watch a funny show or eat some candy or FaceTime you.”

He froze at this. “You do this when we FaceTime?”

This made you blush and look away from his piercing gaze. “Sometimes. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just a nice distraction.”

“No, no. I don’t want you to stop. It’s just… can I see you do it?” This question shocked you. Not just the question itself, but the fact that you didn’t hate the idea. You loved kissing Paul. What better way to associate therapy with pleasure than by kissing him while you do it?

“Are you sure? Like I said, it’s not exactly sexual. Or sexy. Like at all. I literally just sit there.”

“I know, it’s ok. I want to be able to help you, but if you don’t want to we can just go back to the movie.”

“I mean I do still have to do it today.” You thought for another second, before jumping up and saying “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Paul looked happy and excited, but also lost. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, or with his eyes. Did you want him to touch you? Or just watch you? Or just sit in the corner of the room and face the wall? You were spreading a towel across the middle of the bed, and went to untie your sweatpants before looking at him.

“Guess we haven’t really gotten this far, huh?” alluding to being naked in front of each other. It did make you a little nervous, and nerves equal tight muscles, which means pain.

“Why don’t you put a blanket over yourself? That way there’s less pressure,” he suggested, and you could have kissed him for it. You smiled, nodded, and grabbed a throw blanket from the chair. He turned around to face the wall while you took off your pants and settled under the blanket.

“Ok, I’m good.” you said. He turned back around, coming to kneel beside you on the bed.

“Do you want me to just… hold your hand? Or sit here and talk to you?”

“Would you want to sit behind me?” You suggested nervously, leaning forward slightly.

“Of course! Yeah, I can do that.” He took this seriously, and you appreciated that. This was a scenario you had thought about many times, and though you knew he wouldn’t be the type to ask you to have sex with him despite the pain, it was always a possibility. The fact that he didn’t take your pain lightly, and let you be in charge so you would be comfortable, meant more to you than he would ever know. Paul gently climbed behind you, putting his legs on either side of you, and hesitantly rubbing your shoulders. You leaned back into him, as if to say I’m okay with this.

“Can you hand me the… “ You nodded your head towards the nightstand, and Paul didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence before he leaned over and grabbed the dilator and bottle of lube, holding them out in front of you both. You muttered a “thanks” as you took them from his hands, and brought them under the blanket. After slathering the dilator with a good amount of lube, you closed the bottle and tossed it towards the foot of the bed, leaning back and shifting your hips down. Paul clearly didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, so he was slow and careful as he wrapped his arms around your torso, giving you time to say stop. You didn’t, though. He felt your body tense slightly as you dragged the tip of the dilator around your entrance, so he started to rub his hands up and down your sides, kissing your cheek. You turned your head to look at him, and he met you with a sweet kiss. You guys pulled away slightly, before going back in as you began to push the dilator in further. He kissed you with love, tenderness, and care, so as not to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It was clear that you had the reigns, and Paul would stop as soon as you gave the slightest indication that you were uncomfortable. The dilator was about half way in, and you felt a slight stinging sensation, but kissing Paul distracted you. You brought one hand up to cup the side of his face, pulling him back in.

Paul kept kissing you, waiting for your lips to part so he could brush his tongue against yours. This is normally where you would stop him, but he knew everything now. There was no expectation of more, and damn. Paul was a really good kisser. He sucked lightly at your lower lip, before nibbling it and letting it go, coming back in with his lips. The combination of Paul’s kisses, the slight heat they brought to your body, and the pressure of the tip of the dilator inside you had you shift your hips, and involuntarily let out a small moan. It was barely audible, but Paul and his super senses heard it. You pulled away and slapped a hand over your mouth, your face turning bright red. He chuckled deeply, the sound going straight to your body, and brought his hand up to pull your hand off your mouth. “Don’t you dare hide those sounds from me,” he teasingly whispered into your ear. You shivered, and Paul started to kiss your cheek, down your jaw, and onto your neck. He sucked on the soft skin, hands squeezing your waist and rubbing up and down. You wanted to try something. For the first time, dilating actually didn’t feel so obligatory, so mechanical and stiff. You pushed the dilator deeper in, just about a centimeter, but enough to give you that feeling you had moments ago. You let out a breathy sigh as you tilted your head to give Paul more room on your neck. He felt you shift your hips again, and brought one of his hands to rub circles on your lower stomach. Skin on skin. And it felt good.

You kept going like this for a few minutes, and Paul could feel your skin grow hotter by the second. Your back was arched, your neck covered in light red marks, and Paul had the intense desire to see you unravel. He brought his lips from your neck up to the side of your face, getting as close to eye contact as he could in this position, and said “Can I touch you?”

You knew what he meant. The thought of it made you nervous. No one had touched you without it hurting before. It was almost as if he read your mind when he followed with “I can just stay on the outside…” Oh. You could be down with that. You turned your head to him and nodded.

“Just try not to touch the dilator,” you said softly. You trusted Paul. He was already being so kind and patient with this, and you knew he would die before he would ever hurt you. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your stomach travelled lower. Lower. Lower. Until he could feel the slight stubble of a past shave, and then your soft, wet skin. You gasped as he touched your most sensitive parts, even more so because of how turned on you were. He gently made small, tight circles over your clit, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fell completely slack against him and let out a moan. A real moan, that Paul swore he would never forget. And he made you make that sound. It only spurred him on. He applied slightly more pressure, but not so much as to overwhelm you. And he knew that when girls were feeling good, the secret wasn’t faster or harder, but to keep doing exactly what you were doing. So that’s what he did, and it had you writhing. Your moans kept coming, and your legs had started to shake. However, because it felt so good, your muscles had started to clench around the dilator, and it was beginning to hurt.

You didn’t want to rain on the parade. It was going so well. But Paul being the attentive lover that he is, noticed you begin to tense up in a new way. He brought his hand back up to your stomach, concern racing through his brain, and asked “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“It’s kind of starting to. Not you, the dilator. I think I might take it out.” You stared down at his hand still touching your stomach. Such beautiful hands. You didn’t want it to end.

“Do you want to try a smaller one? Or do you want to stop?” He questioned.

“I really don’t want to stop,” you laughed. He breathed a laugh as well, and waited for your direction. You had a thought. Paul’s index finger was smaller than the dilator. Much smaller. If you just told him what to do and what not to do, that could feel really good. “Would you want to maybe… Nevermind.” You got nervous.

“Hey, hey. No. Don’t do that. Tell me what you want,” He brought a finger up to your chin and moved your face towards him. “Tell me. Whatever it is, Princess. It’s yours.” Your whole body shuddered at this. He’s never called you that before, and to say it did something to you would be an understatement.

You let out a breath, gathering courage, and said “Would you want to… use your finger?”

He stopped at this. “Like, put my finger inside you? That wouldn’t hurt?”

“I don’t think so. It’s smaller than this,” you said, bringing the dilator out and up. “And as long as I tell you what to do, it could be really good,” you said the last part shyly.

“Okay, Princess. I can do that. How do you want me to do it?”

“Try to do more… pressure, and less… friction? Like try not to go in and out so much, but you can move it around inside.” Your face was once again blushing intensely.

“Anything you want. You just have to promise that you’ll tell me if it even hurts a little.”

“I promise.” You said it confidently enough that Paul brought his hand back down under the blanket. He circled your clit a couple times, making you shiver and release a breathy sigh, before moving his middle finger even lower, circling your entrance. He gathered some of the lube that was there from the dilator, coating his finger, and you brought your hand down to hold it, guiding it inside you at a speed that was comfortable. It was smaller than the dilator, so he was in you in 15 seconds. He stopped, and gave you a minute to adjust. Your hips writhed again because of how turned on you were, so Paul brought his other hand down and began circling your clit again. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you began to moan again, hips moving even more now. Paul took this as his queue to press his middle finger up against your inner wall lightly, causing a loud moan to leave your mouth. You were too far gone to be embarrassed.

“There you go, baby,” he praised. God, this was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He was barely touching you, barely moving his finger inside you, and you were a mess. He had been rock hard since you guys started, but your ass was rubbing against him as you moved your hips, and he released a small growl at the feeling. This only turned you on more. He kept moving his finger in you the same way. Pressure, not friction. Pressure, not friction. He kept telling himself this. He wanted to finger bang you into oblivion, but the risk of hurting you was too high, so he kept up with rubbing the tip of his finger against that spot on your upper wall, in a “come-hither” motion. Your moans began to get higher in pitch, your body tensing even more.

“Relax your muscles for me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, and you did. Your release was approaching rapidly, and you wanted to grind against his hand, but you didn’t want to risk pain, so you trusted Paul to get you there. You were panting, hips shuddering, face scrunched, as your climax hit you like a wave. Your legs shook as you opened your mouth in a silent scream, and Paul carried you all the way through it. You came down, and lightly grabbed his wrists. He knew that that meant stop. So he slowly withdrew his finger, brought it up to his mouth, and sucked on it. Head still up in the clouds, you watched him, slack-jawed, as he popped his finger out and moaned. “So sweet,” he purred. Watching him suck on his finger like that made you think of something you’d like to suck on, and you looked down at Paul, still rock hard, and turned around in his lap.

“Let me return the favor,” you said with a smirk.

#twilight #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote smut #wolf pack #seth clearwater #embry call #quil ateara #sam uley #jacob black #jared cameron #robert pattinson #bella swan #edward cullen #vaginismus #dilating #paul lahote x reader smut #twilight smut

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