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#homebody is the back was doing his thing too!
imsilay · 7 months
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LETHAL
NSFW! mdni, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging, stalker!König, obsessive König (idk lmk if i forget anything)
word count: 1.5k
summary: he was picky and he picked you.
next chapter here
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art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt
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You were doing the dishes as he was watching you from the apartment building next door which had a wonderful view of your bedroom and kitchen. He had seen enough to know many things about you and your life. You left your house at 10 AM every day and returned at 8 PM. You were a homebody, never wanting to leave your home aside from work and you only had your cat for company. You lived alone in a nice house and didn't often have friends over. He couldn't see any guys when your friends came by, meaning you were single, perfect.
He could even hear the music you were playing while doing the dishes. Your delicious-looking lips moved in time with the song, mumbling the lyrics. He couldn't tear his eyes off your lips. Focusing on them and imagining how they would taste. Perhaps blackberry? He had seen the lip balm you bought a few days before when you complained about how dry your lips were in the winter. Would you let him taste it and find out? Would you even look at him after discovering what he did?
His thoughts were cut off when you finished cleaning the dishes and embraced your cat, it was bed time. His gaze was glued on your back as you left the kitchen and disappeared into your living room, and then reappeared in your bedroom. He knew every part of your house. His heart raced when you put the cat down on your bed and then began removing your shirt revealing the curves of your body and the black bra he was stupidly fond of. He moved closer to the window without realizing it. Crossing his arms to stop the aching feeling to touch your smooth skin, his fingers dug into his arms when you finally tossed the shirt somewhere in your room, probably onto the chair, and then threw yourself onto your mattress.
Yawning and getting comfortable with your cat, it purred and get its place next to you. He wishes it was him… Curling next to you falling asleep with the warmth of your body. But it was impossible, cause he was just your sweet neighbor that you only had small chats, cause he was fucking massive and probably would take the majority of the space of your bed. You eventually fell asleep, he checked his watch. Just in time.
Well maybe it wasn’t that impossible…
He continued his observation for a few more minutes but he was unable to contain himself anymore. He had to be with you. He had to feel you, your body, your hair, the curve of your waist and hips. He wanted to touch your lips, but he was afraid that if he kissed you he would just get lost into them and fuck you there.
He shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts before they got dirtier. He grabbed the keys of his and your house and made his way to your apartment. After entering your home and closing the door behind himself, he took his sweet time to breathe in the smell. It was full of you, it made his head spin and heart race. This was his first time coming into your house when you’re there. You were so introverted and had barely any friends. You were living happily in your small world, that was until he came.
The man was over two meters and had on a strange looking mask. He immediately drew your attention because he just looked like some game characters you played. At first he was distant, cold. His icy-blue eyes were intimidating but somehow inviting. You were the first to start the conversation with him, asking about his work. You two became closer with time but it was never too friendly. He was just some neighbor you knew. But he wanted more. Much more.
So after many months of observation and gaining a lot of information about you, he managed to copy your keys. He would come into your house and feed your cat with treats making his presence known and loved. Unfortunately just with your cat. But now his dreams were coming true. He had given you some homemade cookies. And poor you accepted them without any suspicion and now you were on your bed, in a deep sleep, as he walked into your room. Your cat immediately noticed him.
But he was too mesmerized by your sleeping form on the bed that he was frozen in his place. The cat meowed loudly, drawing his attention to it, he gave it some treats he brought with him. Everything was planned. When the cat was out of the room and the door of your bedroom was locked, he walked to your bed. He was finally here. Right next to you as you slept beautifully. He swallowed thickly and sat on the bed. The bed made a squeaking noise with his weight.
You looked even more pretty this close. His gaze lingered on your face; his breath hitched when his gaze stopped on your lips. He reached out a hand and brushed the strands of hair off your face. He was so nervous that his hands were shaking when he touched your hair. It was as soft as he imagined it would be. He tucked your hair behind your ear; his fingers lingered on your jaw before stopping on your chin and tilting your head up just a little, just so he could see your face better. Your lips parted and a soft sigh escaped from your lips when he did; his heart skipped a beat.
You continued to sleep, without noticing the man's touch on your face, thanks to the cookies. His thumb caressed your lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lower lip. He was holding the urge to give into his feelings, to give in to his desires and take you just then, in that moment. But he had to be patient. He wanted your first time together to be special, like you deserved. But it was turning him on so much to see you in that vulnerable state. He just wanted to tore of your bra and see what’s underneath. Then move to your sleeping shorts and take them off along with your panties so he could eat you out until you cum or wake up. He wondered what your expression would look like.
But still… it was just his fantasies. It caused him pain physically. “Scheiße, Maus.” he mumbled with a sigh. He took of his mask with his still trembling hands and put it on your nightstand, then took of his boots placing them on the floor next to your bed. He was ready to curl up with you. He climbed next to you, close. So close that you felt his breath on your face. His heart was beating like crazy now. His hands found your waist. “Gott.” he hissed when he felt how soft your skin was. His arms snaked around your waist and drew you close until your body fit perfectly with his, lips only centimeters apart. “Mine.” he growled. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack because the proximity of your body. Your body was almost disappeared inside his arms. It only made him want to protect and posses you.
His fingers caressed your skin as he watched your face closely. To memorize everything about you. He even tried to count your eyelashes. It was stupid but he was just too lost in your beauty. One of his hands found yours and put it on his face. Like you was caressing his cheek. It was pathetic but he was too desperate for your affection. He left your hand on his cheek and his hand found your back. His fingers tracing up and down on your spine then eventually stopped on the clasp of your bra. “Nein, not now.” he scolded himself with his eyes frowned. His gaze found your lips again and softened. He wanted- no he craved to kiss you. Your lips looked delicious.
He swallowed and closed his eyes promising himself that he would stop after a taste. When he opened his eyes, he was determined to contain himself; to show restraint. So, his hand was on your chin again, tilting your head up to meet his lips. When his lips brushed against yours, he took in a sharp breath; like someone just hit him with a bat, kissing you felt like it. His hand on your waist pulled you closer, as close as he could. His kiss started slowly, with all of his love and affection; with all of his feelings. But the craving... the craving only grew. His whole body shook as he stole your breath. The determination of containing himself was no where to be found with his morals. He moaned into your mouth and his cock throbbed. His hands traveled down and big palms covered your hips. The kiss was sloppy and hungrier now. He was too lost into heaven. You were his heaven.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc<3
Stalker König has a special place in my heart. this is definitely my favorite work. also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)
i’m so sleepless so i’m just gonna post this and post the rest tomorrow.
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shaguro · 3 months
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♡ imagine onyankopon as your boyfriend... ♡
sfw
ony loves to pretend that he’s not completely obsessed with you, that you don’t have him wrapped around your finger but everybody around yall knows that’s not true. when you call he’s dropping everything to be by your side, doesn’t matter what he’s doing or who he’s with. you're his top priority, always.
acts of service is one of his love languages. any problems that you have, ony makes it his business to solve them. as his girl, you’ll never be stressed or be in need of anything because he’ll always provide, he’ll always take care of you. no independent woman shit round here. 🤭 “what’s wrong, baby? talk t’me, let daddy fix it.” “already told you don’t worry bout that shit.. i got it, mama.”
very attentive. surprises you with random gifts, usually things you’ll talk about and forget later on. (as long as you act right.)
definitely a “gimme kiss” type of nigga. lovessss kissing.
the sassiest nigga alive. loves using all the girl lingo. “yeah.. not too much.” “what you be saying? you ate thattt.”
as much as he loves expensive dinners and planned dates, he usually prefers to be home relaxing with you. ony is a homebody fr.
can’t sleep right if you’re not with him. and when he’s all cuddled up with you, you’re stuck there. better hold that pee till the morning.
possesiveeee. he tries to tone it down fr but he doesn’t play about you at all. anybody tries to push up on you, he’s ready to knock their head off. gets rowdy real quick.
steals your bonnets. like imagine you’d spent forever looking for your favorite one and you find him in the kitchen with your jumbo pink bonnet on his big ass head. “ony… take off my fucking bonnet.” “come take it off me, pookie.” knowing damn well you can’t reach him. 🙄
alwayssss buying you food. he loves to eat and makes sure you eat whenever he does. making you gain all the happy weight. “you ate mama?” “what you wanna eat? ima pick it up on my way back to the crib.”
you’ll always catch him staring at you. sometimes he can’t believe that you’re all his. and he doesn’t gaf, he’ll just be like “what? I can’t look at yo pretty ass?” “you too sexy t’not stare at, baby.”
nsfw
big dommmm. loves manhandling you, he’ll let you take control sometimes but it’s rare. (gotta catch him off guard)
will fuck the attitude out of you everytime. it’s like you tempt him because you know he’ll fuck some sense into you. (and do!)
loves spitting in your mouth. like holding your face and letting it drip off his tongue onto yours. jus nasty.
not much of a moaner, he curses and grunts a lot. some moans definitely slip out when he’s really in the moment, though. 🤭
eats your pussy as a form of apology. the way you grind your hips into his mouth? and grip his head? he knows you’ll accept it everytime. nigga you ain’t shit
loves backshots but also loves pushing them thick legs to your chest, giving long deep strokes that you can’t run away from.
loves putting a thumb in your butt like future LMAO
talks you through it, very verbal during sex in general. big dirty talker. 🤭 “let it out, mama. cum on this fucking dick.” “mhmm, just like that, fuck.” “this all mine… this my pussy, huh? say it.”
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taglist: @kittyarmin @dionnethinks @90ekz @rintcrous @zuriayan @prettypixigrl @bey0nseh
@/hoesluvshanti, 2023. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.
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bonny-kookoo · 4 months
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Attachment
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There's something growing between the two of you- or are you simply growing closer?
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, reader is a bit jumpy, some more lore, smut, slow sex, position changes, mentioned round two, some angy jungkook (but not at reader), some angst in the end but it's all resolved dw
Length: 7.2k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
A/N: I did not proofread this I'm sorry
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"Do you even know where we're going?" Jungkook worries, sitting next to you on the subway, but you just shrug.
"I know how to get back though, that's more important." You simply say, making him even more nervous.
Jungkook isn't used to giving up control like this. He's not used to being spontaneous and just doing things out of the blue because you feel like it. Things have to be structured, planned out and with a Plan B to go with it in case something goes wrong. He's an overthinker, and it shows, as he keeps looking around and asking.
"Just relax. There's a park nearby that I wanna go to. We can get some food close by and just eat it there." You say, and he sighs.
"I'm sorry." He admits, leaning back into the seat to try and relax more.
"Its alright. Most people panic whenever I talk about trips I take." You laugh.
"Do you travel a lot?" He asks, and you shrug.
"Used to. But.. he was more of a homebody. Didn't like staying at hotels." You explain, watching the scenery pass by next to you outside the window. "He kind of ruined it for me because he'd just.. continuously point out flaws in everything." You say, and Jungkook listens quietly. "Flaws that I'd.. overlook most of the time, because, nothing's ever perfect anyways, so why focus on that all the time?" You giggle, looking at him now.
"I'd disagree, but also agree." He chuckles. "There can be perfect things. It's just a matter of perspective, and how it's perceived by someone." He offers. "What's perfect to one might not be for another." Jungkook explains, and you nod.
"Thats the more.. complicated way of explaining it, I guess." You joke.
"I tend to overcomplicate things." He bashfully agrees, making you lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.
"You'll.. tell me when I get too much, right?" You ask quietly, and he nods, arm wrapping around you as if to reassure.
"I will, don't worry." He reassures you, before he moves to pull your hand up to kiss the back for it-
A gesture that makes you blush, especially from the people around you fawning over it as well.
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He's caught off guard when you walk around in nothing but underwear, visibly unbothered by him seeing you like this.
"Do you.. want to join me?" You ask. "The tub is a bit small but..?" You question, looking over your shoulder at him, who looks oddly unsure. Considering you both have had sex twice now- or more so once, really, it's odd to think that he's like this now. Is it because the nature of your.. whatever it is, has changed?
You're no longer just strangers without any connection. There's something deeper now growing. And maybe that's what's putting him under pressure.
"If you'd like me to." He shrugs.
"Only if you want." You say. "I won't be upset if you say no. I'm a big girl, I can handle rejection." You giggle, and he chuckles as well, smile a bit less tense as before.
"I'm sure you can." He agrees. "Though I'd be stupid to reject." He jokes, getting up to walk closer to you.
"Or simply cautious." You shrug. "Nothing wrong with that." You remind him, but he simply nods, and follows you into the bathroom. The water is streaming in, hot, soap bubbling up. Jungkook watches how you easily shed your last items of clothing before you sink into the water, and he does the same now, revealing himself bare to join you in the barely big enough tub behind you.
You're comfortably leaning against his front, very obviously not shy about this at all- and in a way, oddly enough, it seems to rub off on him, as he feels himself relax with you so close. "I want to move into an apartment with a bathtub one day." You giggle randomly.
"Does yours not have one?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"No, it's too small for one." You deny. "Does yours?" You ask, and he hums his answer.
"It.. I have both. One guest bathroom with a shower. The main one has a tub." He explains to you. "Maybe.. you could come over someday. See it for yourself." Jungkook chuckles.
"Hm. Maybe. When you want me to." You say.
"I do want you to-" He starts, feeling like he needs to argue- though he's not sure what about.
"I know, but you also don't, and that's fine." You laugh. "I.. you know, I kind of get the vibe from you that.." you start, but drift off.
"..that?" He softly urges, hands now moving underneath the water to find yours to hold.
"..that you're not used to.. you know. People asking for permission. Or just.. I don't know." You shrug. "You're always so surprised whenever I do nothing but simply take your feelings into account. You seem so caught off guard whenever I ask you if you're okay with things." You tell him, and his eyes stare at the slowly disappearing soapy bubbles on the water surface as he begins to think.
It's true that it's not common. He's the man- always has been one, and with that always came the burden of decisions. Evelyn always took the things he did for granted- saw it as something natural. The fact that he provided her with a place to stay, money and security was just a given to her, and so was the fact that whenever she decided where to go for dinner, or what to do on his days off. He always drove her to her appointments, always had to please her, treat her right, because that's always been his role to play.
So, you're right. He's not used to being given a choice, asked for permission, or questioned whether or not he was okay with something. And it's become so normal for him, that he truly believed that that was how things had to be like-
and maybe that's also why he was so hesitant with you. Why he still hesitates.
What if he does something wrong? What if he decides something you don't like? What if he's not what you want him to be?
You want him to be himself. But he's not sure he even knows how to be himself anymore.
"You should.. be more selfish, you know?" You say, voice echoing off the walls a little as you move around in the water. "Then I won't feel so bad every time I want to ask you to do something for me." You laugh, joking- but he catches the hidden words.
"You can ask anything of me." He chuckles. "Trust me, I can make decisions just fine." He reassures you, placing his hands on your shoulders.
"I'm not doubting that!" You laugh. "But just- You're.. really nice, and I'm kind of scared I'll screw this up." You sigh, trying to sit up and lean away from him- but he holds you towards him, keeping you close.
"There's no 'screwing up' for either of us. We might not work out for reasons, but I doubt we'll really.. screw up like you say." He offers kindly. "I kind of.. just want to be with you for the next few days. Nothing more, nothing less."
"In what way?" You almost whisper, and he chuckles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.
"In whatever way you'd like." He hums against your skin, hands traveling up and down the length of your arms.
"What way would you like?" You ask, and he leans his head a little to rest his face in the crook of your neck.
"Right now.. exactly this." He sighs out. "I'm enjoying this a lot." He reveals, and at that, you lean back into him, and you can feel the way his lips twist into a smile against your skin.
"Is.. what made you fall in love with uhm.. Evelyn was it, right?" You ask, and he nods.
"I'm not sure." He admits. "She was pretty. She liked me, or at least that's what she told me- asked me out one night, and I just said yes because why not?" He shrugs, water sloshing around a bit at that movement. "I didn't.. have much interest in her back then, but I felt like it could just.. grow down the line."
"I mean, she's still pretty from what I could tell." You giggle, though he shakes his head. "No?" You wonder, and again, he shakes.
"Not anymore." He denies. Maybe conventionally attractive. Physically." Jungkook sighs. "But inside, she's just.. ugly."
You nod at that. You understand what he means.
"What about Greg?" He wonders, since the situation seems as good as ever to gain some more information on the guy he's never even seen before.
"He was.. or, you know, isn't as tall as you. A bit shorter. Uhm.. harsher facial features." You remember. "He always looked a little intimidating to me. But I thought it was just appearance. He used to be really nice to me, you know?" You explain, before you sigh. "But.. I don't know. Over time, after we started living together, it just went downhill." You explain to the man currently holding you. "There were warning signs before, sure- but I thought he was just stressed."
Jungkook listens, and makes sure you know that he is doing it- though he also provides some slight physical comfort as well.
"I should've left when he started to yell at me. Insult me, you know? But I didn't. I thought, if I was nice enough.." You stare at the bubbles slowly dissolving. "..I thought it would be okay."
"You were in love." He reassures you. "And we do stupid things when we're in love." Jungkook admits, making you nod as you lift your head a little to look at him.
Finally realizing that while his situation might not have been the same-
he still understands. More than anyone else.
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The next day starts rather.. interesting to him.  
He's wondering how long it'll take for you to snap- because he's noticed that some of his habits and behaviours are clearly getting onto your nerves. But he's not hiding any of it away- you need to face the truth after all, that he's no angel, and no perfect man without any flaws. He's not sugarcoating things- but you are. And he's waiting for you to drop that façade.  
You're never truly relaxing. You act like you are- but he knows you're not.  
Meanwhile he's just himself, even exaggerates some of what he knows are his nasty habits- and you're just quietly stepping over his pants thrown in the middle of the floor in the hotel room, though he notices the way your eyes cling to them for a good second. And when you actually trip over them on your way out, it's when you finally decide to speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums, lifting his head from his phone to look at you. "Can you.. could you maybe try and I don't know.. put your clothes in one place only?" You ask, meekly, and that's when he notices something important. When he realizes something. 
You seem awfully.. wary saying that. Almost fearful.  
Oh. 
"Of course." He nods, getting up to put them away- and your reaction to that, is that just instantly fall into apologizing for your words- as if what you said could've insulted him in some way.  
"It's just that you could lose something you know?" You hum, wringing your hands anxiously. "And maybe you trip too and-" 
"It's fine, really." Jungkook reassures you after dropping his pants and shirt that's been laying around in his still opened travel bag, now turning towards you. "Come here." He sighs, and you do, walking close to him until he pulls you in and hugs you. "I'm not mad." He offers, and from the way you tense up, he realizes he's hit the nail on the head. "I'll never be mad- never like that. I can promise you that much."  
"I'm sorry." You apologize. "I know you're not like that-"  
"But it's a habit, I get it." He offers, before he lets you go to look at you properly. "I can imagine why you feel like you have to apologize right now- but there's no need to pacify me." He tells you. “I’m not angry.” 
"I know. I'm sorry- I never thought you were like that either." You sigh.  
“Small steps.” He chuckles. “We’ve got time.” he reassures. “Let’s go out and see if we can find a restaurant we want to eat at, hm? Something casual.” He teases lightly, making you nod.  
Just like he said- it’s a habit.  
You’re so used to having to justify your actions, having to apologize for everything, having to just suck it up and get over it that it’ll be probably a long road until you’re truly free again. Does he want to deal with that? Maybe not, maybe he’s just too nice to say it right now because you’re..  well, stuck together in this hotel on this trip together for a few more days to come, since he ended up making an entire week out of the three day trip. Maybe he just doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable,  because he’s just a nice guy like that.  
“Hey.” He rips you out of your thoughts. “let’s order room service instead.” He offers, and you’re confused.  
“But you wanted to eat out?” You wonder. “and.. we’re wasting an entire day by staying inside-“  
“We’re not wasting anything.” He chuckles. “I went on this trip with you to spend time with you. Which is what I’m doing right now.” He offers you, pulling your hands to have you close as he sits on the edge of the bed you both share. “you’re getting stressed. Tell me how I can help you.” He asks gently, as you sit on his thighs, unsure.  
You don’t know why you’re so on edge today. You can’t turn it off.  
“it just feels like.. any second now, something might happen.” You sigh, playing with the buttons on his shirt. “I’m not used to things being so.. okay.”  
“I understand that.” He nods. “you’ll get used to it in the future, I promise.” Jungkook makes sure to tell you, before he takes your hands again. “can I.. ask you something? And please don’t.. I’m not going to say the things I’ll say because something is  wrong with you or anything.” He says, and you nod for him to go on. “have you considered.. talking to someone about your past experiences? Someone professional?” He wonders, but you shake your head.  
“I feel like.. it wasn’t bad enough to really go to therapy for it. Lots of people go through tough times like that, and they manage just fine.” You shrug. “I’m just being dramatic about it. Like you said, I’ll get used to it with time.” You defend yourself by instinct.  
“You’ve been through something traumatic. There’s no.. threshold of how bad something needs to be to be able to seek out help.” He explains with a gentle tone of voice. “I’m not going to force you, obviously. But just so you know, your pain isn’t invalid just because others had it worse.” He says. “Think about it, at some point. Doesn’t have to be right now.”  
“I’ll.. keep it in mind.” You nod. “thank you.” You offer him, and he nods as well.  
“Nothing to thank me for.” 
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Jungkook is agitated.  
He’s been silent for a bit now, desperately searching for a spot to charge the electric rental car at- but all he finds are either in use or out of order. It’s raining too, meaning there’s not really anything you both could do other than just drive back to the hotel- but this charging spot has to work now, or the car won’t make it back.  
Everything is just going wrong.  
From the restaurant reservation somehow getting mixed up, to his phone constantly ringing because people won’t let him have his days off- poor device slipping out his hand at some point as he’d wanted to take it out the pocket of his pants, clattering to the ground, screen cracked in several places. Then, he’s informed of something urgent at work- he’s needed back earlier than he wanted to take time off for, meaning you’ll have to pack your things tonight already to fly back home by tomorrow morning.  
And now, as he gets out wordlessly to take the charger from the station, he reaches his breaking point.  
“fucking hell!” He barks out as he’s back inside the car, hand hitting the steering wheel once as the car denies any further distance. And he’s got tunnel vision too- not noticing the way you instinctively flinch next to him.  
But it’s just a habit of your body. Your mind knows that Jungkook’s anger doesn’t work like you’re used to.  
He’s on the phone, talking to a coworker when you take the chance to undo your seatbelt, before you open the door. His hand reaches out, softly holding your coat to send you an confused glance- worried even that he might’ve caused you distress. But you  give him a smile in return, and get out to walk into the gas station, finding an employee.  
“Sorry- I was just wondering.. the charging station outside doesn’t seem to work?” You ask, and the man behind the counter nods.  
“Oh? Yeah it does it sometimes. Let me come check it, it’ll probably just need a restart.” The man shrugs, taking some keys with him before he walks back out with you trailing after him. “Ah yeah, stupid thing got a little crazy again. Go sit inside though, you’ll catch a cold!” He laughs, waving you towards the car standing in front of the little station. “let me know when it starts charging.”  
You instead walk to open the trunk however, fetching an umbrella instead to hold over the man’s head- something he laughs at but thanks you for either way as he taps around on the panel.  
Jungkook watches from inside, using this moment to calm down again.  
He didn’t think at all. Did he scare you? Probably, considering he can be quite scary to other people as well if he gets frustrated like this. He hates how things like these just bubble beneath his skin all day until it boils over- especially considering that he’s been so eager to make sure that you know he’s not one to get angry easily. And yet here he is, having just yelled at a car for not working.  
Maybe he’s not the right person for you after all. You need someone calm and collected, not someone like him.  
Suddenly, the car chimes up, telling him it’s finally starting to charge- and outside, you’re thanking the man with the thick grey beard with a grateful smile, one he returns just as warmly before he walks back into the gas station with you. And when you emerge back out, you’re holding two cups of coffee to go- rain soaking your hair as you hold the closed umbrella beneath your arm.  
Inside the car again, you offer one of the cups towards him as if nothing happened. “I didn’t know if.. you liked sugar or creamer with yours.” You say. “so I brought some of both.” You say, putting the little packages of sugar and creamer on the mid console- where his hand suddenly finds yours, silver rings catching your attention for a second.  
“I’m sorry for earlier.” He apologizes, fingers tracing your cooled down hand that holds your own cup of hot liquid. “I didn’t mean to get so riled up.”  
“You’re stressed.” You shrug. “Its understandable. Just.. maybe take a moment to calm down right now?” You offer, and he nods, a soft smile on his lips.  
“thank you.” He says, before you nod and reach for the sugar packages to dump some into what he realizes is tea.  
“The car is really quiet when it drives.” You say, and he nods, taking a sip from his coffee.  
“It makes no sound.” He confirms. “the most you hear.. are really just the wheels on the road. The engine isn’t  loud at all.” He explains.  
“so when we drive fast it’s not the engine getting louder?” You ask, and he shakes his head.  
“No. It’s all just friction, and the air passing over the car.” He tells you.  
“Its kind of funny how far we’ve come.” You say, slipping out of your shoes to get comfortable in your seat, rain falling onto the roof of the car. “like, we have cars that we can just.. charge like phones. It feels weird.” You giggle, resting your head against the seat, while your back leans against the door.  
“Do you have a driver’s license?” He asks, and you shake your head.  
“I’m too scared to drive.” You deny. “I couldn’t handle memorizing all the rules and keeping them in mind at all times. I rather.. like being the passenger.” You nod. “you drive really well. I’d sleep if we went on a road trip.” You say, and he smiles.  
“I take that as a compliment.” He tells you, and you nod.  
“It was meant to be one.” You affirm. “earlier.. it was funny.” You say, suddenly not looking at anything- and he knows what you mean by ‘earlier’. “it’s like.. my body still reacts the same, but my head knows there’s no danger.” You explain. “they’re.. detached, in a way.”  
“I’m really sorry I lashed out like that.” He apologizes again.  
“don’t be.” You shake your head. “I need to face those situations too. There’s..  no use in wrapping me in bubble wrap. After all, you wanted to see if I can handle you, right?” You ask, and he nods. “See? I think my mind can. My body might not to some degree.”  
“we can work on that.” He gently offers. “your.. body will learn too. I want you to heal with me.” He says, and you nod.  
“I want that too.” You say. “I want you to heal with me too, even if all I can offer is just.. well, nothing.” You laugh, but he shakes his head.  
“You offer me this.” He explains, eyes watching you as his hand reaches out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “you offer me a break. A.. moment to calm down, like you said.” He reminds you of your words.  
“if that’s what you need, I can be just that.” You say, and he nods.  
“I couldn’t ask for more.” 
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ 
You’re late, but he can’t bring himself to care. 
He’d told himself to wait and not really indulge in any of this as long as you both don’t really know for sure where you want to take this- but you’re like a drug he can’t help but fall back on, a habit he can’t shake off. And it all happened so naturally, no words spoken as you both simply understood what the other was craving.  
Right now, everything is slow. You’re not even really undressed, him having kicked off his underwear beneath the covers, having had to somewhat get up and pull his travel bag closer to find a condom in there he had packed just in case, even though he did not plan for this.
It should have been his moment of realization. But he just couldn’t hold himself back after the lazy, but warm and almost comforting foreplay you two had indulged in after just having woken up, barely conscious.  
Your shirt is simply pushed up to reveal your naked skin beneath, and his hands are slow as they tug your underwear down your legs, sticky with your arousal from the earlier pleasure he’d brought you with nothing but his hand. You’re so warm from sleeping so close to him underneath the blanket you shared, eyes closed as you enjoy his offering of affection to you, kissing up your neck as he positions himself above you.  
There’s still no need for words. And he also fears that any sentence uttered by him could shatter this delicate moment between the two of you.  
Even though you should’ve woken up an hour ago, making you terribly late now, he just has to have this right now. It’s not just sex, and he hopes it’s not just that to you either- because this feels like a soft confession that’s not done in words, but actions instead. You really do offer him a feeling of weightlessness, as if time doesn’t exist, and no one expects anything of him. You just take him as he is, no questions asked.  
Maybe you’re this timeless because it doesn’t matter to you yet, considering the difference in age between you two. Should he feel bad about it then?  
Possibly. But then again, just like he’s using you to escape his own responsibilities and the pressure of his life, you’re using him just as much for a stable person to hold onto and rely on. And he’s fine with that. A good, healthy relationship should always have a balanced exchange. Give and take in equal amounts. Will this all become a problem in the future? Will you one day realize that he’s not able to offer you all the experiences you should have made in your twenties?  
Maybe. But even so, he realizes you’re right. It still wouldn’t be wasted time, if it’s spent with you.  
So what if he has to book and pay for another flight because you’ll surely miss the one he chose last night? He really couldn’t care less, because there’s no way he’s going to rush this. It’s the first chance at proper sex with you, finally a moment where he can give you actual attention as you deserve, not some quick fuck in the car or random blowjob on your couch. This isn’t just to satisfy your urges.  
This is a chance for him to show you love. 
And it’s clear that this is new to you- because you’re restless, as if you’re constantly expecting him to change pace, go faster, begin to rush towards his own pleasure. But he doesn’t, because that’s not his goal at all. His actual goal is to somewhat prove a point to you- that what he’s offering is not what you’re used to, in no way. He doesn’t see you as someone replaceable, someone who just has to be there, who has to listen to his every demand and do exactly as he says.  
No- he wants you to be yourself. He wants you to gain back that autonomy you rightfully deserve.  
Because one of the biggest things he noticed is how you constantly seem to live in a state of trying to pacify him at all times. As if you have to make sure he’s always happy and content with decisions made and words said, and he wonders just how bad your past relationship must’ve been to cause you to develop such behavior. So right now, he’s attempting to show you that he’s quite honestly the most calm around you anyways, even if you don’t do anything at all but exist alongside him.  
That’s enough already. He doesn’t need anything special from you, but yourself.  
Do you feel it? The way he’s pushing himself inside you isn’t an act of pure lust, but an attempt to connect with you, oddly enough. Jungkook has never seen sex as just that- but he has to admit that with Evelyn, the act had lost it’s appeal to him over time, mostly because he both knew that she was seeking out other people’s company aside from his own, and also because it just felt empty and unfulfilling to him. There was nothing to be gained from it, not for him at least- it only made him feel dirty and used, and towards the end of his relationship with her, he couldn’t bare to really let her touch him any longer. 
No matter what intention she had.  
But right now, with you, he’s feeling something- an urge he’s not felt in a long time, an excitement for possibilities and an eagerness to explore. And right now, he wants to take his time, watch you squirm beneath him, maybe even push you towards the limit of your patience. Will you beg?  
Why does that sound so arousing to him?  
He’s curious to know what you enjoy, what you want to explore, what you think about when you feel that specific need. He wants to ask what it was like before, has so many questions- but he also doesn’t want to speak right now, feels like this is neither the place nor perfect time to have a conversation like this. So instead, he just does what feels right- 
And judging by the way you sigh and reach out to touch him as well, it appears to be exactly what you like as well.  
Though he can also spot that impatience of yours growing, his smile not possible to be hidden as he rests his forehead in the crook of your neck, simply enjoying the closeness of it all as his hands run up and down over your body, exploring what he’s already seen before by now. But it doesn’t get old, doesn’t get boring- it never will be, most likely. He doesn’t know how long this will last, how long you’ll stay with him, or how long he’ll stay with you- but he wouldn’t mind to have you at his side long term, he knows that much.  
Or at least, he wants to try and make this permanent. 
Your legs wrap around his waist, clearly a sign of your dissatisfaction with the way he only occasionally actually moves, if anything, this all could count more as cockwarming than anything else. And now’s the time he has to break his silence, as he chuckles against your skin, placing faint barely felt kisses against the side of your neck. “What’s wrong, darling?” He purrs almost, while your hands move to rest on his shoulders.  
“Move.!” You complain, and he loves the demand so much. Not because he wants to go faster, but because you demand anything at all- something you should do more often. Maybe this is his way to go, moving forward. Maybe he could fuck some confidence into you.  
He surely wouldn’t mind doing it that way.  
“I am moving.” He teases, his low tone still raspy from lack of use during sleep causing your core to clench around him.  
“Our flight..” You mumble, fingers running over the back of his neck, causing him to involuntarily shiver.  
“I’ll book a different one later.” He denies, adjusting his position a little, pressing himelf as deep as he can inside you, leaning back to have his hands on your thighs, fingers running over the warm skin.  
“But that’s wasted money..” You say, unable to really resist his touch however, your arguing weak in nature and delivery. “And you’re needed back at work..”  
“I’m needed here, right now.” He instead teases, using your legs to pull you closer, slowly starting to thrust, your chest swaying alongside the pace he sets. “By someone I find way more important than work.”  
“But-” You start, but he decides to play dirty now, delivering a particularly hard thrust to shut you up or at least give him the chance to speak before you can finish your sentence.  
“You’re important.” He simply chuckles. “Right now, and afterwards, too.” He makes sure to tell you, before he leans over again, faces close. “Can I kiss you?” He wonders, eyes falling to your lips for just a second. “You can say no. I won’t be upset at it.”  
But you nod. “I want you to.” You say, for a second questioning if your words might’ve been too demanding- but it doesn’t appear to be the case, as he leans in to catch your lips, first kiss between you both passionate and warm- not hot, nowhere near burning. It’s like a promise, a silent gesture of devotion from him, an offering of his to show that he’s actually taking this seriously. 
He’s in it now. This is no longer just playing around.  
He’s not going to tell you he loves you- because he’s not there yet, and he knows neither are you. But he truly believes that these feelings can grow if he nurtures them well, and if you accept them and let him plant them in your heart. He wants the vines of what might grow to connect you both, because that’s what you both deserve.  
He knows his own worth. And he wants you to know yours, too.  
His lip piercings are a little foreign, but in a way, they make it a unique experience to you. Or maybe it’s the sincerity he has in his actions, the way he treats you, the fact that he pays so much attention to you as well during this whole thing. You’re not used to this. He doesn’t seem to expect anything of you, and it makes you a bit anxious.  
But even that, he notices.  
“Let go, darling.” He chuckles against your lips, barely apart from you. “I’ll take care of you.” 
“But shouldn’t you be taken care of too?” You worry, and he just smiles.  
“This is more than enough for me, trust me.” Jungkook responds, moving a bit faster now. “I just want you.” He tells you, and you're sure he doesn’t know the weight of that statement. 
Or how long you’ve waited for someone to say it like that. 
Because even though it’s said right now, during the act, but it’s not actually sexually charged. It’s not said in the context of ‘I want you right now’- but it’s more generalized. He wants you.. In general. Not just in this moment, or for this specific action.  
So when you simply trust yourself in the heat of the moment, turning the tables or more so positions, you feel a strange sense of confidence as you now ride him, his hands on your hips taken by yours, fingers intertwining while he watches you for a moment, clearly fighting the urge to just relax and close his eyes, sight of you too pretty to miss. But he can’t help it, leans his head back into the pillows with a lazy smirk on his lips, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you, slow pace all you both need as you push each other over the edge, coming undone at different times- but still, that doesn’t make the moment any less meaningful.  
He keeps you in this position for a moment while he spills into the condom inside of you, not utterly exhausted, but entirely satisfied nonetheless. He feels nice, like his mind and body have been reset, truly giving him a fresh start to the day as he finally opens his eyes after bathing in his own afterglow.  
A glance to the side offers him the time. Your flight has left almost half an hour ago by now. 
“We missed it.” You mumble sleepily, and he nods, before he playfully manhandles you around to lay on your back on the bed again, pulling your shirt over your head. “Jungkook!” You laugh, and he chuckles along, attacking your shoulder and neck with kisses and even bites, visibly energized now.  
“Good.” He purrs against your skin. “Up for a round two?” 
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ 
You feel a bit embarrassed. 
You’ve been home for two days now, and you miss him. Terribly so. Even though you try and occupy yourself with work, your mind keeps going back to the time spent with him, and you’re conflicted. Should you reach out? Text him? He told you he wouldn’t mind, but he also seemed a little stressed about work, so you probably shouldn’t bother him.  
Maybe you could ask Tae? 
But he doesn’t really give you an answer, somehow sounding oddly reluctant even to just talk about his friend in any way, and it makes you suspicious. So today, you finally jump over your shadow, and text him- just to get no reply for hours. It’s not until later that day that you receive a phone call instead- his voice sounding tired. “I’m sorry I’ve been silent.” He simply says, and you’re immediately alarmed.  
“What’s that noise in the background?” You want to know, because it sounds very much like something you’re very much familiar with. And with the way he dodges an answer by sighing first, you just know what’s going on. “Which hospital are you in? Do you need anything?” You rant. “What even happened?” 
“Nothing happened-” He quietly argues, sounding awfully like a scolded child almost, but you cut him off.  
“Well something clearly happened for you to be in hospital!” You argue, before you calm down. “I��m sorry, I just-” 
But Jungkook reassures you as always, giving you the name of the hospital he’s staying at, as well as the room he’s in, so you can visit him. And the moment you walk in with some snacks approved by the doctors, you feel like you’re the one in need of medical attention.  
“What happened?” You weakly ask, carefully sitting down next to his bed where he’s in, a hand running over his face, careful not to twist the delicate tubes connected to the needle in his arm.  
“Just an accident.” He says, though he’s not looking at you- and it makes you anxious.  
“What accident?” You ask, and when he doesn’t answer, you press on, unable to keep your emotions in check properly. “Jungkook please. You said we should be honest-” You softly say, and he sighs, licking his lips.  
“I.. Fell asleep.” He mumbles quietly. “While driving to a meeting. I was late, and it was.. Just for a split second- and suddenly it all went to shit.” He explains. “I was- the road was empty. And it was so fucking late, I- don't know what I was thinking.”  
It’s quiet after that, apart from staff and visitors moving outside in the hall, barely heard through the closed door, but the machine that’s keeping close measurement of his vitals occasionally makes a sound.
Jungkook barely manages to look at you, and when he does, he’s not sure what that expression on your face means. You’re looking at a nasty bruise on his wrist, face unreadable, before you eventually speak again.  
“Jungkook.” You say his name, and your voice is bone chillingly serious, demanding his full attention.  
“Don’t you ever do that again.” 
Your words are heavy, full of emotion and yet delivered in a monotone anger that makes him realize the gravity of the situation. He’s lucky he didn’t hit anyone in that tiny second, should be forever grateful nothing major happened at all except for his car getting crashed beyond repair.  
“I’m sorry-” He begins, but you shake your head, speaking after you take a deep breath as if to collect yourself.  
“No, I don’t want an apology.” You deny. “You can’t do this.” You say, and he’s a bit unsure what you mean, when you turn to look at him with glossy eyes. “You can’t make me get attached just to... pull something like this.” You say. “That’s cruel, Jungkook. You could’ve killed someone.” You tell him, and he nods, quietly. “Get a cab next time, or have someone drive you, fuck I don’t care!” You become a bit louder now. “But you can’t do this. You can’t be this selfish.” Is your response, as you finally properly look at him, close to tears. “I’m starting to need you, Jungkook.” You confess.  
“You can’t leave me alone like that.”  
And at the first tear falling, he chooses to ignore his physical pain, to move over a little and have you sit on the side of his bed, clinging to him as the full force of it all hits you, arms reaching out for him, grabbing hard at the hospital gown he’s in, desperate to hold him.  
As if you need to know he’s still there, that he’ll be fine.  
“I’ll make sure to rest properly from now on.” He promises, hand that’s not hooked up to anything running over your back as you cry into his chest. “I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.” He tells you, and you nod, though you stay close.  
It takes a good moment for you to calm down again, and when you are, he uses that energy you both have now to dig a little deeper.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out, by the way.” He tells you, and you shrug. “No, I mean it. There’s no excuse for it.”  
“You were busy.” You mumble, but he shakes his head.  
“Doesn’t matter.” He denies. “I’ll make more time for you. I need to rest anyways, and even after I’m healed, I should take a step back in general. Like I said-” He offers, wincing a bit when a movement causes him pain. “-I have to take better care of myself. For you.”  
“I’m sorry.” You mumble, detaching yourself a little from him again as you sit up, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. “I’m getting clingy already-”  
“No, please.” He encourages, giving you a soft smile. “Be clingy. I promise you, I’m just.. It's just a bit odd to me at the moment.” Jungkook reveals. “I’ve not had someone care for me in such a way in.. A while.” Or ever, he wants to actually say- but he doesn’t want to put so much pressure on you.  
He can leave those big confessions to a later date.  
“Should I.. do you need help at home once you get out of here?” You wonder. “I could help you? Or, maybe you can.. I don’t know-”  
“I’d really appreciate your company.” He smiles. “And your help too. But mostly your company.” Jungkook teases, making you laugh in relief.  
Not just because he clearly looks worse than it actually is- 
But also because his smile looks oddly youthful- and most of all, truly genuine. 
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selarina · 6 months
Text
The phone rings. Once. Twice. Thrice… and Gojo Satoru found himself contemplating hanging up, yet just as the thought formed, you answered, on the sixth ring.
"Hello," your voice emerged painfully neutral.
He couldn’t tell if now’s a good time. He hears some background music, akin to the subdued chatter of a small crowd, as though you were in a café of some sort. He thinks, no— he knows this a bad idea, but the words tumble out of his mouth anyway. “Hey, it’s me Gojo Satoru.”
"Yes, I know, Satoru," you replied with tint of slight irritation
You didn’t delete his number. At least this is a hopeful start.
“Happy birthday,” he said. “I know I'm a few hours late. I'm sorry.”
"Thanks... you don't have to apologise," you replied, your tone truly void of any accusation. Right, he thinks, it’s not his place.
“I know, but I still feel sorry,” he confesses. “I feel bad.”
“Okay,” you respond flatly, and there’s a pause that extends into almost a minute of full silence before you speak up again, “Is that what you called me for? To wish me?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Okay,” you say, letting a pause mull over you. “I’ll get going then. It was nice talking to you.” you say.
“I— I forgot your birthday. I only remembered it a few minutes before,” he adds, his words flowing out a bit hastily just in case you cut the call on him,l. It would pull the plug on him forever, leaving him breathing heavy and heavy until he’s left alone to drift away in the dark.
"Uh, okay," you responded, sounding confused.
"I mean, I hated that," he continued, his words flowing in an anxious succession. "I hated seeing you become this... this person I used to know. Whose birthday I couldn't even remember. I used to be the first to wish you, every day for years. Do you remember that?” he asks. “I miss that."
“Yeah, I remember," you murmur softly. You remember it. But in your recollection, what emotions dwell? Do you remember it with a sense of fondness? Do you remember it with sadness? Or did you remember it as a cautionary tale? He couldn’t tell.
“I miss that,” he repeats because his words are limited and he’s scared of saying anything more but he’s more scared of saying nothing ever again.
A beat passes by, and he stays still in his seat, holding his breath for nothing in particular.
“Me too,” your voice comes out. It doesn’t sound like a confession, it’s the one thing he liked about you — how your confessions came out of your mouth like indisputable facts. I like your smile. I like your eyes. I like you. I love you. These sentences didn’t seem like a confession; you would say it and he would know for it to be as true as the moon in the sky.
He smiles, “How did you celebrate?”
You sighed, "Not much. Dinner with the family, drinks with some friends, and now I'm heading back home."
"It's only 11 pm," he chuckled, as though he wouldn't be in bed by 9 himself.
“Yeah," you chuckled in return. "Guess some things have changed."
“Not really, you were still a bit of a grandma back then,” he teased.
“I was not!” you protested. You were not.
"There's no shame in that," he reassured, well loving and accepting of your homebody nature.
“There’s an hour left,” you say all too suddenly, interjecting him into a pause.
“An hour?" he spoke up, puzzled.
"Of my birthday," you clarified.
"Right," he responded, uncertain where this was leading.
“Well, you can always make it up to me.”
“Make what up?” he asked.
“Not wishing me,” you specified. “There's still another hour left.”
A smile crept onto Gojo's face, and he was already reaching for his car keys as swiftly as your words had emerged from your lips.
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amaranthineghost · 16 days
Text
BUT I LOVE YOU SO (PLEASE LET ME GO) ( lando norris. )
he loved her, but knew he had to let her go even if it killed him inside. still he left a paper trail back to him.
warnings: heavy angst I suppose
authors note: wrote this with 2 am motivation. it was about time I finally gave you guys some writing after a couple of months of an absence (I sincerely apologize). I was thinking of making this one of the parts of the mini series because it sort of fits what I want to do with it, but i figured since i hadn't put anything out in a while, it'd be its own separate thing <3
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HE LOVED HER with every fiber of his being. every cell in his body lived for her, he told himself. the blood that ran through his veins underneath his tan skin, all the way to his heart that he had so carefully carved to be able to beat for her. she was the center of his life, he thought.
he really thought.
because now, as he sat and watched her through the fingers over his face to hide the incoming tears, he wished he knew what he should've done. because he only knew what to do.
to let her go.
surely, it wasn't easy, it was never going to be. but alas it was inevitable for the lovers to part though at the time, they wished for it to be only shortly.  but they were never coming back. they didn't want to believe, but their hearts knew.
it was a long time coming, but nothing could've prepared them for the heartbreak they forced upon themselves. it was like running blindly into the brick wall they had built together.
they didn't ever fight though. that was the one thing they took pride for their relationship, but now they realize it would've been better for petty arguments. because now, they realize they just don't work.
he was social, she was a homebody. he loved the night life, jumping between different clubs across cities he'd drag her to. of course, at the time she didn't mind being pulled into a club every so often, but it wasn't her scene. the media never was.
he knew that. she knew that it was his.
her hands shook with every folded article of clothing, occasionally wiping her nose with the back of her hand as she tried to avoid his figure altogether.
it wasn't like she didn't want him, in fact she needed him. but the relationship was doomed from the start, she knew yet she didn't care because at the time, everything was tunnel-visioned and he was the light at it's end. 
her best moments were the ones lived with him, yet also the worst ones too. but she didn't regret it, it shaped them for their future. one where they knew they couldn't be by each other's side.
they knew heartbreak was looming over them, though the possibility of severing their relationship at any given moment didn't dawn on them till blood was pouring out the wound and there was nothing they could do to stop the bleeding.
they wouldn't try to, they knew better than to patch a wound that would never heal. they let it bleed onto the cold floors of their apartment. the one she had to leave.
nothing had happened in the way they had wanted, but when would it ever if everything was always working against them? it was the world versus them and they lost.
they accepted that defeat.
she tried her best to keep her composure as she packed, for whatever thin thread they held onto would snap if she broke down. because they both knew he couldn't leave her if she did, wouldn't let her go.
because she knew he'd give up his career, his dream, in a heartbeat if it had meant he could still hold her at night. he said forever, and he would make it happen.
it sent her over the edge, reliving their relationship as her fingertips creased memories and packed them into a suitcase, each item of clothing holding significance from their relationship. all from the beginning, she'd kept everything, and that wouldn't change.
she broke. she recognized the textures beneath her fingertips before she could look, her favorite dress. her favorite dress that he bought for her for their anniversary. she knew it was over.
as soon as the choked sobs left her lips, the armchair he sat on creaked as he simply stood and walked to console her. his arms wrapped around her shoulders as the warmth of his chest spread across her back, which did nothing but break her heart more.
she pressed her lips against his skin, though not in an intimate manner, but to hide her struggled cries as the tears down her cheeks began to stain his skin with mascara. she gripped his forearm and bicep tightly, leaning her head further against him.
" 'm sorry," she mumbled against his skin, sniffling as she struggled to catch a breath between sobs. she clenched her eyes shut, seeing dizzying shapes underneath her eyelids. she hoped it would stop the tears.
"shh," he shushed as his lips kissed her hair, muffling his words, "i should be sorry."
still he spoke ever so softly to her as the day they'd met and she couldn't help but fold for his tone of voice every time. even when she knew she shouldn't.
" you have nothing to be sorry for, lan..." 
"i should've know the media would be too much for you, love." he mumbled against her hair, "i have everything to be sorry for."
"but i handled it." she peeled his arm from her skin, the streaks of black mascara almost making her lips twitch into a smile as it brought back memories. memories of crying-laughing and smearing mascara onto his arms. still, she held his wrist as she turned to face him, yet she didn't step back.
it'd be the last time they would be this close.
but part of him didn't want her to turn around. he loved when her makeup ran down her face as she cried tears of joy, with the bright sun shining down on her, acting as her personal spotlight, because she was the center of attention, with the wind blowing her hair.
he wished he could see her like that one more time before they left for good. because now he stood, resisting the urge to wipe the tears off her face. because now it wasn't happy, it was sullen. he wanted everything to be able to take care of her, to not let her leave. not yet.
he sighed, he had to give in. he always would, he couldn't help himself when he smudged the running mascara off her face, "fuck, that never works, does it?" he muttered in a soft panic as he realized he just made more of a mess.
she chuckled. she loved whenever he lightened the mood, intentionally or not, it was something she could always count on him to do, "every time, lando, every time." she replied through soft chuckles, sighing as she calmed.
he became serious once again as the smile slowly fell from his face and he wiped the black from his fingers, "but really, did you handle it?" he asked lowly, looking down at her with the same, soft look on his face she could always count on, "i know the media really affected you."
she sighed. there was no denying the exhaustion the media and paparazzi caused. they thought they were fine in the bubble of their apartment, but that bubble had long popped.
"you were born to shine, lando." she simply responded to not give him the truth he was expecting to hear, "that's just not me, we both know it."
"i know." he whispered, biting his lip and looking at her with a gloomy expression. he felt regret and guilt, " 'm sorry."
she shook her head, raising her hand to his jaw to trace the bone under his skin, “i know, but we're both at fault here. we should've known it wouldn't've worked out."
it hurt for them to hear, but it needed to be said, and he would've never said it. it was the truth.
she sniffled, backing away with the realization of how close they had become as she wiped away stray tears and turned back to the half-packed suitcase on the bed they once shared.
he watched her face as her eyes scanned the still heaps of clothing left for her to take, and boxes needing to be filled, "do you want some help?" he offered, his hand grabbing the back of her arm, caressing the skin as she jumped slightly at the contact.
she sighed and said through an awkward chuckle, "please," she reached again for clothes to resume her packing, " 'm afraid i'll change my mind if i stay too much longer."
her words hurt, like daggers slicing through his skin. another wound they couldn't heal.
"would it be that bad?"
his response hurt more. she hadn't meant it like that, but words were subjective. it was like he had taken the knife from beneath his flesh and twisted back into hers.
"no, lan, i didn't mean it like that-" she dropped the shirt she held to place a hand on his bicep, which he shrugged off.
" 'ts fine," he spoke without a tone in his voice, which was odd for him. His focus was on her clothes in his hands and somewhat neatly packed away into one of her many suitcases.
"but i just meant-"
"listen, 'ts fine, we aren't together anymore so we don't have to fix things, or try to."
she squirmed under the dagger as it twisted deeper into her flesh. the air was tense, too silent for her liking and his new attitude threw her off.
it made her realize that maybe there was something more to them that didn't work. because surely any two people who loved each other would make it work out.
it didn't make sense though. maybe it never would.
after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence between them where the only sound was folding of cloth and zipping up certain spots in her suitcase, he turned his back and left the room.
she watched him leave from the corner of her eye, but she didn't stop him. she wanted to though. she wanted so desperately to grab him by the arm and force him to talk to her, but she wouldn't. he was right. they weren't dating.
besides they couldn't even fix what they had before.
minutes later he reemerged with a hand stuffed in his hoodie pocket and another behind his back with something he hid from her. she couldn't get a peak before he slipped it into one of the boxes. she shrugged it off as something she had forgotten.
he returned to helping her fold, but this time with his back towards her. it pained her, she didn't want him to turn his back on her, yet in a couple of hours, she would walk through their apartment door, her back turned to him. it was unfair, she knew.
the tears this time were silent as they streamed down her face, but she didn't make a sound. she watched his actions for a solid five minutes, seeing his best attempts folding her clothes, for her. he was never the best at it, as she had poked fun at him for it in the past. it hurt to think she would never see the difference of neatness in her closet anymore.
her attention was piqued  when she saw his movement halt, quickly resuming with a messily put-together hoodie, one she didn't recognize to be hers.
she didn't get to look before he flipped back the top and zipped it up to go with the others.
she didn't have time to wipe the fresh tears from her face when he turned around after pulling the suitcase from the bed. he paused, dropping the handle.
in a swift motion, he pulled her into his chest. she couldn't stop herself from breaking down in his arms, his hand wrapped around her head, the other around her back. they stayed silent, apart from her sobs into his shirt. he didn't care if she ended up staining it.
they swayed for a while, longer than they should've, but at least now she had calmed down. though tears still streaming down her face and a headache forming in her head, they pulled apart slightly.
her hair was messy, her nose, cheeks, eyes and lips were red, her eyes were puffy and tears stained her face, but she was still prettier than ever.
he couldn't help but tuck the hair in front of her face behind her ear, his hand resting on her jaw.
for the last time, they kissed.
to him, it was like he was taking his last breath of air, or gulp of water for the rest of his life. he was taking what he could.
the taste of her salty tears, the wetness from her cheeks now on his, the hands in her messy hair pushing her desperately closer because he didn't want to let her go.
they sighed when they parted, his teeth grazing her bottom lip at a desperate attempt for more. more time.
they both stepped back, staying silent once again. they didn't have anything to say because their actions said it all. he stepped back to the suitcase he dropped and started moving them out to her car, which had considerably more trunk space than any of his.
it felt like when she was first moving out for college, with stacks of boxes and plenty of suitcases to make it seem like she was fleeing the country.
it all ended the second she walked out the door, but she didn't have to turn her back on him as he walked her to her car, opening the door.
one last hug between them. the last contact.
but they still followed each other's lives.
she would watch his races from the comfort of her new living room couch because she still worried about him the same amount from when they were dating. she noticed his suffering performance, though she sighed every time he crossed the finish line unscathed.
part of him knew she was watching for him.
he still followed her private accounts, liking the posts of the lifestyle that he could never live. it just wasn't his to experience, just like his was never hers to live either. most nights spent drunk in the dj booth, or out to dinner with other drivers, the social life had never been her scene.
he knew.
he knew all along that it was never going to end as they wished in the moment. they stared at their future without fully knowing what was waiting, yet they didn't step down.
months had passed. their lives were supposed to have gotten better, but they could both see they were both suffering.
boxes still unpacked from when she first left, she had never gotten around to fully moving in. still suitcases and cardboard boxes laid around the kitchen of her new apartment.
she felt like she should open them, like she needed to. if not now, would she ever?
boxes full of old memories from her childhood, or stuffed animals she had always convinced lando to buy for her. until there was one box left untouched. she hadn't remembered packing this one.
carefully, she sliced the tape and pulled back the cardboard. she was speechless.
his race helmet. his race helmet he dedicated to her.
dedicated for the anniversary of the day they met. for the race of the country where their eyes first found each other.
it had details about her. her favorite colors, places, things. it had her name, big enough to see from a while away.
he loved this helmet. and he gave it to her.
all she could do now was hug the last remainder of him and cry. she wasn't sure if letting him go was the right or wrong decision, but it felt wrong to question it now.
when she pulled away from the helmet and sniffling her nose, she noticed a piece of paper lodged into the visor. carefully, she pulled it out, unfolding it to see the familiar and horrible handwriting of lando norris.
she was lucky she learned to read it over the years or she would've been screwed.
blue suitcase. for when you're ready.
out of all of the suitcases she had taken, only one was blue. the one he had packed.
she hastily picked herself off the floor, carefully setting the helmet down on the kitchen counter before dropping back down on her knees and desperately unzipped it.
she tossed through every pocket and article of clothing packed into the suitcase, inspecting every single item. until she found it.
of course, he had given her one of his hoodies, but it was not just any of his hoodies. once again, a favorite of his he wore regularly. he gave it to her. it smelled like him still. curse him for spraying cologne on it.
she felt the fabric beneath her fingertips before slipping it on. a smile crept onto her lips as she went and sat back down on her couch, the TV had been playing FP3 in the background before quali in a couple hours time.
she pulled her blanket back over her, slipping her hands into the pockets. her brows furrowed when she felt yet another piece of paper, pulling it out to reveal even more horrendous handwriting from her beloved racer.
will let me know you're watching?
any day now love.
when the nights get lonely, i'll be waiting.
whenever you're ready.
i miss you, i'm sorry
ynusername
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liked by landonorris and 4037 others
ynusername I don't know if i'm ready for this...
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proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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xxstargirlx-x · 27 days
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Theodore Nott Headcanons (as requested<3) (fluff)
As always, feel absolutely free to send requests for stories, headcanons or characters alike, don't even have to be Hogwarts characters<3 Enjoy!
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-School was never his strong suit. Whenever he doesn't understand a new topic, he will ask you for help after class. And even when he understands a topic, he will still ask you for "help". Every excuse to spend more time with you. He loves how your brow furrows in defeat when he plays dumb and you have to explain a concept to him for the 5th time. He's amazed at how patient you are with him.
-Let me tell you, this boy likes to EAT. Like a lot. An ungodly amount. He doesn't look like it (god, you're jealous of his metabolism) but he eats like he should be three times his size, always hungry. "Hey Theo, you hungry-" "Yes! Did you make something? Merlin, I love you. Give it, I'm starving." He ate an hour ago. Regardless, he jumps up like a giddy kid every time you feed him, chewing his food with the biggest smile possible.
-On the flip side, his cooking is pristine, better than yours you would say. Thank his Italian nonna for that, put that man in a kitchen and he throws down. It's your favourite thing to watch him cook, and he always pulls you into the kitchen, handing you a glass of wine and slow dancing with you to whatever Italian oldie is playing.
-Talking about his nonna, he loves to take you to Italy over the summers. He shows you around his town happily, proudly introducing everyone to his gorgeous girlfriend. You're a local now, they love you! "Ah bella, Theo's girlfriend, si? Welcome back!" You get the full experience when you're with him, a view into his life when the stress of school and the UK falls away. Aperol Spritz at sunset, his Nonna's homemade Limoncello and a good novel by the pool and romantic picnics by the water.
-One thing. Theodore Nott is judgey as hell. He doesn't do it on purpose. But when he witnesses a peer embarrass himself or god forbid that one time Blaise cut his spaghetti before eating them, he can't control himself. His facial expressions are the most comical thing in the world. "Y/n, did you just see that? We both saw it, no? Holy fuck, I'm gonna pass out." Dramatic much, Theo?
-I'm sorry, but he is the kind of guy to throw up a gangsign in a group photo. He thinks it looks sick. You haven't had the heart to tell him it doesn't. Lucky for him, he looks good no matter what.
-Every time he messes up, he straight up runs away from you, crying laughing as you chase him. He made a terribly dirty joke that was highly inappropriate given the situation? One look from you tells him enough and he's zooming through the school hall, running for his life, you on his tail. He's a runner, he's a trackstar! Could he overpower you physically if necessary? Yes. Still, is he running faster than you thought humanly possible whenever you're about to smack him over the head? Also yes. Kachow!
-His love language is being interested in the things you are interested in. "You like that book? Let me borrow it. Well, 'cuz I wanna read it too, baby." Let's just say he is traumatised by some of the books you read. "Baby, this is literal written porn??? You read this stuff?" *Smirks*
-He loves taking you out to parties. Even if you were a homebody before dating him, now you are at every house party imaginable. Again, he loves showing you off and getting absolutely wasted is his excuse to be all over you on and off the dancefloor.
-Before he met you, staying in on a Saturday was unimaginable to him. Even though he still loves to go out, he's become a sucker for movie nights with his beloved. You started the tradition, a cozy blanket fort, good snacks and a movie you could both agree on, and he fell in love with it. You'll be having a bad day in class when a text finds you. "Movie night tonight?:)" Oh, how it sweetens your day. You both look forward to it every time.
-He's a sucker for a good head scratch. Like a puppy, you say to him every time. "Nuh, uh. If I was a dog, I'd be a big one, a scary one." "Of course, Theo." He nods proudly before dropping himself on your lap, melting into your touch.
-He loves you more than life, more than himself, but what kind of man would he be if he was all sappy and sweet about it all the time? No, he shows his love by picking on you lovingly, by being a meanie in the sweet way only he knows how to be.
-Spends all him money on you, happily. Even if you tell him you don't want him to, expect your favourite snacks, books or fresh roses on your bed more often than not. Oh and did I mention he loves taking you out? Because he does. Whenever a peer calls him a simp, he's proud. "If prioritizing your girl and treating her right makes you a simp, then call me a simp. I don't give a shit." -Theodore Nott, 2024
-Super light sleeper. Don't think you can sneak under the covers when he's napping without him noticing, he'll have his arms around you and his face in the crook of your neck in a millisecond.
-Thinks you're the prettiest girl in the world. Like no joke, he can't wrap his head around the fact that you just have the audacity to exist looking like that, and that you're his girl. Must be wizardry! Of course you're his Lockscreen and he uses every excuse to show off what he believes to be the most gorgeous photo ever taken of you. "Oh, what time it is? Check it yourself, here." *Pokes out his opened Lockscreen to whoever asked him for the time.* "That's my girlfriend btw. 😎"
Hope you enjoyed this tomfoolery, BYEEEE ily<3
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pupkashi · 8 months
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boyfriend!yuta headcanons
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a/n: i have been having major yuta brainrot as of late ,, here u guys go ! i hope these are too badly ooc seeing as though I’ve only written for him a couple times ! they’re a bit all over the place so plz lmk what y’all think :3
wordcount: 1,183
masterlist
first things first this boy is an absolute nervous wreck anytime he’s around you before he asks you out, I’m talking stuttering and fumbling over his words, looking anywhere but you, trying his best to not embarrass himself (he inevitably does poor guy)
asks you out when it’s just the two of you, on a picnic or watching a movie, his palms are sweaty because what if he just hallucinated you saying you liked him back and this is a big mistake??
okok this boy would definitely wear those ‘i love my s/o’ shirts, starts off as a joke, then wears it unironically because yeah, he does love you, what about it??
the biggest simp in the world yall, does anything you want him to, buys you whatever you want whenever you want it, you tell him jump he’s asking how high while already jumping
it’s a serious problem, considering you now have to make it clear that just because you say something is nice doesn’t mean you want it
“this sweater is nice right yuu?” “yeah it is really nice” ,,,, “yuta why do you have two bags?” “i got you the sweater in every color you like :3”
you’re always getting packages at your door, handing them to him only for him to say ‘oh that’s actually for you!’
the worst part of this is he absolutely hates when you get him something, always telling you to spend your money on yourself or save it, saying he has everything he needs already
still accepts your gifts with open arms, over the moon because ‘you really thought of me ?? i love you :(‘ he literally is ‘🥺’ if it was a person
calls you every sweet nickname he can think of: baby, babe, sweetheart, darling, my love, honey (he tends to favor my love and darling)
you tend to call him things like: baby, lover, pretty boy, angel
he turns into an absolute blushing mess when you call him pretty boy and angel, giggling and trying to not forget what he was talking to you about in the first place
the kind of boyfriend who will buy you flowers weekly, no matter what.
ever since he overheard you on the phone talking about how much you loved his ‘just because’ flowers, he made it a reoccurring purchase at a local flower shop
gets you all your favorite snacks when he just so happens to stop by at a convenience store, handing them to you with a happy grin, ‘we can have movie night with snacks now!’
has your coffee order memorized before you guys even started dating, rarely asks if you want some, usually just surprises you with it <3
he is such a homebody boyfriend :( prefers calm and cozy nights in sipping on hot chocolate cuddles in warm blankets over going out
takes you out to nice restaurants though !! especially if you like going out, he’ll take you on all kinds of dates
goes ice skating, amusement parks, the fair, laser tag (you destroyed him), escape rooms, literally everything
at restaurants if you’re between two things to order he’ll get one of the ones you want so you get try both :3
if you don’t like what you ordered he’ll swap with you / will tell you to order something different, saying he’ll take the other plate home and eat it tomorrow so you don’t feel bad abt it <3
LOVES going grocery shopping with you </3 finds it so domestic and lovely to be able to pick you celery with you (he also gets excited when you ask him what he wants to eat so you can get the stuff for it)
he’ll always tell you he wants to bake cookies and other treats with you, grabbing all the ingredients and grinning at you sheepishly when the cart starts to get full
“we came here for four things, how did you manage to make me get all these things” “cause you love me” he giggles
giggles at everything you say !!!!! topples over laughing when you tell a joke (we get it bro you love us 😭)
it’s so easy to make him blush and flustered, literally just winking at him makes his brain short circuit (let’s not get started on when you two make out) (he whimpers 🤭)
has pictures of you as his lockscreen, always smiles a bit when he unlocks his phone, when he’s away on missions he finds himself checking the time more often than he really needs to
AMAZING TEXTER !!!!! will reply to you very quickly and address all your messages and reacts to all the things you send him (everyone is amazed because is this the same yuta who left them on deliver red for three days before replying ??)
he is SO the jealous type ,, he tries not to be, really he hates having negative emotions of any kind, but he can’t help it :(
his entire demeanor changed drastically when someone starts flirting with you, he’s standing up straighter, clenching his jaw and has that threatening look on his face, no sign of the once cheerful and bubbly boy
he’s wrapping an arm around you, tugging on your hand and trying to get you alone so he can make out with you and remind both you and himself that you’re only his <33
insanely protective of you !!! he’ll be holding your hand in public, always making sure he knows where you are, in crowded areas he has one hand on your waist to help you through the crowds <33
will obliterate anyone who even tries to threaten you, ‘look at them again and you’ll be wishing i had killed you’ but in a not creepy and actually very 🦋way yk ?
really listens to you and everything you have to say, asking questions about your interests and genuinely loves listening to you talk about the things you like <3
i know he gets u literally everything but he gives you amazing and thoughtful gifts for special occasions !! he manages to always get you perfect gifts every single time <3
he compliments you everyday without fail, no matter where he is in the world, he will ALWAYS tell you how stunning you look !!!
reminds you everyday how much he loves you, telling you and leaving you little notes, writes you love letters like he’s away at war even though he’s most likely to get back before the letter even ships
cooks you dinner when he has the chance (he’s actually a pretty good cook!!) going all the way with wine (if you drink of course) and roses
uses your shampoo and conditioner sometimes because he just loves the way they smell and they remind him so much of u hehe
has your skincare routine memorized to when you’re too exhausted to do it he can do it for you <3
he’s overall just a soft and sweet lover, doing anything and everything he can for you because he knows you’re the one for him <33
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags
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kooktrash · 8 months
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a little thing called jealousy | jeon jungkook drabble
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ugh okay I’m sorry I tried making it a bit more of an argument but I just can’t give this couple angst 😭
anyway, 2.9k straight fluff. a little bit of jealous Koo and they’re both clingy af
READ STORY HERE
Jungkook will be the first to admit that this was really all his doing. His homebody girlfriend would have preferred to stay in tonight and he would’ve loved to join you but this was Hoseok. Your shared friend Hoseok was having people over and he begged and begged Jungkook to get you to come out. He wanted to have a fun night with his girlfriend too so of course he was going to beg you to come out, right?
Well… apparently he’s an idiot.
You’re having fun alright, you’ve been drinking a bit and he’s happily taken the liberty of being sober tonight so he could still drive home but unfortunately for him that meant he was very aware of the things happening around him. For instance, you talking to some guy who you apparently knew. Jungkook is not the jealous type, he’s never been because he’s never had a reason to be. It’s been known for a while now that he could get a girl if he wanted to and you’ve been the only one in his life to make him really work for it and for that he’s thankful. You helped him be able to fully explore what he felt toward you until it was all he could think about and now he’s obsessed with you. He’s not the jealous type…
“Where’s Y/n?” Sungha asked coming over to him after watching him sulk on Hobi’s couch like there weren’t at least thirty people around him getting drunk. Jungkook shrugged, “She’s talking to someone.”
“Who?” Sungha asked, looking around with a smile on her face, “Oh! That’s Jisoo, wow, I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
Jungkook turned his attention to her, “Wait, you know him too? Who is he?”
“Uh,” Sungha thought for a moment, “He’s Y/n’s ex but It’s been years since we last saw him. Last I heard he moved to Tokyo for some time, he must’ve just gotten back.”
“Y/n’s ex?” Jungkook asked looking back to you and you felt his stare, turning to him and giving him a soft smile that made Jisoo look at him too, “I thought all her ex boyfriends were shitty.”
“All but Jisoo,” Sungha shrugged, not noticing the way Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously and his lip caught between his teeth, “But it was so long ago and we were all young so it makes sense that there’s no hard feelings there.”
“I’ll be back,” Jungkook said in a rush as he hopped off the couch and practically ran over to where you were.
Your breath hitched as firm arms wrapped around your waist pulling you flush against their back and for a second you couldn’t think of who it was. You’ve been drinking all night and when you get like that you tend to just talk and talk and forget everything else. It wasn’t until you felt Jungkook place small kisses along your neck that you smiled, “Hey.”
“Hey,” Jungkook whispered into your eye as he kissed you one last time before looking at Jisoo, “I’ve been waiting for you to remember I was here too.”
Your brows seemed to furrow in confusion. You’ve only been away from him for at most five minutes. You had seen Jisoo from across Hobi’s apartment and you wanted to see how he was doing. You dated when you were 17 and it was so long ago and now you were both adults so clearly there were things to catch up on. It had been a mutual break up and since you were young it didn’t hold too much meaning so in truth you thought nothing of it.
“Jisoo this is Jungkook,” you introduced them to each other casually, Jungkook was busy kissing your neck lovingly for you to pay attention without squirming. You tried moving his hands off you because he was beginning to squeeze you a bit too much but he wouldn’t let up.
“Her boyfriend,” Jungkook clarified and you could hear the harshness in his tone. You smiled, “Yeah.”
“Good to meet you man,” Jisoo said missing the way Jungkook glared at him and he looked to you, “Alright, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Sungha or Jimin so I’m gonna go find them.”
“Yeah, go do that,” Jungkook said as you finally freed yourself from your boyfriend’s death grip. Jisoo’s brows scrunched together in confusion but he still smiled and waved you both goodbye.
“You having fun?” You asked him, slurring on your words a bit as you felt his hand go back to you waist not letting you get far from him without holding onto you. He shook his head no, “You ditched me.”
You laughed softly, still not processing how he was feeling in your drunken state, “I was just talking to Jisoo. I haven’t seen him in year—“
“Yeah and he’s your ex boyfriend that you ditched your current boyfriend to see,” Jungkook said following you down the hall toward the bathroom, stepping on the back of your shoe on accident.
You shook your head, “Yeah sorry, we ended up talking about his work so…”
You cut yourself off when you felt him step on your shoe once again but this time your foot actually lifted and it kind of hurt. “Ow!”
“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbled, “Can I go with you?”
“Where?” You asked before it dawned on you, “To the bathroom?” He nodded his head eagerly and you released a sigh, “Sure.”
You let him in and as you tried using the bathroom Jungkook distracted himself by rummaging through Hobi’s things. You hurried up to finish and you practically had to push him to the side to get to the sink. When you left, he was right there trying to hug you like you weren’t trying to walk and it was beginning to be a bit much. You were a little drunk and when you drink you tend to get hot and with him trying to hold you and step on you, you were starting to get a little annoyed. What was his deal?
He followed you into Hobi’s kitchen where you left in search of something to drink other than alcohol. Jungkook wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you into him before you could even grab a drink, “Can we leave yet?”
“We just got here not that long ago,” you told him, feeling him begin to kiss along your neck again.
“Yeah but you’ve been ignoring me all night and I just want to lay in bed with my girlfriend an—“
“Jungkook!” You groaned when he accidentally pushed you too close to the counter in an attempt to follow you even if you didn’t move and made you hit your hip against the corner, “Ow!”
“Sorry,” he rushed out to say, hand down on your hip to try and soothe the pain but you were annoyed and drunk and hot.
You released a huff in annoyance, “Jeez, you’ve stepped on me and now you made me hit the counter, can you give me some space?”
“Y/n—“
“No, I’m starting to get annoyed,” you said pushing past him, “And I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve been with you all night, I only left for like five minutes so stop being so clingy.”
Jungkook’s jaw couldn’t help but tense up at that as he looked down at you. You really did look annoyed and typically Jungkook would apologize and do what you asked but he felt annoyed too. How was he supposed to feel when you left him to talk to your ex boyfriend, “Fine, go do whatever you want then, I’ll be waiting in the car.”
Before you could say anything you watched him storm off angrily and just before you could get to him, Sungha and Jimin were calling you over. You walked over to them reluctantly, “Hey.”
“Hey, where’s Kook?” Jimin asked offering you another drink but you refused it. “I don’t know… he went to the car?”
“Why?”
“I think he’s ready to go, I’ll probably just say goodbye to Hobi and Jisoo and leave too,” you told them apologetically, “He’s acting weird, and I got a little mad at him.”
“Y/n… what happened?” Sungha asked making you shrug.
“I don’t know, he was fine earlier and then when I was talking to Jisoo he just came over and got super clingy and…” you paused in thought, “Oh…”
Sungha’s smile dropped, “Oops, that might’ve been my fault. I told him about Jisoo being your ex and he got up a little upset.”
“Sungha!” Jimin yelled, “They dated for a month when they were seventeen! Why would you tell him that?”
“I don’t know!” Sungha panicked, “I didn’t think it was a big deal. Jungkook never gets jealous!”
You released a huff, feeling exhausted and a little more sober now, “Alright, I’m gonna go talk to him, bye.”
You practically ran out to Jungkook’s car and when you found him inside he was slumped over his phone, pout evident on his face.
“Ready?” You asked him shyly, wondering how you could talk about it and if he really was upset. He didn’t give you a verbal response, only nodded his head as he started the car.
You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I think I drank too much.”
Jungkook didn’t respond once again as he drove quietly, not even music playing and you felt the need to keep going, “Thank you for getting me to come out tonight. Next time I’ll drive and you can get drunk, alright?”
Jungkook just nodded as he drove. His feelings were very obviously hurt. He didn’t mean to step on you or making you hit the counter but he was anxious. The second he learned Jisoo was your ex he felt his anxiety shoot up and he just needed a little reassurance from you.
It’s just… it took him so long to get you to even think about him romantically. He put in so much work for the two of you to be where you are and he genuinely thinks he’s in love with you. He can’t help but feel hurt knowing your ex can come out of nowhere and have all your attention right away and if you’re still on good terms then who's to say there’s not still lingering feelings there? He doesn’t want to lose you when he just got you.
Tonight Jungkook was staying over at your place even if he was a little mad at how you yelled at him when he just wanted to be with you. Even mad he wanted to spend the night with you so obviously he was going to follow you.
“Koo,” you said softly as you followed him up to your own apartment. Jungkook waited quietly for you to unlock the door and you had to repeat yourself, “Are you hungry? Should I put a pizza in the oven?”
“If you want,” Jungkook shrugged as he threw himself on your couch sullenly. You released a small sigh, “Do you want water?”
“Sure.”
He didn’t mean to brush you off but he really was upset. Maybe he’s overthinking it but it really was hard to get you to like him back and he’s just worried… he doesn’t want you to realize that you could probably do better than him.
“Jungkook,” you used his full name now as you set the glass down on the coffee table and made him sit up. Without thinking you planted yourself on his neck but he couldn’t even look at you, “Hey.”
“Hm?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“A little,” he admitted, not wanting to bottle this feeling up, “I didn’t mean to be too clingy but you yelled at me in front of everyone and… and you didn’t even introduce me to your ex as your boyfriend. It’s like you didn’t want him to know.”
You shook your head sadly, “No, it’s not like tha—“
“Then what is it, Y/n? You ditch me to talk to your ex boyfriend then get mad at me for wanting to be with you?” Jungkook felt a bit annoyed now, “Sometimes I still feel like I’m just a bother to you and you just can’t wait to get rid of me.”
“What?” You looked genuinely taken back as you turned to straddle his lap, his hands absentmindedly finding your waist even if he was mad, “No, baby, it’s not like that. I love being with you, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap on you. I know you didn’t mean it, and I’m sorry for ditching you but Jisoo and I…”
Jisoo and I? Great… Jungkook thought, he felt his anxiety spike up and couldn’t help but move you off his lap, too distracted with you so close. You released a small sigh, “I mean, we only dated for a month. It was nothing serious, we tried to see where it would go but we were 17 and better off as friends. Him and I never meant anything.”
Jungkook was up, trying to find a way to distance himself so you wouldn’t see how hurt he was. Maybe he was being dramatic but what if now that you’re adults you want to try it again with Jisoo? What will happen to him if you do?
“Jungkook…” you whined as you hopped off the couch, surprising him by wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind, “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there, I’m sorry.”
Jungkook took a deep breath, feeling his anger slowly dissipate but he needed to stay strong. You yelled at him and you were mean, it wasn’t fair.
He tried to talk but you only clung to him harder, “Kooky, look at me please.”
He took a deep breath, hand going over yours as you hugged him, “I’m upset.”
“I know,” you told him honestly as you moved to hug his front, feeling his arms slowly come up to your waist, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you thinking I want to be with anyone but you. I’m serious, I feel really bad.”
Jungkook huffed in defeat as his hand came up to the back of your head, “Are you going to yell at me like that again?”
“No!” You said feeling hopeful, looking up at him like he was the moon and stars, “I mean it. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”
“Mm,” he released a sigh as he thought about it, “Was I really being too much?”
“No! No,” you should your head, “No, I get it now. I was ignoring you and you just wanted to be with me but I got mad. No, I love when you get like that, it makes me feel wanted.”
“Of course I want you!” He said suddenly, “Baby, I’ve never felt that way before… I just felt scared that you would realize that you only began dating me because I basically pressured you to and seeing someone you used to have feelings for made you reali—“
“Jungkook, I love you.”
He froze, words getting caught in his throat, “You do?”
You nodded cutely, still hugging him tightly, “Of course I do, you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever met! And you’re so cute and funny and I want to be with you all the time even if I suck at showing it. I’m sorry for making you feel like I would leave you, that’s not right. I want to be with you and only you, nobody else, please don’t be mad at me. I don’t like it.”
Jungkook brushed your hair out of your face as he thought about it for a second, “I’m so in love with you, Y/n. So fucking in love that I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before and I don’t know how to respond to this new jealousy feeling.”
“I’m in love with you,” you repeated and this time around he felt his heart burst into millions of butterflies, “And I’m so sorry.”
“Ugh,” he huffed out, “I can’t be mad at you even if I tried.”
“But it’s okay if you are,” you told him honestly — and cutely that he had to smile — “I don’t blame you for getting mad if I’ve done something to upset you. Don’t feel like you always have to be happy with me and let me have my way.”
“Okay,” he kissed the tip of your nose, “But I love you too much to stay mad.”
“Koo!” You whined, stomping your foot a little as you tried to pull away, “You can’t always be happy with me—“
“I can’t help it,” he whined too, cheeks flushing red at how cute he thought you were, “I was just being dramatic.”
“No, you weren’t, I was in the wron—“ you ended with a small squeal as Jungkook picked you up.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Jungkook finally said, “For now let’s get to bed and let me cuddle you.”
“I’m sorry for earlier,” you said, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, practically clinging to him, “Seriously.”
“I know,” Jungkook smiled, “And if you really want to make it up to me then you can get your cute butt in bed and go to sleep.”
“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” You asked with a small yawn as he made it into your room and set you down gently on your bed. He went ahead and closed the door, shutting you into darkness as he joined you, “No, baby, I love you too much to stay mad.”
“I love you more,” you said and you felt disgusted by your own cheesiness.
He smiled though, loving every second of it, “No, I love you more.”
“Not true.”
“Yes true.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No—“
“Yes! Now go to sleep.”
::.
ugh I just genuinely feel like they can’t stay mad at each other for long
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geeky-politics-46 · 1 year
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Party For Two
Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You and Bucky discuss what he wants to do for his birthday and what he wants as his present.
Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, light dirty talk, pet names, language, creampie, Bucky in his underwear needs a warning all its own
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You could seriously just watch Bucky walk around in his underwear all day and be happy as a clam. You've told him before, and you'd tell him again. That he should just not wear clothes when you two were spending the day at home. 
It didn't matter if he threw on a shirt. Some days, having his arm and his scars completely visible bothered him. Sometimes he had phantom limb pain and needed the arm off completely, prefering to cover his scars as you tried to help with the residual nerve damage in his shoulder and back. 
Shuri did a lot, but she couldn't rewire the mess of his nervous system Hydra had left behind. Despite your assurance that you loved every inch of him, you would never push him to do something he didn't want to do. Some days were harder than others and you made sure he felt safe and loved even on his worst days. So your main rule was just no pants.
A man in his underwear should not turn you into this much of a hot horny mess, especially when you get to see him totally naked regularly. Although Bucky was an incredible specimen of a man.
Even now, you could see his lips moving, but your brain could not process the words he was saying. Not when those tight boxer briefs made his ass look like you could just bite into it. Not to mention how they perfectly cupped his bulge. The way you could just slightly see his cock and balls jiggle as he walked. It felt dirty but still kind of sweet. 
It made you just want to play with his cock. Not necessarily in a hand job sexual way, but just hold it and pet it. Tell him how pretty and perfect his cock was. Gently massage and rub his balls and kiss all over him. He did have the prettiest cock. 
You also loved how much he blushed whenever you told him how pretty his cock was. The old-fashioned boy from the 1940's was still taken aback by such words coming from your pretty little mouth. Even if it was a genuine compliment he still wasn't used to hearing a sweet pretty thing like you talk so openly about liking cock. Especially his. Especially when he wasn't already balls deep inside you.
Bucky agreed to the deal on the condition that you also wore no pants. You were allowed to throw on shorts or pj's on occasion, but only ones Bucky liked. Usually, you just went for an oversized shirt. 
Honestly, the two of you became quite the pair of hermits or homebodies. Your happy place was your apartment. Just the two of you, and Alpine, of course. You had all settled into your little domestic routine quite well. You couldn't help the little contented sigh that left your lips.
It was then that you realized Bucky had stopped talking and was staring back at you, trying not to laugh at your deer in headlights expression. You were caught red-handed, staring at him again. He couldn't be too mad about you not listening if you were gonna look so cute when busted.
"You know I think you have a bigger staring problem than I do, babydoll."
You could feel your cheeks blush as you both dissolved into little giggles. You knew he wasn't mad, but you still apologized anyway once you composed yourself. 
"I'm sorry, Buck. You are just too sexy sometimes for my brain to do anything but stare at you. I kinda like you, ya know." 
You gave him a teasing smirk punctuating your statement. Saying I love you was still new to the two of you, but Bucky would say it over and over the first few days. You couldn't help but tease him about it. All out of your own love for him though, and he knew it.
"Well, if you had been listening, you would know that Sam is inevitably going to try to throw me some sort of birthday party. He's been dropping hints for days, but if he asks please tell him we already have plans. I don't care what, but I really don't want a party." 
Of course, that's right. Sam had been after you about trying to do something for Bucky’s birthday. Sam wanted to go out and do something bigger. You knew all Bucky wanted to do for his birthday was be alone. It was hard for him think about all the birthdays, all the years, he had lost. He wanted to mark the day by enjoying the life he had waited so long for. 
He had waited so long to be at peace. Even though he still had missions to go on and work to do in the field, and in his own head, he felt a stability that he had always dreamed of. He had an apartment. Even if it wasn't the most put together. He had a pet. Alpine the fluffy white feline rescue who has helped him just as much as he helped her. 
Most importantly, he had you. He had an amazing girl that he wanted to settle down with. Create a home with. One day marry and have babies with. Assuming he could. He really didn't know if Hydra had done anything to affect his fertility. He didn't really want to know. For now, the 2 of you and Alpine was enough though.
That was what he wanted to celebrate, and he wanted to celebrate it by staying in with you. Just you, take out, tv or movies. Then, of course he planned to cash in his birthday points on dirty noise-complaint-getting loud sex. Some people may think it sounded boring, other than the sex part maybe, but that was exactly what he loved about it. 
You could see him planning out the evening he really wanted in his mind. He always joked about not wanting anyone else in his head, but he did love that you seemed to be able to read his mind. 
"What if I tell Sam that we are having a party and he just isn't invited? That it's a party just for two. Just you and me. I'll even let you pick dinner." 
He pretended to think about it as he walked over to the side of the couch you were on. Reaching across the arm of the sofa to help you up onto your knees so he could wrap his arms around your waist. Letting yourself slide up his muscular chest and link behind his neck. A mischievous smile curled up on his lips.
"I like the sound of that. I do still want cake though. Are you planning any party games?" 
You nodded at his request. Oh you were planning on cake, ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate syrup. Basically, any sort of dessert that could be enjoyed in both appropriate and inappropriate ways. 
"Well cake is a given of course. I'm sure we can find all sorts of creative ways to enjoy it too. As far as games, I do have a couple things in mind. Tell me how do you feel about naked Twister?"
He grabbed your waist a little tighter and growled a little at the idea of the two of you bent into all sorts of compromising positions. His blood starting to rush to his groin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. 
"You know, I may need a little practice. Why don't we have a little practice party right now? Just so I know what to expect on my birthday." 
You smiled and shook your head at him, he knew you were a sucker for that look he got when he was feeling frisky. The crooked little grin, the way he would bite his lip, and the way his pretty blue eyes would sparkle. It was like your lips were pulled to his by a magnet. Moving closer on their own volition. 
Not that you mind of course. Your thoughts had already been in the gutter from watching Bucky strut around the house in those tight boxer briefs. Now you knew his was there too. The feeling of his bulge hardening against you, confirming that and making you wiggle your hips in anticipation.
He pulled back so his lips were barely touching yours, eliciting a needy little whine from you. You wanted more of him. You always wanted more of him. His hands started to slide down your low back to cup your ass cheeks, bending his knees a little so he could get a firm hold on you. 
"Mmm, can smell you, babydoll. You smell so good. Know you taste even better though. Taste even sweeter than that birthday cake will. I want a taste, baby girl."
He almost effortlessly scooped you up off the couch, your legs quickly swinging to wrap around his waist. Alpine had abandoned the couch to go hide under the table the minute you two started getting lovey. So without fear of stepping on her tail he practically sprinted to your shared bedroom, plopping you down unceremoniously onto the bed before lunging so he was on top of you. 
His lips hurried back to connect with yours in a frenzy of playful, passion filled kisses. Letting your hands wander up and down each others bodies, rubbing and touching any bit you could grab. Slowly working to get your hand down to rub over his cock. Straining against the soft fabric of his underwear. Still getting harder as you massaged him. 
You pulled your lips away from his so you could admire his cock in your hand. Even though it was still hidden behind the dark fabric, you couldn't help the way you licked your lips and moaned at the sight. He was just so perfect and thick. You knew the serum hadn't changed his height and size near as dramatically as Steve, but it did effect his muscle mass. You had a little bit of a hope that it had made his cock this thick. Otherwise those girls in the 40's wouldn't have survived.
"Starting to think you might be a little obsessed with my cock, babydoll." 
He teased you as he started kissing and sucking at your neck. Letting you enjoy your view as he let his hips occasionally roll and rut into your hand. You hummed in agreement as he began teasing his vibranium hand up and under your shirt. 
"Can't help it, baby. It's just so fucking perfect and big. Fills me up so good. So much better than any of my toys. Plus I kinda love the man it's attached to." 
He nuzzled his face into your neck before you felt him grin against your skin. He whispered an "I love you too baby…". Suddenly moving quickly and knocking your balance out from you as he in one smooth move threw off the shirt you were wearing and rushing to get your panties off just as fast. Leaving you suddenly naked underneath him. 
"... I'm also kind of obsessed with this pretty pussy. So I guess we're even." 
His body dropping to the bed and your legs thrown over his shoulders as he descended on you. Wet kisses along the crease of your inner thigh, just shy of where you desperately wanted his lips. Jumping to the other side and letting his warm breath dance across your dripping sex.
You could feel his bright blue eyes on you as he placed his first long lick up your slit. Making sure to cover every inch from your tight light hole up to your clit. Stopping to place several small kisses and kitten licks on the bundle of nerves. Hearing your breath already starting to falter.
Bucky loved eating you out. It wasn't something he remembered doing more than maybe once or twice before you, and he can't remember enjoying it nearly as much back then as he did now. Maybe he was more selfish back then. Maybe those women had just been less secure and open about what felt good. Women being so vocal about enjoying sex was pretty taboo in his day, but the way you reacted to his mouth on you made him obsessed. 
Each time you moaned as swirled his tongue around your clit. Each time you would grind against his face as he thrust his tongue inside you. Each time you would pull his hair as rubbed his whole face farther into your wet cunt. It all made him want to spend the rest of his life wirh his head between your thighs. Not even caring that he usually ended up so worked up he would start humping the mattress underneath him in an unconscious effort by his cock to get some sort of attention. 
He didn't even want to stop after he heard you whine and moan his name when you came. Why would he stop when he had the opportunity to lick up even more of your sweet nectar from your orgasm? No, he only stopped when he had his fill of  feasting on your cunt and your cum. Leaving you teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 
"Definitely my favorite treat. Hell fuck the cake, I just want your pussy as my birthday treat. What you think, doll? Can I have your pretty slutty little cunt as my birthday present? Can I eat it and play with it and fuck it whenever and however I want?" 
By now he started working his way back up your body as you clung to sheets arching into his mouth as he moved. Pressing your breasts against his face as he reached your chest. Greedily encouraging him to take one of your nipples into his mouth as his metal fingers pinched at the other. The contrast of his warm mouth and the cool vibranium making your skin prickle into goosebumps. 
After switching sides, making sure to give both perky pebbled nipples the attention they deserved, he made it back up to your lips. Kissing you once before nipping at your lower lip playfully. 
You had already wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull his pelvis to yours. Your fingers now tangled and tugging at the fabric of his boxer briefs trying to get them down. Desperately trying to get his cock free so you could feel him against your still soaked and needy cunt. 
"I'm waiting for an answer baby, tell me and then I'll take these off. Fuck you nice and hard. Can I have your perfect tight little hole as my birthday present? I want to spend my party making you scream and cum all over my cock." 
The sound of his filthy birthday wish pulled a deep groan from your chest. You wanted to spend his party doing that too, and what the birthday boy wants the birthday boy gets. You let your body go lax so he would be able to easily position you however he wanted you as you answered. 
"Yes, Bucky, holy fuck yes! My pussy is all yours, birthday boy. Use it however you want, James. All for you." 
"That's my good girl." 
He got back up on his knees and shimmied his underwear down and kicking them off. You eyes glued to his cock before it even sprung free from the fabric. A whimper falling from your mouth when a dribble of pre-cum dripped from his swollen flushed cockhead onto your low belly. A string of fluid running from his cock and starting to make a mess on you. He knew by the look in your eyes that he had you in the palm of his hand. So you promptly obliged when he told you what he wanted next. 
"Spread your legs farther, babydoll. Pull them back and hold onto your ankles for me. I want to see every little bit of my present." 
Quickly you worked to fold yourself in half as best as you could. Opening you up even more to Bucky’s gaze. His eyes raking over your body as be stroked his length a few times. Stopping only when you started to wiggle your hips, trying to urge him to touch you.
"Impatient, aren't you baby?" 
His tongue darting out to lick his lips, still swollen for having his face buried in your pussy, before a faux pout crossed his face. Cooing lightly at you as he started slapping his cock on your sensitive cunt. 
"God you look so fucking good when you get all needy for my cock baby. Saw you get that look in your eyes earlier. Knew that smart little brain had stopped thinking of everything but my cock. It's all yours baby." 
He placed his tip at your entrance and slowly started to push his hips forward. Sliding himself into you one inch at a time. Letting you feel every little bit of stretch he gave you. The feeling making you both moan in pleasure. Stilling in place once he had bottomed out inside you. 
"Fuck darlin', that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Look so beautiful getting fucked with my bare cock baby."
You gave him a seductive look and bit your lip. 
"Happy early birthday baby." 
With that, he gingerly drug his hands from the backs of your heels all the way down to the backs of your thighs. Gripping onto the flesh there and bracing you for his next move. Bucky slowly started to pull his hips back and started building speed with his first thrust back in. 
A feral look in his eyes as he watched where his cock was impaling you. Hypnotized by the sight. The image of your pussy stretched tight around his cock. The way his cock shined, wet with your arousal. It tipped him over the edge when he started hearing the wet squelch of your pussy as he thrust into you spurring him on to fuck you harder. 
The headboard starting to thump against the wall under the force of Bucky’s thrusts. A litany of swears falling from both of you. Your moans and squeaks as he pounded you accented by the sound of his full balls slapping against your ass. Each of you getting closer to climax with each sound the other made.
When he could feel his balls starting to tighten and he knew he was close to blowing, he let his flesh hand dip to rub at your clit. Smearing your wetness around to make his action smoother.  
After a moment of him touching your clit he found the perfect speed and spot. Feeling the fire start burning in your belly you let your eyes roll back in your head. 
"Oh fuck Bucky, right there! Don't stop, baby please don't stop!" 
His hips only sped up even more at your reaction. 
"Oh don't worry, dollface. I'm not stopping until I make a mess in my birthday present. You want that babydoll? You want to cum in you pretty girl? Let me hear it baby." 
Few things could throw you over the edge quite like Bucky when he talked dirty. It fueled that fire in your belly and sent it boiling over. As you came undone on his cock you practically cried for him to cum inside you. Your pussy squeezing and fluttering around his cock, practically milking him.
"James!!! Cum in me please, fuck I'm cumming for you baby. God you make me cum so good. It's your pussy daddy. Fuck it and fill it please, please!" 
By the time you had finished cumming, you felt his cock start to throb as he climaxed. Your body still jerking from your own orgasm with each stream of cum you felt him shoot into you until you were nearly overflowing. 
After a few minutes of basking in each other's afterglow, Bucky eventually pulled out of you with a groan and rolled over. Promptly grabbing you up in his arms again and pulling you over to cuddle. Pressing kisses into your hair as you drew little patterns on his chest. 
"If this is what I can expect for my birthday party, then happy birthday to me indeed." 
You gave him a wicked grin as you looked up at him. 
"Oh no, Buck, this was just practice. Remember? Your actual birthday party is going to be even more fun."
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periprose · 8 months
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Fly Away
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Michael Berzatto x Reader
You're a family friend of the Berzattos and you're invited to have fun at their annual Christmas dinner. You think you still harbor feelings for Carmy, but as the evening progresses, you feel something for his brother.
Genre: friends to lovers, former crush on carm, really everything w carm is mostly platonic, unrequited stuff, insecurities, age gaps (reader and carm are 25, Michael is 38), takes place in 2017, takes place in S2E6, lots of angst, anxiety, some fluff, no use of y/n (you have a nickname: Birdie)
Word count: 11k
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There’s a bauble and trinket everywhere you look. Festive, Christmas spirit seems to ebb from the very walls of the Berzatto household– and you would be remiss not to compliment it vocally in some way.
Donna is clearly waiting, teetering on a response from you as you take everything in from the front door. And you know how she reacts if you don’t say things in that perfect, supportive tone that she so desperately thrives off of.
“Wow, Mrs. Berzatto!” You clasp your hands, trying not to seem too cloying or ironic. “I love what you’ve done with the house. Such an eye for details.”
“Oh, stop.” She giggles, and lightly taps your shoulder as she takes your coat and hangs it up in the closet. 
“No, really. I wish my house was so… Christmassy this time of year.” You shrug, knowing that your dad isn’t the festive type after divorcing your mother.
“Aw. Well, we have love to spread here.” It’s a strange unseen sympathy coming from Donna, and she pulls you inside, and you take off your shoes, shuffling around in your socks and your comfy, hopefully chic, green loose turtleneck sweater. “Except you might have to wait a bit, because some of these fuckers are late.”
There’s that bitter tone you remember from Donna. You don’t really care for that– you tend to have an avoidant personality especially with how your own mother acts sometimes– and she yells out for Carmy and Mikey to greet you.
“Boys! Birdie’s here!” She calls from the stairs, and you suddenly feel self conscious.
Ever since your dad, a former co-worker and friend of Cicero’s, starting taking you as a teenager to these Berzatto hangouts, you have always had a eye for Carmen. It was hard not to be, seeing this bashful, slightly angry, awkward boy, around the same age as you, with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. You felt like sometimes, he really, really listened to you, and that was all you needed.
You wish you could be there for him too. 
It’s something you’ve never acted on, never bothered to actually approach him about– he always seemed so absorbed by his own thing.
You relished in the fact that he never had a girlfriend. You felt secure in that, because he just seemed safe. And it’s not like he would’ve been mean about rejecting you if he knew– you were always close to the Berzatto siblings. You were Bear and Birdie, ready to head out on a walk together, while the adults gossiped and drank.
Of course, you haven’t seen him in about… two years now. Around after he left to his apartment, and did his chef-education-training (you’re a bit vague on the details, honestly), and ever since then, as far as you know he’s slowly been doing what he loves. He does text you from time to time, but you’d be overstating those texts’ importance if you pretended it really quantified a relationship.
Mikey clambers down the stairs, wearing what looks to be pajamas, or very chill homebody clothes, and he raises his arm in a big, Italian gesture.
“Oh! Is that little Bird I see?” He exclaims, and pulls you into an eager hug. Maybe a little too eager– you think it’s almost as if you’re comforting him as you hug him back, his face coming down onto your shoulder, as he encapsulates you– and he pulls away, grinning.
He actually looks really good. You don’t know when you started thinking that Mikey was good looking, but it’s true– he has a certain, rough around the edges appeal that you find yourself drawn to.
“Merry Christmas. You’ve been keeping away from us.” Mikey points as you, intended as a stern remark, but you snort.
“Yeah, Merry Christmas. I’ve been busy with work and law school, Michael. I’m not a kid anymore.” You resist the urge to comment on his beard, and then do it anyways. “Are you sure I’ve been keeping away? You’re the one with a hermit-ass beard.”
“Oh… they grow up and just start taking shots at you, don’t they, Ma?” Mikey places his hand over his heart, as if he’s wounded, and Donna shakes her head in agreement, before heading back to the kitchen, already seeming annoyed about something. “Beards are fashionable in 2017, Bird. Maybe come back to our current time– no reason for you to start dressing like a grandma already.”
You scoff at that, pointing at your sweater. “It’s semi-formal, c’mon! It looks nice. Respect the gathering’s rules.”
“It’s my house, babe.” Mikey leans in with maybe a little too much comfort, his eyes shining with some warmth, mirth even, and you don’t exactly pull away– the guy is like thirteen years older than you, and even if he does kid around, play up an older brother thing, you’ve started feeling like he’s restraining something more as of late, maybe some primal level of attraction that he knows better than to mess around with. You know that the feeling is kind of mutual– but you really don’t know how to quantify it. “I’m man of the house, and I say you should wear something that maybe, uh, shows off the pretty twenty-five year old that you are.”
The last part of this sentence has you swallowing a little, and you feel your face turning warm, and Mikey himself looks embarrassed that he’s said it, that he’s given a bit of evidence to your theories– he seems to brush something off, inside himself. 
You have never thought you were all that. You’ve always been pretty sure you should be glad that you’ve gotten by without having to worry about your looks. The idea of wearing a nice, somewhat revealing dress to the Berzattos’ house has you cringing, because you know it would just be… bad. 
“I’m not–” Mikey scowls at himself and you can visibly see himself fighting something, looking a little anxious, and you tentatively grasp his forearm.
“I know what you mean. I’m not offended.” You smile slightly, making the effort to calm him down a little, because you would never want Michael to beat himself up over you (he really seems to do that as of late and you know you’re not worth the trouble), and he nods and inhales. “You look good, too.”
“Right. Right on, Birdie. You can do what you want, anyways. Not up to me.” He seems to really dial back some of what he said, and before you can respond, Carmy walks downstairs.
“Hi. Hey, Birdie. Merry Christmas.” He says, kind of quietly, and you find yourself somewhat happy to hear him say your nickname again. Carmy looks especially nice– deep blue has always been his colour, it brightens up his eyes– and he has slightly longer hair than you remember. 
He leans in for a brief but firm hug, and glances at your eyes once, before looking towards the floor again.
Mikey nods and proceeds to exit to the kitchen, and you’re left with Carmy grappling with what to say.
“How have you–”
“How’s law sch–”
Carmy coughs awkwardly, and you find your face turning warm as he looks towards you.
“Sorry, Bear.” You let him speak, hoping not to scare him away. “How’s everything? You okay?”
“Yeah. Uh… well, I’ve been training at Copenhagen?” He furrows his brows, runs his hand through his hair. “Just learning as much as I can.”
“Oh. Uh-huh.” Your curiosity is piqued– you didn’t know he was in Denmark, much to your disappointment– but you want to pry more of an answer out of him. He doesn’t seem interested in talking about it more than that. 
“Sorry. Sorry. Stupid answer, there’s just not much to say.” Carmy shrugs, and then realizes suddenly that you’ve been standing at the foyer of the house for quite some time now, which isn’t very polite or inviting of him. “Wait, hold on. Let’s go sit inside and talk.”
Carmy makes some offhand comment about how you need to speak up sometimes and stop being so nice and accommodating to idiots like him, and you snicker, knowing that this is the Carmy you remember– snarky, ready to fight people on sometimes, even if he is a little weird and bashful. Although he’s short– he makes up for it with his resilience.
Carmy leads you through golden-lit hallways, a certain pepperminty, pine tree scent seeming to overlay the entire house, and there’s bushels and wreathes and mistletoe everywhere, and somehow even more baubles, ornaments, trinkets, knickknacks, all gold and red and warm tones that do make you feel a little fuzzy.
Carmy sits you down in the living room, on the sofa, and you’re next to him, and you place a foot under your knee, trying to feel casual. Not freaking out about him sitting right next to you. Weirdly enough… you don’t think you feel anything anxiety inducing. 
Perhaps you’re just getting more reassured of yourself with age. 
“So? How is Copenhagen, otherwise? I know Denmark is really interesting, but you’re probably busy with chef stuff, huh?” You prod just a little further. Just out of your own personal curiosity to see how far Carmy will go for you, and he nods. “Any friends?”
“Ah…” Carmy winces a little. “Can’t say if he’s a friend yet, but there is this guy that’s out of this world with pastries. I don’t know if I can meet his standard on that.”
“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. “Bear, you make my dad cookies all the time. Or, well, you used to. You can’t be that bad at it, considering that he always eats all of them.”
“Oh, really? Fuck, man.” Carmy looks at you in disbelief, settling more into his corner of the couch, closer to the tree, but looking more openly at you. You feel yourself cower a little under his watchful gaze. “I didn’t know your dad enjoyed them that much… I would’ve made more. Did you ever try them?”
“Hm?” You were getting lost in the details around Carmy– the dark blue shirt, the little bits of stubble around his jaw, the tattoos peeping out from under his long sleeves– and you nod. “Ah, I tried a batch around the last time you gave him some. I think it was… macadamia, matcha, white chocolate? Really good.”
Carmy is unreadable, his eyes flickering from the ground to your eyes– you think maybe you’ve embarrassed him a little– but he thanks you. “Where is your dad, anyways?”
“Ah. He’s got the flu, and he was kind enough to not want to infect you guys.” You admit. “Even though he was trying his best to walk over here from our house.”
Carmy remembers that you live in the neighbourhood over. You two used to hang out a lot during elementary and high school. He kind of missed you– something he’d never say out loud, but Carmy knows friends are few with him, and you were always a good friend to him growing up. You were always a comforting presence for him– you never asked him for too much, and he could tell you were being careful to do so. No pressure.
You just became really busy with law school, and he became really busy with chef stuff, and now you’re both… you both just lost touch. He feels bad about it– bad like he always does, with former friends and acquaintances from high school that he’s accidentally ghosted and lost– but at least you don’t seem to be annoyed about it. 
He thinks it’s probably because in this case, you pulled away just as much as he had to.
“How’s law school, anyways?” Carmy counts the years in his head. “You’ve either just finished or you’re in your final year?”
“I’m in my final year.” You stretch out your arms, looking eager. “It’s a lot of work– I’m only here because I’m lucky enough to have a bit of a break in the winter months, and I’m ahead on my courses. But, uh… I don’t know. It’s fun.”
“Fun? Wow.” Carmy grins a little. 
“What?”
“I don’t know, Birdie. Fun is more… fucking, I don’t know, fireworks or something? Drugs, maybe, yeah.” Carmy watches as you laugh, and laugh, at what he’s said, and again he’s never really sure what’s so funny about what he’s said, but he likes to hear you laugh.
“Clearly you don’t know either.” You snort, and lightly punch his arm. “When did we become workaholics?”
“Probably when we became, uh, adults and entered the workforce.” Carmy states, and you wrinkle your brows.
“We’re not really in the workforce yet, but–”
“What, really? C’mon. You’re a fucking receptionist or some shit, right?”
“Business administration specialist.”
“Yeah, there you go. That’s work, especially with all the school you have to do.” Carmy shrugs. “But what do you really want to be, then?”
“Oh, we getting into dreams, then?” You cock an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t think you cared that much, Bear.”
Carmy, for some reason he can’t detect, turns a little red. “No, of course I do. We’re still friends, right?”
“Acquaintances.”
“For real?” Carmy looks back at you, affronted, but you have a little smile and he knows you’re teasing. “Oh fuck you. Stop it.”
“Sorry, sorry.” You shake your head, giggling a little, glad to have so easily fallen back into a comfortable, friendly banter. “Of course we’re friends, it’s just that… I always thought very highly of you, Carmen, and I can’t always be sure that feeling was returned. You know? I assumed that you’d be out doing sophisticated cooking in big, upscale restaurants, and the rest of us would just be reading about it. Forgive me for feeling a little behind it all.”
“No, no, no. You got it all wrong, Birdie.” Carmy half-laughs at how you put him on such a pedestal. “You were always the one doing real work, as Mom would call it. You’re the one who’s actually smart and good at arguing, debating– that’s a real skill coming from me, because I just yell fuck at everyone and hope it works. I always thought you were the impressive one out of all of us.”
You snicker, but you’re actually quite pleased with that, and you feel your heart warm at his praise. “Ah, that’s so sweet. Thank you. If it makes you feel better, I’ve been surviving off of ramen and convenience store food for the last month. I can hardly make the time to cook efficiently.”
“...” Carmy shakes his head. “That doesn’t make me feel better. You’re gonna eat good food today then, I hope.”
Almost as if on cue, Donna calls for Carmy to come help her with something– and you’re left sitting as he tells you that he’s going to hear about your dream job when he gets back.
/
Fifteen minutes later– Carmy is still MIA, and you’re starting to get a little hungry. 
You know it’s rude, but luckily Michael comes by and asks if you want a snack.
“Yeah, how’d you know?” You ask, and Michael snickers.
“You’re the same girl that can eat a whole number four combo at the Beef. I’m pretty sure you were hungry before you got here.” Michael jokes, and you blush in embarrassment.
“Oh my god, stop it.” You shake your head. “Anyways, yeah. A snack would be nice.”
Michael gives you a wink that strangely has you a little twitterpated, before you shake that off. He comes back a few minutes later, chewing on something himself– and he hands you a bowl full of Italian sausage stirfry.
“Thanks, Michael.” You smile up at him, and he nods, trying not to smile too much back at your gratitude, but he likes how you take a bite and look super relieved, happy with the food. He’s always loved giving food to people– taking care of them. Especially you, for some reason.
Michael heads back to the kitchen, and Natalie comes by and takes his place.
“Birdie!” She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, equally happy. “Oh my gosh, if I knew you were down here I would’ve come by ages ago!”
“Aw.” You beam at her. “That’s okay, Nat. I’m happy to see you too.”
She’s off ranting about how Pete, her husband, is late, and how she can barely manage everything going on, and you’re sympathetic. You know Nat gets more of a harsh treatment from Donna, and you tell her that you’re there if she needs a person on her side.
“Oh, Birdie. I couldn’t do that to you. Even if you are amazing at talking, Miss Lawyer-to-be.” She lets you continue to sit down in your corner of the living room, as she heads off to check on her mom– maybe pour out some alcohol.
 Carmy comes back in, slightly powdered with flour on his forehead– and he sits back down, sighing, as he drinks a glass of water.
There’s the slightest air of awkward tension still– even if you and Carmy have fallen back into your old ways, he still keeps a slight distance, one that he’s grown into, and you feel that you have to break the silence. You don’t know if he’s just tired or if there’s some level of irritation of having to deal with all the holiday bullshit, but you take a guess it has to do with Donna.
“That bad?” You grimace, and Carmy matches your expression.
“That bad.” He shakes his head. “She always gets a little woo-woo around these fucking events. Like, I never wanted her to do all of this– but she insists and insists and doesn’t know how to let go of the, uh…”
“Hubris.” 
“Yes. Hubris.” Carmy sighs, glad you still have the perfect word for everything. “Whatever. Anyways, haven’t forgotten. Hit me with your dream.”
“Okay, it’s going to sound a little weird, but, um… I’m really interested in becoming a labour relations lawyer?” You feel almost too much glee at the fact that Carmy remembered, and you see Carmy bite his lip, a little confused, so you continue, hoping you don’t sound like too much of a fucking nerd. “Meaning to help employees get out of their shitty situations with wages, working hours, benefits and fight for their rights. Union stuff. I don’t know, just feels like everyone is struggling with this nowadays… might as well push forward and try to help them out.”
“Wow, now that you’ve said that, it makes a lot of sense.” Carmy blinks. “I mean, uh, it’s not just that you’re good at arguing– you always go for the justice part of things. Remember when Michael and Sugar were arguing about cleaning the basement?”
You do remember that. You suggested dividing up either equally or by who owned what, and they eventually came to an agreement based on that. Michael wanted to dip because he was older, and Sugar thought it was demeaning to ask a girl to clean.
“Or when Lee said that women can’t think analytically, or what was it… mathematically?” Carmy laughs as he watches your face turn angry again.
“Yeah. I especially remember that. I told him to think about Ada Lovelace and to shut up.” You wince. “Maybe not the most mature thing I’ve ever said. I don’t think that’s such a great thing… sometimes I don’t know when to let go of arguments.”
“It’s alright, it was funny.” Carmy plays with his fingers. “That being said, I think you’ll be good if you choose to be that. A labour relations lawyer. You’re smart, and god fucking knows we all need the help. You should check out how many chefs get fucked over because they work at places for the prestige of doing so.”
“Damn.” You make a mental note of that, feeling embarrassed over how much praise Carmy has freely given you. “Is that going to be you?”
“Doesn’t matter if it is. Sometimes you gotta do what you can.” Carmy doesn’t really give you a clear answer, and you feel bad for him. Bad that he’s still stuck in that mindset.
/
You can hear people hooting and jeering near the stairs, as you walk around the house, exploring a little. Tiff was grateful that you visited her for a brief moment– she told you being pregnant was not all it was cracked up to be– and now you’re just on the upper floor, near the stair railing, on your phone.
You’re not really one to eavesdrop, but you hear– you believe it’s Mikey and Richie– they’re chanting “Claire! Claire Bear!”
Your stomach drops, as you hear them hoot about how hot she is, whoever this Claire girl is– how stacked she is, apparently, the banging body she has, the glasses no longer ruining her appearance– and although you know it’s gross men talk, there’s a small, sad part of you that wants to be perceived as attractive, too. 
Still, even as you find yourself frowning and turning away in disgust, you can’t stop yourself from listening.
You remember her. Claire, one of the neighbours down the street. Went to the same high school as you and Carmy. She was really something, someone of note if you remember the popular kid cliques correctly, but she had largely gone unnoticed by you, and it wasn’t for any reason in particular. You can’t be close with every person in high school.
But still– you feel jealous. Just a teeny bit. What was so different about her?
Sure, she was a nice girl. But weren’t you? You arguably had more history with the Berzattos, and yet… it’s as if you’ve simply blended into the wallpaper, their assortment of home decor and furniture. You’ve always been here, and so you don’t stand out.
You might never stand out.
You can hear Carmy trying his best to argue against them, asking them what they did, telling them to fuck off with their teasing– but he sounds sheepish, embarrassed, righteously mortified in the telltale way one would be when they have a crush, and you feel sick. 
They’re heaping compliments on her. You know what they mean when they talk about her like this– she’s the clear, obvious choice, probably closer to the family, more interesting, more affectionate, a genius. You don’t really know Claire that well, but apparently, she’s perfect. And you know you, in your silly frumpy sweater, in your attempts to dress up– you are not. You feel humiliated that you even believed Mikey when he said you were pretty– he was clearly complimenting you just to be nice. 
You weren’t even an idea in their minds, not for Carmy, anyways. You don’t even think Carmy is capable of seeing you like that now, and it’s with a crushing blow that you realize you were holding out hope. Mistaking familiarity for affection.
It’s a rookie mistake. One that you thought you were self aware enough not to make, because you’ve always known Carmen Berzatto was just out of reach for you.
You wait for them to leave, and come down the stairs, running into Carmy as he groans in annoyance.
/
Carmy says he needs to wipe some of the flour out of his hair, and you let him go upstairs, not really wanting to look at him, doing everything you can to make your way back to the living room unnoticed. In the meanwhile, Michael comes back and flops into Carmy’s seat on the sofa, next to where you sit, sullen.
“Hey, Birdie.” Michael starts, and you can’t read his tone, and you’re a little annoyed with his fake-nice attention. “Why not sit with me, the Faks, Michelle and Stevie? They’re really good people, I promise.”
“How do you know I’m avoiding people?” You snap back, maybe a little too aggrieved.
“It’s written all over your face, little Birdie.” He touches his knee to yours, and you bite your lip, swallowing your confusion, and Mikey enjoys the fact that you’ve chosen to wear a deep, brick-red Christmas lip colour. It’s hot– he doesn’t get how you don’t seem to be aware that you’re attractive.
He wants to kiss you. Maybe mess up that fancy lipstick and that sweet, annoyingly justice oriented, always-right character of yours. But he keeps it to himself.
“Don’t be antisocial. You of all people shouldn’t be alone during the holidays.”
“I’m not trying to be antisocial. I promise.” You shrug, trying to keep your emotions, that sinking feeling in your gut at bay– the last thing you want is for Michael to see you upset. “I was keeping Bear company, but I can come sit with you guys.” 
“That’s my girl.” Michael pulls you up by the arm, and you can feel your face warming at his choice of words– you like being in Michael’s good graces, even if you feel less than great right now.
Michelle, cousin of the Berzattos, has always been sweet to you. She’s impressive in her own right, and as you sit down in front of her and Stevie– she gushes about New York.
“Ah, that’s not to say Chicago isn’t impressive. Right, Birdie?” She smiles at you, not unkindly, and you feel happy to be included. 
“Right.” You shrug, knowing that the law firm you work at isn’t all that crazy. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re nothing special, not after what transpired just a few minutes ago, and you voice it. “It’s just okay.”
“No, c’mon. You work at one of the top fucking law firms in the city– you’re gonna make it.” Michael admonishes you. “Out of us Chicagoans, I mean, Michelle, before you take offense.”
“Yeah, Mish.” Richie echoes, popping up out of nowhere.
“None taken.” Michelle fixes her eyes between you and Michael– perhaps reading on something that you’re not even really sure how to understand, let alone explain– and she laughs. “Anyways, what was I saying? Right.”
She launches into a story about hating a woman who didn’t understand the Berzatto name. It’s quite funny– you find yourself laughing every now and then, the dull ache in your heart less noticeable, especially with how good Michelle is at telling stories, and somewhere along the story, Michael’s hand has stayed intertwined with yours, without you really noticing. You only notice when he lets go, and again– a pitfall in your stomach, wondering if Michael just feels familiar around you because there’s nothing to be attracted to and thus respectful of– and it’s such a stupid thought, but you still just know you want to feel wanted. You want to get a hold on yourself– remind yourself you’re not owed attraction and there’s nothing wrong with Mikey or Carmy seeing you as just a friend.
You realize with a start that you’re feeling confused about Michael, too. Was it just a weird quirk of his, calling every single girl pretty just for laughs? Could you even trust what he said? Why does Michael’s opinion of you feel way more pertinent and important than Carmy’s does?
You find yourself mulling over these thoughts, not sure of what’s going on around you, and you hear Michael tell the Fak bros, Ned and Ted, to shut up about California, which they do.
Donna starts screaming in the background, which causes you to turn abruptly. “Oh, fuck me!”
Michael turns and looks at you with some caution– he’s used to his mother’s outbursts, but he never ever wants you to face them. You don’t deserve that, you’ve probably never done anything to deserve it. Not like him.
Stevie gets up, much to the surprise of everyone around him. “Looks like Auntie D needs help, huh?”
“No, no, no.” Everyone tries to stop him, including you.
“What?”
Michelle pushes him back down, but he gets back up, resilient. 
Lee decides to comment in. “Let him, why not?”
“I’m sure she could use a few extra hands. I’m going.” He goes, and you stand up to follow, not willing to let an innocent person get dragged into Donna’s insanity.
“Wait, Birdie. Where are you going?” Michael holds your hand again, and you turn red at his action– a little angry, a little glum that he seems to care for you, and you can’t even be grateful for it. “Don’t throw yourself to the wolves. It’s not fucking worth it.”
“Not throwing myself– just want to make sure Stevie is protected.” You move forward, your face stony, and Michael lets go of you, sighing as he wraps his blanket around himself, wondering when you got all pissed off, but glad that you’re not so upset that you wouldn’t act all lawyer-y for Stevie.
Lee is glancing at him, while Michelle looks pleased as punch.
“What? What the fuck are these expressions?” Michael looks around questioningly, and Richie gives him a side glance.
“When’d you get all sweet on her, bro?” Richie gags a little. “Not that she’s not your type, but, uh–”
“I’m just being friendly.” Michael dismisses him, leaning back in his seat. “It’s the holidays, she shouldn’t be lonely.”
“Bullshit you are.” Richie sniggers, and Michael lightly shoves him.
“Yeah, I call bullshit too.” Michelle grins. “I can see it– you’re blushing.”
Michael groans, hating to be so obviously vulnerable in front of everyone. 
“Well I, for one, think it’s a huge, fucking catastrophic mistake.” Lee starts, and Michael feels himself blanch under the judgement of this guy. “You’re going to ruin that young woman’s potential if you go around messing with her.”
“Lee, she’s not that young–” Neil starts. “I think she can decide that herself?”
“Whatever. This one knows he isn’t right for her– always wants what he can’t have.” Lee mutters, and Michael feels that white-hot rage– the anger he feels bubbling inside of him as of late. 
He does his best to swallow it down, but a part of him knows that it’s true. As much as Michael enjoys your random visits over the past two years, he knows– you’re too good for someone like him. Too young, too selfless, too honest and good and pretty, and he feels an overwhelming wave of shame that he came so close. It’s like he just… doesn’t know how to be a good, responsible person, and it kills him on the inside that he could be so shameful, be so abhorrent and take advantage of you like that, and even if there is a tiny part of him screaming that it’s not so black and white– that you could be just as interested, of your own volition, in him as he is in you– he feels guilt. 
Michael is ashamed of who he is. Over, and over, there’s that feeling again– kill yourself– that he doesn’t know how to suppress, and he ignores it as he starts up a new story.
/
Natalie is tearing up as Stevie hugs her.
You came towards them in the midst of Donna yelling for Stevie to get the fuck out of the kitchen, and Sugar shushing him and shoving him away, and you now place a hand on her shoulder– clearly Stevie has it handled, somewhat.
When he lets go, she sniffles and you smile encouragingly, albeit a little sadly, and Natalie wipes away a tear. 
“It’s okay. It’s fine, it’s nothing. You don’t need to talk to her.” She starts, and you shake your head.
“I’m not going to. I can see that would make things worse.” You squeeze her shoulders, and Stevie nods.
“Yeah, Natalie. But we’re here. We’ll always be here if you want to talk.” He tries, and you smile at her– but something about Nat’s slightly upset, off putting expression, and Donna’s grumbling in the background– you feel your heart seizing a little at the tense emotions, so similar to your own, and you excuse yourself.
You walk until you reach the pantry, hot tears already working their way down your face. Every single negative emotion have come to a head, and you’re in terrible danger of having to explain things if you don’t get it together in under ten minutes or so.
You sit on the high table in the pantry, trying not to cry anymore than you already have, your head between your knees– but something about today has all your nerves on edge, and you know it’s because you put in some effort to come here, to see your dear friends, to look appealing enough, to be someone worth talking to, and now you feel as if they never really cared about you at all. 
You know these are lousy, immature feelings. You know you can be above them if you really, truly tried, but you let yourself sink into them further, because something about this environment is terrible and you just can’t let it go.
Even worse, no one has really done anything wrong. If this was a court case, you wouldn’t even have any evidence to make a claim. You’re simply confused, perhaps looking at things from the wrong angles– but the fact that you can’t look at this rationally makes you feel worse. As if you’re not as smart as you believed.
You don’t know how long you’ve been in here, when you hear someone shuffle into the pantry, next to you– it’s Michael.
He’s quick on his feet– you try to move away, let him grab whatever household ingredient he needed– but his full attention is on you as his eyes narrow, scanning your tear stained face and your hunched over body.
“Birdie?”
You can’t quite look at him, and you desperately try to wipe your tears, burying your face more between your knees. 
“Hey, no. Birdie.” He shakes his head, grabs your arms. He thinks it’s a little strange he’s had to cheer up two different people in the pantry, but he chalks it up to how his house always is. “What happened? Was it Ma?”
“No.” You sight and swallow down the sobs in your throat.
“Then what was it?” Michael’s eyes turn steely. “Fucking ‘Uncle’ Lee? Asshole. Told me I can’t finish any fucking businesses.”
“But… you run the Beef, don’t you?” You say, amid sniffles, entirely honest about it, and Michael’s eyes soften. “That has to count for something.”
“Yeah, little Bird.” He’s glad to have you here– he doesn’t care if it’s fucked up, not when you’re the only person on his side at this moment. “But why don’t you tell me what’s up?”
“I–” You shake your head, and feel your head hang heavy as you slouch over the table, and Michael leans over you, pressing your head to his chest, and you feel yourself crying silently into his shirt, as he shushes you and combs back your hair, his other arm caressing your back.
Michael’s not the best person– not the most comforting to be around– but he knows, by being an older brother, by being someone people want to be around, he knows how to make it count when he does give in to comfort. 
He just wishes he didn’t feel so goddamned depressed himself, so he would know the right things to say. He doesn’t want to be so useless all the time.
“Mikey?” You voice is timid. Small. 
He feels both elated that you would trust him with this, and devastated that he’ll never be good enough to deserve your trust. 
“Yeah, Birdie?”
“It’s so juvenile, but I…" You shake your head and decide to commit to it. "I wish I was pretty."
“Is that it?” Michael’s arm wraps around your shoulder as he squishes onto the seat of the table, next to you. “You think you’re ugly, huh?”
“I don’t think I’m–” You inhale deeply, and wipe away your tears again. “It’s not about being ugly. It’s more like an objective reality that I have to accept. I’m just not… I’m not anything special to look at.”
“Wow, kid.” Michael tuts and shakes his head. “Ever heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? That stupid fucking mantra, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s true.” Michael almost starts laughing, but you look so solemn and serious, he resists the urge. “You’re not ugly. You might not think you’re all that, but you don’t see what I see.”
Michael tenses, and you watch as he falters over how to explain.
Michael thinks you're so damn annoying with that ardent, sweet expression– even if your tears are staining your face, you still look so grateful to hear him say those words– and it just crushes him. It crushes him to know that you look for his approval so much, when he knows you're worth so much more than that.
He doesn't want to let you down. You and Carmen– he will never be enough for the two of you. 
"I don't– I'm fucking stupid, Birdie, don't listen to me." He swallows, but you're hanging onto his words and your face falls again. 
"But I can listen to you get all poetic about Claire, right?" You mutter, angry, and you get up to leave– but Michael grabs your forearm, and he's quite a bit stronger than you are. 
“Hey. That’s different.” Michael tries, but you shake your head, and you’re left sitting on the table again. “I was only teasing Bear. It has nothing to do with you.”
“I know.” You turn even more glum, and Michael is left feeling terrible, wondering what was so wrong with what he said. 
You’re silent for a moment– you know that you like Carmy, but something about telling Michael about it feels weird, like you’re pre-emptively rejecting him rather than Carmy by confessing feelings that are slowly disappearing– and you just don’t want to.
But you know you need to. You need to accept that Carmy would never see you that way.
“I just… for a really long time, I thought that I…” You fall to silence, again, and Michael is staring at you, hanging onto every word, watching your side profile shake as you try to gather your thoughts. “I really liked him, you know? I don’t even know why– maybe he was just the clearly available, safe option, and now that’s not even true and I feel like I’m mourning something that was never even real. How stupid and childish can I get?”
“Wait, Birdie–”
“And I just… I know I’m not like Claire. I don’t know what I got myself into. I don’t even really like him anymore– it’s just that the situation makes it so damn apparent that I am just average.” You huff out your words with an air of finality that even has Michael flinching a little, and he runs his hands through his hair, unbelieving of what you’ve said. “You can’t even say I’m not, Mikey, because I know how you talked about her and it was just so different to how anyone here has ever thought about me.”
“Birdie, shut the fuck up.” Michael breathes out really heavily, pinching his brows, thinking that he regrets everything he said and he wishes he could take it back. “I didn’t really– I was trying to tease Carmy, you know? It didn’t mean the shit you think it does. Hell, I would be way more serious if I was talking about you.”
He takes a beat of silence– should he read your reaction to that, or keep going? And he decides to keep going.
“You can’t just act like you can read everyone’s minds because you’re a lawyer, Birdie.” Michael says it with a slightly lighter tone, and his hand traces the small of your back as you lean against your knees, staring up at him. “Didn’t you learn about intent or whatever the fuck it was? In school?”
“Yeah, I guess.” You admit despite yourself, and Michael smiles but continues seriously.
“I don’t think that about Claire, okay? If anything, I’m fucking embarrassed you heard me talk all of that shit– that was just meant to be, uh, guy talk. I swear.” Michael swallows, feeling guilty that he still had to be so low about it. “I don’t– I care so much about him, I just went too far in working him up. I think it would be a good thing for him, right?”
Hurt flashes across your face– you still don’t think you like Carmy anymore, you just don’t know how to feel about someone else being portrayed as a “good thing.” But you inhale– you know part of getting over it is having to accept this, and you let yourself think and then nod.
“Yeah. Yeah, I could see that.” You agree, and it doesn’t hurt as much since Michael is looking at you sympathetically. “I just… I want to be a good thing, too. Not for Carmy, just…”
“For someone?” Michael answers as you trail off. 
“Yeah.”
“Listen, Birdie. I’m gonna tell you something you gotta hear.” Michael has that determined look where you know he’s going to say something smart– he has his fleeting moments of wisdom even if he doesn’t believe in himself– and he goes for it. “I can’t believe no one has ever told you just to, I don’t know, fucking love yourself a little? Like, c’mon, you should be able to like yourself! You’re an incredible person and you deserve– you have the right to be insanely fucking confident and it’s so fucking annoying that you don’t see it.”
In the heat of his argument, Michael’s come too close again, and he can feel your breath on somewhere near his jaw or neck, and he has to remind himself to pull away again.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and Michael combs back a strand of your hair.
“Don’t be sorry. Just listen to what I’m saying.” Michael inhales, thinks over why he can’t do this himself– Tina always tells him to be a little easier on himself, but he just struggles– and he thinks that you look terribly cute so it’s just a lot easier to root for you. “Don’t do it for some idiot guy who will never really appreciate you, little Birdie.”
You can feel the conclusion of that sentence, even if Michael doesn’t quite say it: do it for yourself. Be there for yourself. Listen to the good part of yourself, rather than him.
“Oh. I guess that’s…” You swallow, taking it in, knowing the value of his words. “It’s true.”
“See? You know it.” Michael leans in a little too close again, his face a mere breadth away from your own.
“I think you’d actually make a fantastic lawyer.” You slyly comment amid wiping your face, and Michael blinks and then laughs.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you’d get to see me and hear my advice all the time.” Michael mumbles a little over his words but to his surprise, you nod. 
“Yeah, then I’d get to see some idiot who really does appreciate me.” You murmur even more quietly, and Michael, feeling stupid, has a wistful smile on his face that he maybe has not felt in a decade. It’s so sweet– he thinks his heart is bursting with something. 
Maybe love. Maybe that jovial, Christmas spirit that seems to emanate as the food smells closer to ready, maybe what Carmen gave him as a kind gift, most likely the closeness he feels with you– not just being close in familiarity, more like– he can make out the little spots and freckles adorning your face, every single eyelash your still watery eyes have, the faint lines in your still-red lips, and it occurs to him that he’s too close. Somewhere during this talk, his hand has stayed around your back, and you have been tentatively tracing his right hand’s knuckles with your own thumb. 
Michael knows how it looks. If anyone was to walk in right now (and he’s sure Michelle or Richie have already put it together that the two of you have been gone for a while) they would assume you two are a couple.
He has a sudden air of regret– it’s not because he wants to reject you, he just… he struggles a lot with feeling wanted. He struggles with the standards that people seem to put on him. Michael has always known he’s not a good guy– he doesn’t know how to be the person that everyone seems to think he is. Carmen, Natalie, Richie, you– you all seem to think the best of him, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He nearly had a breakdown watching Carmen look up to him so lovingly.
Before he can pull away– with another responsible refusal, telling you that he’s too old and washed up, and that you deserve the whole world and he is not enough to offer that to you– you gently but firmly grab his face, tracing his cheek, and he thinks it could be wrong– what if you’re just feeling all confused and willy-nilly about feelings because you’re displacing what you felt about Carmen, what if you don’t actually like him and you’re assuming that you do because of his clear attraction to you, what if you’re just feeling the moment and the sweet guidance he’s given you?
Tons of questions seem to flow from his mind, things that he wants to ask you, but Michael thinks fuck it, because you’re leaning in first and pulling him in and it’s something he would’ve never expected in a million years, that you could be just as attracted to him.
He kisses you maybe a little too hard– maybe it should’ve been softer, more gentle since you’ve opened up to him so much, but you kiss him just as eagerly back, and he doesn’t fucking care to be gentle anymore. He’s leaning over you and Michael knows he’s quite a bit taller, so he has to pull you upwards to really reach your lips, and the table the two of you are sitting on is quite small– it shakes a little and there’s not much room for Michael to really feel you.
Until you climb into his lap, because of course you do, and now you’re just tangling your fingers in his hair, and he thinks he can feel whatever migraine that the day’s events have spurred on him slipping away, and his hands wrap around the smallest part of your waist as he pulls you in, pressing his chest against yours. 
You feel like Michael’s beard tickles a little– but you don’t mind that. You weren’t sure until you did it that you’ve wanted to kiss him for a while. You feel like maybe you’ve actually been more attracted to him than you ever were with Carmy, maybe even just going for Carmy due to his aforementioned security. 
Michael groans, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, and you sharply inhale as his tongue roams around your own, and he knows he likes hearing you gasp when his hands come up under your sweater, just to feel your bare skin, and you pull away.
Michael comes in too close again, placing a soft yet firm kiss on the corner of your mouth, and you laugh at him, and it’s one of the best sounds he could hear. No longer are you all gloomy and sullen in the corner of the room– but there’s still an air of heat around you two, and he knows he should let you go before things go too far. 
“Consider that a Christmas present.” You murmur softly, tapping his face, genuinely smiling despite the smeared lipstick, and you clamber off his lap, and peek out the pantry. “I think you’re good to go eat dinner– let me just…”
You wipe the red lipstick from his mouth using the corner of your sweater sleeve, so not to leave evidence, and it’s an intimate moment that has Michael staring at your hand, to your eyes, and there’s something in his eyes– maybe sorrow, maybe appreciation, but most of all, tenderness, and he takes a silly, soft moment to just kiss your hand. You beam at him.
“How long have you wanted to do that?” You tease him, because you know that Michael has always had that look, and he stiffens for a moment.
“Ah… maybe around when you came back from graduating college.” Michael admits, feeling weirdly high and low all at the same time, but he questions you too. “What about you? Don’t tell me you just decided to kiss me right now. That would fucking… that would be too much.”
His heart falls for a split second– thinking about how again you could’ve just been having a little fling– why would you ever like him? He struggles to think how you could, even after having kissed you.
“No, no. I swear it’s not like that.” You turn a little red and play with your hands. “Um. You’re not like a rebound, Mikey, I just… I think I liked you ever since I started coming around more, maybe around last year? I probably just didn’t notice because I thought I was into Carmy. You know? Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”
“Yeah, I know.” Michael tries not to let the relief show through his face too much. “I thought maybe I was… reading too much into it. Putting pressure on you.”
“No, you’re good.” You shake off his concerns. “I don’t think that at all. I really do like you… might’ve just been obsessed with the idea of a childhood friend turning into a lover.”
Michael grins. “Well, who’s to say that didn’t fucking happen, Birdie? Are we not childhood friends?”
“Eh… kind of. You’re a bit old.” You give him a so-so motion, and Michael jokingly pushes you a little. “I’m kidding! This is more like– your friend’s hot older brother gives you a chance and it’s crazy and exciting and you just want to know more.”
You were half kidding, but you’re so honest about it, and Michael loves it, but there’s still that undercurrent of agony– he wants to just openly like you, too, but he doesn’t want to be such a fucking failure about it.
“I’m gonna just head to the dining table, I think.” You check your watch. “Gotta go think about this a little more– is that okay? Not in a bad way, I’m just overwhelmed with everything that’s happened today…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s okay, Birdie.” Michael presses a kiss into your hairline. He knows it is a lot for anyone to handle– getting over a crush you thought you had, realizing that you like someone else– he gets it. “Take all the time you need.”
“Okay.” You smile eagerly at him and then walk outside through the hallway, wiping your mouth so it looks less kiss-stained, and peek around so no one is looking at you. 
Michael feels a million emotions hit him at once, and he knows he has to cool himself down before explaining to everyone where you’ve gone, what’s happened– or he’s certain to implicate himself, and he can’t have that. 
It all goes to shit not even twenty minutes later.
You’re sitting pretty between Richie and Tiff, who seem to be a little bit… awkward, maybe arguing mentally about something you don’t completely understand. No one has really commented on your disappearance, but you’re sure it’s obvious based on how Michelle and Stevie are whispering and smiling at you.
Michael gets a massive, depressive episode right after you’ve left him. He can’t exactly pinpoint why– he feels like a creep even if he isn’t one. Hell, he only actually met you when you were nineteen– he was in a different state when you started visiting the Berzattos. But even if Michael ignores his potential, old-man creepiness… he also feels like you’re headed for so much more than he ever was, and he knows he’s holding you back if he does this. 
For once in his life, he just wanted to be happy. He just wanted to be wanted without the stigma of not being good enough. 
You, Carmy, and Nat. He knows you guys are on your way. Michael feels a pit in his stomach as he imagines why you guys all have to look up to him so much– he just happened to be in the right place, at the right time.
He can’t ignore the feeling that he is just a major fucking loser.
That’s why Michael goes and gets high. He knows he’s making a mistake, and he doesn’t want to do something so disappointing– but he figures he’s already a disappointment anyways. He’s grateful you’re not here outside to see how pathetic he really is– how much he craves a hit just to feel a little less shitty. And yes, it calms him down as he feels the high of the painkillers exacerbate positive memories, like with you, Carmy, Natalie– but it still makes his anger, his depressive tendencies strong, too. 
When he sits down at the dining table– he’s not that intoxicated, but he knows it’s a little apparent on his face, based on the mild alarm on your own. You’re sitting just far enough from him for there to be plausible deniability, but still– you are worried about him.
“You good?” You mouth, and he waves away your question with an air of fake nonchalance. 
You don’t look convinced. You can see the red in Michael’s eyes, the general tension in his shoulders, the unnerving sense of resentment in his expression. You wonder what could have happened in the last ten minutes that you’ve been sitting at the table, why Michael decided to go and get intoxicated just minutes after kissing you.
Were you too much for him? Maybe.
You know Michael gets high. In fact, last Easter, you’re pretty sure he spent the entire time high on something– but you only vaguely know about his anger flare ups. About his negative emotions, the supposed depressive periods he goes through. You’ve seen him argue a bit with Richie, you know he’s gotten a bit harsh with Carmy, but you know he’s a bit more troubled than that. The whole family seems a bit troubled. Natalie has told you that much, and you have your experience with that– your mother and father’s fights are ones that still make you quiver to think about. But with Michael?
You don’t know how much you believed it, until now, because Michael always seemed kind of… like he always had the right thing to say. You almost feel like he’s in the right to get upset, because he’s had a hard time, with his family, some of his luck surrounding his career– especially with how Lee continually riles him up.
The table is formal and nice for a bit. Michael and Tiff converse about something, Carmy asks if you’re okay and you mostly are. Michelle asks Mikey to say grace, and he sounds resentful, again, of Lee cutting him off so often. 
Cicero, being the responsible uncle that he is, tries to push off grace to Stevie, who promptly rejects it, and Michelle decides to ease the tension by asking what the hell the seven fishes are all about. Lee, of course, gleefully answers, about the dutch potatoes and the bible.
Michael glares at him and throws a fork. A real, honest-to-god, heavy piece of silverware. It clatters on the carpeted floor– you feel yourself flinch, and you watch Natalie and Pete’s expressions crumble into the realization that Michael is not okay, and everyone seems to look towards him in fear.
“You see what you did, right? You already did that. You already bitched about the dutch oven.” Michael retorts at him, not completely coherent, and you can feel the lights glazing over– the Christmas tree, the wreaths and baubles, everything seems to lose focus in comparison to the red-hot anger that Michael is bubbling over with.
Cicero and Carmy try to call him off, but Michael isn’t listening, and you can tell– he’s in a place to be upset. It’s like a slowly proceeding car crash– as much as you don’t want him to do it, you understand why he’s going to. You feel like there is a bit of a double standard in place here– Cicero seems to want him to respect his elders, and Michael is being kind of childish, but you can’t say you don’t understand why.
Michael asks for Fak’s fork, in direct opposition to Lee’s attempts to play the father in this house. Despite Fak’s insistent refusals, Michael successfully takes it. Everyone speaks with the intent to stop him, and he’s too focused on Lee to stop.
You know you hate Lee too. But such a severe reaction, coming from Michael? It has you wincing a little. You want to pull him away– tell him to be the nice older brother you’ve always known him to be– but you know it takes time. You know it’s probably going to get worse. You try to catch his eye– and he can't quite look at you.
You have faith in him. You know Michael can do better than this– you just hope he can see it, too. 
Michael throws the second fork, and you feel regret in trusting him, again, because he’s making things bad but it’s almost as if he can’t help it. You catch Natalie’s eyes– she’s clearly disappointed, too.
Michael feels a sick sense of pleasure, as he often does when it comes to acting out his worst desires. But he feels a flash of anger with himself– is that what he did with you? Is he really this guy? He thinks that he is, he is a bad dude and he can commit to that role if that’s what’s needed.  
“Cousin, you’re scaring the normals.” Richie tries, looking at Tiff and you, but you’re still yearning to catch his glance– and Michael can only respond that it’s nothing, everything is fine, and you’re suddenly reminded of when your parents used to fight and how you used to have to be the middle man and convince them that things were alright.
Michael looks towards you this time– but you’re not looking at him. You have your hands neatly clasped in your lap, your eyes are focused on the set of candles in the middle of the table, and you look horribly upset, with your neck all tense as you wait for things to blow over, and he can tell– he’s fucking up big time. Stevie, Carmy, everyone is looking pained, and Michael can only think that he doesn’t give a shit. He wants to make Lee feel just as terrible as he does.
"You see– I can throw forks because this is our father’s house." Michael scoffs back, and there's real agony in his tone. “My father’s house.”
Michelle inhales. “We have lift-off.”
“Okay, you got everyone's attention, so go ahead, tell us a story we've all heard a million times already.” Lee spits out, barely holding back his own contempt for Michael, and Michael starts laughing as if everything’s alright. “Tell a story about how you're living with your mom and you're borrowing money off of her and any other sucker who'll listen to your bullshit.”
Everyone looks towards the table, feeling terribly awkward about Lee’s accusations– it’s not that it’s necessarily untrue, but there’s a hefty amount of his own assumptions, his own bias thrown in there, and you want to speak up.
“Lee, shut the fuck up.” Cicero looks absolutely pissed off at him, and you’re grateful someone has taken some of the heat off of Michael. It’s Lee’s fault, too.
“I’m sorry. I told you not to be a sucker, Jimmy.” Lee comments, and Cicero exhales, exasperated.
“Lee. That’s not really fair– you’re being too hard on him.” You utter through gritted teeth, and Lee’s eyes narrow on you. It's the first time you've spoken, and Michael glances at you– his eyes are bright and he genuinely looks sorry. Sorry he had to go this far.
“Oh, am I? Really, Birdie? I would suggest I’m not being hard enough.” Lee raises his hands, invites you to speak more, and you know that it’s not really your place to do so, especially because Lee and Michael seem to have a lot of history.
But you have your almost-lawyer tendencies, and of course you’re not exactly unbiased either, because you want to see the best in Michael– you want to like him. 
"Please, Lee… Michael's working on himself. You don't need to lie to him." You stare at him, and Lee’s face seems to turn darker with that. “I’m sure we all have our issues… it feels like a lot.”
"Is that what he's told you, Birdie?" Lee sneers at you, and you suddenly feel small. "He's a sick, fucking twisted man, and you would trust him, wouldn't you?"
He doesn’t go further than that– but it’s enough that you feel humiliated for being read so thoroughly. It’s obvious what he’s implying– you’re a silly little girl who doesn’t know any better. 
“It's fine. It's fine. Because this guy's nothing and he's nobody.” Lee points at Michael again, and his expression sours so much. You watch as Michael seems to zero in on what Lee’s rambling on about. 
Natalie shakes her head in little no-no motions.
“Hey… Petey… I just need to, uh… I need to borrow this for one second.” Michael’s got that nonchalant expression again, but there’s pain in his eyes, and there’s a clamour of everyone again telling Michael to stop, calling his name, trying to distract him.
"Michael. Michael. Please don’t do this. Hey. Hey. Hey!" Natalie calls at him, and you know she's just begging for him to leave it alone. “I love you. Okay?” 
You watch as Michael, holding the fork, just holding it, clear malicious intent in his eyes, tension building in the air and you feel a little sick, but his eyes are watering and he clearly doesn’t want to do what he thinks he has to.
“I love you too, Sug.” Michael says honestly.
Stevie giggles, Cicero de-escalates things further, and you think you see the light at the end of the tunnel, if not for the fact that Michael is still holding the fork. Still standing up, taunting him, acting like a big old child as Carmy rebukes him– and it’s really just two grown men beginning to get all macho and toxic about who’s tougher, who’s really the man of the house, and they start screeching at each other and you watch as Michael’s eyes glaze over with something, with Lee’s final insult that “he’s nothing.”
You watch as Michael takes his seat. He seems ambivalent, hard to read– he’s not meeting anyone’s eyes and you feel terrible about it.
Donna comes in and takes her seat– she seems rather drunk, too, and the last thing you need is more evidence that substance abuse is a bad thing– and Stevie starts the most wonderful prayer that still isn’t enough to dissuade Michael. You catch his gaze– he’s mulling over something, his eyes are watery, and you want to go over there and talk him down, even if that idea is unwise.
Donna cries over the prayer, and Natalie commits the most cardinal sin that she could at this moment: she asks if she’s okay.
You flinch with recognition as Donna starts screaming at her, about how she is okay and could a person who isn’t okay make such a gorgeous meal, and she exits the room in visible anger, and Natalie begins to hyperventilate, while Michelle tries to calm everyone down.
Donna throws a plate down on the floor, and exits the room continuing to scream– and there’s a beat of tense silence, full of angst and what-nows, and Lee decides to take initiative breaking that silence with a silly joke– almost in a paternal role, again, a hot topic between him and Mikey– and you watch Michael’s eyes start narrowing as he leans against his hand.
Michael throws the third fork.
It’s like every single nerve you felt, every bit of tension that was already in place, comes to a head as Michael starts going batshit, trying his best to attack Lee, while the Fak brothers and Richie are between them, and you can barely think straight as everyone starts screaming at each other. 
Tiff almost gets dragged into the chaos, and you're left shielding and comforting her from the fight. Pete and Richie hold Michael off and you're thankful– the last thing you want is to go up in there and get caught in the crossfire yourself. It’s genuinely a blur– you have no idea how bad things are getting until Cicero starts telling them to get the fuck out.
Suddenly, the wall of the living room bursts inwards, the Christmas tree getting dragged in the crossfire, and you realize with shock that someone’s driven a car inside.
Not just any car– that’s Donna in there, driving, and you think for a moment she’s dead. You can’t believe what’s happening– you can feel your heart hammering through your chest.
Michael runs towards the car, tries to open the front door, yelling and asking her what she did, asking her to open the door. She stirs a little.
Everyone else is standing there, in shock, not focusing properly on what to do, and you pull yourself away from the crowd of people, as they stare on in horror. You don’t want to be a part of this, but you are, and you know what a responsible adult would do. 
You go outside, into the December night’s cold air, and call 911. Specify for the firefighters and ambulances, because Cicero has a big thing against narcs and cops and you’re not getting into that right now.
Even though you’re freezing, and that’s what you should be focusing on? You’re in an incredible amount of despair because of what’s taken place. You hang up the call and feel exhausted by everything that’s happened, and you wonder if Michael really knows better. If he can be more than this. It’s not something you’re judging him for– but you feel terrible about his circumstances and you want him to get out of there.
Worse, you can’t help but feel a little upset with him. Because you know that Michael didn’t have to stoop that low– he chose to, and that’s what bothers you the most. He let his emotional responses dictate how he was going to act, and you know it’s hard to not be so provoked in this environment, but still: you are concerned and upset with him, and you know you need to take a step back. As much as it hurts you to stay away, you feel like it’s going to hurt even more if you intentionally stay around.
You wait for the ambulance and fire trucks to show up– you take a minute to direct them through the house, and then you trust that someone else has got it from there. Carmy, Natalie, Michelle, Stevie– they’ve got each other, they’re whispering about something, and you know where you’re not needed.
You grab your coat and leave, leave as silently as you can without interrupting everything that’s going on. It’s an strange walk home– ten minutes of you thinking about everything.
You hope next Christmas will be better.
/
Michael comes down from his high hard. Someone’s wrapped a blanket around him, and he’s sitting on the front porch’s staircase, wondering what the hell is going on. Donna’s apparently been taken to the hospital– and there’s a makeshift tarp where the wall has been crashed in. Everyone has gone home.
Where did you go? He has a moment of panic. Are you okay? Did he fuck it up that badly? That you would leave without saying goodbye? Michael can picture the disappointment on your face, and he wishes– he really wishes he was someone else.
He’s stressing really hard, his eyes are beginning to tear up. God, he knew he wasn’t really worthy of your attention– you’re young still, you have the whole world ahead of you– and he wonders if he can apologize. He wonders what he could possibly say to make it right. After such an insane situation, he can’t even blame you for taking off.
Natalie tells him, kind sister that she is, that you were the one to call emergency services. Of course you were– you have a strong head on your shoulders and Michael feels strongly that his family is in debt to you. And then you headed home, but Natalie doesn’t know why.
He does have your number. But he’s not going to call you, not right now– he’s not going to make a bigger mistake and fuck things up further. 
Michael sighs, and leans back. He doesn’t deserve to be happy.
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galesdevoteewife · 3 months
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Gale may not be so typical squishy wizard/scholar?
-My Galeology study note-
Looking at his character sheet in the Deluxe pack gets me thinking, maybe our wizard is not exactly designed to be the typical squishy one...?
[Act2 spoiler warning]
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2 things caught my eyes:
1) Great physical fitness, and good reflexes. (For your reference, Gale & Wyll are the two companions who have the highest Con: 15. I put everyone's sheets at the bottom of the post.)
His Con and Dex are... very high?? I mean, higher than Karlach and Lae'zel...????
Note 1: I suspect it could have something to do with his background as Mystra's chosen, as they are somewhat "transformed" when they agree to become the goddess's chosen. A topic for another day since I haven't quite figured it out yet, for anyone who is interested there's a chapter about it in The Seven Sisters. Also, I have little clues on how much chosen lore credit Larian was taking into account while designing him, or how Mystra's "taking back the given ability" works. Note 2: Again, Mystra's chosen are often sent on missions that involve a lot of traveling according to Elminster's series. Mystra also mentioned that Gale and she used to have adventures together, which leads to an assumption: despite his preference he might be traveling quite a lot until he was cast aside and quarantined himself in his tower. Might be the type of scholar who is very keen on field studies?
Note 3: Can someone undress Elminster to exam my theory please??xD Neh won't work I think all human might share same body model in game
Come to think of it, there was a party banter between Karlach & Gale that went like :
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Karlach: Whoa! Almost slipped there. Gale: You wouldn't be the first, I'd wager. It's been some time since these walkways felt the carpenter's hammer. Karlach: You gonna catch me if I eat a brick? Gale: With my reflexes? I'd catch you before you so much as stubbed a toe.
At first I thought that was a sarcastic joke but, seems like it wasn't? Also this:
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Karlach: Ready to enter the belly of the beast? Gale: It's the stairs I'm dreading. I shall close my eyes, and pretend I'm climbing my own, far superior tower in Waterdeep. Karlach: In that case, welcome home.
...So it seems when I pictured him as a homebody, I should reimagine the concept of home... His has...lots of stairs? Just walking around in the tower could be counted as a workout, sort of thing? Note: I don't think the place he shows in the Act 2 cutscene is his tower. Otherwise, aren't these neighbors pretty much doomed?
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2) Not THAT smart. Well, I love him, so I will speak in his defence: [1] He has a warm(s) digging holes in his brain. [2] Poisonous magical bile running in his blood. Maybe he's just not at his best, makes sense, eh? Wyll mentioned he is nerfed after tadpole too. After all, this man obviously memorized a DICTIONARY:
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Gale: You promised to stay in Waterdeep. 'Promise,' verb, meaning to swear something will or will not be done. Tara the Tressym: And I decided 'will not'. And a good thing, too. You look like you haven't had a good meal in days
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Player: When I said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps'. What does that really mean? Gale: If I recall correctly, the Waterdhavian Dictionary of the Common Tongue of Faerûn defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. Gale: Sorry, sometimes I just can't help being quite insufferable. In seriousness, I'm glad you asked that question.
Along with a bunch of you-may-never-need information:
Everything about ceremorphosis? Myconid? Why in the world have him read about Cazador??? And how can he not know the distance between Waterdeep & Baldur's Gate, even Karlach ―who spent a decade, which is likely half of her life in hell― knows better geography than him. Gale either totally ignored the subject or portaled everywhere; distance meant nothing to him?? Uh, but you can't take party banters too seriously; it's buggy. How could a bug bit Karlach in the swamp? It should've been burned into ashes before it even reached her, no?
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Anyway, just rambling some thoughts <3 I would have gone to Harvard if there was a major in Gale...
-DISCLAIMER- Brought to you by a brainrot wife, Galerian missionary. Be warned the article might has (strong) bias because the writer is braindead and she thinks Gale is the most awesome character in the world.
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ukiyowi · 5 months
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People coming into your life and the kinds of people you attract!
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❗Important Note❗Do Not Copy/Plagiarise, reblogs help a ton if you liked the PAC! You can check out the Masterlist for more, or get a personalised reading :)) have a lovely day!! Reblogging and paid readings help a lot! Pls DM me if you want one!
Masterlist || Paid Readings || Tip 🍯
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Entering your life
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People you attract
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- ﹒⪩⪨﹒
🪻Pile 1
Aww this is cute, the new people coming to you are going to be upbeat and light-hearted, yet quite serious. They will celebrate your every win and teach you how to enjoy yourself and take time off (hi workaholic pile😍) these people may be the foundation when it comes to being lifelong friends. They may be the kind to make an unbreakable bond with you. You could also meet them at a party or a family celebration!
They will seem talkative and jolly and you will have no problem making easy conversation with them. They may have issues regarding fear and anxiety about the future, and you may have similar problems too which you would discuss and try to heal through.
They will help you ease your thoughts and restless mind as well. They may be the type to be a little possessive and greedy, and they crave financial stability. This could be the result of past hardships where they've lost a lot and don't want to lose anything more. They may also hold on to the past tightly, carrying their hurt because they may feel they need to.
Placements: Cancer, Aries, Pisces, mars, Jupiter, 4th house, 6th house and 11th house.
Keywords: 444, guidance, instinct, trust, stability, stagnation, home, calling, great expanse, feeling seen, horror, laughter, poetry, anarchism, angel
- ﹒⪩⪨﹒
Pile 2
Ths people coming into your life are going to be immensely ambitious, the kind that's a little too intense if I'm being honest. They're very fast paced and may like to go through life in an organised and calculated manner. They may seem distant or in their own world when you first meet and you may meet in a work environment. You may notice that they're strict yet sensitive, they have a heart of gold and may not like making small talk.
They may be very successful and assertive. Could get into arguments easily because they may be a bit defensive about the world they do. They'll help you grow and understand yourself better, probably bringing more structure and balance in your life.
They'll also be quite competitive so they may love playing video/board games with you as well and they'll also teach you how to stop always compromising even when you don't need to. They're mature and dependable they'll probably be like a mentor figure almost. They're the kind of person to constantly work even when they're supposed to be on vacation and they've worked hard to get where they are.
Placements: Virgo, Leo, Aquarius, 1st house, 8th house, 10th house, Mercury and mars
Keywords: 1212, finality, family, partnership, domesticity, cooking, wit, fun, tingling, moods, shining, strength, mastery, work, togetherness, vision, innovation
- ﹒⪩⪨﹒
🪻Pile 3
Abundant, so elegant, this person will have an extremely regal energy. They may be a social butterfly, someone who makes connections easily and they may have a maternal vibe to them. They're going to be generous and helpful will probably be quite wealthy, and are the kind of person to donate to charities frequently. For some reason it's coming though that you may meet them while doing humanitarian work. They'll also be homebodies so as much as they like socialising they may like spending time with a small circle of friends at home.
They may teach you how to heal from abandonment, maybe they went through something similar and will help guide you. They may also teach you how to leave things you no longer need behind and turn your back on the past. They'll be very Intune with their surroundings and the energies around them and may be interested in the occult.
One thing that's coming through strongly is that they may be secretive and mysterious which is what will pull you in, however this can get tiring pretty quickly because it may seem like you keep opening up to them but they don't. They may also have very good intuition.
Placements: Scorpio, Taurus, Gemini, moon, Pluto, 2nd house, 5th house, 8th house.
Keywords: southern, 888, loops, waves, answers, forgotten, youth, fantasy, bad habits, ending, unbelievable, 7, kindred, identity, survival, opinions of others, story, listening.
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- ﹒⪩⪨﹒
🍀 Pile 1
Hopeless romantics, people who may be a little naïve and innocent, viewing the world through rose coloured glasses, but they're also strong willed and determined, nothing can get them down, they're independent people who, when in love, fall too fast and too deep. They are successful professionally but may be a bit immature when it comes to expressing their emotions. They may be people who don't like expressing negative emotions as it makes them feel like they're getting the mood down, they may not be comfortable with vulnerability and emotional intimacy.
- ﹒⪩⪨﹒
🍀 Pile 2
Brave people, warriors at heart, they've probably been through a rough past that has left them a little jaded but even with their rough edges they are extremely soft. May be the kind of people to be there through thick or thin, a dependable friend, people who're always there to help no matter what. They may be "fixers" and feel they can fix people with their love. Calm and stable individuals who have a lot of wanderlust and usually believe in the occult, they're also very stern and may come off as a little harsh at times.
- ﹒⪩⪨﹒
🍀 Pile 3
Low-key, energy vampires, they may be attracted to you because they can either get something from you, or you're an empath and are healing to be around. People who're a little self-absorbed and selfish, may not be the best at respecting boundaries, more of a talker than a listener. A little flighty, very flirty, the type of people you would want to go on a short trip because of how fun they are. May leave you speechless at times simply because of the bizarre things they say, people who may be resistant to change.
- ﹒⪩⪨﹒
🍀 Pile 4
Gentle souls, wise people who give great advice but their advice may be unsolicited at times which could have a tendency to annoy people, people who're usually artistic in some way maybe they play instruments or draw or dance. They're very charming but can be manipulative if they want because of how good they are with their speech. Big emotions, people who have high highs and low lows. The kind of people who may be a bit paranoid and are natural worriers, they can also be a little superstitious. Really warm and welcoming individuals.
- ﹒⪩⪨﹒
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Ukiyowi All Rights Reserved ®©
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prettypixels22 · 3 months
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Headcanons for spending Christmas with call of duty characters
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(feat. simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick, john price,
kate laswell, farah karim, alex keller, phillip graves)
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a/n: for context, in each section you’re referenced to have kids with each character and, although not explicitly stated, the reader is implied to be a homebody but these headcanons are kept gender neutral. if you continue to read, i hope you enjoy.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Christmas is the best time for him to show how much he appreciates you and the kids
He’s not a bad parent, he’s always been very good with the kids
He provides for you all and takes care of them the best he can but he knows he can be emotionally distant at times
He can handle most situations involving his kids but when they get upset or argue with each other, he struggles and has to rely on you to help them
It’s not that he doesn’t want to emotionally connect with them, he just isn’t sure how and he’s not used to talking about his feelings
So gift giving is a good way for him to express that he does care and love you all
He likes both receiving and gifting things that are homemade or sentimental, he enjoys those kinds of gifts because they are specific to your little family and that makes it so special to him
Skulls become like a trademark to your family and tiny skull symbols are hidden in most gifts, wether it be a carving on a wooden item, an engraving on a piece of jewelry, an embroidery on fabric or even woven into those little bracelets kids like to make
Speaking of skulls, your kids definitely have skull designed sky masks that they used to stay warm when they play in the snow
The kids sit on the same sled and have Ghost pull them around, it’s so heart warming seeing your partner and children play while wearing the same masks like they’re a little family of ghosts
When your children go to bed, you talk to Simon about something they’ve been telling you recently, “The kids want a dog.”
You bring it up during one of those intimate times when he’s not wearing his mask and you feel like you can read his mind
Instead of the blank stare you usually see when all of his features, save for his eyes, are covered, you can see the slight changes in his expression
His eyebrows twitch and his jaw clenches, you can’t tell he doesn’t think it’s a good idea
“We can name him Riley,” you joke, “He can be our guard dog and protect us when you’re not around.”
Although you weren’t being serious, he actually started warming up to the idea
It wouldn’t be a puppy though, he’d take you to look at retired military dogs
There was one you two took a particular liking to, a german shepherd, he was a nice dog and in need of a good home but he also had the proper training to be able to protect you and the kids if need be
The kids loved him, of course, and he was very gentle with them, wagging his tail while they hugged and pet him
You ended up falling asleep to a Christmas movie, your family cuddled up together on the couch with your new dog
John “Soap” MacTavish
Johnny loves Christmas and eagerly waits for it to come around every year
There’s always a mountain of gifts around the Christmas tree
Half of the presents he bought, he purchased all the way back in January
He just gets so giddy seeing you and the kids enjoy his gifts that he immediately wants buy more after Christmas is over
Then when it finally gets close to December, you two have your kids’ Christmas lists to deal with
You two have to start wrapping them, at least, a week in advance because there’s no way you’re getting them all done in one night
Especially when you have to wait for the kids, who are pumped full of sugar from eating too many Christmas cookies, to go to sleep
So they get double the gifts and on top of that they get even more when you visit the MacTavish family (which is huge by the way)
Speaking of, when you do visit his family, you get to sit inside by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa with his parents and sisters and watch from the window while Soap takes your kids outside to play with their cousins and uncles in the snow
You get a front row seat to the comical scene of Johnny being hit with a snowball and dramatically collapsing to the grown, a swarm of children climbing over him and playfully attacking
He will play outside with his kids for hours, having snowball fights, building snowmen, sledding
He’d love to take them snowboarding one day, if only the military would grant him enough leave time to take them to a ski resort
While your kids play with their nieces and nephews, Soap will definitely try to sneak you away for some “alone time”
If you object to this and tell him him that you two need to go back and watch your kids, he’ll pull you into an empty room, large hands cradling your face as he tries to bargain with you, “Just lemme give you a quick kiss, bonnie. Hmm?”
But it’s never just a “quick kiss” and you don’t know how you keep falling for that
He’s so sweet when he’s affectionate, he’ll slow dance with you by the fireplace or run you a nice relaxing bath with rose petals, it’s a romantic and intimate way of showing you how much he loves you
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Since joining task force 141, he’s had to spend more time away from you and the kids then he’s used to
He misses you all a lot when he’s away but it makes each Christmas that much more special because he has to cherish every second he spends with you and your children
You two usually plan for Christmas together but since he’s been away you do most of the planning and he helps as much as he can when he finally returns home
If you’re cooking something and he knows what ingredient you’ll need next, he’ll grab it for you and set it on the counter before you even have the chance to ask
He also keeps the kids distracted so you can focus on dinner by building gingerbread houses with them, which were a lot harder than he was anticipating and by the time they got the house to stand, there were globs of frosting everywhere with gumdrops and mints scattered across the kitchen table
He cleans it all up though along with any mess you might’ve made while cooking dinner, he cleans the dishes and pans that you’ve used so you don’t have to worry about it later and wipes down the counter
You’re more excited than usual to invite your in-laws to Christmas Dinner
You’ve grown super close to them since Gaz joined Task Force 141, they were your rock during his absence
If you ever needed help with the kids or were just lonely, they would welcome you into their home with open arms
You’d sit with them and talk about how you missed Gaz or how good of a father and partner he was
They’d reminisce about raising him and the childhood they worked so hard to provide for him, going through a photo album of baby Kyle and explaining the backstory behind each picture
Throughout the dinner Gaz sees how close you’ve gotten with his family and it’s not just you, his kids have also grown accustomed to seeing their grandparents regularly
That Christmas is so hard for him because he just wants to be able to be with you and kids again
He knew what he was getting into when he joined 141 and he still believes in the cause but seeing his family get along and be happy makes it a challenge for him not to go back to the SAS
“You know I love you, right?” He’ll ask after dinner. He start saying it a lot more often because if something does happen to him, he doesn’t want their to be a doubt in your mind about how much he loves you and the kids
As the end of his leave time approaches, he kisses you nonstop and holds you and the kids tight, knowing he’ll have to say goodbye soon
John Price
Every year there’s at least one gift that relates to the military
It all started when your son wrote that he wanted nerf guns on his Christmas list one year
That Christmas you and your husband watched your son and daughter go to war with one another, running around the house and hiding under tables, trying to shoot each other with foam bullets
Price thought it was hilarious and the kids clearly enjoyed it, so he started gifting them foam weapons and toy sets with fake knives, grenades and binoculars
He enjoys watching his kids play with each other and was particularly amused one day when your son was army crawling around in the grass trying to sneak up on his sister
That next Christmas he got your son a ghillie suit which he became absolutely infatuated with
You’d call the kids in for dinner and your son would walk in looking like a mountain of grass
That one gift was what started the tradition of gifting actual military gear
While your daughter just likes getting things she and her brother can play together with, your son becomes interested in actual military equipment
His Christmas lists will start to include things like a tact helmet or vest
One time, he got them both night vision goggles which sucked for you because when he had to leave the kids wanted to stay up all night and play in the dark
(Side note: His kids have definitely picked up on words that relate to the military and war but they don’t fully know what the words mean so they’ll say things like “homework is propaganda”)
Something oddly specific that Price is thankful for is the fact that the older his kids get, the longer they want to sleep in
He loves watching the kids get excited from seeing the present under the tree and all but he enjoys the few hours he has in the morning where he can just hold you close
You two already don’t get to have a lot of time together because of your husband’s line of work and having two children didn’t help since most of your attention revolves around them
He cherishes the mornings where everything’s calm and quite and you’re curled up in his arms without a care in the world
Kate Laswell
She’s very efficient went it comes to buying the kids Christmas presents
When your kids write their Christmas lists, you two split the responsibility, she buys half and you buy the rest
It minimizes the time you have to spend buying gifts and you two usually get it done early so there’s no last minute present hunting, it makes the process quick and painless
During the week of Christmas, you two would take your kids to a café so they could have sweet treats for breakfast and a nice hot chocolate with a small candy cane to stir the piping liquid
After that you’d walk down the street, checking out different gift and pop-up shops so the kids could get Christmas souvenirs
Kate loves taking pictures of you all during the holidays and would definitely take your kids to get their pictures taken with a mall Santa
All of the photos would go in a photo album she has of all the happy memories and milestones you’ve all had over the years
The night before she has to leave for work again, you two sit on the porch and watch the snow fall
Your ears pick up on the sound of a quite ‘flck’ and you turn to see your wife lighting a cigarette, “Kate.”
A small chuckle escapes her lips, she knows how much you hate when she smokes, “It’s Christmas. Humor me, just this once.”
You don’t want your last night together to be a fight so you don’t push the issue but you don’t hide your disapproval either, “Those things are bad for you.”
She takes your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers, “Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”
You know she has and it’s why you worry each time she’s away, you brush your fingers against her knuckles, “Do you have to go?”
“Unfortunately,” she exhales the smoke from her cigarette, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “But I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”
Farah Karim
Similar to Ghost, she’s a good parent but sometimes struggles to connect with them emotionally
Your kids would absolutely adore her though
I mean, she’s the most badass role model any kid could have
They always make sure she’s involved in activities, even if she’s too busy to actual partake
She’ll be talking to one of her soldiers on the phone when, all of a sudden, her kids run up to her to hand her Christmas treats and hot cocoa that they made with you
She tends to think of her brother a lot during the holidays, gifting her kids things that she and Hadir enjoyed as children
She doesn’t ever want them to go through what she went through with her brother, first losing her parent and the Hadir turning on her
She teaches them to respect each other and will immediately shut down any fights they have
She appreciates that you light three candles each Christmas for her brother and parents, it’s a subtle acknowledgment of the family she’s lost without crossing any boundaries or opening up old wounds
Although a big portion of her time is preoccupied by the work she’s does to protect her homeland as well as you and your children, she always makes sure that on the holidays there will be a few days where her focus is solely on you and the kids
The kids eat this up and immediately put her to work, they love having her undivided attention and all the Christmas activities she wasn’t able to do before they have her do now
They’ve already make Christmas cookies with you so they’ll make gingerbread houses with her
I also think that because her soldiers are like family, they’d hold a small ceremony where each each soldier brings their loved ones and they pass around little homemade gifts that they made with their family
On the night of Christmas, you and Farah sit in front of the three candles you had lit, in a few minutes it’ll be twelve am and Christmas will officially be over
”Do you want to have the honor of blowing them out?” you ask
She gives you a soft smile, “I’ll let them burn a little longer.”
She wonders if her parents and brother can see her, if they’re glad to see her living a happy life with you and the kids
You move closer, wrapping an arm around her, “I’m sure they’d be proud of you, Farah. So proud.”
Alex Keller
I feel like he’d be such a good girl dad
On Christmas Eve morning, he’d be laying on his stomach in the living room with his daughters sitting on either side of him
Christmas movies would be playing in the background, his youngest letting him pick the colors for his hundredth friendship bracelet while his oldest crochets a snowman with a red and green scarf
His daughters are very crafty so they’d enjoy decorating the house and Christmas tree
After Thanksgiving when all of the Christmas stuff is on display, you’d take the girls shopping for lights, ornaments, tinsels, etc.
Alex will lift your youngest daughter so she can string up decorations while your oldest tells her if something needs to be moved to the right or left so everything’s perfectly even
They also like frosting Christmas cookies but instead of just slapping random colors on the cookie, they pick colors that look pretty together and try to be as neat as possible which contradicts their fathers hot mess of an icing job
You wouldn’t be surprised if they decided that they wanted to pick up cookie frosting as a hobby
There are things that Alex was able to do before, like run around with the kids in the snow, that he can’t do now because of his prosthetic leg
The girls don’t mind though, they actually go out of their way to make sure he’s comfortable, even treating him like he’s made out of glass at times despite the fact that he’s still actively fights in Urzikstan
But it’s sweet how much they care about their father and his well-being
While you’re cleaning up after dinner, Alex will wrap his arms around you from behind, his mustache tickling your skin as he presses soft kisses to your neck
He thanks you for dinner and tells you how good the food was
In turn, you tell him how much you and the girls miss him while he’s away, you jokingly add on, “I was hoping your leg would be enough to make you retire.”
He laughs at that and promising you that it won’t be long now, soon he’ll finally return to you and the kids for good
Phillip Graves
Considering he and Shadow Company work for whoever has the most money, you know he can afford anything on his kids Christmas list
He’ll send you a large sum of money while he’s away so you won’t have any trouble buying presents and the gifts he get you are usually quite expensive
In the weeks leading up to Christmas, you two message each other nonstop
You talk about what you got the kids, what you’ll be making for Christmas dinner, when he’s coming home, things like that
He’ll send you flirty text like “you know what I want for Christmas?” with a winky face or “Wear something pretty when I come home.”
The kids are always excited when their father comes home, they tell him what they wrote down on their Christmas list and which gifts they’re really hoping they get
He tells them that they better be good if they want all those presents, knowing damn well that you’ve already bought every single thing on those lists
I feel like he’d prefer a real tree over a fake tree for no other reason besides the fact that it looks better so each year he takes the kids to look at Christmas trees and, of course, the kids along with their father always want the biggest most badass looking tree
He’ll bring a tote bin up from the basement that’s full of last year’s Christmas decorations and you’ll all decorate the tree as a family
You cringe each time you watch pine needles fall as you wrap the tree in lights and tinsel, you know it’ll be a pain to clean up when Christmas is over but you let it happen every year anyway because you see how happy it makes your husband and children
When Graves puts the kids down for bed, you know exactly what he’s gonna do next
He exits the kids bedroom, closing the door behind him, and he’s on you in seconds
His lips capture yours in a heated kiss as he walks you towards your shared bedroom
“We need to wrap the kids’ presents-,” you try to remind him but he cuts you off with a kiss and tells you, “We can do that later, baby.”
photo creds (pinterest): goldeagleactual - ghost, soap/price, farah/alex | SimpsxCod - gaz | cavantine - kate | julikuli666 - graves
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bunnyreaper · 6 months
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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 1 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 5.7k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, eventual romance/smut, medium burn? notes - first part of my owner!soap x pet!reader, woohoo! i already regret writing something centered around texting and calling lmao, crying!! the formatting is killing me!! anyway, also on ao3! and if you wanna send a request, pls do! ♥
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Lonely girl looking for owner. 
Posting on this subreddit again was probably a mistake—but a deep-down part of you clings to the hope that this time will be the time you find someone, the time you get to go home to him. 
At least this time, you'll be better at spotting the signs right off the bat—if only you can take off the rose-tinted glasses long enough to take note.
Your inbox is flooded with the usual kinds of messages—unsolicited pictures, low-effort one-sentence wonders, and so-called doms jumping straight to the part where they call you a nasty whore with no actual consideration for the person you are. 
You're just about to give up, delete the post, and ignore all chat requests when a message arrives in your inbox. 
From: squeakycleanscot 
Subject: Lonely guy looking for girl
Hi,
Saw your post and knew I had to message. You sound like everything I'm looking for and more.
I'm a little younger than the age you put on your post, but I think I fit your other requirements. I'm 27, Scottish (yes, with the accent), and in the army, I hope that's a turn-on rather than a turn-off.
When I'm not deployed, I like cosy nights in, preferably with my love by my side. Don't mind a night at the pub either, especially if there's a Celtic match on, not that anywhere near here shows them. 
I'm looking for something longer term like you mentioned (would love to collar my girl one day, which is probably ironic considering I'm a wee bit scared of dogs.)
Happy to send a picture if you'd like :) 
Hope to hear from you soon, 
Johnny.
Johnny. 
You reread the message, turning his words over in your mind. 
Something about his message has your attention—it at least suggests he has a brain in his head and a heart capable of empathy, and that maybe he's serious. 
You begin typing your reply instantly, your fingers moving so fast you have to type and retype so many parts to rid the message of all of the overexcited mistakes.
hi johnny, 
scottish?! is it bad im already imagining how your dirty talk will sound? 
it's funny, i always wanted to join the army growing up, but it never worked out. maybe it's for the best as now i'm not immune to enjoying a hot man in uniform... which I'm assuming you are ;) 
cosy nights in are my favourite too! I'm a bit of a homebody and love being snuggled up more than anything. i have to let you know in advance that you have some stiff competition in the form of my giant teddy bear, barnaby. 
i'm looking for something longer term too, or at least not a one night kind of thing—a collar one day would be the dream &lt;;3 
if you send a picture, ill send one back, nothing sexy just yet though, if that's okay? 
have you met up with someone off here before? just curious about your experiences! 
y/n
As soon as the message is sent, the overthinking kicks in—was that too much? Is he going to think you're weird? 
You shuffle in bed, turning over between the sheets and trying to flick through other apps as you wait for a reply—otherwise, you'd just be staring at the notifications bar waiting for that silly little robot face to pop up. 
Johnny doesn't leave you waiting long, only a few minutes passing from your last message.
Maybe you'll find out sooner rather than later just how my dirty talk sounds ;) 
I tried to sneak in before I was old enough, but they caught on. Served since I was 18 though, you'll have a lot of stories ready from me if you're ever willing to listen. Not sure if the uniform is anything like you're thinking though, in my unit it's mostly just t-shirts, tac vests and trousers. 
I'll prepare my best snuggling arms for if we ever meet. You should inform Barnaby now about his replacement, mind. 
Can't not send a sexy photo though, sorry lass, all my pictures are. I'm sure you understand, lol
Haven't met anyone, had a few conversations but nothing worth pursuing, and had kind of given up until I saw your post. 
His message is the perfect mix of sexy, sweet, and sincere—and if that is the essence of the man, you know he's everything you're looking for. 
You try not to think too hard about a hot Scottish accent calling you all your favourite names or telling you exactly what to do, or even those stories he has to tell, as the idea is all too exciting. 
Reading his message, you instinctively reach out to pat Barnaby when you see he may end up replaced—hopefully the poor bear will understand when he has to vacate the bed for this sexy soldier man. 
looking forward to it. can I start putting in requests now for bedtime stories too?
i still wanna see, maybe in your sexy-not-sexy pic? 
barnaby will be devastated by the news, and you may have to give him hugs too (but not for too long, or i'll get lonely!!!)
same here, about things not going anywhere... or people turning out to be a bit scary, so you're not allowed to let me down, okay? 
Maybe the last part of the message was too much, but your heart is already soaring with unbridled hope—along with that hope comes doubt too. 
Each second waiting for a reply drags, and you take to re-reading his messages and clicking on his profile to investigate. 
It's largely empty of posts, but there are tons of comments across different communities—including his aforementioned football team, r/Scotland, and eyebleach. 
Clearly, he's a softie at heart. 
When his next message comes through, it's an Imgur link with a short message. 
Here we go, a few months old though now. Don't have anything more recent from work :) 
You take a moment or two to steady yourself before you tap the link. While you definitely feel like you and Johnny have already started to click, if he's not your type then it probably won't go anywhere... 
It's a situation you've been in before—great conversation, similar interests but no physical attraction, and back then you didn't have the heart to break it off straight away.
You tap the link and are greeted by a full-body shot of a tall, well-built man in tactical clothes. His hair is a neatly trimmed mohawk, and while his face isn't crystal clear, he's clearly fucking handsome. His biceps bulge from the gray tee stretched over his torso, his large hands are covered with gloves and grasping a gun.
Your eyes trail to his long legs, thick thighs encased in camo and strapped with various holsters. All in all, the picture is perfect. You find yourself zooming in desperately to get a better look at his face, the handsome jaw lined with stubble that you can already imagine between your legs. The whole image and every new detail has you squirming in your bed, and cheekily wishing to save the image to your phone.
holyfwucj 
holy fuck 
Like what you see? 
i need a hug from you urgently. 
now i feel shy... 
It had crossed your mind ever so slightly that Johnny may be out of your league, or that he simply may not be attracted to someone like you, which would be a complete shame. Now you've set eyes on him, you want him even more—want to kneel at those feet and stare up at his hulking figure while he tugs on a leash around your neck. 
Hopefully, just like you, he'll be smitten from the first glance. 
Scrolling through your camera roll, you decide you don't exactly love any recent photos of yourself. The ones at your last work event have you looking far too corporate, and the only image from your last night out was taking in a bathroom mirror in the local Wetherspoons—neither of which is ideal. 
You crawl out from the warmth of your sheets, kneeling on the end of the bed and posing as you point your camera in the mirror that sits across the room and captures you perfectly. Before you start snapping, you adjust your top to make sure too much isn't on display, even though it's strappy and cropped, and definitely a little bit more on the tantalising side as far as your pyjamas go. 
Hopefully, Johnny likes the pose and the outfit... and you. You can see your smiling face just to the side of your phone as you press to capture the picture—and when you return to your inbox to send the picture link, a message is waiting for you. 
I already know you're gorgeous. Don't leave me hanging, bonnie. 
okay. this is me now, all ready for bed!! 
Holy fuck yourself.
And I'm assuming that's Barnaby in the background. 
If he notices the pose, he doesn't comment on it, instead delighting your heart by commenting on Barnaby instead.
sure is! he's ready for snuggles and sleep. 
Can you do me a favour? 
That message makes your heart skip because usually when something like that is asked, it's followed with a request for nudes or something sexual—and while that is a large part of something like this, you crave the connection first, crave someone actually sticking around and getting to know you. 
depends on what it is!
Tell Barnaby to keep looking after you until I get there, yeah? 
does that mean you're coming for me?
One day, if we're both lucky.
seems promising so far, Johnny. 
Get some sleep, yeah? Maybe tomorrow night I'll give you a bell. 
The idea of this conversation ending is heart-wrenching, but at least sleep will bring you closer to that possible phone call. Hearing his voice, now that will be even more incredible. 
how do you expect me to sleep after telling me that? so mean! 
Patience, bonnie. Be good for me? 
You clench, your thighs squeezing together as arousal rushes through you. It's like he knows exactly how far to go, what buttons to press, what you're looking for.
It's the right kind of commanding, toeing the line perfectly between flirtatious and in charge. A lot of guys you've talked to have rushed it made commands too early, and sent you running. Johnny's words, be good for me? You can't help but want to behave. 
okay, but I see how this is going to be :( 
Bet you look so fucking good with a pout ;) 
now you're just being a cruel tease, Johnny... 
Sorry, I'll stop. Sleep, yeah, for me?
cuddling up to barnaby now. 
You decide to attach another picture, your eyes screwed shut and cheeks squished as you wrap yourself around the bear and cuddle up under the sheets. 
talk tomorrow?
Of course, bonnie, sweet dreams &lt;;3 
You lock your phone, your eyes feeling relieved as they adjust to the darkness. 
For a brief moment, you just clutch your phone to your chest and recall the picture Johnny had sent, how much you'd love to be wrapped up in his arms tonight. 
He's the only thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep.
-//-
Your dreams are tumultuous, starting off with a nightmare of being chased and chased until your legs give out, only for you to find salvation and safety in a stranger's arms—one who seemed vaguely familiar. 
The first thing you do when you wake is roll over to check your phone, elation overtaking you when you see a notification from Johnny already waiting there—already he's blessing you with a good morning message.
Good morning, sweet girl.
Attached under the picture is another image link, and clicking on it brings up an absolutely gorgeous picture of Johnny, lazing in bed. There's just enough light in the room for you to see the brightness of his eyes that you couldn't see before—his mohawk is mussed, and his smile is easy, drawing you in. 
He's even more handsome in this up close photo, you can only imagine what he looks like in person, right before you. 
morning Johnny <3 how did you sleep? 
Like a baby. Yourself? 
not the best, but I swear you were in my dream. 
Sorry to hear that, but oh already? What did I do? 
I mean, it was a bulky guy with a mohawk but he didn't have your name, I think it was meant to be you though. 
You recall the safety you felt in the arms of the strange figure, it was serene, and everything you hope to feel when you find the one—hopefully that's Johnny.
My dreams were shite, you didn't show up. 
i'll try harder to be there tonight!! 
Promise? 
promise. 
God, he's so fucking sweet. It's hard to imagine he's into all the things you mentioned in your initial post, at least right now. But you're all too familiar with how appearances can be deceiving—you wonder what else your sweet Scot is into. 
You peel back the covers and head out into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on mindlessly as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen—not wanting to be even a minute late to answering Johnny's texts, even though it seems there's a natural lull in the conversation. 
You return your focus to making your tea, and your thoughts don't drift from Johnny for even a moment, as you ponder ways to keep the conversation going. Admittedly, you have a million and one questions you want, but you don't want to come across too... eager? clingy? Like some serial killer fiending for information? 
It's crazy the way your heart yearns for him so soon—and it's crazy the way that you wish he feels the same as you do. You wonder how his day is going, and if he's staring at your phone waiting for your message.
With tea brewed, you set it on the coffee table and flop onto the plush couch, rushing to open the app when a new notification pops up.
What's your plan for the day? 
lazy day, binge-watching... texting you? wbu? 
I have to work for a bit, but I'll message you when I can. 
On a weekend? That's horrible, but I imagine they run a tight ship over there. 
You rush to follow up your message with something else. 
will you still be able to call tonight? 
Aye, give me your number, I'll save it! 
You send off your number and don't hear anything from Johnny for a good few hours. You pass the time watching one of your favourite shows, and trying to resist the urge to go scroll down Johnny's profile once more.  
The next time a message pops up, it's well past lunch.
Cute profile pic on whatsapp.
Johnny has clearly added your number to his contacts and spied your picture on the app. You blush thinking of him seeing you in that costume—especially after he knows what you're into.
it was Halloween, I swear!! 
You make an adorable little kitten, lass.
imagination running wild now? ;) 
Aye, but I'm a gent. 
hopefully not always...
Oh, you'll see. Talk to you tonight, kitty. 
talk to you then &lt;;3 
Now you're just itching, waiting for the hours to crawl by for Johnny's workday to end, so you can talk to him again, so you can finally hear his voice. 
What will it sound like saying your name? Whispering sweet nothings in your ears? 
The hours pass slowly until a different notification lights up your phone as you cuddle into your sheets.
Hey, it's Johnny! Just got home. 
You scramble to click on the pop-up, spying his own profile picture in the corner—tapping on it to view it closer. 
It's the Johnny you recognise, smiling wide with his arm slung around another man. He looks so ridiculously happy, probably due to the pint in his other hand. The more you look at him, the more you can't believe you're talking to this man, that he wants to talk to you. 
You quickly add him to your contacts, putting a heart next to his name, before you return to the chat and begin to type.
i'm not the only one with a cute pfp!! 
Three sheets to the wind in that picture, actually.
i can tell &lt;3
Ready to call? 
whenever you're ready!
The image of him floods your screen, the screen pulsing as it waits for you to accept. Your fingers tremble as you press the button, and you fall silent as you press the phone to your ear, nerves gripping at your throat. 
"Hi, bonnie." His voice drifts from the phone speaker, sweet like honey and warm like sunshine, with that gorgeous accent too. 
"Hi." You squeak out, silently cursing at yourself for being so nervous and seemingly unable to speak. 
A melodic laugh follows your words, amused but not cruel or mocking. "Are you nervous?" His voice is soothing, his concern and sweet nature evident. 
You cradle your burning cheek, feeling the way your blush spreads across your smiling face. "Just a little, can you blame me?" 
He's laughing again, and you hear a shuffling noise that suggests he's getting comfortable. "Don't be, I'll look after yer, I promise." 
Fuck. You could get used to hearing that. "I really like your voice." You admit, whispering into the phone with a ridiculous grin on your face. 
"I like yours too, you sound so sweet." 
You drop your voice lower, giggling mischievously. "Only sometimes." 
"That's what I like ta hear." The way Johnny's voice dips as he says that has your insides fluttering, but you can only assume he's returning the favour. His tone returns to its usual charming tone as he asks, "How was your lazy day?" 
"Well, I kind of spent a fair bit of it distracted, thinking about this important call I was going to have tonight..." 
"Oh aye, I should get off the phone so you can wait then." 
"Funny. How was yours? What do you even do day to day, anyway?" You ask, voice brimming with curiosity—there are so many things you want to ask, but you imagine his job can be secretive. 
"Lots of training, and sometimes paperwork, which is right shite." 
"Not when you don't have someone under the desk keeping you company." You laugh, taking the chance to flirt. If you were into Johnny after reading his messages, actually hearing his voice is only making your attraction soar. 
A quiet fuck can be heard, as the man on the end of the phone heaves out a breath. "I'll have ta look into getting you clearance if you keep talking like that, lass." 
"Glad to be of service, what can I say?" You find yourself in a giggle fit at your own silliness, a mix of nerves and joy at enjoying yourself so much.
"God, I love yer laugh." The deep sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. 
The drug that is Johnny is already so intoxicating. 
"I'm so glad you can't see me blushing." 
"I'm no'." He sounds so indignant about that. "But I could listen to that laugh all day, really."
If only he could see you pout too. "Now you're just trying to make me blush more." 
He chuckles, his voice dropping dangerously flirtatious again. "Maybe I am, nothing you can do about it."
"Now I'm pouting." 
"Better not pout in front of me, lass." His suggestive tone makes you shiver. 
"Oh, why's that?" You ask, playing coy. 
"'Cause I'll just have to start kissing ya, might even nibble on those soft little lips." 
You suppress a delighted squeak, already so flustered at even the idea of a kiss. "I'm not hearing a downside." 
"No?" 
"Nope." 
"Might not be gentle with you, though." 
"Good thing that I like it rough." The words are out of you before you can reconsider, but they have exactly the effect you intend as you hear Johnny inhale sharply.
"Ach, you and yer wicked mouth." 
"You have no idea..." 
He lets out a rough exhale, his voice turning gravelly and deep. "Fuck, bonnie." 
"Hey, I'm only repaying the favour, I've been squirming desperately pretty much since I picked up the phone." 
He whistles approvingly, his voice now teasing and playfully menacing. "Just you wait til I'm really in ya head." 
"You're already making good progress." You admit.
"Oh aye?" 
You hum contentedly, eyes flickering shut for a moment. "I'll be imagining your voice as I fall asleep tonight." 
"I'll just have ta send yer voice notes to drift off to, so I can end up in your dreams again." You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. 
"Already spoiling me, too." 
Fuck, how is it this man seems to know exactly what to say? Everything that comes out of his mouth takes root in your brain and sends your thoughts running wild—it's like he's already in your head, or as if someone made him in a lab.
"I'll spoil ya every day, if you're ever mine." 
You groan in frustration, unbelieving that a stranger can be so seemingly perfect. "How are you even single, Johnny?" 
"I could ask you the same. Taking everything in me to not ask for an address right now, if I'm being honest." He huffs a laugh. 
While the idea is thrilling, you know you should have at least some sense of preservation, and shouldn't blurt out your postcode for this strange man you barely know. "I'm worth the wait, I swear." You whisper your promise. 
"I'm sure yer are. But to answer your question, my work keeps me busy a lot, and this lifestyle isn't for everyone." There's a hint of vulnerability to his voice, and you sense such a fact is a sore point in his personal life. 
In the fantasy of all of this, you suppose the reality of the situation isn't something you'd stopped to consider. Life for a man in the military was surely so different from a regular 9-5. "I'm guessing that you're away a lot?" 
"Aye, sometimes for just a few days, sometimes for months, all depends." His admission is soft, as if you can hear in his tone that he's waiting for you to bolt. 
If that's the big 'catch' when it comes to Johnny, you can breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I guess you need someone strong and loyal to hold on and wait for you." 
There's a tense silence, something lingering in the air. 
"Hard to come by, I've found." 
The thought makes your stomach twist in the worst possible way. Johnny, at least on the surface, seems so worthy of love. 
You chance the question that's on the tip of your tongue, hoping Johnny doesn't mind your reckless curiosity. "Have... you been cheated on?" 
"More than once, gets less surprising over the years." He finishes with a sad laugh, as you can tell he tries to infuse humour into the whole thing. 
"That's... horrible." 
Being sent away from your home to face gunfire and warfare, all to keep the people back home safe... only to be betrayed by the people back home who love you, who are supposed to wait for you. It's a gut-wrenching thought, and your heart aches for the man.
"A few of the lads here have a similar story." 
"So the army, not for the faint of heart, and dating an army man, not for the faint of heart." You sigh, though you don't feel put off by the thought.  
"Exactly. That you then? Faint of heart?" 
"No. I mean, inside I'm clingy as hell, and I'd miss you like crazy every day until you got back..." Your emotions overtake you, as you imagine a future where you'd have to kiss the man goodbye for maybe months at a time. "But I get the feeling that what we could have would be worth the wait. Hypothetically of course." 
At that, Johnny laughs, and his light tone returns. "Don't want to get too far ahead of ourselves, aye." 
You don't want to get ahead of yourself, you know you shouldn't, but the way you and Johnny have clicked is unlike anything you've felt before. "But... I have a good feeling." 
"I do too, already dreading putting down the phone." 
"I'm not planning on it anytime soon, even if I have to be up early tomorrow." 
"So do I, alarms set for 4." 
You do not envy his lifestyle one bit.
"That's awful! I'm gonna be so cranky tomorrow, I might have to use my lunch break for a nap." You admit, preemptively yawning into your hand. 
"You one of those perpetually sleepy girls?" 
You nod, even though he can't see it. "The sleepiest." 
"Barnaby is a lucky bear, getting to cuddle up to you so much." 
You burst out laughing at the hint of envy in his words. "Are you... jealous?"
"For now, but soon the tables will turn." He faked an evil laugh, that only makes you giggle harder. 
"Oh, you think you can give better snuggles than him?" 
"Oh, I know I can, bonnie. The bear can't wrap his arms around yer, can't whisper sweet things in your ear..." His voice dips back into that seductive, teasing tone. "... Can't trail his hands down to that pretty little pussy." 
Once more, you flush with desire, every nerve alight as Johnny's words wash over you—although it seems like almost everything he says has your body reacting. "You have an interesting way of cuddling, Johnny."
"Didnae say I was actually gonna do anything once my hands got down there." 
"Well, I wouldn't be opposed." 
"When you're in my arms, you wouldn't have a choice, lass." The dark, dominant voice makes you shiver, makes your submissive instincts awaken. 
"Oh yeah?" 
He hums slowly. "Once you're mine, you leave the choices to me. Johnny knows best, yeah?" 
"Johnny knows best." You whisper breathlessly, the words coming out automatically, like they just feel right.
"Steamin' Jesus, can already tell yer gonna be the death of me." 
"Can't have that, your family won't get your death in service payout!" You laugh awkwardly, before a sense of guilt rears its head. "Sorry, grim joke." 
"I don't mind. You should hear some of the ones my Lt. comes out with, he's a right sick bastard." He chuckles.
"Never want to make light of it and hurt you, though." 
"Telling jokes makes it easier hen, you'll be wishing me dead in no time at all."  
You gasp, shocked by the prospect. "I'd never!" 
"Not even when I deny you from touching yourself for my entire deployment? Months of nothing at all?" The sick grin is evident in his voice. 
"You wouldn't, that's so mean. You're too sweet for that." 
"Aye, for now, but don't you like a little bit of meanness, if yer into men like me..." The edge to his voice and the truth to your words has you trembling. 
"Maybe..." You singsong in response, not wanting to give away just how much you liked the idea of his mean side. 
"Bonnie..." He tuts disapprovingly. "Don't play coy." 
You shudder out a breath as you squeeze your thighs together for relief. "I just don't want you to bully me too much right now, I'm already soaked." 
"Is that right?" He seems delightfully surprised by such a revelation. 
"Mhmm." 
"I'm fucking rock hard if it helps, think I have been since last night..." You hear him shuffle, and you try not to imagine what's happening on the other end of the line, or how he looks lying in bed with said hardness.
When he groans hungrily down the line, you feel yourself quake once more. "The sight of you on your fucking knees... Christ alive." 
You can't help but giggle at your unintended teasing. "It wasn't on purpose, I thought it was cute more than anything." 
"Adorable and naughty, could cum just looking at it." He huffs. 
"You're just flattering me, besides, I could say the same about your picture."
Every part of you flushes thinking of the first photo he sent, all muscle and alpha male—it's like he was the physical embodiment of dominance, and just looking at him makes you want to kneel.
"You like the military get up?" 
"Love it, more than I probably should." 
"Oh aye, bet you'd love for me to order you around?" His words are playful, but underpinned with a hint of promise. "All in due time, eh?" 
"All in due time. What's your rank, anyway?" 
"Sergeant." 
"Wait..." You take a deep breath as you consider your question. "Can I ask for your last name or is it too soon?" 
"Mactavish."
Johnny Mactavish—you should remember to give that a quick Google search later.
"Sergeant Mactavish." You test the name on your tongue, trying to imagine him at work, following and giving orders. 
"Sounds too good when you say it, bonnie." He laughs. 
"Thank you, sergeant." Your affectation of the word is entirely intentional, as you attempt to rile him up with the use of his title. 
The throaty groan that leaves him is addictive.
"What else do you like to be called?" 
"Depends on what you want to call me really, but I like... sir." 
"I like it too, will have to remember that for the future, and just torture you with sergeant in the meantime." You can't help but giggle as you flirt. 
"Oh don't worry, am keeping score." He growls playfully. "Wait til I get ma hands on you, bonnie." 
"You're keeping score?" You gasp, a heady mix of fear and arousal coursing through you almost urges you to be even more of a teasing brat.
"Aye, spanking arm at the ready." 
"My pouting lips are ready." 
"Won't be the only thing you use them lips for."
Fuck fuck fuck. Not that you hadn't thought about it already, hadn't already let your mind drift to what his cock might look like—whether it matches the size of the man—now you're definitely thinking about it. Fixated on it, craving it. 
Some cards are best kept close to your chest so early on, so you change tack and go a different direction with his flirtation. "Yeah, with you in the room, I'd probably be smiling a whole lot." 
The two of you continue to chat, you asking what you can about his work as he asks about yours, and you fill him in on the boring world you live in, which seems especially boring in comparison to taking down cartels and traveling the world.
The conversation never stops being easy, the flirtation and innuendo always right there at the tip of your tongues as you tease each other relentlessly—giving as good as you get. All night, you're practically grinding against your duvet as you get lost in Johnny's dulcet tones, and you find yourself just letting him speak for the sake of getting to hear more of his voice.
As Johnny is about to ask you more about your background, you're overcome with a harsh yawn that you desperately try to stifle. Your eyes have been shut for the last hour at least, but with the command Johnny has over your nervous system right now, it's been easy to stay awake. 
"Tired, bonnie?" He asks, voice laced with sweet concern.
"Yeah..." Your voice falls quiet, as the thought of ending the call makes your throat constrict. "But I don't wanna stop talking." 
"Me either, but av got bad news." 
You know what's coming, and you know it isn't remotely anywhere near the end of the world, despite what your heart is telling you right now. "Go on." 
"I have to go." Even he sounds sad about such an outcome. 
"It's not even that late?" The clock reads 2 am. 
"Gotta get a wee bit of sleep before I hit the gym, and then get off ta work. Don't you have work too?" 
"Work from home tomorrow, so it's not too bad. Not fair though, I wanna keep talking." You admit quietly. It's too much too soon, but you're overwhelmed, the tide of your emotions crashing over the edges.
"Tell yer what. Next time we call, we can try leaving it on while we sleep."
Your heart flips, as you almost whimper at how cute the gesture is. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"
"Obviously." There's that gorgeous laugh again. "Is it working?" 
"Just a little, but that might be the lack of sleep talking, I might be going slightly insane." 
Johnny sighs, and it's clear he's battling to keep a handle on his self-control. "Rest, bonnie, I won't be able to work knowing you're not sleepin'" 
You sigh too, accepting your fate. "Okay, just for you." 
"Just want what's best for you, you need your sleep."  
Your head spins at how utterly sincere he sounds—the care in his voice after such a short amount of time serves to drive you even deeper into this infatuation. "Already?" 
"Can't turn it off, am just protective by nature, bonnie. If you were my girl, you'd have a bedtime." 
And that makes your cunt clench and your heart soar. "Johnny..." You whine.
"Yeah?" 
You hesitate to say what you want to say next, but everything within you is calling out for him, desperate to be in his arms. "Don't make me wait too long to meet you, please." 
His laughter is sweet, conveying a sense of understanding more than anything. "I'll try ma best, supposed to be off on Friday." 
"5 whole days."
"Sure you don't wanna wait a bit longer?" 
You shake your head, mumbling a sound to convey your feelings. "Feels right, don't know how to describe it... do you feel it too?" 
Johnny takes a deep breath, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks. "I do, lass." 
"Good." You couldn't even attempt to fight the idiotic grin on your face, or how warm you feel inside and out. "I'll get some sleep, talk soon." 
"Goodnight, bonnie. Sweet dreams."  
You wait for Johnny to end the call, not wanting to push the button yourself and have his presence fade away. When your screen dims, you resist the urge to text him more, opting instead to put your phone on charge and roll over to Barnaby—wishing it was Johnny instead. 
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winksasleeplesseye · 1 year
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A/N: I wrote this for my OC and Leon but decided to rework it to be reader fic (bc I’m nice like that but don’t be surprised if I end up posting that one as well at some point).
MINORS DNI!
Pairing: Post!RE4R!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader
Summary: Leon’s home resting from Spain, Jill invites you out but Leon wants you to stay in but you’re not budging, luckily for Leon, he’s always up for a challenge.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: straight up smut, oral (f receiving), Leon being hot
————————————————————————
You sat at the vanity, putting on the finishing touches of your makeup and your outfit. Jill had invited you out on the town since she was visiting, a momentary return to normalcy you both seriously needed.
From the corner of your eye, you could see Leon sprawled out on your shared bed.
If he wasn’t wearing his comfiest pair of sweats and an obscure band tee, you probably would’ve thought he was posing for a spread in Playgirl. Either way, you’d always want to climb all over him like a tree.
His eyes flitted back and forth between pages of a mission report, a pair of reading glasses perched at the tip of his nose, clearly not helping with reading.
“You know, it’s not too late for you to get dressed to come with me.” You offer, but you already know exactly what he’ll say.
“Or you can stay in with me,” You looked at him from the reflection in the mirror, he was making the cutest pout face in your direction.
Raccoon City and now Spain had changed you both in different ways fundamentally. Leon had become more of a homebody, while you didn’t mind going out into the world, had everything occurred differently, you imagined he’d come with. Yet, you couldn’t fault him for it, the hells and horrors you both endured certainly weren’t normal.
“That won’t work on me, Kennedy, I know your ways,” You laughed.
Papers shuffling and the springs of the mattress dipping sound behind you. “Oh, really?”
One thing you occasionally forget is that Leon Scott Kennedy is never one to back down from a challenge. And right now? His challenge is clear.
Leon is quick to wrap his arms around your middle, bringing you up to a standing position crushed against his front. He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, placing hot, open mouthed kisses against it.
The helpless sound that escapes your lips is equal parts pleasure and annoyance. “You evil man.”
He lets out the sexiest chuckle as his lips travel over all the exposed skin you have on display. The butterfly top you’d gotten only recently is now already disheveled as Leon works a hand underneath the cup of the fabric, rolling a nipple between his fingers.
You turned your head, pulling Leon into a frenzied kiss before pulling away for mere seconds only to face him fully in the kiss.
Your phone, a slim black Nokia was going off in your back pocket but quite frankly you were more lost in your fingers exploring underneath Leon’s clothes as he did the same to you. Jill would just have to wait.
Leon’s hands gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you with an ease that shouldn’t have been so sexy but it was.
Challenge? Oh, who were you kidding? You barely put up a fight. Leon knew exactly what would convince you every time.
“You really thought you could go out, looking like that?” he asked huskily, wrapping your legs around his slim waist.
Feeling particularly wicked, you answer with a smirk, “Yes.”
You felt victorious but that was going to be short-lived, Leon practically threw you down on the mattress, no care for the papers that now laid all over the floor.
You tried to contain your excitement as Leon undid the buttons to your black jeans, just barely ripping them off of you. Your underwear wasn’t so lucky, the flimsy material now laid on the floor alongside Leon’s papers.
For a moment, you shudder at the feeling of being bare.
You didn’t even have to wonder what Leon would do next; he was already sinking down to his knees, pausing long enough only to pull you to the edge of the bed. He didn’t give you any time to prepare yourself. His broad shoulders shoved your legs apart and his mouth was on your in an instant.
“Oh, shit, Leon,” You breathed. Your head fell back against the mattress as his mouth explored your folds. Your fingers found their way to his hair where they tangled themselves in his blonde locks with abandon.
Leon’s tongue licked kittenish and broad stripes up your pussy, earning him a tug that had him letting loose a small groan against your core. He’d always liked his hair pulled, but he seemed to like it even more now.
You couldn’t think of anything but Leon, focusing all your attention on looking at the man between your legs to find that his blue eyes already bore into you, watching for every single reaction, certainly feeling some gratification that he’s always able to do all of this to you.
His tongue alternated between licking between your folds and disappearing deep inside you. Occasionally his nose would brush your clit but he seemed to be ignoring it on purpose, driving you nearly mad with need.
“Leon, baby, please,” You pathetically whimper, eyes heavily lidded gazing needily at the man between your legs.
He gave you one last long, sinful lick before gazing up at you through lust-blown eyes. Clearly, you didn’t have to wonder if he enjoyed pleasuring you like this.
“You’re gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, sweetheart. Now, what do you want?” he asked.
You bit your lip, you really didn’t want to voice your thoughts out loud, considering Leon knows your body so well, but you both knew he wasn’t going to budge until you said it. So, you caved. “I need your mouth on my clit. Ple-“
His tongue darted out and swirled around the engorged bud, instantly drawing a loud moan from your lips. you clapped a hand over your mouth, not wanting the entire building to hear you. “Like that?” he asked salaciously, looking up at you with now nearly black eyes, pupils overtaking the blue color. Before you could answer his mouth found your clit again, giving it a gentle suck. A strangled cry left your mouth and he relented to lavish the rest of you with deft licks.
“You really are an evil man,” You murmured fondly. You could practically feel him grin. To hell with Jill, this way was more important. You knew she’d probably be a little mad to be blown off for a few hours but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care; it felt too damn good.
In mere minutes, Leon had reduced you to a pile of jello on the mattress, you were pretty sure that your hand was the only thing keeping you from screaming your euphoria to the high heavens. “L-Leon, baby, I’m so fucking close-Oh my-ah!”
“That’s it. Come on my tongue,” he whispered filthily. Your breathing became unstable, vocal cords shaky as Leon’s name spilled feebly from your mouth; your toes curled, your legs shook as your thighs clamped down on his head as your orgasm sent your body off the edge of the earth.
Your fingers tugged sharply on his hair and his resulting moan felt like it resonated throughout your whole body. He worked his tongue over your clit until the sensation was obviously overwhelming then switched to spearing you with it, moaning as though you were the best thing he’d ever tasted.
When you were spent he finally ceased, standing slowly and removing your shirt in one fluid motion. “You’d better call Jill and apologize now,” he wore a proud grin, hands pulling up his shirt.
God, you love this man.
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missbabyjay · 1 year
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A Night Out - Pedro Pascal x F Reader
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SMUT BABY SMUT
MASTERLIST - CHECK OUT MY PAGE FOR MORE!
I am so feral I don't know where this piece came from but I hope you all enjoy it lmao
Warnings/Content: Explicit, Smut, Domination, Rough, Unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy y'all), Age gap, Alcohol
Summary: You attend an event with Pedro to celebrate TLOU. When a stranger gets too close Pedro feels the need to show you that you're his, and only his.
Word Count: 2.6 K
I am taking requests <3
. . .
The sun was beginning to fade, letting you know your time was running short. You groaned, hesitating to begin getting ready. Doing your hair and makeup took effort that you couldn’t work up at the moment, and you didn’t even want to go out in the first place.
Pedro just finished filming, meaning there were many events for him to attend - for promo as well as celebration. You wanted to be a supportive girlfriend by attending the events with him, but you weren’t the going out type. You enjoyed staying in, cozying up in your housecoat with a cup of tea, of course, while you created your own reality through your passion for writing. You enjoyed being a homebody and so did Pedro at times, but things were different tonight. 
You finally pushed through the lack of motivation and found yourself propped up in front of the large mirror that resided in your washroom. You started with your hair, slicking it back into a tight, low bun. You followed by applying some light makeup - just enough to flatter your natural beauty. The event you were attending was formal, so you figured it would be fun to wear some jewellery that you didn’t typically reach for on a regular day. You grabbed a pair of long, dangly earrings. The diamonds shined as they were met with the bright lights of the bathroom. You struggled with a dainty necklace, but after a few tries you were able to open the clasp making you able to place it around your neck.
You were face to face with yourself in the mirror, analysing every feature. You felt a rush of confidence pour over you, and suddenly you felt excited to attend the party. You shimmied on your dress of choice - a short, all black, off the shoulder dress that hugged your curves oh, so perfectly. You paired the dress with some short heels and made your way to the kitchen. You were eager to see Pedro, knowing how weak his knees would become the second he saw you.
This was one of the first events you were attending with him since you began seeing each other. You felt your nerves rattle inside of you as you opened your liquor cabinet - “A drink should help,” you muttered to yourself. You grabbed the clear, stubby bottle of patron from the highest shelf, perched on your tippy toes. “Perfect”. You popped the cork off of the bottle and poured a generous serving into a low glass. You grabbed a few ice cubes from the fridge and popped them in the glass to mingle with the liquor. You thought about drinking it on the rocks for a second, as your nerves were bouncing off the walls, but maybe a mixer was in your best favour instead. 
The first sip graciously coated your throat, instantly calming your nerves. You were caught off guard when there was a pattern of knocks placed on your front door. “Pedro”, you lovingly said. You quickly downed the rest of your drink, hoping you wouldn’t regret that choice later on. The moment finally came; your clammy palms quickly grabbed for the cold door handle. Your face immediately became flushed as Pedro stood before you - he looked dashing. An all black suit covered him, tight enough that you could see his toned body popping through the sleeves. You couldn’t deny you felt yourself becoming heated in your sweet spot.
“Mi amor, you look so gorgeous,” he said in a husky tone, snapping you out of your daze. You blushed, as he reached his arm around your waist pulling you in to meet his soft, tender lips. You were expecting a friendly peck, but Pedro intensified the kiss while pulling you as close as he could possibly get you - yearning for the two of you to become one. His hand travelled to your ass, viciously gripping it, transferring a moan from your mouth to his. He finally pulled back, showing a cheeky grin after seeing the shocked look plastered across your face when you realised the two of you were practically standing in the hallway - visible to any passing neighbours. 
“C’mon sugar, we’ve gotta get going… the party started 20 minutes ago,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck. You giggled, hastily grabbing your purse and locking your front door. 
… 
The uber pulled to the curb in front of a condominium in Manhattan. When you exited the car your eyes followed up the tall, glistening building that towered over the street. “Wow,” you shockingly expressed. Pedro chuckled, “Here we are!” He gently grabbed your hand and led you towards the entrance. The party was far more glamorous than you had imagined - it was located on the rooftop of a high-class building. As you peered over the edge your eyes were met with the majestic skyline of New York City. The view was hypnotising. You weren’t from NYC originally, as you grew up in a small rural town, making this the first time you’ve seen a view like this. 
The party was crowded, you recognized a few faces; those who were a part of TLOU and others who were simply there to celebrate their successful friends. The warm summer night was paired with a light breeze causing enough goosebumps for you to nuzzle into Pedro. Eventually you parted ways making a trip to the open bar, “Props to whoever made this happen,” you mumbled as you set yourself up on a padded bar stool. You ordered a paloma, nice and simple for a beautiful summer night. You glanced around the party watching passionate conversations filled with laughter. You didn’t enjoy going out often but you enjoyed people watching - it soothes your soul.
You decided to enjoy your drink alone at the bar to give Pedro some time to catch up with his castmates. You caught a glimpse of Pedro and he sent you a little wink, making your cheeks heat up. You loved that man, and you especially loved how he wasn’t embarrassed to be in public with you. The two of you had a significant age gap, nothing worrying, but you figured most people would be judgy. Pedro felt the need to be your protector - he loved keeping you safe. 
As you were finishing up your drink you hopped off the stool and ordered another, alongside a beer to bring to Pedro. An arm wrapped around your waist making you jolt, as you turned your head you expected to see Pedro’s face but instead you met a stranger’ face, “Um- Can I help you?” you said as you removed yourself from the man’s hold. “What’s a pretty little girl like you doing at a party like this? I don’t see your face on any billboards,” he slurred, pushing a cocktail your way. You could smell the copious amounts of liquor he had obviously consumed. “I am here with my boyfriend. I appreciate the gesture but, no thank you,” you signalled “no” with your hand.
The man continued blabbering his mouth off until you were pulled aside - this time you knew it was Pedro. “Hey buddy, how about you leave my girlfriend alone,” Pedro’s voice filled with aggression while he tightly gripped you. “You’re the boyfriend? Pfft, yeah okay big shot,” the man said as he rolled his eyes and turned away from the two of you. Pedro’s grasp was still tight on you as he turned to you. “You okay, sugar?” his hot breath cascading across your neck, his grip still tight around your upper arm. He slipped his other arm around your waist pulling you close to him once again. Your eyes lingered between his chocolate brown eyes and his plush, pink lips. His arm travelled from your upper arm to your neck, keeping a tight grip around you.
You felt an intense ache begin between your legs, your cunt beginning to drip - moistening your tiny little panties. He came close to you once again, “I need you now,” he demanded. He forcefully led you towards the bathrooms, your knees instantly weakening making you struggle to keep up with Pedro. Typically this would not be your cup of tea, but these washrooms were elegantly decorated - pristine.
As soon as the two of you entered the small room Pedro locked the door. He viciously pushed you against the wall and began using his hands to explore your body. You were holding back moans in fear of anyone hearing while they passed the bathroom, although the party was rather loud. His hot, chiselled body was pressed tight against you, leaving no space between your chests. His hands travelled from your sides down to the bottom hem of your dress where he began to teasingly grip it, “I’m gonna show you that you’re mine, and only mine tonight,” he instructed while grazing his teeth against your neck. You could tell the incident from earlier made a wave of jealousy wash over him and you weren’t mad about it - you loved this side of him.
Your hands trailed upwards to his brown curls, twirling and gripping them between your fingers. Pedro moaned into your neck, he loved when you played with his hair. He finally lifted your dress, exposing your bottom half which was only covered with a lacy g-string. He growled as he looked down, raising his hand to grip your throat - his grip was even tighter than before. You gasped for air as he ran his pointer finger over your clothed pussy, feeling the wetness that had already accumulated, “already?” he tsked, as he pushed your panties to the side. His finger gently traced your folds, teasing you every second. “My hands look so good around you, mi amor” he hissed into the air. 
You couldn’t contain yourself as he held you by your throat and toyed with your sweet spot. You were loving every second of him dominating you; you loved Pedro’s sweetness but his roughness was your favourite. You were shocked when Pedro ripped off your panties in one swift motion, leaving a somewhat burning feeling against your skin - you enjoyed it. “Did that hurt?” he genuinely asked, “No,” you moaned out. No matter how rough Pedro was with you he always checked in on you, he was so sweet.
As you grasped at his shoulders to help keep you stable he inserted one single finger inside of you, slowly teasing away causing you to ache even more for him. “Fuck”, you let out hoarsly. Pedro smirked, “Such a little slut,” he taunted before quickly adding another finger. You felt your knees buckle beneath you as you ran out of energy to keep yourself standing. Pedro removed his fingers causing you to let out a disappointed moan. He lowered himself and placed your right leg over his shoulder. Your breath hitched as he looked at you from below, gliding his lips across your dripping core. You squirmed, causing Pedro to grip at your hips forcefully making you stay still - or at least attempting to. 
His tongue began to lap away at your folds, teasing your aching bud every once and a while until he decided to move his focus there. Your eyes squeezed shut as he circled his tongue around your sensitive area, causing a knot to start forming deep within your lower stomach. Your hips began to jerk against Pedro’s face, longing for more friction as you chased your orgasm. Pedro quickened the pace of his tongue, driving you to an out of body experience as your muscles tensed and you reached your high. 
Your skin tingled as you attempted to catch your breath, but Pedro didn’t give you a chance as he stood up and stuck the two fingers that he pleased you with into your mouth, forcing you to indulge in the taste of yourself. “Good girl,” he said as he removed your fingers and licked them himself, “you taste so good,” he praised. “Up,” he demanded as he signalled for you to jump, wrapping your legs around his waist as he gripped your ass. He led you to the counter and placed himself in between your wet thighs. You wondered where your underwear were for a second before Pedro pulled them from his pocket, “Gotta keep you quiet for this,” he purred as he smirked at you. Suddenly Pedro placed your dainty panties within your mouth, “Holy shit,” you thought to yourself as you nearly melted into a pile of nothing.
Pedro unbuttoned his clothing above his waist leaving his soft tanned skin exposed. You ran your fingers from his pecks to his waistline, swiftly helping him remove his belt. He pulled his pants as well as his boxers down just enough to expose his aching cock. You spared no time and took him into your hands, slowly massaging him as his head tilted downwards. He let out an animalistic growl, removing your hands and giving himself a few pumps before he lined himself up with your soaking wet core. He slid the tip of his cock in between your folds a few times; moistening himself with your sweet liquids. His eyes met yours and he filled you in one easy motion. You bit down on your panties, gripping the sides of the counter you sat upon. Pedro was generous, giving a few slow thrusts before he hastily picked up the speed of his movements. He gripped your hips allowing him to have more control of how your bodies moved together. You looked down to watch his cock disappearing inside of you, causing your eyes to roll as he hit the perfect spot. 
The sounds of your bare skin making contact filled the room and you felt overwhelmed with pleasure. Pedro grasped the back of your head bringing his forehead to yours, not once breaking eye contact as he mercilessly pounded your pussy. “Come for me again, sugar,” he demanded. He gripped your ass and slightly lifted you off the counter, allowing him to pull your bottom half closer to him every time he thrusted into you. Your arms held yourself up on the counter as you felt the rush of warmth reach your lower stomach once again causing you to lose all composure. You reached your climax causing you to scream out, thankfully the panties muffled it - slightly. 
You attempted to collect yourself as you came down, feeling Pedro’s thrusts becoming sloppier. You bit your lip while you stared him down knowing your eyes made him crazy, “Fuck baby, I-I’m gonna fill you up,” he stuttered, struggling to get his words out as he too was quick to reaching his high. “Come for me, daddy,” you purred, causing Pedro to send you a devilish smirk before he was pushed over the edge, closing his eyes as he threw his head backwards.
He remained in you for a moment while the both of you caught your breath. You removed your panties, “Damn baby”, you exclaimed. Pedro giggled at your reaction. He pulled out of you, allowing you to hop off the counter so you could clean yourself up. He placed a kiss on your temple, while the two of you readjusted yourselves, trying to fix your hair and makeup so nothing looked too off. “You are so good, princesa,” he cooed to you as he pulled you into a loving embrace, “I’m so lucky you’re mine”. You tighten your arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his chest.
You patted down your dress and slightly fixed your hair as Pedro peeked his head out of the door to see if the coast was clear. “We’re good to go,” he reached for your hand - intertwining your fingers with his. The two of you made your way to the bar, most definitely needing some hydration after that.
Tags: @purplerain85
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