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#like it’s easy to find things to complain about but i think the idea that these tangible reminders exist that we are
tommykinard6 · 2 days
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I don't mean to pile onto your bad day but I've been seeing a lot of creators on tiktok complain/compare the bucktommy and henren tags/fic count on ao3 because there's almost more bucktommy fics then there are henren fics. The number one claim is always that bucktommy writers are racist because we don't write for henren. But like, that's not correct at all? People can write fanfiction for whatever they want to. If they want to see more henren stuff then they can write it on their own.
We can coexist without fighting each other. I'm just tired of people screaming about how bucktommy is anti this or anti that, when we're just vibing by ourselves and don't want the drama but the drama finds us anyway because Sucky People are loud and get heard the most.
You’re good, anon. It actually gave me something to think about during work.
As a quick disclaimer, before we begin, I’m not a POC. I am not speaking for anyone in the Black community and am not attempting to speak over them. My following thoughts are as a queer woman-ish who is also a writer.
I think it must be noted that Hen and Karen have been overlooked since day one. The fact that Buck coming out made it the “gay firefighter show” when we’ve had a beautiful canonical lesbian couple since the very beginning? Is only proof. Is this proof of racism in the fandom? Maybe. Quite possibly. I would argue that it comes from a misogynistic point as well.
If you look in any fandom, regardless of the color of their skin, any wlw ship is horribly overlooked. I’ve done some tag searching on ao3. Straight and mlm ships battle for dominance while there are canonical and fanonical wlw ships that have a drastic difference in numbers. This isn’t a good thing. But it’s an experience that spans fandoms.
I find it sad that BuckTommy has almost more fics, with only two episodes under their belt, than Henren with 7 seasons. However, this isn’t a reason to hate on BuckTommy. The ship didn’t do anything wrong. Comparison is the thief of joy and it’s also rage bait. I think that some creators simply are using anything they can to hate on BuckTommy. Which that makes it sadder, that they aren’t concerned about Henren other than pushing their own agenda.
This isn’t to say all creators who are speaking about this are doing this, but I guarantee some are.
Now, let me speak as a writer.
As someone with 62 published fics on ao3, I write almost exclusively mlm ships. This isn’t because I hate women. And as a queer woman-ish, don’t even start about homophobia. But for some reason, I find it so much easier to write men than I do to write women. This is true for straight and wlw ships and also just in general. I love Henren, but I don’t have the faintest idea about how to write them.
It’s hard enough to write as it is and I’m already writing on ships that are easy for me. I try to write women and it just hasn’t come out right. I want to challenge myself, branch out, and maybe I’ll write for Henren to do that. But I say all this to point out that for some people like me, writing some ships and demographics of ships are just a little more difficult.
That leads me into something else.
I, as a white person, worry about accidentally writing non-white characters wrong. And this was reinforced not too long ago when we had that whole thing on ao3 with deliberate racism in 9-1-1 fics. If anyone has resources or advice for writing non-white characters, I would love to hear that! The last thing I want to do is cause any harm.
I feel like I’ve spoken a lot about me, but that’s because I can’t really speak for anyone else. I can only speak from my experience.
We already have a ship war between BuckTommy and Buddie. We don’t need to pit more people against each other. I think we can love BuckTommy while agreeing that Henren needs to be seen and appreciated and treated equally.
End note to say: I tried to speak as delicately and as sensitively as I could, but if anything came out wrong, please feel free to point it out (kindly). Again, I speak for no one but my very little section of the world. I’m interested to hear what people of other backgrounds have to add!
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bread-of-death · 3 months
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Oh my god I might get to take my friend on a date EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK
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favroitecrime · 3 months
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not much to say here just that the juxtaposition of having the privilege to complain about doordash vs… yeah.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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...
#ok so like this is fine bc im not in a horrible mood rn. this is more i feel like complaining bc what im doing is kinda ridiculous#but my memory is so bad that ill probably forget if i dont write it out. but basically 4 days a week i have to come in starting at 7.30 to#water and prep for measurements. then from 9am to 6.15pm i have to nonstop take the measurements. and theyre timed so that means#i get abt 4 min to do anything before i have to take another measurement. which is abt enough time to start to focus and then have to stop#which is very fucking frustrating. and i have to manage data. coordinate for this fucking paper. and keep track of like 10 other things for#work stuff. which means that it takes me like and hour to send easy emails and they come out all fucked uo bc my brain is so shot#but on top of that i also have to fucking do the steps to get set up for my new school in the fall. and like ive officially accepted the#offer but havent talked to my new advisor since then so now theres this weird gap where im like. uh fuck do i ask for wtf im supposed to#do? bc ive been able to do things for like 2 or 3 weeks but then my life started collapsing in around me. and like there r probably#instructions somewhere but i cant fucking read lol. whatever. hes nice i just need to find the energy and words to email him and b like lol#srry everythings been insane. but bc ive waited so long i have to compulsively keep going back to check that ive been accepted like somehow#that would change while im not looking. ugh. and ive also fucked myself over housing wise bc theres a housing shortage in the city and huge#demand of housing on camus so theres a wait list for everything but i cant fucking apply bc i cant get my id to work. and fucking idk who#to call or email abt that. but idk i might have to have roomates for a semester. or my parents offered to give me some extra money for an#apartment until i can get one that doesnt put me in the red on a grad student budget. ugh. i dont wanna do either of those things#but christ do i not want roommates. ill figure something out. its just annoying and difficult from so far away#and it makes me kinda sad bc ppl r like: r u excited?! and im like. i cant really think abt that. partly bc im constanly putting out fires#in the present so theres not really space for it. partly bc i dont allow myself to b excited abt things so as not to get my hopes up.#but just after i accepted i was excited. and now it feels like im reaching my hand out toward a floating light just out of reach. like#its a nice idea but i wont believe until it happens. but that just bc ive become distorted about things#and i dont even get a weekend bc the 4 days of measurement r friday to Monday and i cant fucking relax on weekdays bc ppl r like hey can u#do this??? and there r things i can only do on weekdays so its like ok i guess ill just suffer forever thrn. and my boss texts me like: hey#did u do X? and am like: uuuuuh i fucking dont kno what day it is anymore. i dont understand y we have to meet. lets just not talk bc im#afraid ill say something worrying. so yea its pretty fucked up rn. but this stuff ends on the 24th#then ill probably not take a break and fucking finish the measurements for another project bc i just really need it to b done. i need it#all to b done so i can fucking wash my hands of this and fucking quit and move away at the start of july... or August if i decide i hate#myself that much. ugh. at least the lab has been pretty empty so no ones seen me crying lol#also thr fucking rutgers guy emailed me yesterday like: hey u want this position? and im like bitch u r like a month too late also im in#my cringe fail era. i would not survive at ur school. ugh everything is terrible. 2 or 3 more months then i csn leave this place forever#unrelated
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weird-and-unwell · 3 months
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“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.
I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.
At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.
I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.
I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.
I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.
I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.
Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.
I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.
"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.
Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.
But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.
I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.
Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.
And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.
But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.
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french-goodbye · 8 months
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please never fall in love again
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pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: dating steve harrington is hard, especially when girls keep hitting on him.
notes: i wrote this a while ago but eventually forgot about it in the midst of all my wips lol. title from the song please never fall in love again by ollie mn.
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you stare at the back of your boyfriend's head with narrowed eyes and your chin resting on your hands, an anger you know you shouldn't be feeling boiling beneath the surface of your skin. he, of course is none the wiser, as he is to most things, just chatting with eddie completely carefree by the bar.
you love steve harrigton, you really do. you think you fell in love with him on your first date and never really fell out of it. you've already planned your whole life with him, from getting married and having kids to growing old with him and sitting side by side on a wrap around porch. he's sweet, kind, he's great with kids and it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes and great in bed.
his biggest flaw, however, is not exactly his fault. the worst thing about dating steve harrigton is the amount of women who hit on him on a daily basis. whether it's old ladies at the grocery store telling him he looks like their dead husbands or bored soccer moms looking for a little thrill or, the worst of all, the girls your age who slip him their phone number in old receipts over the counter at family video. these women are always there, like blood sniffing sharks, somehow finding a way to make a suggestive comment or a flirty joke.
most of the time, it doesn't really bother you even when it does happen in front of you. steve's the kind of guy who'd never cheat on you, simply because of who he is and how obsessed with you he is. sometimes, however, they can get a little too close and personal and you can't help but wish steve was a little less attractive. just a little.
and it's not that you don't trust him either, he's always quick and firm to shut them down when it happens. it's that they're the ones you don't trust, the girls with big permed blonde hair and fake tans and bright pink lipstick who look at you disdainfully when they realize you're together because they can barely take their eyes off of him for long enough to notice you're standing right next to him.
you're out at a bar celebrating jonathan's birthday when it happens this time, steve and eddie having offered to get everyone another round, the two of them leaning against the bar talking while they wait when a girl from the booth in the corner approaches them. she's clearly a little bit more than tipsy and obviously focused on steve as she talks to them, avidly taking him in and resting her hand on his forearm. he doesn't even blink, just smoothly leans away from her and tells her something that makes her leave as fast as she arrived.
you can barely hear nancy as she complains about her male coworkers on her summer job, as you heatedly stare at his stupidly nice hair and broad shoulders as your boyfriend laughs at something eddie said, hand scratching his neck. you're still watching him with scrunched eyebrows and a sour expression when you feel robin poking your cheek, making you look at her and gently slap her hand away.
"why are you poking me?"
"why are you staring at steve like he kicked your puppy?" she asks, frowning, looking back and forth between the two of you like a tennis match.
"i'm not" she gives you a flat look with raised brows. "fine," you huff. "why do women always hit on him? we can't take him anywhere"
"no idea, you tell me"
"urgh" you groan, throwing your arms around her and resting your head on her shoulder. "god, i hate men"
"amen sister" you hang onto her for a second as she takes a noisy sip of her empty drink through her straw and taps your back sympathetically a few times before gently pushing you away as steve and eddie walk back to your table, drinks in hands and still chatting distractedly.
she softly claps her hands, enthusiastically and telling you a quiet "yay" as she turns back to nancy and jonathan, as the two argue wether or not their coworkers are sexist (they totally are).
you're still laughing at robin's drunken antics when steve comes to your side again and sets your new drink on the table in front of you, resting his hand on your lower back. you let him but when he leans over you to press a kiss to your hair, you promptly dodge away from him and out of his reach. from the corner of your eye, you can see how he frowns at that and silently watches you for a second as you pretend to listen to what nancy says.
his hand on your lower back climbs all the way up to the back of your neck so he turn your head his away, forcing you to look at his big brown eyes staring at you like you just kicked his puppy and you almost feel guilty. almost.
"what's wrong?" he asks.
you shrug, "nothing's wrong."
"are you mad at me or something?"
"no" you slowly shake your head in negative, shrugging.
"gimme a kiss then" he rests one of his hands on your face tilting your head his way while the other on your neck guides your face to his. you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek and look away, accidentally making eye contact with the girl who just hit on him. she's watching the two of you, quickly looking away when she notices she was caught staring.
"you saw that, huh" he tells you, hands settling on your waist instead so he can look at you.
"hard not to" you huff, picking invisible lint from your pants.
"then you know nothing happened"
"of course i know that, i trust you" you complain as you roll your eyes and gesticulate to show your frustration "but i-it just makes so insanely angry when they touch you like that, like they have any right to-" you stop your ranting mid sentence when you realize the look on his face. "what? why are you looking at me like that?"
"nothing" he clears his throat and looks down to uselessly smooth non existing wrinkles on your top. you watch him though narrowed eyes and gasp when it hits you, making him look at you again. "what?"
"you like it when i'm jealous" you accuse, lightly poking his chest.
"no, i don't"
"yes, you do. i can't believe i never noticed it before" you huff an incredulous laugh, remembering all the times girls hit on him in front of you and he said nothing but affirmations of how much he's in love with you and how he could never want somebody else, acting more attentive and affectionate than usual later, pressing you against his body and kissing kissing kissing you until he was the only thing on your mind.
"okay, it's not what you're thinking" he replies running a hand through his hair nervously.
"what am i thinking, harrington?" you ask, lifting one eyebrow as a smirk makes it's way to your lips.
"it's not an ego thing" you laugh softly at him, letting your fingers run soothingly through the hair at the nape of his neck, finally giving into the temptation to get your hands on him. "it's just- i like knowing how much you want me just for yourself, how much you care about me."
you stare at him for a moment, taking in his sincere brown eyes and his fluffy hair, feeling impossibly endeared by the boy in front of you. he fidgets under your stare, so you smooth your hands down his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt.
"well, i do care... a lot" you tell him, pretending to be coy and batting your eyelashes at him. "but it's not like i blame her"
"what?" he looks at you blankly, confused.
"i mean, look at you" you pull him closer and then closer still, still smirking. "those nice brown eyes, the pretty hair, those shoulders... nevermind how much of a charmer you are. damn harrington, no wonder women keep throwing themselves at you."
"babe" he groans embarrassedly, "they're not throwing themselves-" he dramatically drops his forehead on your shoulder making you laugh at his discomfort, letting brown strands of hair slip through your fingers as you comfortingly pet his hair and he squeezes your waist in reprimand.
"it's true!"
he pulls you closer by the grip he has on your waist and burrows his face in the crook of your neck in lieu of an answer. you let him have it even though you would like to see his face and the way his blush is probably spreading from his cheek to his neck and rest your chin into his shoulder as you hug him.
"but one of these days i'll have to step in and defend your honor"
"please don't" he pulls away and cups your neck, thumbs brushing your cheek and staring at you disapprovingly, his eyelashes touching at the corners, the hint of a smile still on his face.
"i don't know, maybe i'll have to challenge them to a duel to the death" you disagree and look at him from under your eyelashes. he gives you an affectionate look that'd make you nauseous were it not directed at you and presses a long lingering kiss to your lips.
"shut up" he whispers against your lips. you gladly do, at least until eddie and robin start throwing balled up paper napkins at your head. it's worth it though.
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eternally-racing · 4 months
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need you now | lando norris (+ oscar)
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genre: smut , maybe fluff if you squint
wc: <1k (short n sweet 😌)
pairing: lando norris x reader, with a surprise appearance from #81 himself (read and find out hehehe)
warnings: female masturbation, phone sex (ish), voyeurism, dirty talk
rating: R - minors DNI
summary: calling your boyfriend Lando to complain about being horny seems to turn into so much more.
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“Landooooooo” you’re whining to your phone camera. You’re throwing a tantrum like a child and you know it, but you just can’t seem to help yourself. It’s been weeks since your boyfriend promised to visit, and after Lando was supposed to come home last weekend but got called into the factory for some last minute meetings, you’re more than a little… frustrated, to say the least. 
You know Lando can tell too. He’s cheeky enough to want to make you squirm, putting on that all knowing smile that you love so much. These conversations have become all too frequent between you two - you nestled into your sheets at home, Lando relaxing in his driver’s room during any free time he has on a race weekend. You’re even wearing one of Lando’s old shirts, and from the way that your nipples are poking through it it’s all too easy for him to tell how horny you are. 
“Lan you don’t understand, it’s like I just need to be fucked. Not a want, a NEED. and you’re not here and it’s the worst.” There are of course much bigger problems in the world, but for a girl who knows the touch of Lando Norris and hasn’t felt it in weeks, this feels like torture. 
Once you get going on the topic, you’ve set the train into motion and there’s no stopping it. Lando of course doesn’t stop you at all, what better feeling is there than your girl talking about how much she misses your dick?”  
“My poor baby” Lando says sweetly with a tinge of sarcasm that makes you roll your eyes “your fingers just aren’t enough, are they?”
Lando knows exactly what you need to hear to egg you on and he says exactly that. “I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me coming back, aren’t you Y/N? You’re thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you when I finally get my hands on you again.” 
You can feel your thong getting so wet and you’re almost in such a sex craze that you’re willing to book a plane ticket to get halfway across the world to be with your boyfriend. If Lando’s going to play games, you can play them too. You lean over towards the camera, giving him a nice shot of your cleavage. “What are you planning to do to me, Lan?” 
And tell you he does. The filth Lando mentions to you is enough to make you feel like you could orgasm without even touching yourself, and small moans and whimpers seem to slip out of your mouth as you try to keep quiet about how much he’s affecting you. There’s promises made of orgasm after orgasm, and even the images in your head of Lando buried beyween your legs is enough to make you clench your thighs together in eagerness.
“Lan, I need you now” you mumble with glazed eyes, “look what you’ve done to me”. You’re about to show him the mess he’s made of your legs and take the oversized shirt off your body when Lando’s eyes go wide and he tells you to hold on for a second. And the words he says as he cuts off your actions make your jaw drop to the floor. 
“Babe, you might wanna say hi to Oscar.” 
You gasp audibly and almost drop your phone entirely. Lando turns the camera all too slightly to the left to show both him and Oscar now. The younger man is settled comfortably onto the couch next to your boyfriend, and the knowing look and slight red tinge to his cheeks tell you that he's been there for your entire conversation. Lando's eyes seem to flit between you and his teammate, trying to gauge if this was his best idea or worst idea ever.
You can barely look him in the eyes as you stumble through greeting Oscar. But it's not missed on Lando that you don't make any moves to cross your arms over your chest or cover yourself up in front of Oscar, and he keeps that information as something to talk to you about later.
“I should head off, mate, but if you ever need help with that problem… I’d be happy to lend a hand.” The Australian boy has the audacity to wink at you through the camera before he picks up his jacket to leave. The Oscar you see in front of you doesn’t resemble the shy, timid rookie you first met at the beginning of the year - you can’t imagine how much else has changed about him since then.
Who knows, maybe it would be worth it to take Oscar up on his offer.
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personasintro · 6 months
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Mutual Help | #56
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.7k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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Your trip is slowly but surely coming to an end. 
Minus some bumps along the way, it's safe to say you had a great time either way. You and Jungkook have managed to talk like proper adults and it went well. But most importantly, you've made up. It is sad there's goodbyes soon to be said. You kind of wish you could stay here for at least another day.
But all of you have to go back to adult life. The weight is lifted off your chest, practically non-exist as you and Jungkook share a soft smile while all of you pack your things. Well – except Taehyung who's sitting on one of the portable chairs with sunglasses on, too hungover to help his best friend who's been complaining for the past ten minutes. 
"I take it you finally made up." Maya comes up to you, folding up a thin blanket when there's no one nearby. 
"We finally talked." you answer. 
She surely notices the relaxation behind your tone and features, causing her to smile knowingly instead of saying anything for a moment. 
"And? How did it go?" 
"Good. Great, actually. I explained myself well and we both had something to apologize for. It's not even about the apology. I think us talking is more important and even though I was pretty scared and unsure to just walk up to him and talk, I'm glad I got it off my chest." 
"Being honest is not always easy but I knew you guys would work it out. From what I heard, your friendship has always been strong." Maya grins. 
"How do you know that?" 
"Namjoon," she chuckles simply. "But that doesn't matter. Even I can confidently say it's true. And I haven't known you for too long and I solely know this just from seeing you and him, plus hearing you talk about him." 
You avert your gaze to the ground, your shy smile causing you to feel even more shy when you feel her eyes on you. 
"I'm jealous though. The sex after such an argument is gonna be amazing." 
And just like that, the air shifts and your gaze snaps toward blunt Maya who's already grinning, expecting your reaction of shock and disbelief. 
"Yeah, that's not happening." You cringe, muttering. 
"You don't want to? Wow, I mean—shit." Maya's the one who's shocked which has you snickering under your breath. She's unbelievable. 
"Not that I don't want to, but we've decided to take a break from... the sex part." 
"And whose stupid idea that was?" she exclaims, a laugh escaping from your lips the moment you see her face while she dramatically leaves her mouth open. 
"Mine." 
"That explains it." 
"Hey!" 
She laughs, letting you know she's only joking. 
"I thought it would be for the best. I can't really explain it. I just think it's time for a break."
You're not going to tell her he fucked you in the woods while you both were unable to communicate together and were pissed off at each other. While you don't find it uncomfortable to be talking with her about your sex life, there are some things that are better left between you and Jungkook only. It's not like you're embarrassed about it but it feels too personal and intimate to talk about it openly. In the end, just like you told Jungkook, you wanted it at that moment and you don't regret it happening. He was right when he said the sex was good. It always is. 
But anyway... you two hooking up surely changed a few things between you and him. You let lust control you and while you believe sex like this doesn't necessarily have to mean a bad thing, you wonder how else would you solve it if you weren't hooking up. 
It's all frustrating and it seems like there are a few things you can't answer because it's that confusing. And you don't understand them. 
It might sound all dramatic but it's nothing like that. It's no big deal. You'll continue your friendship the same way and the only difference will be sex. You can't think about it too much, knowing once your hormones get the best out of you, you're going to have a hard time accepting your own idea. 
"What about you guys? Are you ready to go back home?" 
Maya groans, tilting her head back as she nods. "Yeah, I could do another day here. Though we've got a wedding to plan." 
"Do you know what month it's gonna be?" 
"We don't. We're about to make some calls and meet up with a few people to see which place is closest to our terms. I'm excited, don't get me wrong, but it's so stressful to plan everything. We definitely want it to happen this year after having a conversation. But summer is pretty much all booked everywhere, unless we want some unaesthetic and cheap place." 
She sighs before smiling. 
"But it's okay. Joon is a huge help and he's very much involved. We're doing everything together." 
"That's great. Let me know if there's anything I can help with. I'm not sure how I'd be able to help, I know shit about weddings but just call me if there's anything I could do." 
Maya gives you an appreciative smile. "You're a sweetheart." 
With a smile on your face, you start folding a sleeping bag which you're sure belongs to Yoongi, who (surprisingly) is cleaning up the truck of his car so everything is neat and good to go. You're unaware of Maya's stare that's aimed behind you until she speaks up. 
"A stupid sweetheart if you decided not to fuck him." 
"What?" you mumble, following her eyes. 
There he is. 
Jungkook stops his task to grasp the hem of his shirt, bringing it up and dabbing the tiny droplets of sweat covering his forehead. That wouldn't be the issue if he didn't expose his abs to everyone's eyes – even though only you and Maya are staring – showing his bulky chest. Dryly gulping, you quickly turn around and nudge Maya to look away. 
She gives you a knowing look, offering you a friendly pat to your shoulder as you click your tongue in annoyance. 
They're just abs. Ones you've seen multiple times. You're fine. 
You're going to be fine.  
You still rush to pack your things, not even glancing in Jungkook's direction. Too scared to see him doing bare minimum and look absolutely hot while doing it. 
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Everything went back to normal. Well, new normal.
Yoongi acts like he hasn't spent a whole weekend with you, still patiently waiting for his lunch every day. Even on the way back home, he barely said a word and hummed quietly to his playlist. Surprisingly, you took a decent nap, catching up the lost sleep you experienced the night before. 
After four days of constantly buying Yoongi a lunch, you regret ever inviting him more and more each day. The man demands his lunch, holding you up to your deal. Are you surprised? No. Were you hoping he would leave you alone after a few days? Yes . 
The group chat is full of memes and possibly dates to hang out again, reminding you of your supposedly summer vacation. After the camping trip, you're a little bit more wary to plan something longer and serious than just a casual hangout. It's pretty stupid. One argument shouldn't hold you back from experiencing new memories with your friends. 
You and Jungkook haven't really spoken since the camping trip. You got to say a warm goodbye and ever since then, both of you have been too busy jumping back to your lives to talk. You know you're fine though. In your friends group chat, you've replied to one another a few times – mostly reacting to the memes or just to joke around. So far, there's not much change in your relationship with Jungkook. It feels pretty same and you know it's only because you haven't had the time to hang out and be alone. Is it stupid of you to say that you're a little bit nervous when that time comes? 
However, it eventually comes just when you anticipate it and you don't avoid it. This has been your idea after all. 
You and Jungkook text back and forth, this time in a separate chat without prying eyes of Jimin and Taehyung. Jungkook's days and evenings are fully packed. There's not much time to hang out typically at your or his place – which again might be dangerous and too soon for you. You're being dramatic, that's for sure. But once he comes up with a plan, for some reason you agree even if his plan is the least common place to hang out for you and him.
Stepping inside the building, you're surprisingly met with a nice scent of freshness instead of sweat and testosterone. The gym Jungkook visits is certainly popular and modern, based on the fully packed gym and its interior that has a sweat already rolling down your back. 
“This is most certainly new.” you mutter, eyes wide staring around you as Jungkook cackles, leading you toward the front desk. 
There, of course, is a young female receptionist wearing a cropped tank top with leggings as if she's the one that's about to work out. Once again, Jungkook's often visit here shows when she easily recognizes him and both drops formality, which you don't expect.
While Jungkook goes to equip your gym access after you greet each other with the receptionist, you silently standby and listen to their conversation. You're aware of Jungkook's membership here and judging by the clear sight of the receptionist recognizing and knowing him, he doesn't have to show anything to prove his identity.
“Are you interested in getting a trainer for this session?” she asks, eyes jumping between you and Jungkook. 
“No.” You and him speak at the same time.
Nodding, she clicks off a few things on the computer before she says the price for a single access which has your eyes almost falling out their sockets. You and Jungkook both pull out your wallets. Desperately trying to beat him, you're too late as he pulls out his card sooner and pays.
“I could've paid for myself.” you point out, pursing your lips in a mere annoyance. Can't lie though. Your heart surely feels lighter knowing you haven't had to pay such a price for a full hour and half of torture.
Suddenly, Jungkook's plan doesn't seem that good at all. You would very much test your willpower back at his or your place. 
“I know you could've.” he sings out annoyingly, leaving you to roll your eyes at him as he thanks the woman, leading you away. “It was my idea, I know this gym is a bit pricey and you're not exactly the type to spend money on something like this.”
“Yah!” you nudge him, met with a toothy grin as he teasingly nudges you back. “What are you saying? Maybe I'll enjoy working out. I should work on those muscles.”
You and him share a look, grinning at each other after cracking up a few moments later, knowing very well he's right and you're full of shit. Working out is not exactly your priority. You have enough exercise when working, constantly on your feet all day. Not mentioning how much you walk and sometimes rush to get Yoongi his fucking lunch. But well, that's completely on you. It's a nice reminder to never do that again. To involve him in your stupid plans. 
While Jungkook leads you to the gym equipment (you're sure he would know his way around blindfolded), you're trying your best not to stare at all those muscular and slim people around you. Damn, you're really out of place right now. They all seem to know what they're doing. 
“You wanna lift some weights?” Jungkook asks, tossing down water bottles and two towels he grabbed from home for you and him. “Wait, you did some stretching before coming here, right?”
When he's met with silence, he looks up just to see your brow raised with a frown on your lips. He sighs, disapprovingly and not very subtly shaking his head as he mutters your name.
“I got into this bizarre outfit right after I got from work!” you exclaim, pointing at yourself. 
You tried your best, alright? A simple black leggings and an oversized shirt. It's definitely not the hottest outfit you would often see on Instagram of some fitness model, or just most women who work out and want to look nice. But who cares?
“And I don't ever stretch. Nobody's got time for that.” you mutter.
Jungkook snickers, some of his hair falling and shielding his forehead as he sits down on the bench. “You should stretch every morning, regardless if you work out or not.”
He used to stretch your muscles in other ways.
Oops –intrusive thoughts!
“Alright, alright.” You roll your eyes at him which has him laughing. 
“Okay, do some basic stretching while I do some lifting.” Already seeing your disapproving face, he continues. “Trust me, you're gonna thank me later.”
“But you said you would go easy on me!”
He did say that. In fact, he doesn't plan to destroy you on your first proper work out session. And probably the last because who knows? You're unpredictable sometimes.
But instead of calming down your nerves, he lies down but not before shooting you a smirk. “When have I ever?”
He starts lifting the heavy weight, pressing his lips tightly as he occasionally groans, some of them taking you far away from the gym. Still standing there, you dryly gulp and wonder, why the fuck you haven't invited him over instead? Suddenly, it sounds way more safer than this for numerous reasons. 
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Jeon Jungkook is coming for your neck. 
All he does is the same thing he would’ve done if you weren’t here. He’s focused, checking on you to see if you’re really stretching your muscles like he has advised you from time to time. While he’s oblivious to your inner thoughts and how much you’re actually trying to ignore the way his muscles tense and flex during his workout, he makes sure to give you a stern look every time he sees you flaking. 
He would’ve been a stern trainer, that’s for sure. 
One thing about him is that he takes his job and hobbies very seriously. He doesn’t like when people fuck around — maybe that’s why he’s so opposed to take Taehyung to workout with him. You’re clear Taehyung would enjoy being here just as much as some of the female audience clearly enjoy watching Jungkook. Obviously, he would not enjoy them eyeing and salivating over him, but rather appreciate the clear attention because you know they would eye Taehyung just as much. 
But Jungkook stays focused on himself, partly focused on you while you’ve been stretching your legs for the past five minutes until Jungkook reminds you to switch and stretch other parts with breathless voice. 
Once he finishes, he sits up and takes a short break as he watches you with an amused expression, sparkles dancing in his dark brown eyes. 
“What?” you huff out. “Am I doing it wrong?” 
“No,” he laughs. “I just never thought I’d see the day of you working out.” 
Straightening up, you flip him off with a sarcastic smile which allows him to laugh even more. “Don’t sweat it. I’m not working out yet.” 
After a minute, you stop stretching feeling like you’ve done a decent job. Met with Jungkook’s gaze, you purse your lips. 
“You know… we could’ve gone to a cinema or do something instead.” 
“Complaining already?” he asks amusingly, resting his arm over his thigh as he manspreads himself. 
Are you? It definitely sounds like it and to be honest, you're not sure. You thought spending time with him just hanging out would be a great opportunity to get your friendship back to the old ways. Even though there was a thought in the back of your mind of how that was going to go when you simply imagined Jungkook's sweaty body. You've had the opportunity to see him working out at his place and even back then, you had an awful time trying not to gawk at him. 
With the never-ending thoughts, you grow more upset at yourself. Jungkook is one fine piece of man and that's definitely not how you only see him. He's much more than that. When you look at him, you see him . Not just the physically attractive side of him. Not the way those girls are still eyeing him shamelessly. 
Although, you're not complaining for a reason Jungkook might think. You're not the athletic type like him, he knows that – hell, everyone knows it around you. Or perhaps, it's the tiny bit of this reason too. This is what you wanted. 
Perhaps you made things more dramatic and serious than they have to be. Looking at Jungkook, seeing his toothy grin he sends your way while he's completely oblivious to your inner (and annoying) thoughts, some of the weight lifts off your chest. 
“Not at all.” you assure him, ignoring his knowing look but luckily, he doesn't call you out on your bluff. 
“Come on, maybe we should do some cardio now. Get you heated up a little.”
Don't worry, you already took care of it, you think as you nod with a tight smile, following him across the room. 
Jungkook sets up the treadmill for you, setting up a manageable pace for you before he joins you. 
While music hits of this year blasts through the speakers, he advises you to focus on your breathing before he informs you you're going to do a few miles. Jungkook is keeping up with you, not sticking to his usual routine and for that, you're grateful. It feels nice to do the same thing together, just being in each other's presence even though there's not much time to actually have a conversation. 
After a while, you notice the same women who were shamelessly watching Jungkook the entire time since they noticed him, join you on the treadmills. Scoffing a little under your breath, you glance at Jungkook who's too focused to even notice anything. 
As you open your mouth to comment on it in front of him, Jungkook is in his own world as he suddenly tugs his shirt over his head before he tosses it over the handrail. That's when he must sense your prominent eyes on him as he glances your way.
“Seriously?”
“It's getting hot.” he explains, shrugging as he continues totally unbothered. 
Huffing out, you tuck a strand of hair behind your hair that has managed to get out of your ponytail. “You're aware of your fanclub here, right?”
“What?” Jungkook breathes out, shooting you a confused look. “What are you talking about?”
You snicker, “There are like three women who have been eyeing you since the moment they spotted you. They even followed us here, so they could stare .” you inform him amusingly, shaking your head when you see his frowned expression. “Oh come on. Don't tell me you're not aware. It probably happens every time you come here.”
You're not dumb and neither is Jungkook. He's definitely not clueless how many female gazes he catches (sometimes even male).
“I wasn't aware of them . But yeah, it happens.” he admits almost shyly, clearing his throat.
You trace his tattooed arm with your eyes for a moment, before saying: “Has anyone hit on you while you were working out?”
“Y/N!” he exclaims, sounding almost scandalized by your blunt question. “I said focus on your breathing.”
Is Jeon Jungkook being flustered? It only spurs you on and spreads your cheeky grin even wider. “Oh, so you do get hit on.”
Jungkook huffs, “Yeah, it happens sometimes.”
Hm, sometimes. You're not sure if you believe that. 
“How fast?”
“What is this?” Jungkook laughs, “Are you interrogating me?”
“Just curious.”
You really are. You haven't experienced being at the gym with him before. It's fascinating how he behaves here. Not that he's different or something, but it is quite interesting to witness this part of his life.
He sighs when she spots your curious gaze and the cheeky grin, rolling his eyes at you before he huffs out his response. “It usually happens by now. But you're here with me, so I'm guessing that's what holds them back.”
Why is that not surprising? Instead of feeling anything negative, you find that fact amusing and it makes you chuckle. “Oh, should I leave? Give them a chance to come here?” you joke, laughing even more when you see Jungkook's glare.
“You're annoying.”
In the midst of your laughing, you notice him cracking a grin which he has tried to hide. Your body feels lighter, despite your muscles growing tired already, but the moment between you lingers. This is how it felt before. Just you and him – teasing each other. 
Turning off the treadmill sooner than you should've (after hoping you've clicked the right button), you take the small towel Jungkook has brought you and wipe your forehead. You bite back the laugh that wants to come out when you see Jungkook's suspicious stare.
“Scared I'm gonna leave?” you tease, causing him to huff out as he cuts off his run and turns off the equipment. 
“Don't you dare.” he says, wiping his own sweat as he grabs the bottle of water and takes a few gulps. 
While his head is tilted back, throat bobbing at the way he gulps, you find yourself eyeing his buffed out chest. You don't expect to see Jungkook's eyes on you as soon as you look away from the amount of naked flesh, cheeks heating up immediately as his lips curl into a smirk. 
“Stop teasing me.” he simply says, moving closer as he drapes his towel over his shoulder.
“Are you sure I'm the one that's teasing?” you ask silently, eyes flickering down to his chest again as he chuckles. 
“I always tend to take off my shirt. I promise I'm not teasing.”
You believe that. Jungkook doesn't owe you an explanation and after all, you do know very well he prefers to be as naked as possible. Looking around, you spot a few guys shirtless as well and it's not that unusual to see the extra skin here.
“Perhaps you could control yourself a little, you know, around me.” you say with a cheeky tone, pointing at his body as he plays your game, humming while nodding.
And then he does something unexpected. He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, feeling the softness of it as it feels like he prints his fingertip to the skin he tasted many times before. “You wanted the break, remember?”
The way he drops his tone but still keeps it light and teasing causes your heartbeat to pick up its pace. Stop, stop, stop . Hearing the warnings and red lights going on in your head, you stay rooted in your spot as Jungkook drops his hand, lips twitching. 
He's not oblivious when it comes to you though. He can tell your single body language or expression from miles away. 
“Perhaps you're the one who needs to control yourself a little.” And then he's patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. 
He walks away, laughing and fully content at your speechless appearance, ushering to continue in your routine as you mindlessly follow him. But not before sending a small glare toward Jungkook's fanclub, seeing them whispering among themselves. 
Surprisingly, things go back to normal and there's no teasing happening after that. While your heart still beats a little faster than it should've – and it's definitely not from working out and following Jungkook's instructions – the lingering tension is almost not there. Jungkook is back to being serious, showing you the right way to do things when needed and you listen obediently, doing an actual good job at it. Even if he's back in your mind during all of that, you find yourself to be distracted enough to enjoy your time here. And just you and him hanging out. 
Hour and a half passes quickly. Quicker than you previously thought it would. You get separated when it's time to take a shower and change clothes. Jungkook is finished soon, waiting for you at the reception (no surprise) as he's chatting with the receptionist again. Once he sees you done, he bids a goodbye and wraps his arm around your shoulder.
“So, what are you saying? Are you gonna be my workout partner?” he teases, the two of you walking out of the building as he leads you to his parked car. 
All you can muster to do in response is to let out an awkward chuckle. “I would rather not.”
For obvious reasons. 
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Tossing the packaged food, beef burger and big fries precisely, onto the desk, you watch the bane of your existence slowly turn his chair in your direction as he makes sure you see his well amused and annoying grin. Delivering him a huge sarcastic and tight smile, you hold yourself back from wrapping your hands around his neck and choke him.
Min Yoongi has been nothing but a big menace. The worst thing is that you can't really complain because you agreed to it. 
Today, he requested to get a burger with fries for his lunch. The closest place is around twenty minutes from your workplace by a car, so you spent most of your lunchbreak getting his fucking burger, waiting for them to prepare it and then driving back. Your bank account is slowly starting to cry. Or is that you ? 
“Why thank you.” he beams sarcastically, sniffling the air around him as he leans closer to the packed meal, only spurring your annoyance for sure. 
“It's not like I had a choice.” you remind him sweetly. 
“A deal is a deal.” he sings out, the sound of you taking a deep breath causing his lips to twitch. 
You don't give him the joy of begging him, or even trying to talk him out of this. After all, he's not wrong. You like to think of it as your punishment for making a stupid decision. Overall, it wasn't that bad and for that, you're glad. Yoongi (surprisingly) got along with the guys and for what could be assumed a weak moment, he even told you he was enjoying the time there. It was certainly a weak moment on your part when you allowed yourself to cry in front of Min Yoongi. Somehow, you managed to convince him to hug you. The awkward hug makes you cringe till this day and you're sure Yoongi feels the same. However, he seemed to have his own weak moments for sure. Why else would he ever assure you that he did have a good time? Min Yoongi is not all bad, deep down you know that. 
“So how are things with your boyfriend?” He starts unpacking his meal, the scent filling the room as the office is yet to be filled with your colleagues. Most of them haven't gotten back from their lunch breaks, but that will soon change as it's supposed to end in five minutes. Unless they don't want Junho to come for their asses and spend the rest of the day listening to him complaining. 
“Good?” you ask confusingly. “Since when do you care?”
“I don't, but today has been boring as fuck.” he says simply, taking the first bite of the hamburger you paid for. You ignore the way your mouth salivates. You've managed to eat fries on your way here – something Jungkook would surely scold you for. He wouldn't approve of you eating while driving. Good thing he doesn't know. 
“I told you I'm not here for your amusement, Min.” you remind him.
“Back to last name basis? I thought we're closer than that after our weekend together.” he says loud enough for Benjamin to hear who's passing by, your cheeks flaring hot as he gives you both a weird look, luckily continuing his way toward the breakroom, you assume. 
“Our weekend? First of all, ew,” You cringe, erupting a laugh from him as his cheeks are puffed out with the hamburger. “And seriously? Do you really want rumors to start going around?”
“Nobody would believe I would go for you, relax.” he scoffs while your jaw drops to the floor. Once you collect yourself, you sit yourself on the edge of his desk.
“You did go for me once, as far as I can remember. And if I remember correctly, you did tell me my pu–”
“We don't talk about that.” he cuts you off abruptly, worth enough for you to say the words aloud when seeing his reaction as he looks flustered of you bringing it up. 
It's not like you wanted to, he didn't give you a chance.
“Me and my boyfriend are doing great though. How about you? Have you found yourself a suitable partner that is willing to keep up with your ass?” 
Yoongi chokes on his spit, trying his best for the food to stay in his mouth and that's when you know your job is done. 
“Enjoy your meal, Yoongi.” you tell him sweetly, getting off his desk and walking away with a triumphal grin. 
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The rest of your day goes smoothly, even when you haven't had a proper lunch but your latest interaction with Yoongi just brightens up your whole day. The look on his face and the little frown he made sure you see just made your day. And you made sure to let him know that. Not even Benjamin giving you a weird look very subtly could make you ruin your day.
That's how you've felt until you get inside your apartment building, knowing you have to change your clothes and freshen up before the guys come here. Taehyung is still at work and you're pretty sure so is Jimin, so you have a little bit of time before their arrival. Just as you're putting your phone back inside your purse, you lift your gaze to greet the neighbor just for you to let out an audible gasp. One that gets the attention of the very last person you've expected to see. 
In full glory, your ex-boyfriend stands a few doors away as he looks up, surely hearing you before his own eyes widen and mouth opens in surprise. 
“Y/N,” he breathes out, surprised just as much as you are.
“You've got to be kidding me.” you mutter, not dropping your eyes off Haneul. 
He hasn't changed, yet he seems different than the last time you saw him. He's sober this time for sure but that's not what you meant. At the sight of him, you're reminded of the moments you've spent together. Still shocked to see him, Haneul carefully walks closer.
“I–uh, my friend moved here. I was just visiting him, I didn't know you live here, I swear.”
The little panicked tone and expression on his face makes your features soften. The last encounter you had with him wasn't a pleasant one. You've had enough reasons to stay mad at him. And maybe a tiny part of you still is because of his own mistake. You wouldn't like to go back to it though. You've talked since then and you ended that chapter in your life. But still. Seeing him in front of you, looking panicked and careful like a lost puppy makes you feel bad for some reason. 
He has gained weight. Not lots of it but he looks… bigger and buff, though his cheekbones and jaw are more prominent.  He's wearing jeans, a simple white shirt with a patterned overshirt over it. He looks… good. Even his hair is darker and longer. That's what reminds you of the last time you've seen him. 
“It's okay,” you assure him slowly, not quite sure what to say. “I'm just surprised to see you here.”
“So am I,” he says, his features turning alarmed once again as he quickly jumps to elaborate. “I mean I'm surprised to see you here too. I really didn't know you live here.”
“It's fine.” you chuckle a little. You know how weird it must be for him too. Since the last time he assured you he wasn't stalking you, and based on his body language and expression right now, you're aware that he is actually scared of you to think otherwise. 
He's nervous. You're actually surprised that you can tell even after all these months.
“I never thought I would see you again,” he says softly. “I–do you have a minute?”
Frowning automatically, you look around and shift on your spot. He is not oblivious to your evident uncertainty and perhaps discomfort, his face saddening. 
“It won't be long. I just want to tell you something. It's been haunting me ever since… ever since the last time I saw you. I understand if you don't want to but…” he trails off, scratching his temple.
Looking back and forth between your apartment's door, you hesitate for a moment. For one, you're still shocked to see him here. To see him standing just a few feet away from you, looking at you in a total hope as he pleads with his eyes. 
Do you want him inside your place? It sounds too… intimate. Your place is private. To have him there out of all people… you're not sure how to feel about it. But one thing is sure, you definitely don't want to have this conversation in the hallway where anyone could hear you. 
“Let's take it inside, this is not a proper place to have any conversation.” you decide to say, slow with your movements as you move to tap your code and open the door. 
“Are you sure? I don't wanna overstep.”
Looking across your shoulder, you find him staring into the distance to avoid looking at your code to give you some privacy. That alone makes you feel safer because you know he wouldn't hurt you. Whatever happened back at the club… it was a mess but that shouldn't define all of him.
Still, you create a distance between you and him, still making sure he sees your hardened gaze as you invite him inside. 
“We can just talk here,” he says as soon as he closes the front door. “We don't have to go further.” He proposes.
Taking off your shoes, you cross your arms over your chest before leaning against the wall. “Okay, then talk.”
For a moment, he seems to be lost at words. But once you cock your brow at him, he shakes himself out of it and fumbles over his words. You're patient though, waiting for him to say whatever he needs to.
“I don't remember much from our last… from the last time I saw you. I mean–I do remember bits of it but I was too wasted to remember or even know what I was doing. I never reached out to you, not that I didn't want to, but I thought it's better if I didn't,”
You give him a look, raising your brow again as if to tell him that he's damn right .
“Listen, I don't wanna take any more of your time or bother you. I owe you a big apology, I shouldn't have ever cornered you like that. I was drunk and out of my mind. I still wasn't over our break-up and when I saw you–I lost it, I drank too much and I had no control over myself and for that, I'm ashamed.”
Squeezing your forearms subtly, you just stare at him before you sigh. “I was drunk too. I almost let you kiss me. And I probably would've if…” Jungkook didn't get between you two. 
 Haneul knows that, nodding understandably. 
“I never had a peace of mind after that. I was dumb and irresponsible. I still wasn't over the first love as they say.”
You stand up straight, arms still crossed. “I do hope you find your happiness.”
“Can I ask you something?” He tries, waiting for your nod. Once he gets it, he takes a breath and opens his mouth again. “How did you get over it?”
“Time,” you say as he nods, knowing that must be his answer as well. “And I had my friends too.”
Biting the inside of his cheek, he looks away as he nods. He knows who is included in your friend's circle and his very subtly annoyed reaction proves it. Jealousy is what got you into this mess in the first place. Who knows where you two would be if it weren't for the entire argument that took place during winter. 
“Um, well thank you for giving me a chance to apologize in person. I really needed that and I appreciate it.”
You nod. You could tell him that you hope he truly moved on. That he deserves happiness too and he shouldn't beat himself over his past mistakes too much. Or that you hope he matured into the right person because deep down, you know he's not bad. He had hurt you and you never expected it from him, but looking at you now, you've moved on faster than he has. He is still here, has waited for his moment to apologize again and you appreciate that. But to create more distance and avoid unnecessary affection, you stay quiet. Something tells you it's better this way. 
Perhaps you're being harsh. Or just reasonable and smart. 
Who knows.
He opens his door and you follow him, ready to say the final goodbye which doesn't necessarily mean you won't ever say hi again if you see each other in person. Knowing now that one of his friends lives here, there might be times when you see each other again. But there's no longer any connection there. You won't stay friends like you could've. You think it could only mess with his head.
Once you look up, you wonder why Haneul hasn't stepped out yet only to find Jungkook standing on the opposite side of the door, a prominent frown and glare framing his face.
“What the fuck.”
Getting in between them, you pull Jungkook inside as he spares you a short glance before his eyes don't leave Haneul's figure. You get Jungkook behind you and as Haneul gets the clue, he steps out of your place. 
“Thanks again.” he murmurs, trying not to glare too much at Jungkook who's still standing behind you. 
Giving Haneul one final nod and silent goodbye, you watch his figure retrieve as you let out a big sigh.
“What was he doing here?” Jungkook asks, breathlessly almost getting worked up at seeing Haneul here. 
It's not like you blame him. Haneul wasn't on his best behavior the last time he saw him. And before that too. 
“His friend moved here and we bumped into each other.”
“Great.” he states sarcastically, taking off his sneakers as he gives you a stern look which makes you innocently shrug before closing the door.
“He wanted to apologize.”
“And you let him inside your apartment? Jesus, Y/N.” He rubs his forehead, causing you to shrug.
“He was drunk at that time, Kook. He wouldn't hurt me.”
“You don't know that.”
“I do know that!” you argue, watching his brow raise as you retrieve a little, nibbling on your lip. 
Okay, maybe you don't know that. Haneul has proved himself to be… unexpected. But you don't think he would go far as to hurt you.
Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes as he leans his head back and stares at the ceiling for a second. He walks up to you, expression softening. “Y/N, baby,” He cups your cheek to make you look at him. You dryly gulp, having him this close to you after a long time. “We both know sometimes you can get upset and with a guy like him, you don't know how he's gonna react.” 
You do know what he means. Sometimes you can't control your mouth. But that's the last thing on your mind, not with him so close and calling you– “Baby,” You crack a grin. “We're on a break, remember?”
Jungkook huffs out a laugh, dropping his hands as you try to ignore the mere disappointment by that simple action. “Sorry.”
“I liked it.” you silently confess. 
He lifts up his gaze, mouth opening slightly before hard knocks behind you causes you to flinch. That breaks a moment as you see Taehyung's close up face on the display next to your door right after a ringbell can be heard, the system turning on the camera automatically. Jimin is behind him, nudging his head out of the camera. Snickering, you open the door as the lock unclicks and you're met with your friends face to face.
“What's up fuckers? What's the commotion about?” Taehyung cackles, tossing his sneakers off as Jimin sighs and shakes his head at evidently very active Taehyung. 
“Ignore him. He had a few drinks after work with his co-workers.”
“I was celebrating!”
“You celebrate a lot then.” Jimin mutters, ignoring Taehyung's glare before his sharp eyes stop on you two. 
“Commotion? What were you talking about?”
“We heard your voices when we got out of the elevator.” Taehyung answers you. 
“Were you listening behind the door, Kim Taehyung?” you exclaim, shooting him a disapproving look as he gasps and shakes his head, clearly offended by the suggestion. As if that couldn't happen when it comes to him. 
“We really weren't. We just heard voices because surprisingly, this fucker here was quiet the whole time on the elevator and even after we got out of it. We couldn't hear much. Taehyung is just as dramatic as always.”
“I was just joking, jesus. And who you're calling fucker?” 
You roll your eyes. “You just called us fuckers.” you point out, everyone going further down your apartment as you turn on the lights since you haven't had the chance to go fully inside. 
Taehyung just innocently shrugs. “But what's with the faces?”
“Y/N had her ex-boyfriend over.” Jungkook shrugs, your head snapping toward his direction as everyone in the room gasps. 
Jimin and Taehyung stare at you as if you were caught in a lie, their mouths open as their asses drop down onto your couch at the same time. The scenario is funny and you would surely laugh at them if it weren't for their disapproving and scandalized looks.
“Ex-boyfriend as the slut shaming asshole?” Taehyung asks, narrowing his eyes at you as you sigh.
“It wasn't exactly that, thanks a lot Jungkook,” you point at him, just as he shrugs in return before making himself comfortable in your chair. “His friend lives here, on the same floor I assume. We bumped into each other and he wanted to talk.”
“And you invited him here?” Jimin asks, frowning as you sigh just as Jungkook butts in.
“That's what I said!”
“I–” You stop for a second, rubbing your nose before sitting down on the arm rest, close to Taehyung. “I didn't wanna talk about it in the hallway. You guys didn't see him–” They start rolling their eyes and muttering a bunch of disapprovals before you quickly add. “He seriously just wanted to apologize for the last time. I gave him that choice and I'm unharmed. I'm okay. See?”
“You better be.” Taehyung warns. Jimin nods, agreeing. 
“You guys act like he physically harmed me. He's not that violent.” you inform them. 
As much as you appreciate their protective nature, you know Haneul is not the type to harm you physically. They all make it seem like that and you do think maybe they're a bit overprotective in this manner. 
“And I'm perfectly fine to tell him to fuck off.”
“Sometimes that's not enough. Sometimes that can cause more harm than you think.” Taehyung reminds you.
“Yeah, sorry Y/N but Tae's right.” Jimin agrees.
“You never know how any guy can react when they're mad.”
“You guys are being dramatic now.”
“Maybe, but better be safe than sorry.” Jungkook mutters. His elbow is resting against the armrest, fingers nibbling on his bottom lip as he gives you a stern look. 
“Kook's right,” Taehyung agrees. “Wait–Jungkook, you saw him? Was there a fight I missed?”
You snicker, “There was no fight, Tae because there wasn't a need for one.”
He disappointedly leans back with a pout. 
“He left peacefully. Said what he wanted to say and he's gone.”
“I hope you're not planning to see him again.” Jimin wonders, giving you a suspicious look as you stutter over your words, shocked at his suspicion while Taehyung snaps his head toward you, already ready to react.
“Why would she? God, don't be stupid to get back to him, Y/N.”
“Oh my god!” You shake your head, stopping him right away. “First of all, no one is getting back with anyone. I'm not interested in him like that, not that it's any of your business.” You tell them sternly, looking at every one of them, met with frowning Jungkook and then a second after, with the same looking Jimin and Taehyung. 
“We're just worried about you, that's all. But Jimin-ah, she has Jungkook now, right?” Taehyung teases.
“I appreciate the concern, but I'm not that dumb. And please stop bringing up me and Kook. We're not… doing that anymore.”
“What?!”
“You're not?”
Their reaction comes at the same time, bouncing against the wall of your small living room as the duo glance at Jungkook who nods in confirmation. 
You weren't exactly planning on telling them, in fact you and Jungkook never talked about telling anyone but that's simply because there was no need to. As always, that's between you and Jungkook. But now it seems like a good thing to inform them since Taehyung practically assumes you and Jungkook are hooking up. And despite his obvious shock and almost disappointment, his mouth frowns as Jimin suspiciously eyes you and Jungkook.
You don't tell them that you took a break. It's almost embarrassing to admit that you want to continue hooking up with Jungkook. Firstly, you want to focus on hanging out with him only. It seems fresh and nice, despite all the difficulties you have to go through every day.
“So you're no longer hooking up?”
“Who's dumb idea that was?” Taehyung exclaims as Jimin clicks his tongue at him.
“So you're just… friends? Everything went back to normal?” he asks, staring at you before focusing his eyes on Jungkook this time as he nods. 
“Do we have to talk about this?” Jungkook asks. “It's not like you discuss your sex life with me.”
“Well–”
“Not you, Tae.” Jungkook cuts him off, causing you to snicker. “But yes, she's telling the truth. Can we move on? I seriously don't wanna talk about my sex life.”
“The lack of right now.” Taehyung snickers, causing Jungkook to throw a pillow at him. 
Everyone knows that if Jungkook wanted to get his dick wet, he could do it anytime. The difference is that he's not that type of person and it's something he and Taehyung don't share. Minus Jimin since he's in a relationship now which still blows your mind to be honest. 
“I'm glad you guys got some sense after all.” Jimin says, leaning back as he makes himself more comfortable.
You and Jungkook share a look, your breath close to hitching once you spot those dark brown eyes from the distance, as you give Jimin a smile. One that you hope doesn't look nervous just as much as you seem.
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“What about Greece?” Taehyung asks, filling up the thoughtful silence. 
Luckily, for your and Jungkook's sake, the topic of your sex-life is no longer discussed – even though you know Taehyung is itching to know more details. Each of you has their phone in their hands, searching for the right destination for your first proper friend vacation. 
There have been a few suggestions, though you have to stay realistic. And all of you got bills to pay. 
“Won't that be more expensive?” Jimin questions, not quite sold on the latest suggestion.
“Not necessarily. We can always check.” he responds, shrugging. 
“And what about Hawaii? Many Koreans visit it, it's familiar and kinda verified if that makes sense.” Jimin says.
“Hawaii sounds nice.” Jungkook hums.
“Oh–Hawaii! Let's go to Hawaii!” Taehyung says excitedly, straightening himself off the sofa as you laugh at his sudden excitement. “I saw this TikTok about Hawaii destinations. It was beautiful.”
“Are you sure it's the destination you saw in that video?” Jungkook teases, both of you cackling as Taehyung flips him off.
“Ah, my aunt went there last year. She can't stop talking about it.” Jimin ignores the three of you, sticking up to the topic while Jungkook and Taehyung stick their tongues out at each other. Kids.
“Honestly, I don't care much where we're gonna go. As long as it's a nice place.” you shrug. “Hawaii sounds nice. Let's check it more, so we can finally decide.” 
Everyone agrees with you. When the four of you start searching for more details that entail what island you would pick, accommodation, flight tickets and overall the prices. The tiredness slowly overcomes you, your friends talk too much to the point you zone out. Their voices drift off as your head falls down on Jungkook's shoulder.
You hear them teasing you for falling asleep, but it gets ignored as you simply shrug and continue in your slumber. It's until Jungkook shakes you out of your sleepiness, his soft features are blurry until you blink a few times. In the distance you can see Jimin and Taehyung cleaning after themselves, the two of them in their own conversation. He gives you a gentle smile.
“We're going to Hawaii.”
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Over the course of a couple of days, everything is booked and set up. It feels nearly unreal. You've never experienced a vacation that involved a proper beach and island. It doesn't properly kick in, not even when you inform Junho about the vacation leave you want to take in mid July. Not very pleased by that, he knew you do have a right to take one, so he had to accept it. When everyone got a free pass, the group chat was filled with exciting gifs and memes. 
All that is left is to wait.
Taehyung: I fucking need this vacation y'all
Jimin: work?
He expects his job to be the cause of Taehyung's sudden message to the group chat.
Taehyung: no lol
Taehyung: just thinking about all chicks I'm gonna get 
Jimin: dude…
Taehyung: what? you used to be way more fun -_- 
Taehyung: you act like a priest now
Jimin: I don't think priest has a girlfriend 
Taehyung: doesn't it depend on religion?
Jimin: do you know anything about religion man??? 
Taehyung: than you're just stuck up man then  
Taehyung: fyi I do know a lot 
Taehyung: women love to scream for god when I 🍆🍩
“Ewww wtf” 
Jimin: we didn't need to know that
Taehyung: you guys are no fun -_- 
Kook: Just another day in this gc I see 
Taehyung: so boring  
Taehyung: where are my friends?! >.<
“They're responsible” 
Taehyung: like you're one to talk about responsibility
You gasp, snickering.
“Fuck you” 
Taehyung: come here then bby :P
Jimin sends a laughing gif, probably rolling from Taehyung's ridiculous messages. 
Jimin: we've matured Tae, time to find a girlfriend
Taehyung: I'd rather cut my dick off
“Can I do it? 🥺” 
Jungkook sends laughing emojis. 
Taehyung: I knew you were kinky little shit
“Seems like you're the kinky little shit” 
Taehyung: I never hid it ;)
“again… EW! -_-” 
Jimin: petition to cut tae's dick
“Maybe then he'll finally think with his head rather than his dick” 
Taehyung: you little bitch 
You send an emoji sending a kiss. 
Taehyung: y'all are so mean
Kook: I'm in the middle of photoshoot and I'm reading about Tae's dick
Kook: get a grip
“But I love talking about Tae's dick :(((“ 
Taehyung: YES!
Jimin: lmaooo 
Kook: seriously? -_- 
“Yes 😘” 
Taehyung: she can talk about yours if you want kook
Kook: I'm outta here 
“Taehyung -_-” 
Taehyung: just jk omg  
Jimin: let them live bro 
Taehyung: you're one to talk dude 
Jimin: fuck off
“Are the flight tickets returnable?” 
Taehyung: no you're stuck with us
Jimin: actually they are but you're going with us
Taehyung: you have no choice ;)
“I'm seriously gonna slap the shit out of you Taehyung” 
“But I can't I'm working” 
Taehyung: I can visit you ;) just try me 
Jimin: yeah don't do it girl 
“I'm seriously gonna kick your ass” 
Taehyung: I thought you wanted to slap the shit outta me :( 
“I can do both” 
Taehyung: I'm sure you can
Taehyung: Kook??
Kook: leave me alone
Taehyung: disrespectful brat
“Tell him to leave me alone too :<” 
Kook: yeah leave her alone too 
Taehyung: because what? what you're gonna do? :))
Jimin: you're never gonna let that go will you
Taehyung: nope ;) love to tease them
“Just come here, I'm gonna show you what's teasing” 
Taehyung: cumming!! 
Taehyung: oops I meant *coming :))) 
Kook: 🙄
“🤮” 
Jimin: lmaooooo they disgusted
Jimin: me too me too
Taehyung: now that my job's done, enjoy your day you fuckers 😘 
There are no messages for a while. You're guessing all of you are busy. It's the middle of the day after all. 
“Is he drunk?” 
Jimin: no… just taehyung
Somehow, that sums it all up. 
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After work, you're in the middle of sorting out your laundry when you videochat with the guys. Much to your surprise, you ended up clocking off early which doesn't happen very often – if ever. Junho has seemed to be in a good mood today, which resulted in letting some of you leave early. Yoongi included who couldn't seem to be happiest as he rushed out of the door as first. 
“Where's Jimin?” Taehyung asks, holding his phone down as he unlocks the door of his apartment. The angle would not be very flattering for most people, but it's unfair it's not unflattering when it comes to him at all. 
“I think he's on a date.” Jungkook answers, one hand on a wheel as his phone is perfectly angled at him.
You laugh at Taehyung's face. “You know, you could try to go on a date too. I've got a few coworkers who would surely be interested.” you tease him, laughing even more when you see his features scowl in a mere disgust and disinterest. 
Jungkook cackles, eyes focused on the road. 
“If they're interested in having the time of their lives, my phone's on.” Taehyung jokes.
“You're so confident about that.” Jungkook laughs.
“You know Kook, you should've known that–”
“Alright, alright. Spare me the details. I'm driving.” Jungkook cuts him off quickly, making a grimace that makes you giggle. 
“Besides, I'm heading to the club tonight.”
“Alone?” you ask, brows raised in surprise. 
It's not like Taehyung is not the type to go somewhere alone, especially to a club. But it used to be something at least one of you went to do together. 
“No, I'm meeting Mark in an hour.”
“Wait–Mark as in the Mark I worked with?” you ask, closing the washing machine's door with a thud as you stare wide-eyed at the screen.
“Yeah.”
“How do you know him?” you ask, “I mean—how did this happen?”
You haven't heard of Mark for months. It's true you've seen him a few times after you quit the job there while visiting, but he hasn't been on your mind since then. It's not that weird because Taehyung knows him, you introduced them and Taehyung is very social, but you would've never guessed they actually hung out. 
“You know.. My friends started to focus on monogamy, so–”
“Shut up.” You laugh as Taehyung grins before giving you a proper explanation.
“I don't really know, I was in this other club one night and he was working there. I remember him from the time you worked together. Anyway, got drunk and we talked. We bumped into each other a few times since then and we kinda started hanging out.”
“Well, say hi to him from me.”
“Will do.” 
A message pops on the top of your screen. You read the name, seeing it's Jungkook texting you. Taehyung starts to ramble, while Jungkook waits at the red light that illuminates his face as he cocks his head toward his phone, motioning for you to text him back.
Kook: movie night tonight? have a free evening
A sudden rush of happiness evokes in your chest and you're too quick to type back.
“Yes!! Got a few movies recs we can watch” 
“What are the two of you smiling about?” Taehyung asks, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
“Nothing, nothing.” you sing out, seeing Jungkook chuckle as he starts driving again. 
“You can join me.” Taehyung suggests.
“I don't feel like clubbing tonight.”
“Yeah, me neither. ” Jungkook hums.
“Boring, I'm telling y'all. You are getting boring as fuck.”
“We're getting older, Tae.” you laugh.
“You? You're the youngest out of all of us! ” he exclaims.
“I'm an old soul, Tae. What can I say?”
“Old soul my ass.” he grumbles.
The three of you laugh and joke around until the call ends shortly after. A few minutes later, there's a knock at your door signalizing you of someone's arrival. Opening the door with a huge grin, your features falter a little when you see him. Jeon Jungkook stands in front of your door, hair wet as he informs you of the short summer rain he caught on his way here and that you've completely missed. Tattooed hand goes into his hair, swiping them off his forehead as a few droplets drop down his thin black leather jacket.
He looks straight out of a movie. A total heartthrob. 
He arches his brow at you, chuckling. “You're gonna let me in or not?”
Fuck.
1K notes · View notes
konniesreality · 3 months
Text
There is always two sides to a coin and you’re choosing tails.
(void state post)
you are victimizing yourself. whether you like it, or not. You complain that you can’t enter the void, you whine and cry and you send thousands of asks to bloggers for help. stop victimizing yourself and expect something magical to help you get into the void. Do the inner work.
okay, i seriously have no idea how many times i have to repeat this. i have been repeatedly saying this so many times, yet it goes in one ear and out the other. please, for the love of everything divinely possible, stop over complicating the void state!
It is NOT HARD. You make it seem hard because that is YOUR ASSUMPTION! And I know that you are tired of hearing that, but this applies to everything in life. We are always manifesting unconsciously and consciously, and there is nothing we can do about it. How do you expect to get into the void if you keep telling yourself that you can’t?
it makes absolutely no sense. Do a method that is comfortable for you. Don’t do things because other people are doing it. If you don’t like a method, or a certain position, then do the void state how you want to! You like yoga nidra? Perfect. Do that then. But you don’t like affirming “I am in the void state” while doing the lullaby method? Okay. Just affirm “broccoli” and boom you are in the void. Why? Because you assumed it would work for you.
I get countless asks of people saying things like, “I worked on my self concept, but I didn’t enter the void state” NO SH*T SHERLOCK!! That’s what you told yourself!! I’m sure if you were actually a void master, you wouldn’t come into peoples asks complaining that YOU CANT DO IT!!
the void state is genuinely easy. It’s you. And it can be achieved so easily if you would persist and tell yourself it’s easy. so many of the success stories you see are people doing this thing: finding what works for them.
here is the thing: you can do it. You are just telling yourself that you cant. The biggest reason you guys aren’t entering the void, is your lack of persistence.
going back to the title, you could have been ONE second away from entering the void, but you complained like usual and rolled over. You guys aren’t focusing on the void state while attempting. You’re focusing on your body, symptoms, “am I doing this right, ugh my body hurts, did I choose the right subliminal” LIKE NO!! That’s why you aren’t entering the void like cmon now. Isn’t this obvious?!
focus on the black behind your eyes and relax. focus on your affirmations or whatever you’re doing. think about you getting your dream life, and use that happiness to persist in the void state. find what works for you. stop complaining and going into mine and bloggers asks complaining the void doesn’t work for you.
going back to the title, there are 2 sides to a coin. And you guys are choosing tails. instead of “I’m tired and don’t wanna affirm anymore” say “I’m so happy I’m in the void, my dream life is here!”
stop being a victim in your own reality and step it up!! I hope this post gave you a wake up call and reality check because oh boy, y’all need it.
733 notes · View notes
ktgoodmorning · 24 days
Text
"Stop smirking, I'm mad at you"
Ona Batlle x reader
You and Ona get lost, inspired by this pic of her.
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Masterlist
You were just in the process of jamming your feet in a pair of shoes when you heard the doorbell ring. Knowing it was your girlfriend coming to pick you up, you hobbled over to open it, still putting your shoes on. “Buenos días, cariño!” Ona greeted you with the same wide smile you had grown to love, giving you a peck on the lips before entering your apartment. 
“Hola, Oni. I’ll be ready in a second. Let me just grab my stuff.” Ona had made plans for the two of you to go hiking together, wanting to try out a new trail that Mapi had told her about. 
Hiking wasn’t your favorite thing but you could make an exception if it meant spending time with Ona. You trusted that she knew you well enough not to plan anything too long or you’d get tired of it, along with packing lots of snacks to make sure she could keep you in a good mood. 
You reappeared wearing a small backpack, ready for your short adventure, to find Ona sitting on your kitchen counter, waiting patiently. As soon as she saw you, she jumped down to give you another kiss. “All ready to go?” 
“Ready as I’ll ever be,.” You playfully rolled her eyes at her, knowing that you couldn’t have that bad of a time when you were with her. 
Ona stood up on her toes to meet you, kissing your nose, “you’ll have fun, I promise. Mapi said this was a good trail.”
“Oh so now we’re trusting Mapi to plan our dates?” 
“Okay. You got me there. But I do still think you’ll like this one.” You gave her a light chuckle as she pulled you towards the door, eager to get going and start your day together. 
The entire care ride there, Ona was excitedly telling you about your upcoming hike and everything that you might be seeing. She held your hand as she drove, constantly stealing looks at you to see if you were as enthusiastic as she was. You noticed her constant glances over at you and you found it amusing. It was sweet how much she cared about you having a good time with her, even if you both knew you always did. You gave her hand a squeeze, giving her a bit of reassurance as she drove. Even if you didn’t love the activity itself, you were excited to have this much uninterrupted time, just the two of you. Plus she had reassured you that it was supposed to be relatively short and easy so you knew you should be able to get through it without too many complaints. 
When she parked the car, the dark haired woman looked to you for reassurance once again. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can always do something else if you don’t want to.”
“Oni, I’m all in, okay? This sounds like it’ll be fun, and it’s not all that long anyways, I’ll be good I swear. I won’t even complain that much.” You gave her another kiss, hoping that she’d be settled by the fact that you were fully agreeing to this. It seemed to work as she gave you a quick nod. With that you left the car, ready for your girlfriend to lead the way. 
Ona was right that it did seem to be more interesting than some of the hikes you’d done. There was more to look at- more interesting flowers, a view of the water in the distance, it really wasn’t bad. It was a beautiful day so it made for good conversation as you moved alongside your girlfriend. At times you would stop to take a picture of the scenery or look at some bird that you saw off in the distance. It was nice, peaceful. 
After about an hour, you reached a small clearing that had a beautiful view of the ocean where you both decided to take a short break. Ona passed you the water bottle she brought for you as you both sat on some rocks, taking in the view. 
“So,” she looked over to you, “what do you think of the trail so far?” 
“You know, you were right. I like this one a lot better than the last, the scenery is better for sure.” 
“Well don’t tell Mapi cause it was her idea and she doesn’t need her ego inflated anymore.” You laughed as she put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her so you could rest your head on her shoulder. The Catalan immediately pressed a kiss to the top of your head while you just sat, lost in thought, taking in the peace and quiet.
You appreciated how Ona helped you get out of your comfort zone and expand your world. She could push you to do things you never normally would while still making sure you were comfortable. 
As it often did, your girlfriend’s voice broke you from your thoughts, “Should we start to head back so we make it in time for dinner?” 
You gave her a nod and she loosened her arm around you, both knowing that you’d be the first to start complaining once you got hungry. Once you stood up, you offered Ona your hand, pulling her up to join you, giving her a quick kiss as soon as she did. Her lips chased yours, not wanting to separate for long. You smiled deeply, loving how she could never get enough of you as she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in tight for a longer kiss. 
The two of you only separated when you heard another pair of hikers approaching, grinning at each other as you did so. “Shall we?” Ona offered you her hand and began to lead the two of you back in the direction you came from. 
You appreciated the peacefulness of the hike back. The sun had lowered slightly in the sky and was casting a new set of shadows across your path, illuminating the scenery in a new way. The new lighting made you take notice of things you hadn’t seen before on your way out- more flowers, more little rodents scampering down the trees next to you. It was beautiful. For a second you were almost enjoying the idea of hiking. 
At some point along the way, you noticed that at every split in the path Ona would stop and look around for a while before continuing picking which way to go. It seemed at first  like she was just taking in the view, just as you were doing, but her pauses became longer and longer the further you went. You started to take notice of this but figured she must have a reason. Ona knew what she was doing, she went on hikes somewhat regularly, so she would definitely know the way back better than you would.  
When you realized that you had been walking for an hour and a half and still saw nothing but trees ahead of you, concern started to wash over you. “Oni, you know the way back, yes?” 
Your girlfriend stopped briefly and gave you a look, eyebrows raised, “Of course I do. I just wanted to take a little different route back so we could see some more of the trail. Is that okay?”
”Of course, it’s beautiful. I’m glad we get to see a bit more of it.” You smiled at her, reassured that the change in route was intentional. Ona didn’t seem to return your smile as she turned back to the trail and continued to lead you forward. 
You continued to walk, keeping a close eye on Ona’s face as you did so, trying your best to read her thoughts. Her face would scrunch up in confusion at times as she tried to hide the way she continued to look around, trying to figure out her surroundings. The longer you walked, the more sure you were that you were lost. Your girlfriend didn’t realize how clearly her feelings showed on her face so it was becoming obvious to you how confused she was as she continued to try to find her way back to the car. 
After it had been about another half hour, you gave her hand a tug, making her stop to look back at you, a serious look across your face. “Oni, we’re lost.” You were surprised to see her roll her eyes in response, apparently ready to get defensive. Hoping to calm her down some, you lifted her hand in yours to place a soft kiss on the back of it. “It’s okay, just let me help you find our way back.”
“We’re not lost! I can get us back just fine!” she snapped at you before sighing heavily, apparently annoyed at you for questioning her. “I have snacks if you’re hungry or something but you need to trust me. I know what I’m doing!” she dropped your hand and started forward again, not bothering to look back at you. 
Even though you knew she was serious, it was so hard to take your girlfriend’s anger seriously. Especially with how she was now stomping down the path, it was like watching an angry toddler. She couldn’t help it, she was just so cute. When she offered you snacks in the middle of being mad at you, it was hard to take her bad mood personally. You smiled softly to yourself while continuing behind her
As you followed her closely, you secretly pulled up the trail map on your phone. Ona made it clear she was frustrated that you questioned her but you just wanted to make sure you made it back before dark. 
When you came to another divide in the road, she stopped, eyebrows knit together, trying to decide which way was right. You wanted to stay quiet but when she tried to lead you the exact opposite direction from the car, you had to speak up. 
“Love, I think we need to go this way.” You tried your best to speak gently, not wanting to upset her any further. The trail map said that if you took the path you were suggesting, you’d only have a couple more minutes until you reached the car, much closer than either of you realized. Certainly it would be a much quicker way back than the way Ona was trying to currently lead you, directly away from the car. At this point you were just waiting for her to give up her stubbornness and agree that you were right. 
You didn’t notice the small smile that had crept onto your face as you both stood in a deadlock, staring at each other, until she finally broke.
“Stop smirking at me, I'm mad at you!” this time you definitely laughed at her as she was one step away from an actual tantrum. “Amorrrrrrrr, stop laughing at me.”
“Oni, you know I love you. And I’m sorry for laughing at you. But if we go this way, we’re literally less than five minutes from the car.” You took her hands in yours, calming her slightly as you spoke. The Catalan’s eyes were on the ground, seemingly ashamed to have gotten you lost on what should’ve been an easy hike. “Why don’t we head back to the car, we can grab some dinner, and then we’ll go back to my place and do the usual.” Ona finally looked up at you, confused by what you meant. “You know, the usual. We eat snacks, sit on the couch, ignore the TV, and make out.”
Your comment got a smile from her, the first one you’d seen in at least an hour. She gave you a shy nod, still not fully past the shame of leading you astray for the last two hours. “Oni, give me a hug.” Your girlfriend didn’t need to be told twice, launching herself into you without a second thought.  
She held you tightly, clearly needing the hug more than you realized, before she mumbled into your shoulder, “sorry for getting us lost.” “It’s okay, love. Just don’t tell Mapi cause she’ll never let you hear the end of it.” You gave her a short kiss before grabbing her hand again, this time taking the lead yourself and successfully making your way back to the car.
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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HOLD ME, KISS ME ♡
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♪ the little dippers — forever ♪
WANTED: JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE - SUSPECTED MURDER - $1000 REWARD - DANGEROUS! IF SPOTTED DO NOT APPROACH!
pairing: outlaw!johnb + sheltered!reader ⋆₊⊹♡
synopsis: your wishes come true when a beautiful boy is found sleeping peacefully in your barn. much to his surprise, you don’t care about who he is or what he has or hasn’t done — you just want to ensure he stays forever.
cw: mentions of prayer, religion and god (for plot purpose) reader has two parents, western!au, innocence kink, slight manipulation, mentions of crime, breeding kink, smut ♡
“Please deliver me a man, save me from this loneliness. Make him kind, and strong, and handsome. I vow to make him the happiest man alive.”
Your forehead rests against your clasped hands where you kneel beside your bed, speaking out loud as there was no one else to speak to. Your parents had gone on a trip for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the farmhouse all by your lonesome.
Isolated didn’t feel like the correct term. You were grateful, happy to live off the fat of your father’s land in the middle of nowhere, but sometimes you wished you had someone to share it with. Someone your own age who was there to see you. You had become the perfect host, thrilled when your parents would bring home guests once in a blue moon. You’d tie ribbons in your hair and pick the perfect dress and set the table like your mother taught you. You often imagined setting the table for a family of your own.
Your own farm house. The thought sent you off to sleep each night, walking through the home in your mind as if it were really real, feeling the creaking of the painted wooden porch beneath your feet as you enter, the distant cooing of your baby being comforted by your husband in the next room. White shabby-chic panels across the walls with oak furniture and knitted throw pillows and lots and lots of warm light. The kitchen table would have the perfect lace floral embroidered table cloth draped across it which you’d serve the heartiest dinners on each night. The babies room would be painted mint green, no— maybe pastel yellow, with handmade toys and a music box that played your song and oh, the master bedroom… where you and your husband rest your head would be flooded with natural light. A haven. All yours.
The details to the decoration often changed, new inspiration plucked from the papers that father would bring home and new favourite colours integrating themselves into your home plans but one thing remained the same each time. Your husband. He never had a face, but it wasn’t important. He was warm, strong without having to prove just how macho he was, kind— you could feel his love from the next room on. That was all you really wanted. You could forget the house, forget the land, live in a barn for all you care — you just wanted to experience a love like the ones in the fairytale books stacked high in your room.
It had been a week already of this routine you’d grown used to. You wake up, feed yourself and then the chickens, come inside, clean yourself and then the house, paint, crotchet or read — however the mood takes you, eat lunch, tend to the crops, brush the horses, maybe milk a cow, come inside and cook dinner, bathe, think about your dream husband and grind your wet messy cunt into a pillow, feel guilty, beg for forgiveness and then sleep. It was an easy life, and you couldn’t complain— but you couldn’t help feel the world had more to offer.
Your mother often told you that gifts from above come when you least expect it, you just had to keep your eyes open. You always wondered how one might find these gifts with no idea where to look.
Your gift arrived bright and early the next morning.
Well, not technically as early as it should have been, infact you probably nearly missed it. The roosters calls at 6AM each morning, but on that very day you had decided to sleep in. A few hours wouldn’t kill them, you think as you pull a plush white pillow to lay over your ear— it’s not like the chickens would starve.
At 11:45AM, you stumble bare foot onto the grass outside, setting out on your walk to the barn a little way up the land. Your pert nipples harden, awakened by the cool morning breeze as the thin white fabric of your nightdress blows in the wind. With the sunlight shining directly on it, it was sure to be totally and utterly see through— and you suppose that was one upside to living in the middle of nowhere, yards upon yards from civilisation. No one would see you. Sigh.
You feed the chickens, totally blind before it even occurs to you that anything might be astray. Infact, you don’t even seem to notice that the barn door was left ajar, as opposed to how you usually leave it bolted by a wooden slab to prevent the animals from wandering off or being massacred by foxes. You suppose that’s the price you pay for sleeping in, you live in dreamworld for the next few hours.
The Earth seems to stop turning for a moment when you see him.
You’re more curious than anything, wide eyed, holding your breath as to be totally silent despite having been humming and speaking to the chickens only a moment prior. You tiptoe through the hay, shards of straw sprouting between your painted toes and pin-needling your sole as you draw closer to the man. A fallen angel, your first thought.
He’s half curled up onto his side in the hay behind the stable for your white pony. He has thick-ish arms crossed over his chest, his hat laying over his face seeming to be serving as a purpose to block out the light. You figure as you hadn’t woken up him before, a closer inspection couldn’t hurt. Unhurriedly, you sink down into a squat beside him, knees pointed upwards and feet taking your balance. A real man, in your barn? It couldn’t be. You chew on your bottom lip, goggle-eyed and inquisitive as you cautiously lift the hat away from his face.
He doesn’t wake and you’re for some reason thankful. It gives you time to observe him, the breath all but knocked from your body as you take in just how beautiful he is. He was perfect, and just like what you were hoping for when you wished to be delivered a husband.
Dark eyelashes kissing at the rim of his closed eyes, pale lips and freckles, sunkissed across his nose. Your eyes trail over and across him, now with his face in mind taking in account what he looks like as a whole. You were still in disbelief, a real man sleeping in your barn. But then again, as your eyes skim lower and you notice the blood seeping through his shirt over his stomach — you wonder if he was sleeping. Surely he wasn’t dead? Only God could be so cruel to deliver you the perfect man without a pulse.
So, you press two cold fingers to his neck, searching for the rhythmic beats signifying life. As soon as you do so, the man jolts awake — wide brown eyes meeting yours.
“Jesus.”
This is where the stare off commences— you were sat in a squat giving him a straight shot up your night dress with dome like eyes and parted lips, observing him like he was some sort of alien life form that had happened upon your barn infront of your very eyes. Your chest rises and falls, and his gender fails to betray him as his eyes fall there for a moment, subconsciously noticing the way your bare tits strain against the thin fabric with each exhale. Somewhere in the back of his mind he can’t help but acknowledge that you’re a pretty thing, totally his type. In any other scenario, he might’ve seen you at a local tavern and introduced himself, getting you tipsy and loose, making you giggle beneath his soft gaze and coarse hands in some dimly lit booth before realising he’s far too respectful to take advantage of you like that.
With his eyes open, the picture is complete — and he truly is as beautiful as you thought. He had a puppy like quality to his eyes, they were big and brown but from the sunlight streaming in you could see specks of orange which intrigues you. You wish to look closer, but you feel it’s not the time. His adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow and he tears his eyes away from yours to look around, still disorientated from sleep. He touches his wound with gentle fingers and he winces, going to push himself up on his elbows.
You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, warm deep voice raspy from rest as he dives into a sequence of begging.
“Does anyone know I’m in here?”
“No, I—”
“Okay, that’s— okay, please — hey, please don’t tell anyone. I won’t lie to you, I’m in a little bit of trouble with the law, nothing super bad I swear just — I needed somewhere safe to sleep so I ended up here. Didn’t take anything and uh— and I’ll be out of your hair now that I’m up.” He rambles, continually glancing at the barn doors, expecting Sheriff Shoupe to bust them down and take him in at any moments notice. You say nothing for a moment and he pushes himself to his feet, eyes squeezing shut at the soreness of his injury. “Think it’s easiest if I just—”
He cuts himself off this time, because you slip your hand into his— stopping him from going anywhere. His eyebrows jump up and he freezes on the spot, staring down at your doe eyes with a wide and confused gaze of his own.
“…Hi?”
“You just got here? Why’d you have to go?” You sound sad, and he actually can’t believe what he’s hearing. Not only did he break into your barn, on private land — but he’d totally overstayed his non-existent welcome, and now you didn’t want him to leave?
“P—pardon me? Ma’am?” He tries to be respectful, when what he really wants to ask is along the lines of ‘What the fuck?’.
You scramble to stand up and he helps you using the hand that you’re grasping. “Well, you won’t get far with a wound like that. It could get infected. Maybe you could come inside, let me dress it. You can refuel… maybe stay a few days?” The last part sounds wrong coming from your mouth. He’s a stranger for goodness sake— everything your parents had taught you about safety went against this and plus you were practically begging. You might have been embarrassed, if there wasn���t such a nagging feeling in your stomach telling you that this was meant to be.
He scoffs out a chuckle, because he thinks there’s no way you’re serious— but when he sees your wide eyes bouncing between his own, searching for something he couldn’t quite put a finger on— he realises you’re being completely genuine and his expression melts into a more worried gaze, shuffling a little closer on his feet.
“Look, I really appreciate your hospitality, but you have done more than enough, really. Just the fact you didn’t have the sheriff busting in to drag me away is something I will be very grateful for. Believe me. But I can’t drag you into this. Anyway, don’t you have family? That you live with?”
You sigh, looking down at your intertwined hands that you had yet to release, staring as if you were trying to memorise the feeling of a man’s touch incase you really couldn’t convince him to stay.
“Well yes, but they’re on a trip you see — and they’re going to be away for another week and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m awfully lonely, and I know you’re a stranger and all but I could really use the extra set of hands… plus it’s the least you could do… for breaking in…” You feel you’re pushing it with that last part, but decide to proceed with it anyway, any means necessary to get him to stay. He bites his bottom lip in thought as you stare up through your lashes and he thinks screw it. He’s sure you’re not setting him up, a little thing like you would be far too weak to pull that off.
“Okay, I… don’t see why not then.” He doesn’t sound certain, but you make such a good offer he’d be a fool not to accept. He bends down and swoops his hat off the floor, holding it to his chest and you take his hand once more, guiding him out of the barn.
He presses his lips together in an awkward smile at the way you confidently lead him, almost having to break into a jog to match your eager pace. Once nearing the house, you tell him your name and he nods — taking in the scenery.
You’re sitting him down in the living room before he can blink, and he takes in the setting around him. A real cozy place, a family home for sure — with a pale blue couch, a scratchy patchwork blanket draped over the back and floral cushions. There’s photos of you in multiple spots around the room, an only child — he gathers. The main photo sits on the mantelpiece, framed, a set of parents curtaining your smiling face in the image. You seem to be a few years younger, fuller in the face, still cute as a button.
He doesn’t quite realise you’d gone anywhere until you’re returning — the contents of an old first aid box rumbling in your grip. You give him a reassuring smile and lower to kneel by his feet, opening up the container and fishing around for some cotton pads.
“Do you have a name, mister?”
He clears his throat, trying to gage your reaction once he speaks, attempting to work out if the name rings any bells. “Uh, yeah. John B. John B. Routledge. You might’ve… actually heard of me. If you have, uh— I’m sorry.”
You don’t seem to react in any kind of alarming way, a smile grazing your face as you pour rubbing alcohol onto a soft white pad.
“Heard of you how? Are you famous?”
“…You’ve never seen those big ‘Wanted’ posters up in town? Kinda got my picture up on one of them.”
You peel up his shirt revealing tanned, toned skin and a wound that had crusted over with blood. You press the pad to it and he winces, knuckles turning white in his lap and head lulling back against the seat for a moment.
“Sorry.” You furrow your brows apologetically before continuing to mop up all the dried blood. “Oh, and I’m not allowed up in town. Not by myself anyway. So, I don’t keep up to date with all that… stuff.” You pull away, rifling through the box for another clean pad. He nods, eyes jumping to look at his wound and then back to you, watching your face for any discomfort regarding his presence. Oddly, there was none. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s wildly apparent now that you’ve truly been sheltered your whole life. There was this innocence you carried that was hard to come by, a lack of judgement that was sweet but made him worry for you slightly. You were lucky he had a good heart.
“That’s… probably for the best, actually. You know, they like to tell lies. I’m being falsely accused.” He speaks a little slower, and enunciates the last part as if you might not understand, and as expected— you hang onto every word, lips a little parted and wide eyed. It’s pretty cute, albeit inappropriate considering he’s a stranger.
As he speaks, you wrap his wound, pressing the sticky part down onto his skin before gently pressing the cotton covering his injury. “Well I’m really sorry about that John B. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You chirp, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss over the dressing, pulling back to offer him a sweet smile. The lines on John B’s forehead smooth out, his concerned expression melting into his own gentle smile of disbelief.
He wonders what the odds are that he’d stumbled upon a real life angel. Well, it was that — or you wanted to chop his body into tiny pieces whilst he slept and add it to your cauldron. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet, but you were pretty — and he was a total loverboy, so stupidly he was willing to take that risk.
He pulls his shirt back down over his now dressed wound and you begin to clear your things back into the first aid box.
“Is there anything I can do for you? Like, anything you need help with around here?” He offers and you look up at him, brows furrowing with adoration.
“Goodness, no— I couldn’t ask that of you.”
“Said you needed an extra pair of hands earlier.” He challenges with a smile.
“I only said that to get you to come inside. With your injury, I couldn’t possibly put you to work.”
He scrunches his face a little with a half scoff, half smile and shrugs one shoulder. “Please, this thing? It barely even stings. Come oooon.” He croons with a smirk, and you really feel the full effects of his charm now— the warm timbre of his voice headed straight to your clit giving it a heartbeat of its own.
“Fine.” It comes out airy with a giddy smile and you take his hand yet again, almost getting distracted by the coarseness against your palm, the sight of bulging veins along the backs of them.
Your bare feet are treading lightly over soft wood chip once more as you lead him toward the destroyed fence round the left side perimeter of the farm.
“So… I suppose you could carry all the planks back from the fence that fell down in that awful storm last week. I was gonna wait for my daddy to get home to get him to do it ‘cus I’m much too weak for something like that.” You point, and John B’s brown fluffy head follows your finger to the destination at hand. He nods, a doable task.
“Well a girl like you shouldn’t be lifting a finger anyway.” He turns his head back to face you with a smile, eyes squinted in the sun. He looks radiant, no sign of pain anymore and you look down at your night gown, scrunching it in your clammy hands with an uncontrollable grin at the floor, harbouring such an innocent crush on the boy already that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
His gaze stays on you for a tick whilst you step quietly and he speaks up again, tilting his head a little inquisitively. “I really, really hope this doesn’t sound rude… ‘cus I don’t mean to be. But… are you not… married?” He trails off, thinking of all the times he’s been walloped round the head in taverns for asking questions of a similar nature. Your smile doesn’t go away, your gentle nature not retiring for a moment.
“Oh no, no. I don’t meet boys often. Thats why I’m happy you came!” You chirp, hand reaching out to softly squeeze his arm. “Can be like husband and wife whilst you stay round.”
He just laughs in response. Not necessarily in a mean way, but the same way you laugh when a child tells you they’re going to be an astronaut when they grow up.
The brutal beating of the sun does nothing to stop the honest work you’d put the self proclaimed outlaw up to, he seems to be deep in thought often — carrying the planks to and fro. You slip inside for a while to change into something more appropriate, a sweet and floral sundress that ties up at the straps and hugs you in a more womanly way. You’d rubbed your lips together as you fixed your hair in the mirror before bringing him a sandwich in the early afternoon. “You are adorable.” He grins when you do so, and it wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for on your dress but it still made you warm in the face. He simply brought out a true primal bodily reaction from you— that’s why you’d skipped the panties under your dress. He was making you excited and slippery down there and you just didn’t see the point. You stay out for hours at a time to chat with him. Your affections grow.
John B. Routledge finally returns back to the house when he’s all finished and you let him lay down for a nap on your couch, finally getting some real rest in. Whilst he does so, you spend hours preparing a hearty meal — the type you reserve for when mama and papa have guests round. As the pie browns off just a moment longer in the oven, you come to the man’s side, kneeling beside him and stroking his fluffy hair back.
“I made dinner. Sure you’re really hungry.” You whisper and his eyes flutter once more, the arms that were crossed over his chest stretching out as he wakes. You sit back to give him space, and when he opens his eyes you’re there with a smile — the orange beam of sunset haloing your head. Something about an angel drafts through his mind once more and he stretches.
“Oh boy, I slept longer than I was meant to huh?” He sits up and you shrug, leading him through to the kitchen where you’d laid the round table. Steaming seasoned vegetables in a bowl, freshly picked by you. Warm bread, baked and scored by you with flowers the centrepiece of the table. A jug of gravy there too. There’s a tray of mashed potatoes waiting, creamy and delicious looking. Routledges stomach audibly growls and he chuckles at this as he sits down, taking in the scenery you’d laid out. “You… have spoiled me. All this for someone who breaks into your barn?” He chuckles as he lowers himself into the seat.
You follow him round the table with a giddy smile. “Told you I like havin’ guests.” You perch your bottom on his leg, an arm wrapped around his neck as your feet swing. It felt right. You’d always wanted to sit with a man this way, you’d seen it before in the picture shows. Man and wife, domestic bliss. His brows jump up and he clears his throat awkwardly.
“Oh… sweetheart, you shouldn’t do that. I am a— a stranger, after all.” He tries to do the responsible thing, even though there was something about your innocent brashness that was turning him on beyond belief. Your eyebrows knit in the centre, a line between them and your bottom lip seems to have doubled in size from how it pushes out.
“But I like you?” You mewl, rejected. It all seems so simple to you, which is probably feels super unfair. No one had taught you how to address men because you were so sheltered, and now it was giving you all of these complicated feelings that John B would have to deal with.
“And I like you — a whole bunch. You know I’m super grateful for you taking me in and… all that good stuff. But sitting right here is gonna… make me excited. Because I’m a guy. Go ahead and hop off for me.” He taps your lower back gently and you huff, feeling upset and rejected about the whole thing. His eyes are all wide and hopeful as he stares at you, like he wanted to make sure you were okay. The way he handles you so sweetly made your stomach stir despite your current mope.
You drag your feet to the oven comically and he stifles a chuckle at how dramatic you were, despite his sympathy. You place your hands into oven gloves and take out the pie— perfect and golden. You walk it to the table and John B sits up a little straighter, eyes darting between you and the food.
“Did this all by yourself? You have got a real knack for cooking. Should put you on the TV.” He grins, switching on the charm to attempt to loosen up your silent sulk. You nod, eyes casted down childishly and he reaches out to touch your arm. “Thank you, pretty girl.”
A small smile slips out, and he flickers his eyes over to the heart shape you’d scored onto the pie, his own lips twitching up into a smirk. “That for me?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmm.”
You end up giggling, his smile too infectious and your bad moment is all forgotten as you serve him a slice, plating up for him and then yourself before you eat. John B digs in ravenously, it’s almost erotic — the way he’s groaning at how good it all tastes, gravy dripping from his lips as he licks more off his fingers. He was clearly less proper-mannered than you, but you liked that. Table manners were for boring old people anyway. Maybe everything about him got you going, but you had to really concentrate on getting some food inside you instead of just watching the show of eating he was putting on.
Once you’re finished, and he’s finishing up on his third helping — you let your giggles die down from the wild goose chase story he relayed for you, one where he of course wound up the hero which only made your heart beat harder for him. Your socked foot begins to prod at his ankle, sliding up his leg until it rests in his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind, the food having lowered his guard just that bit as he leans back in his chair, undoing his belt. He adjusts his hips on the seat as he does so and your thighs clench.
“So what did you think?” You ask, though you think it’s clear that he liked the meal from the empty plates and unbuckled belt. He lets out a long satisfied sigh, gazing at you for a moment with a kind smile.
“I think, whoever gets to marry you is a lucky son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together, almost like he was disappointed about the idea of you with another. You blink, the hands resting beneath your chin dreamily slowly falling to play with eachother on the table.
“Why not you, John B?” You question sadly, giving him those eyes again. The ones that tug on his heart and made him wanna give you everything and anything you ask for. He lifts a napkin, bringing it to his mouth as he shakes his head dismissively, closing his eyes with a frown.
“Mm—mm.” The tissue fabric muffles the sound. “You don’t wanna marry me, believe me — okay, I’m an outlaw. Your parents would never in a billion years accept me. Anyway you… you deserve someone less rough and tumble, you know? Like a prince from a storybook. A bubblewrap life. Not… whatever this is.” He gestures to himself, more so the browned blood stain on his shirt.
You sigh, determined. “My parents would understand. They’re — they’re generous people.”
“Really? ‘Cus they don’t even let you leave the house.” He quips quickly in response, smirking at your naivety and you fall silent for a moment. His face flattens just a tad from guilt. You were far too soft for that kind of tone.
When you look up at him again, your face is more solemn — wide eyes searching his for a shred of understanding. “You don’t understand, John B. There are actual scary, dangerous men out there that would take me and do terrible things to me.”
The outlaw leans his elbows on the table, his lips stretched into an amused smile at the irony. There wasn’t an inkling of threat about the gesture, pure amusement coursing through the energy between you from his side alone. “And how do you know I’m not one of those scary, dangerous men. Hm?” His voice is warm, it seems to rumble straight from his chest. You release a shaky sigh.
“Well you haven’t hurt me yet?” Your voice lilts out, and you engage in a long stare off. There’s a different kind of tension in the air now, it’s hot and feels heavy on you. It oozes into the nooks and crannies of your balmy skin and slithers between your thighs. You can’t take the heat and you stand, beginning to bring his dishes to the sink to wash. It’s quiet for a while, John B watching you with this thoughtful and almost knowing smile as you tidy up around him. Even he couldn’t run from how good ‘domestic bliss’ felt.
You let yourself indulge in the fantasy too. Wife cleans up, husband sits behind at the table and sips at the drink she poured him. You wanted nothing more than to experience this everyday, and your heart sinks sadly at the fact that this will probably be the last. You lose yourself to thoughts and daydreams as you scrub away, to the point you nearly don’t hear him stand up, slowly walking to lean against the sink beside you.
You smile at him politely as he eyes you, and return your gaze to the plate in your hand. You mustn’t dwell. He moves, and soon he’s behind you, a hand resting against the sink beside your hip, head craning round to look at you from the other side. “You’re really serious about this husband and wife thing, aren’t you?”
“Very serious, sir.” You bat your lashes at him earnestly and his cock stirs in his pants at the title, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Bless your heart, you were only being courteous. He presses his lips together in thought and the side of your face warms with his slow exhale. Turning your body, you face him fully now. “I just think it was divine intervention that you wound up in my barn. You’re like an angel sent to take away my loneliness.” You’re shy, a little bashful about your beliefs and without thinking he cups your cheek in reassurance, thumb swiping slowly over the skin.
His eyes take in your every detail, and your lips part with a wobbly breath, nervous. “May I kiss you, John B?” You address, just as his thumb strokes the delicate skin below your eye. He grins, slightly amused by your formality and simply nods his head.
You stand on tip toes to reach him, socked feet almost knocking at his boots as your body presses to his, lips meeting. You’re a little messy, inexperienced— which comes as no surprise to the boy as he tilts his head, welcoming your mouth at another angle and taking control in order to guide you. You’re mostly a quick learner, slowing your pace to something much more sultry and he nearly can’t contain his excitement. He wants to be a gentleman, but as soon as he introduces his tongue — you lose composure, needy and all but panting into his mouth right then and there in the kitchen. He pulls away and breaks the string of saliva that connects your lips with his thumb, stroking it over your moist bottom lip as you stare at him readily.
He tilts his head, eyes wide and almost innocent as he gestures away. “You… want me to show you what husbands do with their wives?”
You nod so hard your eyes nearly roll back like one of those baby-dolls.
John B is the one to take your hand this time, leading you slowly and carefully through the house. You partially think he’s giving himself time to rethink what he’s about to do, but from the way your pussy is drooling into your panties — it feels set in stone. He finally reaches your bedroom and you watch his head move left and right as he takes it in, cheek lifting with a smile at the China dolls on the wall and the frilly white bedsheets. It’s clear your room hasn’t changed since you were a little girl. The sun is just starting to disappear behind your lace curtains and he switches on the lamp, sitting you down.
The man joins you, easing himself down at your side and cupping your cheek as he begins to kiss you again. He takes it slow, but the passion and need only grows as the splayed hand on your back begins to slide upwards until its cupping the back of your head and he’s beginning to slowly lower you to lie down like you’re made of glass.
Naturally you shuffle up the bed and he follows, hovering over you and leading with his tongue this time — the wet muscles wrapping around eachother languidly making you moan, legs falling wider apart.
“I wanna make you feel really good, okay? That okay with you?” He asks gently and you nod, sucking in a breath. You’d waited for something like this since you knew what pleasure was, craved the touch of a man with strong coarse hands and a wet mouth. Routledges thumbs swipe across your tits through your dress, massaging them until your nipples were poking painfully through the fabric as he burrows into your neck, licking and sucking.
Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as he tugs gently at your dress, eyes meeting yours once more.
“Let’s get this off, yeah?”
He tugs the garment up and over, puffing out his cheeks as he blows air out his mouth, brows raised at the sight of your naked body. You look so soft, so pliable beneath him. He was already hard just from kissing you, but this made him feel like he might combust. “Took your underwear off?” He smirks, pressing kisses to your stomach and between your tits before bringing his face up to eye level with you, same kind but teasing smile on his face. “Have you been needing me aaall day? Hm?”
You turn your head to the side, flustered and clammy with a whine— eyes screwed shut. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh, now you’re shy?”
“No, s’just — when you speak like that— n’say stuff like that… makes me hurt…” You’re breathless, hips twitching and bucking slightly as he grins, pearly whites showing.
“Aw.” Is all he manages before continuing his descent down.
He’s a real tease, spending an ungodly amount of time on your tits— sucking, licking and biting your nipples until you’re arched off the bed, teary eyed and wincing from sensitivity. It’s then, and only then he starts to kiss lower, pushing himself down your pristine sheets until he’s settling between your legs, gently easing your ankles upwards so that your knees faced the sky, your cunt fluttering and open right infront of his face.
“Well she’s very pretty.” He smiles up at you, thumbs coming up to spread you. He leans in slowly, hot breath fanning over your heat before he simply presses the softest kiss to your clit. He draws back again as you whimper, running the pads of his thumbs up along your spread folds. “Hear that? So wet, pretty girl.” He marvels in a whisper.
“Just want you to make it better.” You mewl and he nods slowly in understanding, tongue swiping over his lips as he observes you.
“That I can definitely do.” He confirms before leaning in, licking and sucking at your clit as his thumb automatically rolls downwards to massage your hole. You gasp, knees shooting up towards your chest as he eats you, similarly to the pure fervour and passion he only recently devoured the meal you cooked for him. You wondered how any appetite remained.
When he sinks his middle finger inside you, your stomach tenses — a high pitched noise of relief and utter devastation leaving you. You had no idea how badly you’d craved fullness to this very moment, and you weren’t even halfway there. He’s smiling against you, glancing up as you flutter around his single digit and make plenty of noise for him. “Yeah? Think you’ve really been needing some of that, little girl.” He nearly laughs at your extreme reaction. He had to admit, it was fun doing this with someone so inexperienced. Everything to you seemed like the best thing ever.
He eats and eats away, proving himself to have quite the monstrous appetite for your slick . Your feet rest on his shoulders at one point, lost in pleasure as you whine and writhe and to keep you out of the way, the outlaw pushes your legs up and pins them there, nose deep in your gloss.
“Feels too good— feels— hurts!” You cry, because you don’t know how to put that you’re simply aching to cum.
“Doesn’t hurt, sweet girl. Just let it happen.” He corrects in that low reverberation that you’ve grown to love. After a series of ‘Uh’ and ‘Mm’s, you feel yourself hitting that peak — the one you usually reach all over the soft cotton of your pillow, but ten times the strength.
As soon as he senses this happening, he doubles down and continues repeating the same action with his mouth over and over until you’re squealing and pushing him away, curling into a ball as your completion dribbles out of your quivering hole.
He grins, real proud of himself as he pushes up on his hands to near you, gently shushing you the same way you would to soothe a baby to sleep. “I know, that was a lot huh?” He coo’s, rubbing your back with his warm hand as you suffer the aftershocks, clenching and whimpering, a smaller clammy hand reaching out to his shirt to grab a fist of it.
He forces you softly onto your back, stroking a hand over your warm forehead. For someone so convinced the two of you shouldn’t be together, he sure did look at you like you were his entire world. By the gaze shared, you would never know the two of you only met that morning.
“What now, hm?” He smiles, quiet. You open your mouth to speak, and your voice rasps from the loud and explosive release that had you calling out.
“Wanna… make you feel as good as you made me feel, John B.”
He licks his lips, thinking over it. If it wasn’t already clear, his dick was throbbing in his pants just from pleasing you— and had you wanted to end things there he would be sure to take a trip to the bathroom to finish in his hand. Maybe swipe a pair of your underwear from the basin for inspiration, but that made his stomach tense with guilt.
“Think I can manage that, yeah.” He nods before reaching slowly for his belt. “Sure?”
“Mhm.”
“Good, good.”
His belt is still undone from after dinner so he slides the snakey leather from its loops with one hand, the act more attractive than you anticipated which made you clench once more with need. He sits on the edge of the bed and you usher up beside him, pressing your naked body to him and ghosting your drooly lips over his jaw line as he sighs, working his length out of his pants.
“Oh my.” You breathe, as soon as you look down. Now you hadn’t had much experience in dealing with the male anatomy, clearly — but you knew for certain John B had to be miles larger than the average man. His cock stood tall, straight — slightly mauve towards the tip with a beautiful blue vein drifting down his shaft like a river on a mountain. His balls sat beneath, heavy and pink — inviting in a way that made your mouth water primally.
“Yeah? This is… what m’working with.” He chuckles, sounding a little nervous.
“How do I…” You mutter after a moment and he’s quick to take your hand, pressing your fingers so that it forms a cup and bringing it to your mouth.
“You wanna spit for me, pretty? Right here.” He encourages and whilst you don’t understand, you do as he wishes, letting a bubbly glob of saliva drool out into the cupped crevice of your hand. You look up at him with wide unsure eyes, searching for praise or reassurance that you’d done as he asked. He presses his lips together at the sweet and submissive expression, shifting his hips a tad in excitement. “Mm, fuck.” He punctuates with an airy chuckle, ticking his head in a single shake.
He brings your hand down and begins to smear it all over himself, releasing a shaky exhale as he does so. “So, uh… you’re gonna wanna move your hand. Just like this.” He sighs as he works your hand up and down his shaft, slowly jerking him off. Your eyes flicker between his face and pretty dick to make sure you were doing it right. As you do so, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, muttering a “So sweet, bubba.” Against your mouth.
This only encourages you to gain confidence, doing whatever feels right. You twist your hand— squeezing just a tad harder towards the tip as that seemed to be what made him release that heavenly groan, jaw constantly agape as he watches your hand.
“Theeere you go sweetheart. Easy right? Like milking a cow.” He kisses your temple briskly once more before his eyes screw shut, chest heaving with quicker breaths. You get carried away, fascinated by the pearly precum that seeps from his slit as you work him with your hand and following your own judgment you lean down. You figure if he used his mouth on you, you could return the favour.
His eyes open with a loud shudder when you tentatively wrap your plush lips around his tip, working your hand up and down to try and squeeze more of the interesting salty flavour from him. You let out a long drawn out moan of your own as you feel your clit throbbing with desire, liberating his precum from your mouth to let it dribble back down his shaft in messy bubbles.
He winces, placing a hand on your shoulder and removing you with such an abrupt speed that you nearly flew off the side of the bed. You sit up straight, slick mouth pouting as your eyes flicker between his, worrying that you’d done something wrong. There’s a second of just looking at eachother, before you stumble over some words.
“S—Sorry. Did I hurt—”
“No, no God no. I uh— I just wasn’t sure if I should make a mess all over that pretty face just yet.” His wide eyed expression melts into a reassuring smile, thumb rising to swipe lovingly at your cheek. You lick your lips, savouring the taste of him and nod — not quite sure where to go from there.
Your silence makes him question, and he eyes you. “Is there… anything in particular you want now?”
You think, blinking your doll-like eyelashes off into the distance before nodding once more— pushing off away from him and scurrying to the head of the bed where you lay yourself gently on the pillows.
“Hm?” He follows up in confusion, craning his neck round to watch you.
“Would… like a baby now, please.” You spread your legs a little, shy and bashful in your request like you wasn’t sure if you’d asked impolitely. His face falls as he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes, rubbing over his face with an exasperated chuckle, elbows on his knees.
As you stare at him with with an upset little pout, already ashamed by your forwardness. “Like husband and wife?” You try to justify and he sighs out his nose, turning his body fully to you.
“Oh sweet girl.” He tugs you gently lower toward him by your hips, rubbing his thumbs at your waist. “We just met.”
You launch into full fledged begging, whiny and high pitched with tears threatening to dive over their trough. “I’ll make you so happy John B, I’ll make all your problems go away and you won’t have to run anymore. Please?” You were deadset on this man giving you your dream life, and you’d officially pushed shame to the side in order to get this. His brow is permanently creased, staring with those big wide puppy dog eyes, continually stroking your skin in hopes to calm you.
“Are you… sure that’s what you want? You’re still young. So much time for all that.”
“Just want it now. I’d never be lonely again.” You sound defeated, staring down away from him now. He felt bad, he’d always hated disappointing people. Once upon a time he was a fixer, always running to his friends aid to make their problems go away. That urge never died, just burned low and quiet like an old candle flame. He wanted to make your problems go away too.
“Okay.” He presses his lips together. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.”
He watches your devastated expression lift into a radiant grin, and it was like watching the sun appear from behind a grey cloud after weeks of downcast weather. “Yeah?” You chirp toothily as he crawls over you, leaking tip grazing your tummy and then your folds as he buries his face into your neck.
“Uh-huh.”
When he pushes his tip inside, John B says a prayer for the first time in his life.
He’d never really followed any religion. His father had been the type to say it was all a bunch of ‘Mumbo jumbo’ and that he should believe in the human psyche instead, or something like that. But as your wet folds swallow him and you release that high pitched mewl at the inevitable stretch — he finds himself asking God — please, please don’t let me knock this young girl up.
There’s a warm blanket of chills that cover his spine as he slowly sheathes inside of you, feeling like he was pushing deeper and deeper into a black hole that would selfishly keep sucking him inside for the rest of his life. It felt too good, calming — like falling asleep. He was euphoric.
“So — so big inside me!” Your cry knocks him out of his thoughts and he kisses your shoulder before looking down to watch himself push in all the way to the hilt.
“Feel okay, gorgeous?”
You nod, a pained whine falling from you as you dig your nails into his skin, walls fluttering around him like they were constantly trying to accommodate for this thickness. “Fuck.” He groans, before sliding back a little and starting to thrust. Yeah, he wasn’t gonna last too long— he needed to get to work on you fast.
As he gently fucks into you, your plush tits recoil with the movement and he can’t close his mouth, sounds and sighs leaving him without permission. A hand slides between the two of you, the other pulling his shirt up to grip between his teeth— giving himself a better view of the way he strokes at your clit — your legs being spread exposing it, making it easier for him.
You clench, and shudder — that sweet face contorting with each time his tip ever so slightly grazes your cervix, careful not to bruise it. You really were beautiful, that type of homely beauty he’d thought of marrying in his lonely nights of travelling through desert and grass. The type of girl you work for, the type that deserves spoiling, princess treatment. The more he fucks, the more he’s convincing himself that impregnating you might not be the most awful thing after all. Why should he chase away security?
Your fingertips grace his chest, and he takes your hand — pinning it to the bed as your fingers intertwine, using the grip to aid his rolling thrusts— speeding up the pace and force now he knew you could take it like a champ. His mouth opens to speak, and his shirt drops out of it.
“Taking me real good baby. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” He coo’s and you can only nod, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes before rolling down to your temples. Poor thing, lost for words.
There’s a wet slapping sound with each thrust, your cunt equally gushing as it was thirsty — hungrily welcoming each inch of his, and even demanding more by locking your ankles around his lower back. Perhaps you did it for comfort, or perhaps because you suspected a hesitance, the threat of him pulling out last minute too much for your baby-crazed brain.
“Jesus. Sweet little puppy.” He breathes like it’s a revelation beneath your ear, the curly tuft of hair above his shaft tickling you as he continues to rub your clit.
“S’gonna happen again, John B. The big feeling.” You strain, eyes clamped shut and sniffling— too overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. He kisses each eye lid and watches you closely, experiencing you unfold once more.
“Thats my good girl. Let me have it, pup. Gimme a good one.”
You’re an explosion of whimpers and moans, thrashing under his firm grip once more— and he’s not sure when your orgasm ends, if it even ends at all— he doesn’t care, the release pushing him close to his own. He speeds up his pace, hand that was at your clit now wrapping around your lower back, forearm pushing your lower half up and against him, forcing you to just keep taking him.
He was like a beast from a fairytale book, fucking wildly into you with a primal determination that had you struggling to breathe. You’re crying now, full out crying because it’s just so much. There’s still one last thing you require, and only he can give you it.
“You wanna make me daddy, huh?” He demands, that gentleness in his voice gone. It’s nearly unrecognisable from him, and you preen beneath the rough touch.
“Mhm!”
“Words.” He barks. He didn’t mean to be mean, he just got a little bossy when he was close. You’d come to learn that.
“Please give me a baby. Please just — make you a daddy! Need it!” You’re squealing, voice shaking from the hard ‘plap plap plap’ of his balls slapping against you. You feel you might pass out if this goes on much longer.
He releases with a long groan, lips dropping to the centre of your chest and back arching upwards. You register his sounds before you feel it, hot slimy ropes of him— shooting up inside you, warming your walls. You moan too, because it feels so good to be full. It feels right, like this was what had been missing after all.
Everything is a blur for the next few minutes. It’s like you black out a little, because maybe you forgot to be breathing like you should have been. You briefly recall John B scooping you up and helping you through that, ignoring the gooey seed dripping from you to cradle you like a baby, humming a calm “Breathe, sweetheart. In and out. With me, c’mon.” Your gentle boy was back, and through your haze you smile.
Once you’re tucked at his side beneath a soft cotton blanket, his hand stroking over your head after cleaning you up, a whispered conversation ensues.
“Do you really like me John B? Like, you really think I’m beautiful?” You inquire, gazing up at him with stuck together black eyelashes. The question was so innocent, yet he could tell it was so meaningful.
His expression doesnt falter, a gentle smile sat comfortably on his lips as he continues to pet you. “Baby, I think you’re the ponds swan. Just… gotta get to know you a little better, okay? ‘Specially if I really did put a baby in you.” Only then his smile falters, brows knitting as the reality sets in. Oh Lord.
“Okay.” Your eyes flutter closed, happy to leave it at that, happy to fall asleep right by his side under his watchful eye. It was unnerving how safe a lonely girl could feel with a stranger.
“Okay. Good girl. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” He quietly reassures, watching you drift off. He’s not sure if he’s trying to dispel your fears, or his own.
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sprout-fics · 9 months
Note
EM I am begging u for more Omergaverse with all of the world's sprinkles and cherries on top
This has been a long time coming BUT since I've had several people ask I shall provide additional thoughts on the matter
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Poly Omegaverse TF141 Headcanons
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Two: The Pack)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, SoapGhost, PriceGaz, Heat/Rut cycles
Masterlist
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So lemme start by again reiterating that I am certain of these men's designations
Price is an alpha, always has been. He's a captain, he's a leader, he's extremely skilled by there's also a violence in him that grows dangerous when it threatens something he's sworn to protect. Very Alpha instincts
Simon is an alpha too, built like one to match. He's big, muscular, dark and stormy. He doesn't pay much attention to his designation, but Simon in a rut is a dangerous thing. He's a whiplash of emotion and need that turns to hunger
Soap, being an omega, hid his designation for many years of his service before joining the 141. He, like you as an omega, knows all too well the bias and prejudice against 'weak' omegas in the military. The fact that he's now TF141's resident demolitions expert is an immense sense of pride for him, defying all the things he's been told about how omegas cant achieve the things he has
Two alphas and an omega is a pretty potent mix, which is where Gaz comes in. He's the soothsayer, the diplomat, and though he's prone to being very tongue in cheek sometimes, he also provides a calm for the group that solidifies the bonds involved. He provides a softer edge to Price's sharp leadership that you and the others appreciate
Also, because I'm weak for poly141, I think there's additional nuances to their relationships as well
It's pretty clear early on that Soap and Ghost are a thing. Soap needles his alpha and Ghost is entirely too weak to his charms. Soap knows how to handle Ghost best when he's in a mood, rut or otherwise, enough so that Gaz has joked before about Soap being Ghost's 'handler'
(He only made the joke once because the look Ghost gave him was enough to make him lay ide awake with a knife under his pillow that night)
Price feels a certain amount of protection over Soap as well, partly due to loyalty and partly due to alpha instincts of protecting an omega on his team. Ghost allows it only because he deeply trusts Price, had seen him save the life of his mate more than once. As much as Price and Soap are involved, there's always a bit of an air that Soap was Ghost's first
Granted, Ghost is also fairly protective over Gaz as well. He sees Gaz as part of their pack, a needed component to the bonds they share. It takes a while, but Ghost becomes used to giving Gaz some needed physical touch, and doesn't complain when Soap invites Gaz into a cuddle puddle
Price treats Gaz as if he were his own, because he is. He didn't just take the sergeant under his wing, he took him into his heart too. Gaz's endearing loyalty is a hard thing to find, and Price knows the beta will follow him anywhere if he asked. So he treats him just as well, gives Gaz almost all the things the younger man hopes for in his mate
Gaz and Soap are a pair, and definitely get up to trouble if they are left by themselves. The nonsense is usually Soap's idea, but Gaz is an enabler no matter how much he tries to deny it. Price and Ghost have had to scruff their sergeants on more than one occasion like naughty pups
Between the four of them it's easy for them to divide up into pairs, but there's strong ties that connect them all in varying degrees of complexity, but also trust
Heats and ruts are an entirely different topic
It's made all the more complicated by the fact that the team all have irregular deployments. So ruts and heats aren't always synchronized. Stress is a major factor in altering cycles, and despite the time together, it's not often that they overlap
Soap is used to dealing with heats on his own prior to joining TF141, but has to be reminded by Gaz it isn't healthy long term to do so by himself. It becomes less of a problem once Ghost enters the picture (They literally have to be locked away on a far section of base when their cycles sync because good God)
Even so, Ghost often does alone missions, so there are times when he can't be of much help. He and Price have a long sit-down come to Jesus meeting with Soap where they agree Price will step in as needed. After the first few times the boundaries become a little looser as they get comfortable with each other
Likewise, Gaz acts as intermediary when Soap is unavailable. He's eager to please, but requires some gentler handling than Soap, who thrives off being tossed around in bed. Soap teaches some tips and tricks to gentling both alphas, but especially Simon
It's not uncommon outside of cycles for the boys to get fall into bed either
Gaz and Soap love having fun in bed when they can. Gaz loves getting Soap from his shit-eating, snarky grin into burying his face in the pillows, shaking and pleading, and likewise Soap enjoys treating Gaz as well as he deserves
Price and Ghost having sex is a fairly rare occurrence, and often a carefully constructed one due to their designations. Price recognizes Ghost needs some very specific attention in regards to being topped in bed, which he is more than happy to provide. I personally headcanon that Price doesn't enjoy being topped much, but will do it for Gaz to make him happy
Ghost and Gaz is an entirely different matter. Ghost recognizes Gaz is very different than Soap in bed, and requires different handling. Gaz recognizes that sex with Ghost is intense. A little overwhelming, but always leaves him very satisfied by the end
Price, on the other hand, and Soap? God help him
Soap is a brat, and he knows it. Ghost puts up with it to some degree, but Price has none of it. He knows how to treat Soap right, but he also knows how to make him behave. Simon joins on more than one occasion just to enjoy the sight of Soap realizing he can't pull the same tricks with Price that he can with Ghost
The entire pack is built on communication and trust, and though it takes time for them all to settle into it, the four are more than happy to be each other's mates.
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standfucker · 3 months
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Hello!! I've been thinking about an AFAB reader in the straw hat crew who dresses as a man. Short hair and masculine clothes that cover her up. She doesn't want people treating her differently or going easy on her in fights because of her gender hence her constant charade. Because of this the crew doesn't know that she is actually woman. I'd like to request drabbles of how Zoro, Sanji, And Luffy would react when finding out and where they would. Also, SFW please!
This was fun! ^^ Thanks for submitting a request! I tried to keep these a consistent length and failed. Each one ended up longer than the last... I'll have to keep trying harder to pace myself.
Discovering Your Secret - Monster Trio
CW: chest binding, canon-typical violence, injury (not described in detail), gun violence, battle trauma, nudity, awkwardness
Luffy
Group bathing was one bonding activity on the Sunny that you had to miss out on. Shyness wasn’t like you, but the guys chalked it up to a weird personality quirk and long since stopped questioning it. Some people liked their privacy, no big deal. Really, it was never a problem until Luffy barged into the bathroom one day while you were soaking, the door swinging open so hard it bounced back shut behind him.
You tried to shout that the bathroom was occupied, but it was drowned out by Luffy’s own yell of “GUM GUM CANNONBALL!” The next thing you knew, Luffy had somehow launched himself out of his clothes and into the tub, making a massive splash that took out half the water. It was only by sheer luck that he didn’t collide with you. 
Instantly you sank down low into the remaining water so only your head was above the surface. The clear water offered no protection, however, so you had to cover your chest and cross your legs. Embarrassment and panicky fear were rotten feelings to have when you had just gotten relaxed, and you found yourself getting angry on top of it all. This was such a stupid way to be found out, and it was only because your captain lacked any self-awareness.
Luffy came up with a laugh, then opened his eyes and blinked at you for a second. “Oh, hey!” he said, oblivious to your stress. “I didn’t know you were in here! Robin told me she just drew a bath, so I came in. Didn’t hear the rest of what she said–I guess she drew it for you! Shi shi shi.”
You stared at him, open-mouthed, too stunned to speak right away.
Luffy’s brows raised when you didn’t respond. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t like to bathe with others. Sorry!” “Luffy?” you tried, but he kept talking.
”Well, I’m here now, so we might as well share! We can wash each other’s backs.”
”Luffy.”
”What are you so shy for, anyway? You look fine to me.”
”Luffy!” you snapped.
”What?”
”Get out!”
”But I’m already wet!” he complained, and you mentally screamed at his stubbornness.
”Then I’ll get out! But you have to look away!” you barely managed to keep from yelling at him, trying not to lose your cool lest he get suspicious.
Luffy pursed his lips. “Fine, sheesh. I won’t look.”
He turned his head away. You hesitated, then quickly stood up and made to leave. You took one step onto the tub–and immediately slipped, thanks to the water Luffy splashed there a moment ago. A yelp left you as you fell fast.
”Y/N!” Right before you hit the tub, Luffy’s arms shot out and wrapped around you, pulling you safely back inside. “That was close!”
You froze in place, heart in your throat both from the fall and from your new position. Luffy’s arms were wrapped around your torso. He could clearly feel your chest against his rubbery arms. You gaped at him, wide-eyed in shock. Luffy smiled. Then he squeezed you again and frowned. Slowly, he looked down at your chest, then down even further.
”WHAT?!” Luffy yelled in shock, his eyes bugging out. “Y/N got attacked by Iva?! But when did you meet him?!”
You facepalmed hard.You’d heard about Ivankov through Luffy’s stories, so you had an idea of what he was talking about. But he missed the mark so hard it was astonishing.
Luffy quickly unwound his arms from around you and covered his face, stammering. “I’m sorry, Y/N! I had no idea!”  
Even though your own face was hot, you couldn’t help but start to laugh, though it was a bit nervous. As you carefully exited the tub, toweling off and pulling on a robe, you contemplated letting Luffy go on believing you were attacked by Iva. But then you would have to make up a story about meeting him, and lying to your bright-eyed captain seemed wrong. He meant well, after all.
Maybe this whole charade was unfair to him. Luffy couldn’t hold onto a secret to save his life anyway, so once he knew, the whole crew would know too. Still…though it would be a big change for you, it would be one less thing to worry about…
You draped your towel along the edge of the tub and perched on it, crossing your arms. “What did we learn about respecting people’s privacy?”
”I’m sorry,” Luffy said, peeking through his fingers before lowering his hands. “I didn’t know you had a reason…I won’t do it again! But when did you cross paths with Iva? During the two years I was away?”
”No, Luffy. I’ve never met Ivankov.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ve been a girl this whole time. I was just pretending to be male.”
”Whaaat!? Really?” Luffy’s eyes bugged out at you again. “But why?”
You did your best to explain your reasons. Luffy only seemed to grow more confused as you went on, crossing his arms and tilting his head.
”I don’t get it. Nami and Robin are strong,” he said.
“Never said they weren’t,” you replied patiently. “But Nami and Robin get underestimated constantly. Maybe they’re used to it, but I can’t stomach the idea. It’s insulting.”
“Hmm…” Luffy thought for a second. “Does this mean we can’t wrestle anymore?”
“Of course we can! The whole point is that I don’t want you to treat me differently!”
“Oh… Oh! I see!” Luffy said, his eyes lighting up with realization. “Okay then! I’ll whoop your butt like normal!”
A warm feeling filled your chest, and you smiled. Now he was catching on, and he didn’t seem to mind. The relief was almost dizzying.
You asked Luffy to try to keep it a secret for now.
He lasted about three weeks, until he asked you one day, point-blank in front of the others: “Hey, Y/N? Where do your boobs go when you get dressed?”
Zoro
“Behind you!”
Zoro’s shout made you whirl around, raising your weapon, but your opponent was already on the downswing. Their sword cut your chest open from clavicle to rib. Pain sizzled out from the gash, hot and burning, but in addition to that, you could feel that your binder was damaged, freeing your breasts. You grit your teeth through the pain and managed to strike your foe down. Then you hunched over yourself, arms crossed over your chest, quivering. The warm blood on your arms told you this one might be serious, but despite the wound, all that was on your mind was getting found out.
Zoro rushed to your side, mowing down foes as he went until he was there. “Did they get you? Let me see.” But you shook your head. “Let me see!” he insisted, an edge of panic to his voice as blood dripped onto the ground below you.
You looked up at him with visible fear, which he misunderstood. “You’re going to be okay, but you have got to let me see.”
Shaking, you lowered your arms, revealing your wound and your secret all at once.
Zoro’s eyes widened, momentarily speechless. Then he snapped out of it, hurriedly taking off his shirt and wrapping it around your torso. He picked you up, one arm supporting your bottom while the other tucked you against his chest to hide your front. You pressed your face into his shoulder, discomposed from the shock of the injury and from the sudden reveal.
What would he think of you now? All the times you arm wrestled, all the times you sparred, all the drinking contests and shared conversations and shared fights–would you never experience them again? You kept asking yourself those questions as Zoro took you out of the slowing battle.
Chopper was shocked, but promised to keep your secret. However, after he found out that you’d been binding your chest with bandages almost 24-7, he scolded you harshly, going on about how you could permanently damage your body.
At your request, Zoro’s the only one Chopper let visit you in the ship’s infirmary. For a while, Zoro didn’t say anything, just stared at your bandaged chest with an unreadable expression.
“I wanted you to respect me,” you said, breaking the silence. He didn’t respond. “I could never be your equal otherwise. Please understand.”
Zoro looked down at you and gave a heavy sigh, eyes distant for a moment. “...You remind me of someone I used to know.” He sat on the edge of your bed, some softness to his gaze now. “I get it. I get why you hid this. But you’re an idiot.”
”I know. I let myself get hurt.”
”No, dummy. Because you treated the crew like we wouldn’t understand. You didn’t trust us. It makes sense in the beginning, but after all these years?” He frowned at you, and you realize that deep down, he was hurt.
”I didn’t want anything to change between us.” You looked away, ashamed. “Between you and me.”
”It doesn’t have to.”
”You don’t like to fight women.”
Zoro grimaced at the accusation, knowing you’re right. The infirmary was quiet for a minute.
”I’m sorry,” Zoro finally said. “I’ll…I’ll do better. Nothing has to change.” He paused, and offered up a smirk. “After all, I go easy on you anyways.”
You feel yourself tear up at his acceptance, and grinned back at him. “Once I heal up, I’ll make you regret that.” You paused, face falling. “You won’t tell anyone, right? I don’t want Sanji to…you know.”
“Yeah.” Zoro made a face at the cook’s name. ”It’ll stay between the three of us,” he promised. “I still think you should tell them, but it’s not my secret to share.”
”Maybe in time. I’ll have to think about it,” you said, and he nodded.
Zoro held out his hand. You clasped it in a big swing, grimacing when it made your wound sting, and squeezed as tightly as you could.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Zoro said, squeezing back. “Okay? We’re still buds.”
”Okay.” Again, you felt the tears threatening to spill.
”But if you cry, I’ll make fun of you.”
”Shut up!”
Once Zoro realizes you were hindered by the binder for all of your matches against him, he got fired up. All the times he won, you had a handicap–it wasn’t a fair match, he decided. However, there wasn’t really a place on the ship where you could take it off in front of others, so he was forced to remain undecided on the topic of which one of you is stronger.
It wasn’t until you revealed your secret to the others that you and Zoro finally got to have a proper, no-holds-barred sparring session. True to his word, he didn’t hold back, too battle-hungry to care if he touched your chest when you wrestled or exchanged blows. (Sanji snarled in the background, but neither of you were paying him any attention.)
As it turned out, when you let your aching ribs heal and could breathe properly, you were far better than you were before. You ended up almost defeating the swordsman, and he was so proud of you that he threw an arm around your shoulders and noogied your head until you were certain he left track marks in your skull. “That’s my girl!”
Sanji
The impact of your sword against your opponent’s knocked the weapons out of the both of your hands. Undeterred, you dashed forward to take them on barehanded, confident in your unarmed strength. Right as you reached them, they drew a hidden flintlock from their back belt, and touched the muzzle to your forehead.
You froze. The battlefield seemed to fade away, nothing solid or corporeal except for the gun to your head. You couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in your ears, feel anything but the cold steel pressed to your skull. Everything rushed through your head in one synaptic burst, a thousand million thoughts of how soon, how final this was. All the years of adventure, ending here. One slip-up. You were going to die.
You couldn’t even feel regret. Just the sensation of your heart beating as if it was in every blood vessel. You didn’t hear the call of your name, nor the shouted “Diable Jambe!”
In the time it took for your opponent to squeeze his trigger finger, Sanji appeared seemingly out of nowhere and kicked the guy’s hand so hard you saw it break. The gun fired into the ground a few feet away from you, and with another burning kick, Sanji knocked him out.
You were in shock, standing there unharmed, but useless. Sanji took notice, calling for you again. When you didn’t respond, he rushed to you and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you hard. “Get it together! We still need you!”
Suddenly the sound, the sensation, everything came rushing back, hitting you all at once. You blinked, glanced at the surrounding battle, then at Sanji’s tense expression.
“Y/N!”
“I’m okay!” you said. “T-Thanks. I’m okay.” With that, you rushed for your fallen sword, ready to rejoin the battle.
It wasn’t your first brush with death, but this one rattled you worse than the others. After the battle you dwelled on it constantly, thinking back to that moment and breaking out into a cold sweat even though you’d just cleaned up. You couldn’t think about anything else, focus on anything going on around you. You skipped dinner, stomach too upset to eat, and were barely able to sleep despite your exhaustion from the day’s battle. You skipped breakfast the following day, and only around lunchtime did your mind seem to catch up to your body. You watched Luffy and the crew mess around, playing and laughing and arguing, and suddenly you realized that you almost lost this forever. Immediately, the urge to cry overtook you with tremendous force. You hurried through the ship’s interior, shoved yourself into a corner, and sobbed into your hands.
Dead. Oh god, you were almost dead. How was it that easy? All the strength you had worked so hard to build, meaningless. How could you have been so overconfident? How could you have let yourself lose so easily? Had Sanji not been there, you would have been gone. Gone.
The tears ran hot down your cheeks, and you bit your tongue to keep from being loud. It could have gone so much worse. Sanji was dependable, but tended to keep his eye on the girls during fights. He only saved you because you were close by. It was sheer luck that he saved you. Only luck.
“Y/N!”
Sanji’s call of your name made you go quiet. You resisted the urge to sniffle, even as your nose ran. If he found you…it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but you’d rather not be caught crying. You spent years building the image of the stoic, masculine fighter, and would prefer to keep up that appearance. Sanji called you again, closer this time, and you cleared your throat.
“Yeah?” you called out.
“Lunch is ready, so hurry on down,” he announced from the doorway, just out of your vision.
It took you a minute to gather yourself, but after washing your face and regulating your breathing, you were ready to rejoin the group once more.
In the weeks following, you dealt with your shock and processed it the best that you could. Eventually you started sleeping better again, your appetite returned, and life seemed to go on as normal…except for one thing: Sanji. He started acting strangely when he was nearby.
It started off small. He was far more pleasant around you than he normally was. Not that you and Sanji held animosity toward each other, but usually he treated you like another male: friendly enough if you weren’t Zoro, but not to this degree. He never really brightened up at the sight of you before. Nor did he ask for your opinion in his upcoming meal plan for the week. At first you chalked it up to him noticing your earlier distress somehow, but after you got better, he kept on acting saccharine.
One day, he brought you a drink. Not served you at the table with everyone else, but went out of his way to bring it to where you were sunbathing on the deck. You could only stare at him until he awkwardly left it by your side, stammered something about the heat, and then left.
Incidents like that kept happening, usually out of sight of the other crewmates, but not always. The others started picking up on it too. At one point, Sanji brought Robin, Nami, and Chopper slices of cake–and then brought you a plate as well. That time, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Sanji pretended like nothing was off.
When he chirped “Hi, Y/N-chan,” to you as he passed by you in the hall, you had enough. You grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, hard. He immediately knew he messed up, but despite your fingers fisted in his collar and your murderous expression, he only flushed red.
“What are you doing?” you hissed.
“I–I’m–” Sanji stammered. Blood started to run from one of his nostrils.
“Why are you acting like this?” you demanded. “Being all sappy and disgusting to me. Who do you think I am?”
“I–I’m sorry,” Sanji tried. You grit your teeth, beginning to fear the worst.
“Did you lose all respect for me when you saved my life?” you asked bluntly.
“Of course not! I think highly of you.”
“Too much so, don’t you think?” you had to struggle not to shout. “Is this because you heard me crying last month?”
Sanji shut his mouth, glancing aside and giving away the answer. He nodded.
“Am I weak to you or something?”
“No, that’s not it–” he tried, but you pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back into it.
“I don’t understand! You’re too soft with me. Why are you treating me so nicely?”
“Because you’re a woman, and women deserve the best.” He said it unflinchingly and with conviction, looking right back into your eyes.
The answer was obvious, but a part of you still hoped it was something else, hoped that because he didn’t go overboard with his affections that he didn’t know. Your grip on his collar weakened and gave away along with your hopes, hands hanging limply at your sides.
“When did you find out?” you asked quietly. “Or should I say, how?”
“I saw you crying.” Sanji pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his nose.
“So?”
“You may look and act like a man…but a woman’s tears leave no room for doubts.”
You stared at him in disbelief. Unfair. That’s what this was. Just unfair. Because after all those years living as a male, you got found out because of Sanji’s freakish sixth sense for women. Your sigh was heavy, and you had to rest your head in your hand for a moment.
“Okay, well, we need to set some things straight. You can’t keep slipping up around me, or the others will find out. They already suspect something’s up.”
“I'm trying!” Sanji retorted. “I knew you were hiding it for some reason, so I tried to keep myself in check! Do you know how hard it’s been?”
“How hard it’s been?” You wanted to punch him. “You have no idea what I go through every day just to keep up appearances! Just to earn the regard I deserve! Why couldn't you respect me as a man?”
“I don't respect men.”
“Ugh!” You punched the wall by his head instead. Sanji didn’t flinch. “You have to take me seriously.”
“I am!”
“We can’t keep going like this.” You bit your lip in frustration, trying to think of a solution. Maybe you could use his weird complex around women to your advantage, if he would just stop giving it away. “Okay, listen. Sanji. If you really want to do me a favor, the best thing you can do is help me keep my secret. That means whenever you have the urge to treat me like a girl, you nip it in the bud. Can you do that?”
“I…I’ll try.” Sanji went to take your hand, but you yanked it away.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You can’t be so familiar.”
“I’m sorry. It’s hard! I–I want to treat you right. I want to be close to you.”
“I want to be close to you to,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “But I. I’d… I’d rather hold onto my secret.”
He looked hurt, which sent a cold pang of guilt into your stomach. Reaching out, you patted his shoulder. “I’m depending on you, do you understand?”
Sanji took in your expression–serious, worried, uncertain–and nodded. The hand that reached for yours instead went over his heart. “I promise,” he said, “I will do everything I can to help keep your secret.”
The talk with Sanji helped massively, fixing his odd behavior around you for the most part. There was one thing he couldn’t give up, and that was giving you a nickname. He called you something in French–“mon petit chou,” he would say–but as it was foreign, you figured it was safe to use around the crew, and let it slide.
It was only a few months later that you learned Robin was fluent in French.
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cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months
Note
gonna keep the shy reader hcs party going and kindly request how arthur, john, and charles (and any other characters you might have added) would tease her once they’ve been together for a little while. who likes flustering her the most and who would get away with it the longest before she realizes he’s doing it on purpose 👀 as for the smutty part, what’s their favorite ways to rile her up before taking pity and giving her what she wants (i imagine some would be nicer than others lol)
Shy!Reader HC Ft. Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Charles Smith (Smut)
Y'all love your shy reader hcs
Warnings: smut
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Arthur Morgan
I feel like Arthur wouldn't be too big of a tease but when he is, they're very non consequential things
You fell off your horse? You were hunting together and missed the shot by a lot? You hurt yourself trying to do something daring on a job? He'd be like omg come over here lemme fix it for you baby
His goal is never to make you feel less than or somehow incompetent with his teasing
But oh you got syrup all over your face and hands? You buttoned your shirt incorrectly? You snort when you laugh? He's gonna keep going until you're blushing and giggling at him to stop
Even if there's nothing wrong with your outfit he'll go over to you and find SOMETHING to fix
Will spend an unnecessary amount of time fixing your collar or scarf
It'd probably be pretty easy to tell what he's trying to do, not very slick
Would compliment you to try and make you blush but he just ends up making himself blush
If you're insecure over something he'll make sure to compliment that aspect of you over and over again
Flirts with the idea of marriage and kids one day and that'll have you SWOONING
Sometimes he'll rub your belly when you talk about it and it'll make you CRUMBLE
NSFW
Oh he's gonna be such a big tease, and he'll do it perfectly
Does it in a way that can be passed off as accidentally and goes unnoticed by anyone else but you
Rubs his crotch on you while making his way past behind you
Subtly brushes your thigh or ass with his hand
Kisses up your neck until you're all hot and bothered and pulls away before saying he's gotta do something
If y'all are sitting around a table in a group setting he'll have you on his lap so you can feel him harden. Keeps playing poker like nothing
If you're sitting next to him he'll place his hand on your inner thigh but never moving it close enough to where you want it
His favorite way to rile you up is to touch you all over during make outs then never going past that
Takes pity on you when he sees you get genuinely frustrated, thinks it's hilarious though
Charles Smith
He's so subtle with it that you wouldn't even catch it until a few seconds later
You gotta think about it before you truly get it
You could complain about how hot it is and he'll recommend you take off your clothes
Oh you say your backs hurting? Charles recommended course of action is visiting him at his tent tonight so he can fix it wink wink
You'll actually show up and he'll actually be surprised you haven't gotten it yet
Will give you a massage nonetheless
Would take you a while to pick up on it and that's the beauty of it to Charles
Would do things without the intention of making you blush but if he notices something does he'll keep at it
You like it when he plays with your hair? Then he'll braid it and put flowers in it and rave about how beautiful it is
Hands you flowers and tells you it reminded him of you
Makes you little trinkets and objects and says the most flowery things about how he tried to make it a fraction of how beautiful you are
NSFW
Like his aforementioned forms of teasing, he'll do just that
In fact, in times where you do catch on, he'll pretend like he never meant it that way and you're the one who's trying to get something going
Will give you THAT LOOK when you're together in public and you BOTH know you won't be able to do anything for hours
During make outs he'll rub your inner thighs or ass or sides but never touching you where you need it.
His hands are very light, his touches never heavy handed
He'd give in real easy to you. Just pout or give him puppy eyes and he'll give in
Even being bold enough to tell him what you want will have him in a trance
He's a giver so he can never deny you for too long for his own satisfaction
John Marston
Oh my God his teasing definitely goes too far
I don't mean that in a cute way I mean he probably ends up hurting your feelings because he does not know when to stop
Sucks at flirting
Your shy nature just makes it more awkward
But once you get used to his failed attempts at being coquettish you'll be able to recognize when he's trying to flirt
Is probably super obvious when he's trying and when he's successful he'll actually make you blush
His successful attempts are probably unintentional. Says something he won't think will land but is surprised when it works
Excuses himself for a moment and celebrates a few feet away before turning like normal
He has like a time to cool down on successful flirting. Only successful once every three days or something like that
Tries to compliment you but it comes out awkwardly and stiff
If you say something back slightly flirty he's gonna blank and not know how to continue from there
As soon as he approaches you and says "uhh.. hey" you already know what he's trying to do
Opposite of Arthur so he WILL tease you for falling off your horse
Awkwardly hugs you and pats your shoulder if you cry while apologizing profusely
NSFW
Can't rile you up for too long without exciting himself
Keeps his arm on your lower back and dips his fingers inside your waist band
Type to pull on your overalls (if you wear em) and lets them snap back into you
Will come up behind you and rub his stubble into your neck before whispering filthy things into your ear
Likes it when you put up a little playful resistence
If y'all are sitting down somewhere together he'll put his hand on your ankle before running it up under your skirt
Ends up giving in mostly because HE can't take it anymore and is too excited
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general-fanfiction · 1 year
Text
Hopes And Fears. (Wally Clark x Reader)
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Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.
Word Count: 3,073
Gif Not Mine. Requests are open!
Warnings: Violence, Swear Words, Hints Of Rape?
I’m not too sure how I feel about this to be honest but it’s my first fic since coming back and I would love to write for Wally more so please send requests! I might continue with this if people like it, I’m not sure yet though.
“Homecoming game tonight. Are you nervous?”
Closing my locker, I look to my left to see Abby, my best friend since elementary school. We’re inseparable. People find it odd that we look like we are complete opposites and yet we are the platonic loves of each other's lives. She’s a very loud and extroverted theater kid, I’m quiet, shy and introverted. Though in a weird turn of events, I became head cheerleader. Kind of ironic right?
“I’m not too worried. We’ve been rehearsing everyday, sometimes twice a day. I think we might actually have our best routine yet, I just hope we can pull it off.”
“You’ll be great, you always are. Besides I heard Spencer is going to ask you to be his date for homecoming.”
Abby’s words catch me off guard. Spencer is the Split River High quarterback. While typically the head cheerleader and quarterback are perfect for each other, I’m way below his level that the thought of us being together is ridiculous. I couldn’t even imagine it, that’s how ludicrous the idea of us is. Not that I would complain, Spencer is model level attractive, an academic genius and of course, insanely popular. Any girl would die to be his homecoming date. Me included.
“Don’t be stupid.” The blush on my cheeks is a vibrant red as I speak, leaning against my locker with my books clenched against my chest.
“I’m being serious. Some of the other football guys were talking about it in study hall. Apparently he’s got some sort of big surprise planned.”
Her grin is wide, clearly happy for me, though I can’t match it. I still don’t believe it, that sort of thing does not happen to girls like me. Guys aren’t interested in girls like me. That’s just the way high school works, maybe I’ll blossom when I head off to college at the end of this year but for now, guys keep their distance. My mom always told me that high school guys like girls that are easy and that because I know my worth, guys don’t even attempt it. I’ve always hated that idea though. If nothing else but for the slightly sexist and anti-feminist ideals that it pushes.
“Not to alarm you Y/N but he’s walking down the hallway.” Abby tells me, grabbing my forearm tightly, obviously excited. “I think he’s headed this way so that’s my cue. Have fun, text me all the details!”
With that she scurries away, flashing me a cheesy smile over her shoulder as she speeds down the hallway. Almost bumping into several other students as she does so. I laugh slightly, always entertained by her antics before hearing the metal of the locker next to me clang at the sound of somebody leaning against it.
“Mind if I steal you for a second Y/N?”
Spencer’s voice is charming and smooth, a relaxed smirk on his face as he stares down at me. His eyes are intoxicating and I feel as though I’m drowning in them. There’s no way Abby could be right. God, if she is I’ll never hear the end of it. Maybe I could live with that though, especially if it does result in Spencer potentially being my boyfriend.
“Sure, yeah, okay.”
Spencer’s smirk grows wider, and as he leans in to take my hand in his, I catch a whiff of his cologne. A dark musk that matches the darkness of his eyes and hair perfectly, it takes everything in me not to collapse right then and there. My senses are completely heightened and I can feel the roughness of his hand against my palm. The butterflies in my stomach make me feel as though I’m about to explode from my nerves and before I know it we’ve made our way to the old block of showers that were closed in 2004, following an incident involving an inappropriate relationship between a student and gym coach. New showers were remodeled and these were left to decay.
Spencer takes my books out of my hands, placing them on the bench that sits in the center of the room before turning to face me. His hand gently cups my cheek and although his smile is soft and loving. His eyes hold a mischievous glint. Without saying anything he leans down to kiss me, unprepared and a little shocked I step backwards.
“I didn’t know you wanted to kiss me. I didn’t even know you liked me.” I tell him, shuffling backwards again as he continues to approach me.
“Everybody likes you. I’ve just been wanting to save this for a special occasion, and what better time than homecoming?”
With my back pressed against the wall, a soft smile forms on my face as he cages me in. Though it doesn’t feel threatening, it feels new and exciting and my insides are on fire waiting to see what happens. I feel as though I finally understand what the cringey teen movies are talking about when they discuss sex and love and passion.
“I really like you Spencer.” I whisper, voice barely audible, gazing up at him through my lashes.
He laughs, pushing his hair out of his face before leaning down once again. This time his lips do touch mine and it’s nothing like I imagined. He’s rough, hands moving down to grab my breasts , almost painfully. The softness from before clearly disappeared. As much as it is a dream come true to be making out with the guy of my dreams, I’m still disappointed that this is how my first kiss turned out. His tongue forces its way into my mouth and its uncomfortable, I know this isn’t how it is supposed to go. As I try to pull away, to allow myself some air, his hand grips my throat, holding me in place. Continuing his almost aggressive movements.
“Yo Spence, did you get the bitch?”
Finally, he pulls away. I manage to take in some air despite his hand still wrapped around my neck. He’s looking over his shoulder, nodding his head. The rest of the football team stands in the doorway, menacing looks on their faces as they see me in such a vulnerable position. I hear the click of the door lock, and the butterflies in my stomach don’t feel so good anymore. The energy in the room shifts to one of darkness and evil, no trace of kindness and love.
Spencer looks at me, and for the first time in my life, I fear for my safety. This is not the same guy that I was obsessed with. There is no sign of human emotion on his face, no sympathy or pity. Gripping his hand to try and pry it away from my throat, I feel the tears begin to prick in the corners of my eyes and upon seeing my reaction, he smiles. My pain is his pleasure. Despite my attempts at removing his hand, his grip only gets tighter and I’m pushed further against the wall.
“Let’s have some fun boys.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A dull ache radiates through my body, pushing through the pain, I force myself to stand up. Staring at the room around me, I wonder if I was dreaming. However, with no sign of my books on the bench, I take that as confirmation that what I experienced did truly happen. Blood splatters the walls and floor but with no sign of injury on my body, I refuse to believe it’s mine. Sure, what happened was bad, but not that bad.
Not wanting to stay in this room any longer, I quickly make my way to the exit, pushing open the door with more force than necessary causing it to slam against the outside wall. Making the shy looking boy who happens to be standing outside jump. I smile apologetically, about to make my way past him when I notice what he’s wearing. Clad in double denim with round glasses, he looks straight out of Friends.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come in because I thought you might feel kind of exposed but I wanted to introduce myself.” He says quietly, holding out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Charlie.”
Shifting my gaze between his hand and his face, my mind can’t really comprehend what is happening. Why am I suddenly meeting someone new? By the old shower block of all places, especially after what has just happened to me. The confusion on my face must be obvious as he smiles before revoking his hand.
“You haven’t worked it out yet have you?” He asks, almost as though he doesn’t want to push me.
“You’re dead, cherry pop.”
Looking to my right, I spot a girl sat against the wall, blue lollipop between her lips that has stained them ever so slightly. Wearing a black turtleneck with a matching cap and pinstripe pants, she’s the kind of girl that would intimidate me had I seen her walking down the street. Who am I kidding? She still intimidates me.
“Rhonda, Mr Martin told us to be gentle with her!”
“I’m sorry, I actually have somewhere to be but you two look great.” I tell them, beginning to walk away and head towards the main school building.
“Did you not hear me? You’re dead, you don’t have anywhere to be.” The girl, I’m assuming Rhonda, shouts after me, causing me to stop in my tracks.
“Look I don’t know what sort of joke this is, but it’s not funny. Seriously, go find some other kid to pick on.”
As I walk into the school building, I begin my mission of searching for Abby, hoping I can find her in the auditorium or even the costume department. My search doesn’t take too long, as my assumptions proved correct. She is sitting on the stage, the theater club’s newest script in one hand and her phone in the other. Our text thread open on her screen, as I sit myself beside her, she doesn’t even acknowledge me, eyes flicking between her phone and the script.
“Abby, I need to tell you something but you have to swear you will not tell anyone.”
She completely ignores me, flipping the page of her script. Its as if I’m invisible to her, a joke that isn’t funny. Waving my hand in front of her face in an attempt to get her attention also proves futile as she doesn’t even look up. Glancing at her phone I notice she’s messaged me multiple times asking me of my whereabouts, telling me she’s seen Spencer but she didn’t see me with him, asking me if I am his homecoming date.
“Abby, seriously? This is important, your show can wait.”
“She can’t hear you.” Charlie says, him and Rhonda standing in front of me, arms resting on the edge of the stage. “Or see you, we’re invisible to them. Nothing you do is going to change that.”
“I don’t get it, why isn’t she answering me?” I ask, panic starting to set it as I grow more and more confused at my situation.
“Oh my god, do I really have to tell you again? Are you that fucking stupid? You’re dead. D-E-A-D. Deceased. Not living.” Rhonda speaks slowly, using a voice you would use for a child.
“I can’t be dead. There’s no way, it’s just not possible.”
“Yeah it takes some getting used to, but we’re all friends and you’ll come to terms with it soon enough. Mr Martin’s support group helps too.” Charlie tells me, smiling encouragingly as I watch Abby walk away with some of the other theater kids.
“Support group?” I ask, hopping off the stage to stand with the only two people that can see me.
“Come on, we’ll take you.” Rhonda states, almost as if it's more of a chore and not like she offered to take me.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sitting in a circle with the rest of the group, I can’t help my heart racing as I spot the football player sitting amongst everyone. He reminds me of Spencer and that’s what makes me nervous, or maybe it’s just the fact that he plays football. Either way I can’t help but feel on edge, hence why I placed myself in the furthest seat from him.
As I take in the rest of the room, I notice the basketball team playing further down the court. Not aware of the existence of the group of ghosts sat in a circle like they’re in an AA meeting. It feels so surreal, almost like an intricate nightmare that I will wake up from at any moment. Yet everything I’ve seen so far has been pretty real.
“We have a new student, would you like to introduce yourself?” The only teacher, who I am guessing is Mr Martin asks, as I feel all eyes divert their attention towards me.
The football player has a gentle aura around him, smiling at me as he waits for an answer to Mr Martin’s question. I look away quickly, unable to face the feelings of sickness in my stomach that I get when I look at him.
“I’m Y/N.”
The group mumbles a chorus of welcomes as I stare at the floor, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that I am actually dead.
“It’s hard at first, but I’m grateful that you decided to give the group a shot. It helps us all to move forward instead of focusing on our deaths and the past.” Mr Martin tells me, offering a look of sympathy. “Charlie, Rhonda, thank you for being Y/N’s guide, I’m sure it was very helpful.”
“So how did you die? In the old showers clearly, but that’s gotta be an interesting story right?” Rhonda asks, her eyes piercing into me as she places the lollipop back between her lips.
“Rhonda, you can’t just ask people that. Let her get used to us at least.”
His voice startles me, it’s as gentle as his aura. Soft and ever so charming. The protection in his tone is obvious as though he doesn’t wanna frighten me away and I glance at him for a moment. His football shirt sits perfectly against his toned chest and a gold chain hangs delicately from his neck. He’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.
“I’m Wally by the way, Wally Clark.” His voice is directed at me, staring at me intently.
At that moment, I can’t help but be transported back to before. Remembering my screams and pleads for them to stop. Praying someone would hear me and come to my rescue. They never did. They never stopped.
Jumping up from my chair, I feel myself getting worked up as I sprint out of the room. Terrified of reliving the past. Finding myself in an abandoned hallway, I slide against the wall until I’m sitting on the cold linoleum floor. Staring at the lockers as I try to calm my breathing.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Charlie asks, crouching in front of me with a concerned expression on his face. “Wally’s shitting himself thinking he did something wrong. I told him to hang back while I spoke to you.”
I let the tears fall down my face as I stare up at Charlie, feeling guilty that I’ve potentially upset an innocent boy because of my own trauma. I can’t go back to the group, I know I can’t. It would be in the best interests of every other ghost if I do my best to simply avoid Wally. That way nobody gets hurt.
“I’m sorry Charlie. I can’t do it, I can’t go back to the group. I can’t see him in that fucking uniform. I just can’t, I’m sorry.” My sobs are uncontrollable and I feel bad even just for putting Charlie through this when he’s known me for all of two hours.
“It’s okay, you’re okay. Is it the uniform, we can get him to change I’m sure, I know it’s not the best look but it is all he had since he died in his shoulder pads and all.”
I can’t help but let out a small laugh, wiping the tears from my face with the sleeves of my jumper. Charlie offers me his hand to help me stand up which I take graciously. He places a hand on my shoulder as a sign of encouragement, along with a gentle smile.
“I mean it Charlie. I can’t go back to the group. I don’t want to relive the memories.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“She’s adamant she’s not coming back.” Charlie tells the group, all of them awaiting the answers he has for them as to why the new girl ran away. “I don’t think it’s anything personal Wally but she said she can’t see you in that uniform and I think she may have had something happen regarding the football players. I don't wanna speculate though.”
“So, what? Her footballer boyfriend cheated on her and now she can’t look at poor, innocent Wally because it reminds her of him?” Rhonda asks, unimpressed by the lack of answers Charlie has.
“No, I think it’s something more than that. Something deeper. I’m sure she’ll tell us when she’s ready but for now, I would stop wearing the uniform Wally.”
The footballer didn’t need to be told twice, he instantly pulls the shirt over his head leaving him in only a tight, white tank top. Charlie smiles in appreciation, while Rhonda scoffs slightly upon seeing his muscular arms.
“Okay, so I’ve ditched the uniform, should I apologize or what?” Wally asks, looking at the group to gauge their reactions.
“Maybe now isn’t a good time Wally.” Mr Martin states, trying to think rationally. “I’d give it a day or so.”
“Or maybe just leave her alone for a while. Let her come out of her shell a bit first.” Charlie interjects.
“Yeah, let's not hurt cherry pop’s feelings.” Rhonda replies sarcastically, staring directly at Charlie.
As the rest of the group session continues, Wally stays silent, playing with the football uniform in his hands as he attempts to figure out different ways to apologize. To help her feel more at home in her new life, and potentially help her overcome the trauma of her death. Despite not managing to come up with a good idea, he does decide one thing. He will do whatever it takes to make her feel safe and become her friend.
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theloveinc · 10 months
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any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟
whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3
(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)
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Miguel O'Hara
- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.
It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!
...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.
- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.
Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.
- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.
No. No sir.
(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)
- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).
Hobie Brown
- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭
You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.
- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.
Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."
HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????
(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)
- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:
"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.
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