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#like that’s. what the whole of chapter 8 was about.
eddies-house · 3 days
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Smoke Signals
Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas
W/C: 7.5K
Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader
Have yourself a merry little Christmas…
(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers
Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀
A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭
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Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.  
A senseless daydream.  
It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it.  Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape.  This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place.  It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.  
So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt.  Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life.  And last week he was suddenly dead.  It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie.  All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor.  Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.  
He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s.  Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste.  Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.  
Whatever you wanted. 
He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke.  His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you.  He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him.  He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place.  Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick.  He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.
Now just standing up seemed impossible.  Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible.  And for what?  For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions.  Pathetic, he knew.  But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.
This was it.  
This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man.  Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything.  He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come.  A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind.  And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver.  The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him.  He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.
Eddie told you he was feeling better.  It was a lie.  He never had the flu.  He didn’t feel better.  He wanted to die.  And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive.  Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.
And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon.  His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.
He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones.  There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did.  A flaw in the system.  And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?  
Several.
He thought to himself.  
You could have gone to school, shown up.  
Could have stayed out of detention.
Gotten arrested less.
Not get arrested at all.
Could have said no.  So.  Many.  Times.
In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death.  He couldn’t stop making excuses.  Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse.  For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together.  Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had.  It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.
Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision.  He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid.  Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.
What’s the matter darlin’?
And he just sobbed.  And remembered.
Morning pancakes and the blues.  Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies.  Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum.  Dancing in the living room.  Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees.  Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin.  Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.
Then he remembered.
Him.
Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense.  Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer.  That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised.  Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights.  Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in.  Disappearing for days.
Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home.  Only he rarely did.  Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time.  Years and years of push back.  A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.  
“My dad has a ton of jobs.”  He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.  
The kids would snicker.  Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness.  And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day.  Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them.  Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.
So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature.  At least that’s how dad described it.  It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse.  They called his dad a drunk.  They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged.  “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie.  Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time.  Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.
Freak.
Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt.  And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up.  Closure in some kind of fucked up way.  Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.
Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with.  Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.
All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes.  Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability.  No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door.  He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it.  This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions.  He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world.  They shouldn’t have to worry about me.  With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.
The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana.  A life he’d always longed for anyway.  
Be careful what you wish for.  
That goddamn voice taunts him.
The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away.  “One slip up…”  They had said.  It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him.  Literally anyone.  As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.  
Cause he was nothing if not a problem.  First and foremost.
Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–
“Eddie?”
It all stopped.  
“Eddie?!”  
There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry.  The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.
Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–
“Please don’t make me go back!”
You couldn’t form words.
“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.”  His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime.  “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear.  Please d-don’t let them take me.”
Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen.  With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made.  You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.  
“I’m sorry.” 
“Shh.”  You soothe. 
Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose.  A wordless commitment.  Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere.  You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure.  Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had.  Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at.  He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.  
The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house.  Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred.  If either spoke it would make it real.  Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.
He said it was an accident, and you believed him.  There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind.  Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip.  It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.  
He felt on a deeper level than most.
At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him.  In the standard of fight or flight, he froze.  Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.
“Bambi–”
“You don’t need to say anything.”
You were trying to keep it together.  His croaking voice made that hard.  But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability.  And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime.  Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him.  Maybe that was dare you even think it, love.  But that’s a crisis for another time.
“Dad died.”
Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions.  Conclusions you backtracked on immediately.  It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.      
“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–”  A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.
“It’s fucked.”  His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior.  “I shouldn’t–”  There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath.  “I shouldn’t feel bad.”
“You’re allowed to.”
“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”
“And you’re still allowed to mourn.  Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”
You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet.  Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.  
“How’d you know?”  He finally asked, timid.
“Hm?”
“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”
“Needed someone?”
Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.  
“Wayne called me.”  You sigh.  “Said he got my number from Steve.  Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?”  At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it.  “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in.  Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”
“So you knew?”
“No.”  You assure, taking care to relax your features.  “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out.  He wanted me to check in.  I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.”  You chuckle.
Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again.  You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick.  The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor.  There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better.  You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again.  It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.
“I’ll be fine.”
Famous last words.  When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.
“But right now you’re not.”
Sabotage.  In his eyes.
“But I will be.  Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”
Excuses.  Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble.  A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.
“Stop it.”  You demand.
“No, Bambi.  Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”
“Stop.”
Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key.  Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself.  And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses.  His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.
Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness.  Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in.  He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.
“Would you listen to me?!”  Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow.  “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down.  I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it.  My shit is my shit.”
You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.
“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.”  Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze.  A plea.  “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in.  I don’t care what holiday it is.”
“Go.”
You try not to take it personal.  It’s not personal.
“Fine.”
The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him.  The room turned colder, more vacant.  Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart?  His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.
Do not resuscitate.
As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall.  The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.  
It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended.  Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness.  Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what?  Stormed off?  Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat.  He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—
In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other.  And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness.  The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.
Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut.  An uphill battle.
“Bambi, what did I tell you–”
“You told me to go.”  You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth.   “And I did.  You didn’t say how long or—or where to go.  But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake.  Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“
Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.  
There he is.
Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips.  Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you.  Your boy.  
Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense.  Bambi and Eddie.  There is not one without the other, not anymore.  Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—
“I love you.”  
It just fell from his tongue.  A promise.
“I-are—are you s—“
“Am I serious?  Is that what you’re gonna ask?”  He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.
You nod, gulping.  Not because you’re afraid, no, never.  You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.
“Bambi…” He tuts.  “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”
All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.  
“Bad.”  He reiterates.  “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“
“I don’t—“
“I’m not finished.”  Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip.  “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it.  And I’ll run with it.  Far.  Because I’m pathetic—“
“You are not.” 
“I’m a pathetic man.  Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”  
“Stop saying you’re pathetic.”  You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.
“Oh, but I am.”  He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.  
Did he believe it was his last chance?
And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.
A pathetic whine dare you say.
“Sorry, sorry.”  You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.
“Don’t—ow!  Jesus fuck.”  Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek.  “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”
You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of.  Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.  
“Can you…can you do that again?”  He whispers.  Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.
Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck.  His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest  wet dreams.  
Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail.  And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.
 He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.  
“Like that, baby?”  You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.
“Please.”  A whisper that tells you everything.  “I-I never—no one’s ever—“  He tries to warn you.
“What?”  You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe.  “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”  
“Just my hand.”  Eddie jokes, voice strained.
Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap.  Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his.  Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.  
“We can stop.”  You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.
“No, no.”  His voice shakes, chest heaving.  “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”  
There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him.  But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable.  Feel sexy and wanted.
“Let me do the work.”  You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him.  “Let me take care of you.”  
He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles.  You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.
“I said, let me take care of you.”
Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you.  His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.  
Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far.  His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.
“Eddie.”  You whimper.
“M’ gonna cum.”  He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria.  “Wanna be inside of you.”
You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.  
“Please, baby.  Please, I’ve got condoms—“
You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.  
“You bought condoms?  Boy, are you prepared—“
A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.  
“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”
“Shhh, okay, okay!!”  You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back.  You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.
“You wanna go to the bedroom?”  You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.  
Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care.  Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed.  You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you.  Purely Eddie.  Woodsy and minty.  A tad smoky.  And some hints of apple.
Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room.  And then it plays.  A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love.  A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.  
“Well alright, cowboy.”  You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.  
“Shut up.”  He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.  
“C’mere.”  You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you.  “Wanna see you.” 
“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”
Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach.  Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago.  The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined.  While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side.  Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.
As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him.  Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants.  Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.  
“F-feel what you do to me?”
It aches.
His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet.  But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.  
You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side.  His eyes grow, lips parted in awe.  And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.  
You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control.  And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.  
Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval.  That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.
His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it.  Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red.  Painfully aroused.
He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.
“B-baby, please.”  While grinding into nothing, poor boy.  “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”
He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands.  You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.
Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth.  Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps.  Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair. 
He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot.  Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned.  Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone.  The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom.  The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.  
Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm.  Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.  
Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting.  The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.
 Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds.  Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what.  Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime.  Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.
Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm.  His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted.  You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark.  All of him.
His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you.  He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.  
Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless.  Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit.  Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”.  That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?
Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close.  Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.  
The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart.  Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.  
It could help though.  And that’s all that mattered.  If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing.  If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.  
While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree.  Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar.  Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works.  Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.  
You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did.  Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste.  Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.  
You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes.  While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.
Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet.  Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity.  Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips.  A dream.
“Merry Christmas to you too.”  You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.  
Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth.  It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.  
“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?”  He laughs, voice husky with sleep.  
“No but I can do you one better—“
“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“
“Next to the table.”  
Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created.  Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow.  He felt like an asshole.
“I—no I can’t—“
“Open it.”  
Eddie just stared. 
“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!”  You smile, approaching behind him.
Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you.  When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.  
“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse.  I just didn’t.  I’m sorry.”  His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.
As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck.  And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.
“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you.  I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“
“I love you.”  You interrupt.
Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table.  Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you.  Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute.  He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing. 
“You’re not just saying that—“
“I.  Love.  You.”  You enunciate each word with a peck.  “Point blank.  No exceptions.  You’re stuck with me old man.”
“Old man?  We’re like the same age—“
You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records.  A huge stack of them.  All genres.  Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal.  It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling.  That much you could gather.
“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”
“Don’t like them?”  You scoff.  “I love them.”
You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school.  You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach.  He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.  
And he was blushing. 
“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me.  I picked some out that I knew you’d like.  Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”
“Oh, we are listening to them.  Right after you open your gift.”
More blushing.
Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him.  Like Pandora’s box or something.  Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper.  A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold.  His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper.  It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head.  Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture.  At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said. 
“No fucking way.”  He smiles, half laughs.  Then repeats himself.  Over and over.
“Do you like it?”
Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around.  Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.  
“I love it, I love you.”
Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table.  The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other.  Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between.  His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.
He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three.  Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled.  Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.
Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere.  You miss it.  But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything.  Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi.  Makes small talk with mom and grandma.  Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day.  No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her.  He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.
Lastly you call up the gang.  Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual.  Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background.  Something about a broken sled.  Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.
“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either.  This would all make so much more sense then.”
There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on.  Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default.  She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially.  Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house.  Beautiful in the summertime.  Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.
Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays.  One of the records he’d gifted you.
~end~
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lovelyiida · 1 day
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KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER • A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!
❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo came to the realization that he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!
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implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content
❥: CHAPTERS
❥ MASTERLIST
❥ JOIN TAG LIST!
WORDS: 4.3K
PS: Please let me know if you have filled out the tag form since the last update so I can keep up to date!!
CHAPTER 8: VULNERABILITY
PHASE 2: CONSOLE
“Beady-eyed, dog-mannered, dimwad!”
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Headline, headline, headline!
PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT EXPLODES IN ANGER DURING INTERVIEW
[unreleased footage from Pop! Magazine spreads like wildfire!]
Over 3 million views, and 10 thousand shares.
Since the dawn of the moon, you have been repeatedly refreshing the page. Each and every comment was scanned with frantic-fast movements. Relishing in this whole interview fiasco from the comfort of your queen-sized bed, you moaned in anguish.
Your face became increasingly hot as you read the comments with your third glass of wine in hand. As much as you thought the comments would be demeaning to the pro-hero, the exact opposite happened!
[COMMENT] Did you see how he took up for his secretary? Omg, that was so hot.
• 45k likes • 216 shares
[COMMENT] The way he took her hand going off the set!!!!
• 78k likes • 12k shares
[COMMENT] Oh god, send me a man like Dynamight…
• 57k likes • 2k shares
[COMMENT] Bro there’s no way they aren’t fucking
• 180k likes • 3.8k shares
Of course, that’s the top comment.
Staring at your computer, you tried hard to fathom the situation you were now slapped into. The video of you and Dynamight has gone viral, and everyone now suspects that you two are in a relationship.
And they're not entirely wrong...
Despite your late-night attempts to contact the fiery hero, your calls went straight to voicemail and your texts went unanswered. Letting out a large sigh that was once trapped in your chest, you had no choice but to sit there and let the bomb explode. And await the absolute nuke that was urging to be dropped at the office.
Staring at the messages you sent Dynamight, you scowled. “Flashy piece of carbon fiber pants thinks he’s the shit and can just ignore my messages? Leaving me to the wolves once again!” you shouted in anger. You threw your phone to the end of your bed and buried yourself in your plush duvet. Your throat becomes tight as your eyes are welled with tears.
“I’m gonna teach you, Dynamight, to never fuck with me or any other secretary again.”
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The pattern of clicking heels and bustling conversations filled the office today. Usually, the bleak energy of Dynamight's office could be caught with little to no attention. But the sight you’ve seen today was out of the ordinary.
“The printers are down; just send emails!”
“Has anyone been in contact with Pop Magazine? They’re completely blocking our calls!”
“God damn it, I need a raise!”
The chitter-chatter amongst your coworkers is at an all-time high. As you started to quicken the pace of your steps around the office, scowls and stares were slapped across your face. Stepping foot by foot, you reach the bathroom and hide in the nearest stall.
The door bursts open before you can even think about taking another breath. “Can you believe Dynamight fired Hitomi and Sakura for telling the truth? I mean, the whole floor has seen the video! Even Red was speechless.” A woman says her friend snickers at her remark before chiming in.
 “I’d like to see little miss Secretary say something now; she’s not beating the slut-cretary allegations at this point–”
You didn’t know what came over you at the moment, but your feet began to move before your mind could comprehend what the actual fuck was going on. Slamming the stall open, you watch the two women flinched at your action. Eyes going wide, they stare into your soulless eyes, filled with an incomprehensible anger that you didn’t know was held within you.
“First off, let’s get one thing straight right now.”
You said it flatly, closing the stall behind you. You walked up towards the duo and closed in on them. “Me and Dynamight are not a thing; have you ever taken into consideration that I’m the only person who’s in charge of this man's reputation and career, as we both fucking know it?”
"So, of course, I’ll be hip-and-hip with the brute. Do you think I want that man in that play-pen he calls a fucking office? Oh please, Dynamight needs my ass because he can barely keep his head on every second of the day. So just maybe, we should all realize how valuable I am to all of your lives!”
“Because I know that if I wasn’t here, this building would be in flames, man-made or not.”
You spoke sternly with each huff of your breath, and the two women in front of you were left speechless. Your frown soon curled into a small twitch of a smirk before you spoke once more. “So excuse me for needing to be spoken up for. You bitches, have a nice day.”
Without looking back, your feet trailed confidently out of the boss battle that was the ladies' room and straight toward Dynamight's office. With each harsh click of your heels, you stepped closer to the office, your frown stuck and growing deeper by the second. Your coworkers took into account the drastic shift in your demeanor. From shy and outspoken to confident and ten cans of bitchy.
Without thinking twice, you throw the door open with a small huff and walk into the domain of the pro-hero. Closing the door softly, you turn at your heel and scowl at Dynamight. His amber eyes burn back at you with an almost unamused look, unphased by the absolute chaos ensuing beyond the Acia wood door.
“So what? Are we just going to ignore what the press is saying about us?” You said flatly.
“I ignored your annoying ass text messages pretty much the same way,” he snapped back slyly.
This asshat.
As you stormed towards his desk, you slammed your hands against it with a loud slap that made your palms sting. “Is it possible for you to actually talk about the issue and not be a fucking brat?” You spat with anger.
Dynamight's laidback/unbothered exterior soon crumbles in slow motion. From sitting back in his seat, he approaches you with a smooth motion, his eyes glowing amber-red as his elbows land on said desk. Looking straight into your eyes, a devilish smirk etches across his face.
“Say that again for me, Y/N; go ahead.”
Faces close to one another, you could feel the heat radiating off of the hero. You frown at his attempt at intimidation, snapping your eyes away for a single millisecond before you feel a strong, warm grip on your face.
“No, don’t look away now, pretty. Say what you just said to me again. Since you have all the audacity in the world today,” he said with amusement oozing from his tone. You groaned at the sensation of his hand gripping your face, swallowing down your fear. You spoke once more.
“I said, Man up, brat.”
A long-standing pause settles over the room as his gaze burns into your eyes. Suddenly, Dynamight stands up with one swift move. The blonde removes his hand from your face, you moan in anguish at the fade of his unsettling grip and stare into the blonde's eyes once more.
You watch as the hero points his finger at himself with a mischievous smirk,
“You wanna see a brat? I’ll show you a fucking brat!”
He brushes past you and storms out of the room. Shouting your name for you to follow, you quickly turn to follow in blood-curdling anger. You knew he was a pro and all, but there’s a statistic that for every 1 out of 5 chances, a villain can take a perfect hit at a hero of his caliber.
So you might take a chance and strike him at his weak point…
Preferably somewhere in the lower region.
You watch as Dynamight calls for an emergency meeting, calling for all staff to be in attendance. All staff from each agency scurry behind his steps, and even Red Riot follows suit. He tries to calm the hero down, but his efforts fail.
As the workers sat swiftly to hear the beloved hero's comments, your heart began to beat a new rhythm as the truth dawned on you about what you dreaded would happen next.
"So, I believe we all understand why we're in here. So let's address some rumors and set them to fuckin’ rest."
A sudden pang of fear hits your chest and seeps into your body as you hear the words fall off Dynamight's tongue and through the audience of your coworkers. Eyes scan the room until your eyes fall upon a certain red-headed main in the back towards the exit.
Letting out a soft exhale of relief, you speed your way toward Red Riot.
“Red!” You spoke aloud as you gained the attention of the other pro hero. His eyes snap towards you and he points towards his beloved partner in utter confusion. “What the hell is happening now?” He exasperates in exhaustion.
“He’s having a hissy fit because he can’t handle when the public negatively views him–”
“Negative?” He interrupted. You roll your eyes and raise your hands, completely giving up on the situation playing in front of you. “Dude bumped up 10 ranks in public favor, what the hell could he be upset for?” Red Riot spoke in confusion.
Holding your briefcase towards your chest, you sigh at the current baby of the hero stabbing daggers into your form.
“I…I’m not sure.”
As the assembly room filled up, every person in their seat watched attentively as they awaited the hero's urgent message. The blonde clears his throat before groggily shoving them in his pants. Silently pacing back and forth the head of the room with slow steps, eyes still trained onto you.
“I know what everyone is thinking to themselves, why the fuck are we here? Well, I need to address some petty rumors that are going on in the concrete hellscape.”
“All Might save us…” Red Riot groaned quietly as he watched in secondhand embarrassment at the Blondes' stunts.
"If you think me and my secretary have a romantic relationship, I'm afraid you're damn wrong.”
“Don’t listen to what I might’ve said in the past, or what I’ve said in the present. It ain’t true.”
Blah blah blah, blop blop blop.
You swore you could’ve seen physical bullshit fly out of his mouth.
“To prove this…I’m happily engaged!” The hero boasts confidently to the crowd of his workers. Shoving his right hand out of his pocket and out towards the expecting crowd. A diamond-banded ring shone brightly in the bright haze of corporate lighting.
Then, in a moment both shocking and surreal, Dynamight seizes the attention of the room with a declaration that sends ripples of astonishment through the assembled crowd. With a brashness that borders on audacity, he confronts the swirling rumors head-on, his words cutting through the murmurs like a lightning bolt.
In the sudden hush that follows, the truth is laid bare, raw, and unfiltered. The bombshell revelation of your engagement sends shockwaves through the room, leaving jaws agape and minds reeling. Eyes widen in disbelief as whispers erupt, spreading like wildfire among the stunned onlookers.
Yet, amidst the chaos, Dynamight stands undaunted, his demeanor unwavering despite the tempest of reaction he has incited. His confidence radiates as he confronts the storm of speculation with a rare candor, unapologetic in the face of scrutiny.
Calm within the midst of the business casual storm.
As for you, on the other hand, you could only think of one thing to do in this situation. Your feet rush towards the blonde with a speed never before seen, and your hand flies back as far as possible before landing a seething slap on the hero’s cheek.
Dynamight lets out a gasp of shock (and so does everyone else in the room) at your hit. You stood in front of the hero for only a moment before rushing out of the room and straight out of the office.
And now what was left of you was your body sulking under your covers once more. Leaving you to pick up the pieces of your self-worth once more.
You should consider just giving up, calling off the engagement, and leaving the industry for the rest of your life. A soulless desk job would be better than whatever the fuck this reality is right now.
So much for that speech in the ladies' room...
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You tried hard to care for and take up for the hero you worked for, but at times like this, your vendetta only grew stronger. And the more your sister became right. But there's a voice in the back of your head that is somewhat empathetic for the hero.
Look at his family, for All Might’s sake!
An overprotective bitch for a mother, and an emotional father with no backbone.
(it’s okay for men to show their emotions!!!)
Of course, that would create a man with a lack of emotions and a soul-crushing ego to overcompensate for it.
Of fucking course!
Sighing into your pillow, you could only fantasize about the words you’d want to say to that man right now. 
“Tight pants, brazen-boned, bastard.” You grit your teeth together, as the words only make you angrier. “Beady-eyed, dog-mannered, dimwad!” You throw your blankets off your body and jump out of bed. Rushing towards the kitchen, you grab the fridge handle and swing the door open.
“Fuck!”
No beer.
Huffing out a defeated sigh, you eye the clock on the counter. It read 11:45.
Licking your lips, you ponder as you stare at the fridge and back at the clock. You might as well go out for a walk to cool some steam off. Shuffling over to your coat rack, you lazily threw on a hoodie and some slides. Grabbing your purse and your keys, you open the door to your apartment.
Rummaging in your purse for some convenience store coupons, you continued on your slew of words. “I bet he’s not even a real blonde, just a poser of a man-baby–”
“Hah?”
Eyes snapping wide from the voice, you jump back in shock as you see the man of the hour.
“What the hell are you doing here, Dynamight? Do you know what time it is?” You exclaimed in shock, mouth twisted down into a frown. You stared down at the blonde in anger and in utter embarrassment. Looking down further, you noticed he had a couple of bags in his hands.
Beer and chicken?
“Let me in, we need to talk.”
You scoff at the man's words as you throw your purse over your shoulder. “As if, do you know how you embarrassed me and you today?” You spoke with venom at the hero. Dynamight rolls his eyes before he speaks once more, “If it makes you feel any damn better, I made them all sign NDAs.”
You stare at the hero once more in confusion, and he stares back…unwavering in his actions.
“Okay, sure, do whatever you think will place a bandaid over this whole shit show for all I care.” Placing your hands on your hips, you watch the pro hero step towards you. “Yeah? Well, it's a pretty strong bandaid.”
You hum back in response before the both of you fall into silence. The both of you gazed at each other awkwardly, before tearing your gaze away. A light blush warms your face which makes you look down once more. Looking at the bags of fried chicken and beer, you look at Dynamights hand…
His engagement ring is still on!
“You idiot!”
Frantically looking around the outside of your apartment, you turn back and quickly open the door. You then hold the hero by the collar before shoving him inside. He follows suit with a grunt before shutting the door behind him.
“What the hell is your problem?” He cursed at you.
“My problem? My problem is that you come out to my doorstep late at night bearing a peace offering with your ring on, shining brighter than ever! Fuck-face!” You cursed back. This makes the blonde smirk at your complaint.
“If you think someone is watching us, then you’re pretty late to the party,” he chuckles.
“W-what?” you stuttered in anxiety, breaking from his gaze. You locked the doors and shut the blinds to your home. “Calm down; I paid them off a long time ago,” Dynamight rummages through the bags before setting the food and beer out on the dining table.
“Paid them off?” you asked.
“Yeah, they started watching you as soon as you pulled that stunt at the children's interview a while back. They were going to trample your door down just for a couple of gabs about me.” He spoke, cracking open a can of beer. The hero takes a couple of gulps before placing the can down.
Pulling out a chair, the hero sat down and began to speak. “You think you do all of the protecting when it's me.” He takes another swig of his beer as he stares into your eyes. You swallow a lump in your throat before you grab a seat as well.
“But you can’t say I haven’t.” You trailed off.
“Haven’t what?” He asked.
“Took care of you; everyone thinks you're this strong force to never be reckoned with, but you’re the complete opposite,” you rambled as you grabbed a can of beer and cracked it open. Taking a refreshing, much-needed swig.
Katsuki never responded.
“Y’know, it’s crazy how much this position has changed me. For the good or worse… I’m not so sure.” You spoke softly towards the hero.
“And why do you think that, Y/n?” He asked.
You bit the inside of your cheek at the question. “Before I came to this agency, I never knew what it was like to take care of someone besides myself. And even then, I was doing a shit job at it. My life was teetering on by a thin string.”
The room was silent, the only noises being the taping of Katsuki’s foot, the ticking of the clock, and the hum of your refrigerator.
“So what? You’ve never helped someone out before? Beating someone’s ass with your quirk? Nothin’?” Katsuki spoke, trying to understand where you’re coming from. But you could only let out a big sigh.
"Well, technically, I’m kinda quirkless.”
Katsuki’s tapping stopped.
He gave you a look you’ve never seen before; his eyes were growing soft and his chest began to fall. Like he’s loosening up or something. The blonde stared intensely at you, waiting for you to speak once more. Biting your lip, you continued once more.
“It's like it comes in little spurts, no matter how hard I try to concentrate and force it out. It’ll only come out at the randomest of times. I’ve never seen myself at full power before.”
“One moment I was just like you, young and so excited about my quirk. I grew up thinking that I was going to save the world and that I’d work hard and conquer my way to the top. But the thing is, as yours grew stronger, I was only getting weaker. And the next thing I knew, I woke up, and it was gone.”
“So I went through life with the mentality that I needed to give myself a bit more attention; I couldn’t just wing through life knowing that my quirk could save me. But I knew that if I could have a position of power, that would make me feel like I was making a difference out there for you of all people…”
You suddenly laughed at yourself, taking another swig of your beer.
“Sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying, I’m already buzzed.”
“No.”
You looked at Katsuki as he spoke, a frown on his lips as he shook his head. You couldn't help but laugh at his demeanor. “All I’m saying is that maybe I wasn’t as cut out for this as I thought I would be. Maybe I’m meant to be a walking target that villains can smell. I’m a walking damsel in distress, honestly. If we didn’t meet through the agency, we could’ve met that way most likely–”
“Shut up.”
Katsuki deadpanned at your words.
“I knew someone who was quirkless, and that loser is stronger than me for all might’s sake!” He exclaimed.
“All I’m saying is that you have a good life, so be proud of it. You work hard, harder than I’ve seen most of the chicken heads that I’ve hired. So bask in that glory.” He says softly, you roll your eyes before you start up again.
“I have a good life? Says the multi-acclaimed pro hero Dynamight! Ranked number two out of the whole country, he drives a red sports car, lives in a nice childhood home, goes to a great school, gets to roll around in money, and gets to tell people how they should dress for five days out of the week? Right, my life is really good.”
You snorted at yourself, reveling in the truth you spoke. But all Katsuki could do was shake his head.
“That same person who you were talking about has almost died countless times, kidnapped in their first year of high school, and has lost too many friends and mentors to count. So yeah, I consider you to have a good life.”
You let out a bittersweet chuckle at his words, “There’s one more thing too.” You added on, Katsuki raised his eyebrows in amusement, “like?”
“You’re also the last to get married.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes and lets out an amused smirk. “Right, that’s checkmate for me–”
“How come you’re the last? I would think that you’d be the first! You’re not a bad-looking guy; you might need to work in the emotional availability department but. You’re crystal clear.”
“I uh…  I tried to do the whole young love thing but it didn’t work out in my favor.” He responded softly towards the touchy subject, but you decided to persist.
“And why do you think that, Katsuki?”
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Back when Bakugo was a younger, newly emerged pro, there was someone of his caliber that he found perfect. They had the spunk, the quirk, the personality, the looks, even the barons. He believed they were perfect for each other.
He had his sights set on them since he had been working in the force. At first, they were a nice distraction. Clever banter turned into hot makeout sessions. Training days turned into blanket-covered nights where the both of them would talk about their future.
And back then, he believed it. He believed that he had a future with them.
Sometimes he would envy Kirishima; he didn’t understand why he wasn’t chosen to bear the burden of love. A warmth beyond his comprehension, a family that he could selfishly call his own.
Sometimes his mind would trail back to that night. A night that he wished he could forget. A thought that he wished could be locked away forever. He remembers the sight as he looked into their eyes—the utter betrayal.
The smirk of mischief and evil as the one and only person he ever could love has turned against him. The moment when he got stabbed in the chest, too close to his heart. And in that moment, he had to choose selfishly in a way he never wanted to.
And that choice was his life over theirs.
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You didn’t know what to say at the moment, Katuski just dropped the biggest bomb you had the burden of holding. Stammering with your thoughts, you say the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Katsuki…”
“I would’ve never known–”
“It wasn’t for you to know; I don’t even know why I told you that,” he said to himself. You softly smile at his harsh words.
“Well, not to toot my own horn but I’m your fiance,” you chuckled. Katsuki gives you a smirk before he looks at your hand. "Then, where’s your ring?” He asked.
“In my room, placed somewhere safe and out of harm's way!” you smiled.
"Well, I’m gonna need you to start wearin’ it more,” he retorted.
“I figured that after your little speech, you gave us away like you weren’t even trying.” You spat out sarcastically. “I didn’t even mention your name!” He raised his voice in protest. “Yeah? Well, I’m sure everyone connected the dots to a perfect fuckin T.” You spoke with a smirk.
"Well then if they decide to connect those lines to the press, that NDA will be there waiting for them to get bit in the ass,” he snapped back.
You laugh at his words before taking a final sip of your beer.
“Why did you choose to give yourself a chance with me?”
Oh, you were buzzed.
“You are a hero that’s supposed to date other heroes, top models, and superstars of your caliber. Why date some small-town secretary that doesn’t even fully have a quirk?” you spoke, just above a whisper. Scared of his next response. Feeling that as if you got the wrong response, you just might hurl all over him.
Katsuki lets out a sigh before he silently panders to himself. He was eyeing you up and down before he finally spoke with a smirk.
“I’m not sure, wishful thinking?”
“asshole”
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YAAAAAAAAASSSSUHU IM BACK IM BACK
I saw all your comments begging me to come back, next chapter when? next chapter when? NEXT CHAPTER NOW HOE
As you all might know now, I am a busy college student who finally has time to fantasize and write to my heart's content. SO YOU WILL BE GETTING MORE CHAPTERS OUT OF ME VERY SOON!!
Thank you all so much for the support, I love you all and hope you guys have an amazing read! Please let me know how I did in the comments. Comments and reposts are very much appreciated!!
— lovelyiida 
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bigtreefest · 2 days
Text
Chapter 8: What Took You So Long
From: Bigger Houses Series
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Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader
Summary: Finding forever took forever. Now it’s time to slow it down.
Word Count: 3,414
Content/Warnings: moderate alcohol consumption, mildly negative self-talk, looking back on the past, poking fun, mild swears, entirely too much affection, learning to cook, mild allusions to adult fun times, pet name usage
A/N: hehehe, the thought of grocery shopping with a SO has been eating me up recently. Also, a good friend of mine thinks I’m becoming disillusioned to what real-life romance is like. Oops
Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!
Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Below is the song which inspired this chapter. Talk about sappy.
< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >
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You and Ari were grocery shopping when it hit him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. A part of him had known the whole time, but this moment had really made it click.
You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes instead favoring the rows of produce, mentioning facts about how to determine when each fruit or vegetable was ripe. It was beautifully mundane, it was you sharing a little more of yourself and your wide breadth of knowledge he could never get over, and it was everything he ever wanted to love for the rest of time.
He was in awe of the way you moved through the aisles, your natural understanding of everything a person could possibly need, and how well you knew his preferences.
You pulled out spices, describing the dishes that utilize them. You explained the importance of salt, but not too much, and why a person could possibly need more than one kind. You walked him through different ways to make a balanced meal. The entire time, he was enthralled. He was completely taken by you and hung on to every word like it would save his life. Well, it sort of already did.
The two of you went to the checkout counter with your full cart, Ari pushing it as you began to load the items onto the belt.
Ari helped the cashier bag them up, and before he could even think to pull out his wallet, you’d already swiped your card. Ari cocked his head to the side, his long hair that peeked out from under his hat swaying. The ball cap looked so funny in juxtaposition to his ranger uniform, which he still wore as a product of you picking him up from work. His eyebrow raised as if to say ‘seriously?’
You smiled and shrugged as you took the receipt, skipping off in front of him as he pushed the cart out of the store and to your SUV. You slowed to allow him to catch up.
“You know I could’ve gotten that. These groceries are for my house, after all.” You laughed before reaching the car and pressing the button for the lift gate.
As the trunk began to open, Ari parked the cart and you felt arms wrap around you from behind. His beard bristled against your neck as he nestled in with his chin on your shoulder and kissed your cheek.
A soft smile remained on your face. “Consider it a gift. Welcome to independence, and official adulthood.”
He laughed into your hair. “Well it hardly counts as independence if you just took care of me. Swooping down to save the day again like the Angel you are. If you’re not careful, people are gonna think you’re my sugar mommy. Then I’m definitely not independent or much of a full-on grown-up.”
You rolled your eyes before turning around to start placing the bags into the trunk, keeping your head down doing your best to hide your blush at what Ari just said. You loved that he thought the world of you, and loving Ari like that was easy. Now, in terms of the sugar mommy comment, you both knew your job paid better, but neither had an issue with it, so any time it came up, he loved to joke like that, despite him having some savings from living so modestly.
Once you finished loading, you looked up into his sparkling eyes, creased with the smile he always wore when around you, finally replying. “I’ll give you sugar, you just have to wait until we’re home for it.”
You winked before giving him a chaste kiss, far too short for his liking, closing the trunk, and hopping up into the driver’s side, leaving Ari to return the cart.
When Ari returned to you, you started the car towards his cabin. You drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding his over the center console. His thumb absent-mindedly stroked the back of your hand as Ari looked out the window, thinking about how he was going to pick out a ring.
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Ari was finally losing his bachelor fridge. Gone were the days of it only housing lunch meat and beer.
You had just helped him finish putting away the new haul as he had gotten changed out of his uniform. Everything had a place and he had never seen the cabinets so full. You had a methodical system he really appreciated.
Ari’s hands were on your hips as he was about to set you on the counter before you stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.
“Wait, stop.”
He looked at you confused.
You removed your hand from his chest and held a pointer finger up. “One more thing. Gimme a sec. I left it in the car.”
You dipped under his arm that had you barricaded against the counter, running towards the front door and slipping on the first pair of shoes you saw, Ari’s massive boots clopping as you ran on the driveway. You opened up the back door of your car, looking under the seat to pull out a small package wrapped in brown paper and a twine bow.
You ran back in to where Ari was still standing there with his mouth agape, one hand on the countertop, the other on his hip. You cautiously crept towards him with the package tucked behind your back.
His face morphed into a suspicious smile. “Whatcha got there, Duchess?”
You giggled, toes meeting his as you looked up at his towering form. He made a move to reach behind your back before you quickly slid out of his reach.
“Ah ah ah, surprises are meant to be given, not stolen, ya little klepto. Now close your eyes.”
Ari’s head fell forward with a sigh before looking back at you through his eyelashes. “Fine.”
His eyelids fluttered shut as he held out his hands and you pulled the small package out from behind your back, carefully placing it.
“Okay, open.” Ari looked down at the brown paper intently.
“What is it? What’s the occasion? You already bought my groceries.”
He set it on the counter before propping you up onto the island like he had tried to before. You shrugged, your hands gripping the edge as your feet swung.
“Open it. I know we didn’t really discuss gifts or anything, but happy one year of me almost hitting you with my car.”
He laughed, picking it up again and untying the twine. “The first or second time?”
He knew which time. It was the first one. He marked the day as soon as he’d gotten home from your first coffee shop date, counting back the days to that fateful run-in on the mountain pass.
You kicked his thigh lightly before silently urging him to tear open the paper. It revealed a small cookbook.
“‘Cooking for Two?’ What-“ His eyes grew wide. “You’re not…” he looked around before ducking his head slightly and whispering. “Pregnant…are you?”
You shoved him back. “What!? No. No!”
You shook your head frantically. “Absolutely not. That is not what this means.”
The two of you were more than careful enough to make sure that didn’t happen—at least not right now. You’d made sure to find the right birth control and Ari took proper precautions on his end, as well.
You laughed uncomfortably before going silent. Ari let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, that’s good- I mean, not that I wouldn’t….like, well, kids….um.”
You calmed him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “I-I get it trust me. I want kids, too someday, just not right now. It’s okay, we’re on the same page about that.”
He nodded and placed his head on your shoulder as your hand moved to stroke his hair.
“Thank you for understanding me. Where have you been all my life?” Seriously, he couldn’t believe that heaven ever let him find you.
You placed a kiss on his temple. “I was getting prepared to meet you.”
You leaned back to catch his gaze. “Now let me explain. This book, which is most definitely not a pregnancy cookbook, is because I’m hoping to start spending more dinners here now that you’re all stocked. As much as I love cooking for you, I think it’s important we both know how.”
You gestured your head to the single book that sat on the shelf in the corner of his kitchen. “Plus, I think you’ve earned an addition to the collection. You’ve graduated on to the next best thing. The pizza incident is a thing of the past.”
He shook his head reminiscing on the memory. “It’s not my fault you distracted me.”
You looked at him with feigned shock and disbelief as he leaned in for a kiss. “But as my present to you, let me cook you dinner?”
You nodded, leaning in to meet him. The kiss was soft and slow before it became needier. Ari tried pulling you close, his one arm falling from your waist down to your hip, the other still holding the book, before you placed your hand on his chest again, pushing him away.
“Nice try, Bear, but I’m starving. As much as I wanted to see where that kiss went, I want food more. Chop chop.”
You grabbed the other end of the book still sitting in your lap and gently raised it, pushing it towards his face and turning him towards the stove.
“You pick out a recipe while I get some drinks started for us. Sound good?”
As much as Ari would’ve grumbled at anyone else, he was happy to oblige you, flipping through the pages as you pulled out two glasses and began pouring.
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Ari was so happy with the way you took over his space. Everywhere he looked, he saw you. Every room in the small shack had been filled with laughs and memories that filled his chest with warmth. Gone were the days that pained him to even look at the walls as the darkness seeped in. All that existed was light. It shined off of you and stayed reflecting off every surface, leaving an imprint of contentment in Ari’s brain, even when you weren’t here.
Ari leaned back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed as he simply watched you. Over the period of him preparing the meal that was nearly finished, you had changed into one of his old wildlife conservation hoodies he’d gotten from working a fundraiser.
You danced without a care in the world, swaying with your arms above your head to the music you had blasting through the small cabin. Your one hand held your second cocktail of the evening.
As much as Ari hated to, he had to pull his gaze off you for a second to check the roast on the stove. When he opened the pot lid, you caught a whiff of the truly delectable scent. The sweetness of carrots swirled with the seasoning blend over the braised beef.
You set your glass down on the island, dancing over to him and stepping up behind the wall of a man. No spanks in the kitchen was a long-standing rule, which was a shame for the sweatpants he was wearing, but nothing was ever contested about hugs.
Your arms snaked around his waist and up under the front of his shirt as you rested your cheek between his shoulder blades. You could feel the ripple of each muscle as his arms expertly maneuvered and he breathed steadily, it was like marble that moved. Yet, there was a softness to it, maybe from the sensation of the chest hair under your fingertips, maybe from the smell of the fabric softener he used. There was always a softness to Ari, especially around you.
He hummed, reaching to pull low-rimmed bowls down from the cabinet, serving up the meal and setting it aside before running his hands up his shirt to meet yours. He turned around and pulled your hands between the two of you, placing a kiss on each hand, right on the ring finger. Starting forever was at the forefront of his mind, unbeknownst to you.
“Ready to eat?”
You nodded with wide eyes, grabbing silverware and dancing over to the dining room as Ari followed with your meals, dancing along.
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As the sun fell, you and Ari were still sitting at his dining room table. His small work-provided cabin didn’t offer much room to move around, but there was just enough for the two of you and you didn’t mind being cozy.
You were putting together a puzzle under the warm lighting, newly donned fuzzy socks on your feet that he’d tucked away as a surprise for this very special day, finally giving them to you after dinner.
The two of you moved quickly, but not hastily, as you passed Ari the outline pieces and you worked to piece together the internal scenery. Your movements were paired with witty banter and discussions about past lives. No matter how much time you spent together, you could never learn enough. You wanted to know everything.
“So that was the spring break I spent doing cleanup work for a tornado. It’s not like I had any plans otherwise besides going home, but my mom understood it was what I needed to do.”
Ari nodded along. He enjoyed learning about the road you took that led your hearts to each other. All the things you did with your hours and your minutes. Seriously, what didn’t you do? Even now you were constantly on the move, filling your schedule with valuable, enriching things. You chased your dreams even if they took you far away from your hometown. At least, that was how he saw it. How could you always find the time to be with him? To dedicate to him when you had so many other things on your plate?
He didn’t want to question it too much, though, for fear that you’d catch on and think he didn’t live up to how amazing you were. But Ari thought to himself more, realizing the good he really had done. What took him so long? Where had this version of him been all his life? You had awoken it in him. You had pushed him to become a better version of himself.
He was roused from his thoughts by your question. “So what about you? Ever do anything fun for spring break in college?”
Ari’s eyebrows rose as he thought back to it. He hadn’t finished college and it honestly seemed like a lifetime ago. He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair.
“Well, I only had two spring breaks. I remember going down to Daytona beach with some buddies of mine, getting drunk on Coronas and them all being drunk on love with whoever they met down there.”
You took a sip of your drink, nodding as you swallowed. “Sounds about normal. I bet you were a charmer back in the day, too. Sometimes I wish we’d met then.”
Ari shook his head vigorously at that, taking the drink from your hands and finishing it down. “Ehhhh…I’m not so sure about that. I do not think you would’ve liked to have met me then. I probably wasn’t deserving to be in your arms.”
Your brows pinched together as you took the drink back, going to Ari’s fridge and getting a fresh round of beer, hunching over to reach the shelf. “I don’t agree that you weren’t deserving. Sure, we lived different lives, but you were still you.”
Ari thanked you as you placed the new bottle in his hand, taking your seat again and shuffling the puzzle pieces.
“I mean, Bear, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who actually cares about being a ranger as much as you do. You go to all those little conferences and retreats and trainings and actually enjoy them. That’s not just a trait that develops overnight. It’s character.”
Ari blushed. Not even the cold beer was enough to counteract the warmth in his cheeks that came around when you said little things like that. When he could see how much of the little things you noticed. When you saw him.
He scoffed and tried to brush it off, though. As much as he loved to hear your praise, he respectfully disagreed with your assessment of his college self. Sure, if it had been up to him then, he would’ve been ecstatic to meet you a lot sooner, but God knew what he was doing making Ari wait all this time.
“Nah, I was a bit of a punk. And I wasn’t ready then to meet someone like you, but I think I’m ready now.” It was true. Right when Ari met you was when his world started spinning, but he wouldn’t have been able to handle it as the immature, reckless, and restless young delinquent he was.
“I definitely wasn’t doing humanitarian work like you. Trust me, Duchess, if you would’ve seen me…let’s just say…I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten the opportunity like now to kiss you every morning with the sunshine. I would’ve blown it pretty early on.”
You shrugged and continued to snap pieces into place with one hand while the other reached for his, pulling it to your lips for a kiss. “Agree to disagree.”
The puzzle was shaping up now, as you worked to slide your solved chunks in towards the middle with Ari. Only a few pieces were left to be placed.
Ari continued to work on the task at hand, but it took a back seat in his mind to the main show that was you. Sure, he loved little activities, but mostly, he just loved you and the time you could spend together. He’d do anything if it meant just stealing another moment.
As you were close to finishing, there were two spots open, but only one puzzle piece left. You stood up, looking on your seat, spinning around to check the floor, and even peeking under the mostly-solved puzzle with no luck.
“Bear, stand up. Do you see the last piece anywhere? Can you please help me find it?”
He stood up and cleared his throat. “Sure thing. It’s gotta be here somewhere. This was a new set. Couldn’t have gone far.”
The two of you looked over every nearby surface, Ari even checking the fridge to see if you’d tracked it into there somehow, and to get himself another drink after looking for the piece at the bottom of his bottle.
Somehow this hunt had turned into a dance, though. Or…more of a hobble?, as Ari had wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you from behind and resting his head over one shoulder, taking big, goofy, swaying steps with you.
He lived for this. Really. Where had you been all his life? This night was another quotidian moment he wanted to bask in. He felt like it had taken him forever to find the one he wanted to spend forever with, but now that he did, he just wanted time to slow down. He wanted to drag out this night just a little bit longer.
You turned around in his hold, hands rubbing his chest and abs over the old hoodie he wore. Your nails raked up and down, sending tingles to the firm muscles under the plush fabric. Ari held you close, large hands splayed against your lower back. As your hand brushed over the pocket in his sweatshirt, you felt something small and flat with sharp edges.
“Hm, that’s suspicious.” Your head tilted as you looked up at the tree of a man, a sly smile on his face, looking back down at you.
“Oh, Angel, I’m just excited to see you.”
Without breaking eye contact, you reached into the pocket, finding exactly what you’d expected, mouth open in a small gasp of fake shock.
“As much as you wish it were, not everything is about your dick, Levinson.”
You winked and leaned up to kiss his cheek. Ari simply gave a shrug as you shimmied out of his hold and back over to the table, sliding the final puzzle piece into place. This was a mimetic moment for him; a visual representation of what you’d done in his life, and he planned to never let you go.
Next >
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Bonus A/N: Bro, a lil sap who thinks the world of me? That’s all I want. Fr Fr.
If you agree, I’d love to hear about it. Drop me a comment or reblog. Thank you for reading!!
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51 notes · View notes
newwritergirl · 2 days
Text
Starting over | Part 8
Part 7 | 6 | 5 | 4 | 3 | 2 | 1
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Summary: Y/n once lived in hell, until she gets to know that there’s another life for her, far away from pain and tears.
Jake and Bradley living their bachelor life in a cozy house in Miramar, until a young woman and her baggage falls into their life.
I used the TG:M characters and the setting for the following, my very first, story. It's heavily au and probably ooc. Jake and Bradley are finally best friends, sharing a house at Miramar. The Dagger Team is permanently stationed on based, finally living a settled life.
Trigger warnings: 18+!, past abusive relationship, inaccurate Navy knowledge, hurt/sick reader, angst, drama, protective Rooster and Hangman, angry and protective Phoenix, start of a poly-relationship.
A/N: Please reblog if you like my work. Thanks for supporting me.
Didnt' get the chance to proof read the new chapter properly.
Word Count: 3.0k+
That night was y/n's most comfortable one, the safest and without any nightmares. Her two roommates shielded her from the cruel world, from the demons out there and from the demons in her head. So this sleeping arrangement became their irregular tradition. They were never pushy or made y/n feel that she is obligated to sleep in one of their beds. It was like they seemed to feel when one of them had a rough day and is in need of more bodily contact, especially at the night.
The only thing which makes the young woman wonder is that they never talk about that. There was no real conversation about the three of them currently cuddling all together, sharing a bed from time to time, no word about the small lingering kisses both aviators give their female friend, no explanation for their more gentle touches or their lost looks in their eyes when they're watching the young woman. Y/n enjoys the attention from her two roommates. She likes their touches, their small kisses to her cheeks make her shiver, but also makes her missing their lips on hers. But she also confused. Why did their behavior changed in the last weeks? Is it out of pity? Or are they falling for her like she's falling for them? What happens when one of them breaks? Of course she will be the one to move out. Jake and Bradley's friendship lasts longer than the friendship they have with her. She doesn't want to destroy either of the friendships, but she also can't stop to feel this warm and special feeling in her heart for both men. The thought of her moving out, to leave her friends behind is eating her alive. She just found a safe space within these two fine naval pilots. She can feel her heart healing from her last relationship, but she can also feel her fragile heart breaking by the thought of losing them both. How could she fall for both her friends? How stupid and desperate must she be? She can't just choose one of them just like that. She needs both. When she's snuggling with both men it's the first time she feels whole and loved. But she can't just love two men, can she?
Jake and Bradley on the other side are more than dead certain about their feelings and about what they want. They're both falling for the young woman and they even enjoy each other's company on a completely new level. But they both made the agreement to not overwhelm y/n or to pressure her into something. They want her to make the first step, to start the conversation about their relationship. What they don't notice is that the younger woman is now more than confused.
---
It is a slow night at the Hard Deck. The Navy Bar isn't as packed as usually. There're nearly only patrons there, nursing their beer, chatting with friends or playing pool. Y/n loves these slow evenings with her friends where she doesn't have to fear of bumping into a million sweaty and drunk people on her way to the restrooms or the bar. Even today when the bar is rather empty both Jake and Bradley never seem to really leave their female friend alone. One of them is always touching y/n, not in an inappropriate way, more like they're afraid that the shy woman will disappear if they don't hold her tight. So much affection and intimate moments are new. Y/n wonders why they're both so clingy with her today. These lovingly touches and stares in public is something they haven't done the last weeks. Their cuddly moments were only for their time at home, without prying eyes and the risk of questions which y/n doesn't know the answers to.
A loud cheering brings the young woman out if her daydream. She still feels Jake's hand rubbing soft circles on the small of her back, when she looks up at Nat with confused eyes.
"Come on sweetie, it's our turn to get the drinks. Gives us a bit time to take a breath from these morons." Phoenix grabs her friend's hand and leads her to the bar. When she notices that her tall blonde colleague is following them she turns around. "Ah ah, loverboy. We don't need your help." Nat winks at Hangman and ditches him in the middle of the Hard Deck.
---
"So, you like him?" The brunette woman asks y/n as both of them are waiting for their drinks at the bar.
"The guy over there? I don't even know him." y/n laughs shyly. She doesn't like the attention from the stranger across the bar who is shamelessly looking at the two beautiful women waiting for their drinks.
"NOW WAY. He's a creep." Nat says the last word a bit louder and looks over to the guy "Don't like being watched-" and with that the guy looks away rather embarrassed. "- no y/n, I mean Bagman. You like him. He's all cozy today, can't seem to let you out of his grasp today. Or do you like Rooster? He has this lost puppy dog look in his eyes today. And the cute kiss he gave you on your cheek in the parking lot…"
Y/n feels like she just got caught with her hands in the cookie jar.
"I…I-I don't know what you're talking about." Her reply is nothing more than a whisper. She feels her cheeks heating and a flush creeping up her neck. How can she answer that question? She is just as confused as the woman in front of her.
"Hey, this is nothing against you. If any, I'm on your side, girly. I'm just curious. These two idiots changed drastically in the last weeks. Of course you had a good influence on them the day you moved in with them. But the last weeks… I observed them, you. What's going on? What's the deal?"
The smaller woman feels the panic in her chest bubbling up. Her ears are ringing and she can't help herself but steady her shaky legs against the bar.
"I don't know. They're both so good to me. I like being near them…" y/n whispers as she grips the backrest of the barstool in front of her in a bruising grip. She takes a deep breath to overcome the fear and panic in her chest, when a soft and small hand gently strokes her back.
"Y/n, this is no interrogation. I'm just curious and I worry about you. I don't want to see you get hurt, neither of you three."
"I'm so confused, Nat - " the young woman turns around fully to finally open her heart to her only female friend "- I don't know how to explain it."
"It's ok, sweetie. Just try to, I'm not here to judge. I'm your friend, ok?" Phoenix squeezes y/n's sweaty hand, noticing the small twinkle in the other woman's eyes.
"Nat, I'm falling for them. For both of them. I've never felt so loved, safe and warm in my life. Whenever I'm with them, I feel whole. This is so wrong, who the hell is in love with two men and to top it all they're my roommates. What a fucking sl-" but Nat doesn't let her finish her sentence.
"Stop right here. I will never ever hear that word out of your mouth, at least when we're talking about you. You're so far away from being that s-word." She hugs the other in a tight embrace but a familiar voice brings them out their private conversation.
"Hey Ladies, we're waiting for our drinks. You need help?" Bradley taps his hands on the shoulders of the two women. His left hand lingers a bit longer on y/n's back and rubbing a soothing circle in between her shoulder blades.
---
During their short conversation Nat instantly noticed the desperate and sad look in her friend's eyes. She is the last one to judge that y/n obviously had fallen for both her roommates. But she wants, no she needs to know what's happening in the Rooster-Hangman-y/ln household. So she takes the initiative and heads them off when both aviators are on their way back to the pool table.
"Not so fast, you goons. Need to talk to you, both." Bradley and Jake look at each other but don't seem to complain and follow their female colleague out on the deck.
The waves are crashing against the shore, the sun is already set and the wind is a strong and cold breeze. When the three of them stop at the railing and have a look over the dark water, Nat can't help herself but feel her anger towards her two friends starts to boil over.
"So, what's your game? Was it a stupid bet? Or are you two just assholes playing with the feelings of your friend?" Nat puts her hand on her hips even with both taller aviators hovering over her she knows she is the top dog here.
Jake is the first to find his voice after Phoenix accusations. "Okay, slow down here for a moment. What are you talking about? What game or bet? I don't know what's going on. Rooster, a little help here?"
Rooster takes a step closer to his roommate, shaking his head. He has a vague suspicion of what Nat is getting at. But before he can answer one more round is firing out of the woman's mouth.
"You, of all people, you should know how hard it is when an important person plays with your heart. Bagman is an asshole, he just hid it the last two years. But YOU, Rooster, what the fuck is wrong with you?" she pokes her forefinger painfully in Bradley's hard chest.
"Hey, calm down tiger. Let us explain, okay?"
Jake looks a bit panicked as he heard those words out of Bradley's mouth. Explain their situation? Admit that they both have feelings for their female roommate and special feelings for each other? Despite the cold he feels a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, he's nervous. Bradley places a hand on his friend's shoulder as he starts to explain the whole situation to their furious looking friend.
"I'm all ears. But let me get that straight. I want to hear the truth and if this is a stupid dick-measuring contest, who can get y/n in his bed at first, I'm gonna kill you both!"
"We had her in our bed already…" Jake mumbles nearly inaudible but Nat catches his whispered words and instantly goes for him. Seconds before her fist can do any harm to Jake's chest or face, Bradley catches the mad woman.
"Shut the fuck up, Hangman. And you Phoenix, please let him live and let me explain our situation." Rooster tries to calm down the whole situation.
"Jake and I, we fell for y/n. But this is not a competition. We're both in love with her and ok with that. But we don't want to overwhelm her with our idea of a poly relationship, so we decided we wait until she wants to talk to us about the situation."
Phoenix tries to comprehend Bradley's words. They both are in love with y/n, y/n told her she is falling hard for both the aviators. The two men talked already about a poly relationship, the only one left in the dark is the shy and sensitive young woman with the broken heart.
---
Their ride home is unusually quiet. Each of them seems to be in their own small world and lost in thoughts. Phoenix's words are still replaying in both Jake's and Bradley's heads.
"You have to talk to her. And not in three weeks but as soon as possible. This situation is confusing her. She is afraid that she will lose both of you. Please talk to her, she loves you!"
Y/n loves them, both. Nat is right they have to talk to her, now.
When Rooster parks his Bronko in front of their home, y/n was the first one to jump out the car and nearly running to the front door. She noticed the strange mood on their way back home from the Hard Deck and it made her scared. So there's only one thing which came to her mind: flight. She will just hide in her bedroom until the morning, hopefully with a good night's sleep the tension is back to normal.
"Hey, cupcake. Can you - can you come over please?" Jake talks in her direction, she stops dead in her tracks. That's it. They're going to kick you out or worse, they're going to pressure you into a decision. But she can't decide. Y/n tried to dry her clammy hands on her jeans, still not able to turn around and go back to Jake into the living room.
A big warm hand grabs her right arm. She is so deep in thought and afraid of what is to come, that she nearly jumps from the touch and flinches away, closing her eyes, brace herself for the slap. But there is no slap to her face, no kick to her legs, no fist in her ribs. Two strong arms are enveloping her in a tight but warm and familiar hug.
"Hey, Princess. I'm sorry, didn't want to scare ya. You up for a talk, with Jakey and me?"
Y/n instantly feels safe in Bradley's arms. Her back is pressed to his chest and she feels his steady breathing. She nods her head and slowly turns around just to be pressed deeper into the taller man's chest.
"Come on, let's take a seat on the couch, Jakey is waiting for us." with a kiss on top of her head he leads the slightly trembling woman over into the living room.
When she carefully takes a seat beside Hangman he immediately takes one of her smaller hands in his stroking gently over her knuckles. Bradley takes a seat beside his female roommate and starts the most important conversation of his life.
"So, we need to talk to you. Please let me explain and let me finish. You don't have to be afraid, you know we will never hurt you. Jake and I respect your opinion and your decision."
There was the word which makes y/n heart skip a beat. They want a decision from her. She has to choose between her two best friends. Why was she so stupid and fall in love with both of them. Her hands start to tremble violently and a tear makes its way down her cheek.
"Hey, Princess. Don't cry. What's wrong?" Bradley catches her tear with his thump and looks her deep in her eyes. He sees a turmoil in her big eyes, which are under normal conditions big and full of love.
"I - I- I should move out. It's too complicated with me. And don't want to be in your way and I don't want to ruin your friendship. I can't decide, I - I'm falling for you both…" In full blown panic y/n wants to get that out as soon as possible, but the last words are nothing more than a soft whisper. She doesn't want to make this more awkward. When she prepares herself to stand up and go into her bedroom and maybe start packing her stuff, strong arms are enveloping her in a tight hug. Jakes arms are holding her in place, not in a possessive or scaring way. For y/n these arms feel like home.
Bradley softly tilts her chin so that she's no longer looking in her lap.
"Princess. Nobody wants you gone. I make it short, okay. We're both in love with you, Jake and I. You're the best that ever happened to both of us. You're kind, lovely, our ray of sunshine and so beautiful. So Jake and I had an important conversation weeks ago. We talked about the three of us. How we both fell hard for you. How we love to have you around us, to have you in our arms. We - we talked about how a relationship between all three of us would feel like."
The young woman listens intently to Bradley's words. They're in love with her?
"You are in love with me?" she looks confused between Jake and Bradley.
"Yes, cupcake. We're both in love with you. We both want you to become our girlfriend. But we don't want to pressure you into something you don't want. I know that sounds really overwhelming. Take your time, think about it, but please don't shut us out." Jake speaks in a soft tone he doesn't want to scare the small woman in his arms.
She seems to be deep in thought, a lost look in her big eyes. Minutes crawl by without anyone of them dare to speak.
"Princess, you with us?" Bradley squeezes the small and cold hands of the woman in front of him. She once again lifts her head to look the brunette aviator in his warm brown eyes. She opens her mouth but not a word is coming out of her plump lips. To shy and nervous to say something. Bradley cups her cheek with one of his hands. "Y/n, there's no pressure. But please believe us, that we're 100 percent honest with you. There's nothing Jake and I want so much than keeping you safe, cuddling you, kissing you…"
His face is now so close to hers that their noses almost touch, with his last word he closes the distance between him and y/n. When his soft lips touch hers she lets out a soft nearly inaudible moan. Before their kiss gets to heated Bradley takes her head in both his hands and looks her deep in the eyes. She gasps and with big scared eyes she looks at Jake. Unsure of how he will react after seeing her and Bradley share a passionate kiss. But instead of being shocked or mad he just smiles at her, his thumb gently tracing her swollen lips.
"What Bradley said is true, cupcake. There's nothing in this world we want so much than to see you happy and safe. Should we test how we three will be together? One word and we back away, no pressure. Let's see what the future will bring us."
She shyly nods at the blonde aviator and before she can form a coherent word she feels Jake's lips on hers.
@djs8891
@darksparklesficrecs
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cressthebest · 3 days
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Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 22
chapter 38:
1. “"Right, so, your stylist?" Marlene asks, settling in as they continue to sway. "The one who looks like a fucking goddess? Yeah, so get this, she says we're friends…"”
james and marlene gossip sesh <3333333
2. 😧 MCGONNAGAL??????????
3. wait i think mcgonnagal is good. i’m pretty sure she’s from the phoenix. i’m not sure. i’m hopeful. i’m so hopeful
4. aww huey is kinda sweet. i like that’s he’s reg’s breath of fresh air when it comes to talking to the hallows
5. reg, i understand your anger, but please don’t make one of the only good sponsors feel bad
6. jealous james >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
7. “"I like your tea," James offers. "Maybe I'm biased, but it tastes better than anyone else's. What do you do to it?"
Regulus hums and lightly says, "I spit in it."
Without missing a beat, James replies, "Ah, that explains it."”
😭😭😭😭😭
8. “"Would you—" Regulus chokes on another relentless giggle, gasping a little. "Wait, would you actually drink my tea if I spit in it, James?"
"Love, I would let you spit directly into my mouth," James announces with absolutely no shame in his tone whatsoever.”
😭😭😭😭 james i love you
9. awww i love that barty is the most consistent part of reg’s life. i love barty
10. 😬 riddle is unconvinced in their love story. i- yikes
11. okay, right, mcgonnagal is good. thank god
12. dorcas wants to keep marlene out of the war, but only one of them has had a pov so far, so i’m not hopeful
13. oh shit marlene sounds hot
14. also, to add in, i’m so fucking glad there’s like no homophobia (that we know of) in this world
15. i do NOT want dorlene to be a tragedy in this universe
16. 😟 she gave back the ring. AHHHH
17. oh no. shit shit shit shit shit what did riddle do
18. “Riddle didn't even grant the liberty of leaving bodies behind for them to bury.” 😟😧
(but also, orion and walburga were dicks, so like, i’m not sad, just scared)
chapter 39:
1. aww regulus finally invites james in for tea
2. “On the day he accidentally kills a bee while tending to his flowers, he goes through the five stages of grief in less than an hour, which has nothing to do with the bee and everything to do with Vanity.” STOP! THE VANITY MENTION HURTS TOO MUCH
3. “When Regulus wants more time with him, he adds bagels, which James has now unconsciously been Pavloved into thinking of as his favorite food for that very reason.” STOP THATS SO GAY
4. sirius being dramatic about james and reg liking each other is TOP TIER in this fic, in the most realistic, aggravated, obnoxious, and completely loving way
5. BWAHAHAHHAHA JAMES GETTING A PIGGY BACK RIDE FROM SIRIUS IS GOLD
6. oh shit, (i’m not the best comprehensive reader, but i should have figured this out sooner), but from sirius’ perspective, he has to do the back and forth with remus his whole life. he doesn’t have the knowledge that i do, that a war is coming and they’ll finally get a chance to live together. he thinks he only gets to see remus once a year for two weeks at a time. this- this shit is heartbreaking yall
7. “”I watched him stand to his feet and tip himself into a river of blood in an act so tender that I'll never again be able to look at him with anything less than pure love. Every other member of the Black family, including you, fought and clawed their way home to their family, oftentimes to a family that never truly made them feel loved at all. Regulus? He fought and clawed through that arena, the entire time, for James. He's far more gentle than anyone gives him credit for."”
y’all, i’m crying over this. this is so lovely. effie is right, and i’m crying over how right she is
8. 😒 i know what’s coming. riddles a bitch. a right bitch. he’s gonna announce that previous victors are competing and i’m PISSED
9. so far, all three potters offered reggie food. they’re so hospitable, i love them
10. “He hasn't forgotten what it is to long for James. He still knows what it is to want him so badly that he'd be willing to kneel at the altar of James Potter and beg; he'd drop down on his hands and knees and crawl if that's what it took, if that would prove his devotion. He is the manifestation of longing built up with nowhere to go, and he craves, he yearns, he covets.”
both of them are so down bad
11. omg reg is so horny. his inner monologue is literally only like “”””“rip my clothes off please, read my mind and rip my clothes off”””””
12.AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I KNEW IT WAS COMING! BUT IM SO MAD!!! FUCK RIDDLE
13. effie is a queen. she is a godsend. and i’m so upset right now
14. not effie making them promise not to volunteer, and immediately james and sirius arguing over who’s gonna volunteer for her
15. i’m seething. i’m pissed beyond belief. i’m so angry it’s indescribable. my babies are going back into that arena. honestly, fuck riddle
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Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x22 There's No Place Like Home (Part 1)
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Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.
Word Count: 484
Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (26) (27) (28)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Notes: I knew there was no way I could stick to just one drabble an episode for the CS movie, so I didn't even try. There will be 2 drabbles for 3x21 and 4 for 3x22. They are all written, so the plan is to post one per day until they're all posted.
With Snow White off to secure reinforcements, Killian was left alone with the younger version of Emma’s father.  There was a long moment of somewhat awkward silence, and Killian couldn’t help but wonder what Emma was enduring at the hands of the queen. The anxiety swelled at the thought. She was in danger, and he was wasting time simply sitting before a fire.  He wanted to be off. Now.  He wanted to find her, to save her.
But he was and had always been a strategic thinker, and he knew Lady Snow’s plan was a good one.  He must content himself with remaining in place and waiting.
Nothing, however, said he must waste the intervening time.  Perhaps he could find a way to steer Charming toward his ultimate destiny.
“Are you excited for your nuptials?” Killian asked casually.
The prince shook his head and smiled self-deprecatingly.  “Hm,” he said, “marrying Midas’s daughter.  What’s not to be excited about?”
“I don’t mean to pry, mate,” Killian said carefully, “but you don’t exactly look like someone who’s doing this by choice.”
David was silent for a moment, staring sightlessly into the fire. “I always thought I’d marry for love, and here I’m about to enter into what amounts to a business transaction, a merger of two kingdoms,” he said. “I don’t know. This whole ordeal makes me wonder if there's even such a thing as true love.”
Prince Charming was questioning the very concept of true love?  Things were even more dire than he’d imagined. 
“I once felt as you did mate,” Killian said, “and all it took was meeting the right person, and everything changed.”
“Princess Leia, the one we’re rescuing?”
Warmth filled Killian as he thought of Emma. “Aye. I’d go to the end of the word for her. Or time.”
“And she for you, I take it?”
Would she?  Would she go to such lengths for him?  He knew she had feelings for him, but she’d been running for so long–running from him, running from her family, running from love.  Would she follow him through a time portal?
Killian chuckled “I don’t know.”
Charming looked surprised at that.  “What’s the problem?”
That was far more than a short, fireside conversation, so Killian merely brushed it aside “There are many complications.”
“Family?” Charming asked. “Because my father is making things quite difficult for me.
“Aye, there’s that,” Killian said, suppressing a grin at the irony of the question. “I’m not so sure her parents approve of me.”
“Given the lengths you’ve gone to to save her, they’d be crazy not too.”
Killian did chuckle.  “I hope you remember that.”
Further conversation came to a halt at the sound of someone approaching.  Killian and Charming got to their feet, their swords drawn and pointed to the potential threat.
It looked like further discussion on the topic of their respective love lives would have to wait.
NEXT CHAPTER->
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azucarmorena97 · 2 days
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Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.9)
Pt.8 || Pt.10
Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...
Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.
You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...
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Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3
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Recap: For years, you've heard people say that your first time isn't as special as the movies make it seem. They say it's something to just get done and move on from so you can start having good sex- and maybe that's true for some people, but this? You like this.
- Lisa: Kookie, where are you? I miss you <3
Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You look over at the bathroom door, still closed, though you've heard a flush.
Without another thought, you dart out of the bed, quickly yanking on your clothes, making sure to leave absolutely no trace of yourself behind in that room.
You finally hear the bathroom door open though when you do, the hotel room door is already clicking shut behind you.
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You sit in front of your computer, brows furrowed in concentration as your eyes dart from one tab to the next, typing furiously. Since you've been back home, you've been working non-stop, getting everything ready for your transition from your parents' business to Jeon Company. Beside the tedious tasks to be completed before going back to Seoul, you've made it a point not to think too much about your return.
"Don't you think you should at least respond to his messages?" B/f/n says one night on facetime. "I've been responding to mine and his mother's messages, he knows I'm fine, there's nothing to talk about." "Y/n, he walks around here like a lost puppy. He tries to hide it but it's so obvious." "Tell Lisa where her dog is then." "Y/n, maybe it was a misunderstanding." "Honestly, I don't really care anymore. I've made my peace with the idea that he might end up being my husband but he will never...never be mine," The sting is present but you ignore it. "There's no way you've made any sort of peace with...any of this. What you guys did was kind of a big deal." "It...was what it was. It was gonna happen anyway, and now I'm glad we didn't wait until the wedding night so we wouldn't kid ourselves into thinking it's some sacred act." "But it was." "I've uh, gotta go," You say, having received a notification of an incoming call on your apple watch. B/f/n sighs, "Alright...talk later." "Yeah." Without another word, you hang up the call.
It's not that you mean to be mean. You can feel yourself being short with your parents, with B/f/n, but you can't bring yourself to continue answering their questions. How are you? Why haven'y you called? Did something happen between you and Jungkook? What happened? It's humiliating enough to know he fucked you without any real plans to ever get rid of his ex-girlfriend- you don't need to be telling the whole world about it. The only reason you even told B/f/n about it was because she was the one who drove you to the airport. She could immediately tell something was off and you couldn't hold it in for any longer and began crying and carrying on. You've never been one for dramatics and tears...but this one stung. No, worse... This one might have finally broken your spirit.
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"I could oversee the Australia branch on this one if you want. I'm much more familiar with the market over there -" You're trying to focus on the presentation being given by a member of the marketing department, though your mind keeps teetering back and forth between the information and your personal life. Suddenly, you see a txt message notification pop up at the corner of your laptop screen. Jungkook. Your heart skips a beat, though you quickly dismiss it and turn your attention back to the front of the room, but it doesn't stop- another message, another message, another- soon you have 5 messages from him. You bite your lip, feeling anxious to know what he's saying but not wanting to give in. "Uhm, you'll have to excuse me for just a moment," You say, shooting out of your chair and abruptly walking out of the room, leaving everyone staring at you from the other side of the big glass wall as you walk down the hall.
You take your phone out and unlock it, quickly opening up to his messages.
𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗬/𝗻 𝗜 𝗿𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗜𝗱𝗸 𝘆 𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗿𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗰𝗻 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸? 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗳 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻, 𝗜 𝗿𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝘁𝗶 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗜𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝘆𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸: 𝗣𝗹𝘇 𝗬/𝗻
"What the fuck..." You mumble, furrowing your brows. Is he having a stroke or something? You slap your hand to your forehead and press the call button on his contact. You swore you wouldn't talk to him at all while you were back at home, yet here you are, calling him. It rings only twice and then you can hear rustling on the other side, along with loud music.
"J-Jungkook?" You say into the phone, suddenly unsure if he meant to answer it, as it takes him quite a few seconds to say anything. "Y/n? Y/n- can you hear me?" He says loudly into the phone, his tone surprised and desperate. "Yes...I can hear you."
"Y/n, why haven't you been answering me?" "Because...I needed some space." "Space? After what we did?" It isn't until now that you notice his speech is a bit slurred. "Yeah, I needed space...hey, are you drunk?" "Are you still gonna marry me?" "Answer the question, Y/n." "You first," You narrow your eyes at the wall as though he were standing right in front of you. "Alright, fine. I may have had a few beverages. But it's your fault." "Please, tell me how this is my fault?" "Because you left me. You used me and then left me." You let out a bitter laugh, "Right, I used you." "So are you gonna marry me or what?" He repeats.
"I'm hanging up." "The phone or the relationship?" "You're not even making sense, Jungkook," You know perfectly well what he means, but you don't want to have this conversation with him, knowing how absolutely inebriated he sounds. "You don't make sense," He sounds much like a child. "Good bye." You don't let him get in another word before you hang up the phone.
You don't immediately return to the meeting, deciding you need a moment to gather yourself. As angry as you are, hearing his voice was oddly comforting. You hate that.
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It's the last day of your time back home and you've packed up a lot of your things that you'll be sending to Seoul. The departure is bitter... there is no more sweet left in you to give you hope for your arrival at your new home. You don't know how you're gonna do it... your mom tried to talk you into having a bridal shower but you managed to wiggle out of it, though not without compromise. "What time is the fitting on Wednesday?" You ask your mom. "1PM. I arranged for everyone to meet fifteen minutes early though," She says excitedly. By everyone, she means herself, Mrs.Jeon, and all of your bridesmaids...including Lisa. For two to three hours, you'd be forced to play nice with the person at the center of your current rage- well, one of the people at the center. You'd be marrying the other one after. Though you suppose two to three hours is better than an entire night for a bridal shower.
"Make sure you sleep on the plane, the Jeon's invited us to dinner when you get back." "Great." "Don't start, Y/n. After Friday afternoon, they'll be family. You need to start playing smart." "I'm not playing a game to begin with," You say wearily. "Now, I don't know what happened between you and Jungkook-" You prepare to argue with her and tell her to mind her business, but she cuts you off, "-BUT- you need to put it aside and make amends. You cannot start this marriage on a bad foot." "Alright..." You concede. Pointless in protesting when you're gonna go through with it anyway.
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The plane ride is long, though you spend about two thirds of it sleeping and the last bit, writing a portion of a project proposal you'd be sending your dad on behalf of the marketing team. If you just keep your head down and your mind busy, maybe you'll be able to float through the next few days without a hitch.
When you land, it's only B/f/n and Namjoon who are there to receive you. Typical. Though you'd been quite dry with B/f/n since during your time away, she is like a breath of fresh air and a sight for sore eyes and you can't help the big smile that spreads across your face when you see her. Of course, never one to hold a grudge, she embraces you tightly. "Wow, three weeks away and you'd swear Y/n was coming back from war," Namjoon jokes. B/f/n doesn't let go of you, just lazily hits him on his arm and continues hugging you. "Listen to me; you are going to be strong this week, okay? Don't think about anyone but yourself. I'll be right next to you the entire step of the way." Her words bring tears to your eyes and all you can do is struggle to nod, as she is holding you quite tightly.
When you get back to the hotel room, you drop everything and leap into bed, your heart content to just lay there... "Don't get too comfortable. Dinner's in...an hour and a half," She reminds you. You groan, face down into the mattress. You lazily roll over and stare up at the ceiling, "Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll be reincarnated as a bed bug." "You are such a weirdo." "I'm serious...and all I'll have to do is live in people's mattresses and feast and poop...if I'm lucky, some weary traveler will transport me somewhere great, and that's how i'll live my life." "Just my luck, I'll end up being the traveler," She grumbles, causing you to laugh. "That's right, you'll never be rid of me."
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You practically drag your feet behind your parents and B/f/n. No part of you wants even to exist in the same vicinity as Jungkook right now, let alone eat dinner with him and his family. "You better fix your face," Your mom says over he shoulder, and though you're not able to fully see it, you know she's saying it through gritted teeth. "Ah, welcome back!" You hear Mr.Jeon's voice come from the direction just ahead, though your parents are completely blocking your view. You immediately 'fix your face', as your mom so lovingly put it, and stepped out from behind your dad to give the most fake smile of your life- though once the entire table is in view, you realize it's only his parents. No Jungkook in sight...and for some reason, your heart falls just a little bit, though you're sure your face doesn't give you away. "H-Hello, how are you both?" You give a small bow. "Oh, we're good. How was your trip? Did you get a lot done?" Mrs.Jeon asks, her smile warm and inviting. "Yes, I did. Thanks for asking." You glance at the empty chair and it seems as though she notices because then she says, "You'll have to excuse Jungkook tonight. He's at the office preparing for a presentation for Wednesday." "Oh, yes of course," You reach for your glass of water and look at B/f/n, who gives you a small smile. At least it'll be a calm dinner...
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Dinner was a breeze, the conversation flowing between your parents effortlessly; you mostly sat with your eyes on your plate, your spoon pushing around the little rice you had left. You couldn't help but let your mind wander to Jungkook...
"Earth. To. Y/n," B/f/n calls in a robotic voice, waving her hand in front of your face. "Mm?" "You okay?" She asks, putting her hair up in front of the bathroom mirror. "Oh, yeah. Sorry...I guess I spaced out." "Mhm...was it in Jungkook land again?" "What? Of course not," You try to lie but you know she ain't buying it. "Don't you think it's high time you guys talk? It's been weeks." "If I don't see that boy until the wedding day, I'll be perfectly fine." "Don't let the universe hear you," She warns, rubbing her face cream between her fingers. "Fuck the universe," You say arrogantly before turning around and leaving the bathroom.
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The next morning, your alarm goes off at around 6:30, eliciting a groan from you. You grab the pillow next to you and smash it against your face, not wanting to face the day. "It's tiiiiiiiiiiime," B/f/n sings at the highest possible pitch, mimicking Mariah Carrey's 'All I Want For Christmas'. "Shut up," You whine. She's usually not a morning person but as soon as your mom told her she was in charge of getting your hair and makeup done for the fitting, she insisted that you set an early alarm. Apparently, getting ready at 11AM for your 1PM fitting wasn't enough time because, as she so lovingly put it, she's "not a miracle worker".
"I don't even get why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. It's just a fitting- why do we need hair and makeup?" "You are probably the most annoying bride I've ever worked on," She rolls her eyes, patting the beauty blender lightly on your skin. "I'm the only bride you've ever worked on." "And you're already souring my experience. This is the first time you're trying on your dress- it needs to be a memorable and impactful experience." "Fine..." You cross your arms over your chest and roll your eyes, deciding it's better to give in than to keep fighting it. All you want to do is stay in bed and sulk.
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The only good to come out of the fitting today is the fact that you'll be seeing all your college friends; Han Soo-Hee, Shin Se-Kyung, Jisoo, and Jung Chae-yeon. You'd not seen them in a couple years and it'll be nice to catch up. Of course, the only downside-
"Lisa!" Mrs.Jeon says cheerfully, walking ahead of you, B/f/n, and your mom into the bridal shop. Your heart starts pounding and you can feel your blood boiling instantly. "Breathe," B/f/n whispers to you. "Mrs.Jeon!" Her voice is sickeningly sweet and you can tell by the hug she gives her that she's intent on laying it on thick. "I'm so happy you accepted to be a bridesmaid on such short notice," Mrs.Jeon turns to the side and extends her hand to motion to you, "This is Y/n." "Y/n, it's so nice to formally meet you," Lisa says with a low bow. "Same to you." You're such a liar. "I'm so excited to see you in your dress- I'm sure you'll make a beautiful bride." Her comment takes you by surprise and it takes you a moment to respond. "Th-thank you," You blush. "Of course- I'm sorry, how rude of me. What's your name?" B/f/n gives a polite smile, though you knew her enough to know that it was totally fake, "I'm B/f/n. Maid of honor." "Oh that's so sweet- You're so lucky. I won't ever be able to be a maid of honor unless my best friend finally gets married. You may have met her. Rose?"
Your mind flashes back to Rose's burning rage that day when she pulled up on Jin while you were out to dinner with Jungkook. "That sounds vaguely familiar."
"Yeah, well anyway- probably never gonna happen. Her boyfriend's a raging asshole. Anyway, are we expecting anyone else?" Lisa asks.
This whole thing feels strange. She seems way different from the impression she gave that day in the bathroom at Kook's party. You expected to be met with a sour attitude and cattiness, but she seems quite...bubbly.
"Yeah, our four other bridesmaids should be here shortly," B/f/n says, checking her watch.
Not a second goes by and the bell on the bridal shop door chimes, announcing the arrival of the rest of your court. "WHERE'S THE BRIDE!?" Se-Kyung exclaims, throwing her hands up in celebration.
"MY GIRLS!" You cheer, both you and B/f/n running to hug your guests. Instantly, you feel yourself relax. It doesn't matter how this fitting goes, you finally have your people around you.
After a few minutes, you were all lead by a sales associate to a back room with various mirrors and a pretty pink couch, the walls lined with dresses upon dresses. On the furthest wall, facing the couch, is a platform with three mirror, meant for you to be able to look at yourself from all angles...the thought makes you want to gag.
You're going into this fitting basically blind, not having been shown a single stitch of your dress until this moment. The sales lady leaves you in a room with it, hung high up to keep the long train from sagging on the floor. You stare at the grand gown for some time- so long that the sales lady comes back and knocks on the door, "You okay in there?" "Just-just a moment," You say, scrambling to get your clothes off and slip into the dress, holding it up at the bodice so as not to expose your boobs before they've laced you in.
You don't dare look in the dressing room mirror- seeing yourself might just make it too real and right now, you're trying desperately to convince yourself that this is all one big dream that you're gonna wake up from. Once the dress is secured, you pick the heavy skirt up and walk out to your court, each lady waiting for you with a glass of champagne in hand. A series of claps and cheers erupt and you feel your face burn. You stand with your back to the mirror, facing everyone. Your moms eyes are welling with tears, Mrs.Jeon has her hands covering her mouth, B/f/n and all of your bridesmaid's are fawning over you. "You look absolutely gorgeous," Mrs.Jeon says. "Doesn't she? God, Jungkook won't be able to keep his eyes off you," Se-Kyung smiles ear to ear. "Or his hands!" B/f/n adds, causing you to blush even harder. Even your mom and Mrs.Jeon can't hold back a laugh at her most inappropriate comment.
"So, what do you think?" Chae-Yeon asks. "About what?" You ask. "About the dress, you goof." "Oh- it's fine," You say, looking down and smoothing out the bottom. "Just fine? Did you even look in the mirror?" B/f/n asks. You respond with a long period of silence, pursing your lips. "Turn your ass around and look in that mirror," Jisoo reprimands you. "I did!" "Liar!" "Ugh, fine." You cross your arms tightly over your chest, shut your eyes tight and turn around. You brace yourself for a few seconds before finally, slowly opening your eyes.
You'd heard about this before- this moment. The moment where you see yourself for the first time in the dress. In everyone's stories, it's the second or the third dress, maybe even the tenth- but the moment will always come where you see yourself in that dress and simultaneously, see your future unfolding in your reflection. Suddenly, your eyes begin to well too. You can no longer pretend; this is real. Mom was right, you think, the hair and makeup did make a difference.
"It's the dress," Your mom says softly, pride in her voice. Everyone erupts in cheers again, though you hardly pay it any mind- your mind is completely and totally fixed on this feeling in your chest...
You want to see Jungkook.
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B/f/n helps put the dress safely in the trunk for you, leaving you standing there with Lisa, as the other girls had headed off to the restaurant to get your table and your mom and Mrs.Jeon went back to the hotel to start dealing with the preparations of the ballroom. Lisa had been quite warm and welcoming to everyone the entire fitting, and you began to question whether or not you'd imagined her conversation with Rose.
Could it have been that you misunderstood everything? You misread the situation? Did you fuck everything up by jumping to conclusions?
"Uhm- Hey Lisa, we're gonna be going out to dinner once we pull out of here...would you like to join us?" You ask, the words feeling strange as they come out of your mouth.
"Oh, that's so nice of you to ask- unfortunately I really have to go take care of some stuff at home. Rain check?" "Yes, of course. No worries...And hey, listen. Thanks again for agreeing to be part of my court." "Of course, it's not a problem at all," She opens her arms to you, a warm expression on her face as she goes in for a hug. You gladly return the gesture, though once she's pulled you in, she brings her lips really close to your ear, "Anything for Jungkoook."
Venom drips off of her every word, the air thick between you; and suddenly, it all makes sense. The uncharacteristically sweet smiles, the polite bows, the compliments...she's an actress, and this fitting was her stage. In fact, the entire Jeon family is a plot device for her performance. She doesn't want Jungkook...she wants to be adored.
This is why Jungkook doesn't believe me.
Before you're able to respond in any way, Lisa is letting you go, walking in the opposite direction toward her car.
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The rest of the day is a bit of a blur; so much to take in and so little to time. Dinner, drinks at the hotel bar, and now, more drinks at a pub a few blocks away. You decide to put Lisa out of your mind and just enjoy the company of your friends: drinks upon drinks are passed around, laughter and merriment fill the air- before you know it, your insides feel warm and fuzzy and your mind more free and uninhibited. "I'm gonna call him," You say, standing from your chair, a self-righteous expression on your face as you pound your chest once. "That's the best idea you've had all night," B/f/n says. "Call him!" Se-Kyung shouts. "Call him, call him, call him!" They all pound on the table, cheeks cherry red and hair disheveled- you were the sloppiest bunch anyone ever did see.
You take your phone out of your purse and punch in his number- having grown accustomed over the past few weeks at seeing it pop up on your screen, you'd memorized the number by heart. You can faintly hear it ringing but the music in the bar is so loud that you decide to stumble your way out to the parking lot. It continues to ring a few more times before he finally picks up.
"Hello?" Jungkook's voice is groggy, like he'd been sleeping. "Where were you at dinner?" You ask, cutting to the chase. "Y/n it's...it's 1AM. Where are you?" "Fuck you," You slur. "Fuck you too," He returns the same cold tone, though he doesn't hang up. "Fuck you more!" You hang up on him, mouth hanging open in disbelief at how rude he's being. Clearly, you're drunk. You can't hold what drunk people say against them. "Asshat," You grumble, returning to your friends.
About fifteen minutes go by and everyone is absolutely zombified, with B/f/n having tapped out five minutes prior, her head resting on the table. "I'm never drinking again..." Jisoo groans. "It'll be at least...twelve hours before I can stomach another drink," Se-Kyung adds. "Y/n," A familiar voice says behind you. You turn around and realize it's Namjoon. "'Joon?" You ask incredulously, "How'd you know we were here?" He chuckles, "It's my job to know. Remember?" He walks around to B/f/n and sweeps her hair out of her face. She's sound asleep. "I'm here to take you all home." "I could've gotten a car, you didn't have to do that-" "Jungkook sent me." You blink in surprise. Jungkook? "You're kinda hot," Chae-Yeon says, staring dreamily at him. "Thanks but I'm seeing someone," He says politely, gently scooping B/f/n up into his arms. "Everyone ready?"
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Thursday goes by quickly, with everyone scrambling to get everything ready for the wedding. Your mothers decided to hold the wedding at the other hotel location about thirty minutes away for a nice change of scenery. Decorations are being brought in, tables and chairs set up, tapestries are brought in and hung up all over the hall ceiling. It's all coming together quickly- a circus of workers directed by yours and Jungkook's mothers. You avoid thinking about the previous night's shenanigans, cringing at yourself for having sunk so low as to drunk dial him.
But you also can't stop thinking about the absolute lack of consideration- sending Namjoon instead of just getting you all himself? What a prick...not that you wanted to see him, but it's about common decency. Don't get someone else to do your job. Even if it is technically what Namjoon gets paid to do...
"Stop talking so much, I'm getting a headache," B/f/n says sarcastically, gently nudging you. You're snapped out of your thoughts, cheeks blushing slightly, "Sorry. Just out of it today." "I can see..." You both watch as flowers are placed inside of the tall vases at the center of each table. "Am I making a mistake?" You ask, not looking over at her. She doesn't respond for a few seconds and you begin to wonder if she even heard you. "Do you love him?" She asks. Your cheeks get hotter and hotter, embarrassed by her question. "Love? I- I barely know him..." You nervously twiddle your thumbs. It's true, you barely know him...but you can't help the way your heart flutters at the word: love. You'd never been in love before...but if you're being completely honest with yourself, you can't deny that this feeling within you is nothing like the crushes you've had in your youth. This is a heavy, sticky feeling- a painful yet exhilarating condition of the heart. Love...how could you dare to speak it out loud? "Only you can answer that," B/f/n says, referring to the initial question, "And once you do, the next question is...now that you've gotten to know him, could you see yourself going back to the way life was without him?" "B/f/n! Can you please help me with this? I can't decide if I want them to out the couple's table on the left or right side!" Mrs.Jeon calls out. "Bridesmaid duty calls," She says to you before jogging over to the far end of the ballroom to give her input.
Her question stays with you, like a heavy boulder on your shoulders. The truth is, you know you can't go back. Not now...not after all of this... You guess you have your answer.
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You toss and turn all night, your dreams plagued with nightmare scenarios of how it might go during the ceremony. One moment, Jungkook is saying 'I do', and then you somehow morph into Lisa before he can kiss you. In another moment, he's completely walking away and running out of the church, holding Lisa by the hand. It feels like the night only lasts as much as the blink of an eye before B/f/n is shaking you awake, her hair disheveled and eyes barely open, "Girl are you okay?" "Wh-what?" "You were like...whimpering in your sleep- and your alarm has been going off for like five minutes." You suddenly become aware of your very loud alarm. "Sorry," You say groggily, reaching over and turning off your alarm, "Just had a rough night." "I can imagine...you're probably feeling really nervous." "Yeah..." You sit up and slouch forward, your eyes locking onto the TV that's already turned on and fixed on the news channel. You mindlessly watch as clips play, one after another- and then you see an image of the Jeons' hotel. It then switches to a reporter who says, "June Company will soon be merging with L/N Co., which will open jobs throughout the country, as well as in Australia, the United States, and Japan."
"Looks like your merger is making headlines," B/f/n says, jaw practically on the floor. Your face is completely frozen and your heart is pounding. You feel as though you may have an enormous panic attack. You obviously know that the Jeons are kind of a big deal, but you didn't realize just how important this was all going to be. "Y/n?" She sees your expression and quickly turns off the television. "Let's just get you ready, yeah? Come on." She helps you out of bed and leads you to the bathroom. You're practically catatonic for the next hour while you brush your teeth and take a quick shower.
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You get your hair and makeup done at the other location, having been put up in a room that connects to the ballroom. Mirrors were brought in to aid in the court's preparation. Every few minutes, you look over at the dress that's hung up on the opposite wall from the collapsable vanity where you're sitting. You don't dare take it out of the garment bag for fear of messing it up. Your mind is still so full of thoughts, all shouting at you for individual attention. It's almost like you're on auto-pilot, the makeup artists asks you to tilt your head or suck in your cheeks, or puff out your lips and you do- though it doesn't register that you've been cooperating so well until those odd moments you look in the mirror and realize your face is almost done.
In fact, you're so out of it that you don't notice Lisa come in. Now, your bridesmaids lovingly picked out coordinated velour tracksuits; yours is black, theirs are pink. They even got one for Lisa, but apparently she didn't need it because her dress is already on and her makeup is already done. Of course, she looks beautiful; her dress fits her absolutely perfectly, the silk fabric laying beautifully on her hips, and the color compliments her skin tone so that she looks like a pretty little porcelain doll...but fuck her. "Hey, Y/n would you mind just coming out to do a run through of the walk?" Your mom asks, popping her head into the suite. You nod, standing up and dusting the setting powder off of yourself, all bridesmaids in tow, though at the last second before entering the ballroom, Lisa says, "I'll meet everyone in a few minutes, I just have to run to the restroom really quickly," to which no one responds of even gives a flying fuck about. Because again, fuck her.
You'd practiced the entrance yesterday with everyone except Jungkook who, of course, was in meetings all day as he had been all week. You're surprised he's even found time to marry you today. Right now, he and his groomsmen are all in another part of the hotel getting ready; you're only practicing with the bridesmaids. You all run through it about three times and then head back to the suite to wrap up getting ready. One by one, all your bridesmaids slip on their dresses and jewelry and head to the next room over to start recording their video diaries for when you put the wedding video together. You're the only one who has yet to put on your dress. You needed the moment to be private; a second to gather your thoughts. You close the door to the suite and then slowly walk over to the garment bag. "This is it..."
You take off your tracksuit and lay it neatly on a nearby chair, leaving yourself in only your pretty, white, lacey bra and delicate silk, white panties with a small bow at the front. B/f/n had insisted you wear them so you could feel beautiful through and through- you initially thought it was an unnecessary detail, though as she is about most things, B/f/n was absolutely right- you do feel beautiful. You gingerly pull down the zipper of the garment bag, revealing the big white gown. Just as beautiful as you remember it from the fitting. You take it off of the hanger and walk over to one of the mirrors leaned against the wall. You step into the gown and pull it up- of course, you'll need help lacing it in but you just want an intimate moment to look at yourself. You press it against your chest and look up at your reflection-
and then the blood drains from your face.
You feel your hands get stiff and ice cold, and you feel that familiar tightness in your chest.
The panic attack that could not come to fruition this morning has now returned with a vengeance, and you are doubled over, sturggling for oxygen.
Cuts. Cuts everywhere. All over the skirt of the dress. Deep, angry slashes. How did I not see them before? How did I miss them? Were they there when I got to the hotel after the fitting? No, it couldn't be- B/f/n put it in the trunk and then hung it up at our hotel room... when did this happen?
Tears stream down your face as you slump forward in the chair. It's drafty in this suite but you can't bring yourself to put the tracksuit back on, or even to move at all beyond the violent jerking of your shoulders with every sob. "Y/n, Y/n, are you okay!?" B/f/n runs over to you, having just finished her recording, "What happened!?" You can't even speak, you just point to the mound of fabric on the floor that once was your dress...that once was the dress. She picks it up off the ground and holds it up, her mouth immediately falling open in disbelief. She's just as confused as you are. "What- how even- This dress was in perfect condition when I brought it here. I checked," She says angrily, trying to rack her brain just like you had only moments ago. Your crying intensifies, a strong feeling of defeat washing over you.
"Oh, Y/n," Her face softens and she hugs you tightly. "I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do. That was the dress. That was the last shred of hope I had for this God-forsaken marriage. Now what? I have no dress, I haven't seen Jungkook once since I've been back. I have nothing left in me to give..." She lets you cry into her chest for a moment before pulling away, "Okay, we have a little less than an hour before the ceremony. Let me see what we can do." She runs out of the room and then you're alone again. Completely and utterly alone...
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About fifteen minutes go by and not a single person has entered the suite. You assume they're all trying to figure out what happened and how to help. Your cries have quieted down a bit but still have not ceased. You feel broken and you're tired of fighting it.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
You're snapped out of your thoughts, head lifting up and looking toward the door, "Come in," You say, your wavering voice just loud enough to be heard from the other side. The door opens slowly, and you expect to see B/f/n or maybe your mom, but instead, Jungkook walks in, his expression soft and solemn as he closes the door behind him.
"Hey, Y/n."
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A/N: Hope you all liked it! Plz comment and DM for suggestions on what you'd like to see happen next in the story; you might inspire me <3
Also, I am so honored that ppl would want me to tag them in the next part. To know anyone likes this series enough to keep up with it is so heartwarming. So, with that being said:
@ttanniett <3
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designernishiki · 1 year
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seriously yakuza 3 should’ve ended almost exactly the same way it did except when it’s shown that kiryu’s back in okinawa at the end majima should’ve been there too. that’s it. that’s all they needed to do
#the man was basically BEGGING for kiryu to take him with him that whole game he is So tired of getting left behind gahagagdhhdhshh#that’s ALL oh my god it would’ve been so EASY#it’s so frustrating I know I’ve said it a billion times but let that man be happy for the love of god#even if it’s vague. or even if it’s for a little while. it would’ve been better than abandoning him and shrugging off his willingness to do#Anything for kiryu ghagagahhahhshsgshdhdhh#bangs my head against a desk#kazumaji#rambling#I think it’s partly particularly frustrating because y3 was the strongest game for kazumaji shit and then they just sorta left it hanging#like none of the shit between them in the game never happened#like fuck dude. you don’t even need to think about it Gayly to see that at the very least had a whole arc and multiple scenes overall#dedicated to Kiryu Can Trust Majima In Any Circumstance. Majima Would Do Anything For Him#like that’s. what the whole of chapter 8 was about.#so then turning around and acting like kiryu just doesn’t care at all about any of that#well obviously it makes him look like a selfish prick but also it just doesn’t align with how he was the rest of the game generally#they also fucked over rikiya like I was 100% expecting some little tribute to him at the end back in Okinawa but there was Nothing#so that too but#yeah#xxgdhdjdjdjdjfgmg im mad because this is one of my favorite games in the franchise so I can’t just outright say It’s Bad or something like#I can with. say. 1/kiwami 1
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suffarustuffaru · 9 months
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arc 8 otto gets more and more deranged with every appearance i love it 😭😭😭😭 this chapter was a mainly otto centric one which was fascinating!!! URGH i have many thoughts :((( the whole chapter being about “walking with light”….. where otto acknowledges that:
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and this is AFTER julius apologizes to otto and otto emphasizes to julius’s face that. yeah. julius is still an enemy. like yeah theyre exchanging more pleasant words now but otto specifically emphasizes that otto isnt a knight. julius isnt a merchant. julius is in another camp. theyre opposites T^T AND THEN roswaal telling otto that opposing emilia and subarus way of thinking is a poison that Will kill him. BUT THEN OTTO says
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he cant walk with light meaning he cant see reality and still choose to be idealistic and noble like julius and emilia and subaru even though hes still trying to support emilia and subaru. :,,,))) and he admits that!!! hes still choosing to walk a darker path than them even knowing hes not as strong as others!!! even knowing that emilia and subaru will never agree with him and vice versa!!! hes walking alone, in a way T^T
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milf-harrington · 1 year
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did you guys know im writing a book? cause it is...not even close to finished <3
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velkyr · 1 year
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it is 4am and I very much do not wish to be awake contemplating the state of my life but. alas
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holytrickster · 11 months
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also i finally finished the silm earlier and oh my god i understood narn i chin hurin so much better this time. like i know the whole thing isn't included but the fact the main parts are mentioned *after* i knew who the heck everyone in it was and where everything was happening made it so much more understandable now than when i first read it back when i was like 14 bc i went like hobbit -> lotr -> children of hurin with a lot of time in between where i forgot stuff
#bc i remember the first time i read it i was so lost like “where the fuck is doriath and dor lomin and all these places who are these..#..people. why wont turin come back. why does this man have to change his name every five seconds. whos morgoth?“ and so on#like i especially remember going “why is anglachel/gurthang like...evil. yeah you said this guy who made em is 'the dark elf' but what does#..“does that actually mean? he could just be goth i dont fucking know why we don't like him” and reading it now i was like Oh. Haha. Fuck.#i think its funny the main thing i remembered was being like “damn i love beleg and mablung”. past aimenel knew what was up#unrelated the hunting of the wolf was metal as fuck?????#i say that like it doesn't apply to so much in the silm but like. bro#i thought the whole “of beren and luthien” chapter was gonna be kinda boring bc i knew about most of the main stuff that happens already but#i was actually getting back into it all as i was reading#its weird i thought the audiobook would help but i think it was too slow#bc i had like ~8 hours left but reading it myself it took nowhere near that#i like hearing how people read for different characters and stuff and also i like knowing how things are pronounced bc even with the..#basic pronunciation thing in the back i still definitely fumble some names when i read them in my head lol. thinking about how many..#...different ways ive heard Eärendil for instance#or like not knowing for YEARS that dh is th.#dont get me started on how fucked up i probably read anything thats in there in adunaic#butchering every name in the akallabeth speedrun any%
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akanemnon · 10 months
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TWIN RUNES MASTERPOST
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 -15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 21-1 - 21-2 - 21-3 - 22 - 23 -24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 36-1 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40 - 41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48 - 49 - 50 - 51 - 52 - 53 - 54 - 55 - 56 - 57
To be continued...
TWIN RUNES MINI COMICS
Glasses - Fallen down - First steps - Press [C] - Frisk Dance - But nobody came - Whatstheirface - An acquired taste - Eye opening - Smalltalk
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TWIN RUNES - FAQ
What exactly is this AU about? Twin Runes is essentially a comedic crossover AU between the universes of Deltarune and Undertale. No fancy nicnacs. Just the characters being their chaotic selves. But there might be some darkness lurking up ahead...
When is the next comic? The comic updates most Sundays at 6:30 PM Central European Time.
Why is this AU called Twin Runes? The name is more or less a play on the typical naming format of most AU's by featuring the "Runes" part. There are no literal Twin Runes. The whole name is more of a stand in for Undertale and Deltarune as parallel worlds. Hence the "Twin" part.
When does Twin Runes take place? This AU takes place between a hypothetical Chapter 3 and Chapter 4 of Deltarune. On the Undertale side of things, it takes place post neutral route just as Frisk was about to deliver Undyne's letter to Alphys.
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Is the player a thing in this AU? The player lost control over both human children as soon as Frisk entered the world of Deltarune.
When Chapter 3 and 4 are released, will it affect the story? Any chapters after Chapter 3 won't affect the story in the grand scheme of things. If possible, I might make a reference to Chapter 3, but all in all Twin Runes created a new timeline so to speak.
What's up with Kris' and Frisk's hair? The red bits of their hair is more or less a representation of their souls. That in turn is also why Chara doesn't have that feature. They are soulless. It's a stylistic choice.
What's that thing on Kris' chest? It's a scar they got from tearing out their soul.
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And why do they have weird lines all over their body? Both Kris and Frisk's anatomy resemble that of ball-jointed dolls. They appear just as markings across their bodies. Think of them as elaborate birthmarks. Kris and Frisk are still made of flesh and blood, but are in fact hypermobile. The reason as to why they do is still a little secret :) People here like to refer to these markings as "puppet limbs". You can get a better look at them and the scar in this artwork
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Why does Kris have braces? This is why:
Why is Dark World Frisk green? Frisk changes their main sweater colors with Kris when they enter the Dark World.
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Can other ghosts see Chara? (pre Darkner transformation) No, only Frisk and Kris are able to see Chara.
IS KRIS NOW FRISK'S COUNTERPART OR CHARA'S???? :)
So, was Chara in the locket all along? No, Chara possessed the locket to become a Darkner.
Where are Jevil and Spamton? Are they in Castle Town? The Fun Gang have already fought these two in the previous chapters and added them into their inventory. Outside of that little dream sequence, neither will be making an appearance.
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Is anyone from Undertale Yellow gonna make an apperance? Outside of a tiny cameo from Clover (that has no greater bearing on the story) no one from Undertale Yellow is going to make an appearance.
Is (insert character here) gonna go to the Dark World/underground? With the way the story is going to play out, only the main group will be heading to this new Dark World. The rest of the story will be taking place there.
Is the Group Project miniseries canon to Twin Runes? It was made before Twin Runes was conceived and before I had any idea I would make a series. It is it's own self-contained story. So it is NOT canon to Twin Runes, but You can read it here: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6
How did you come up with the idea of Twin Runes? Twin Runes is an offshoot of a separate script I wrote. It's a similar concept but turned on its head. The funny moments in that script made me just continue what now is the start of Twin Runes. I pretty much just wanted to see if I am actually capable of drawing a comic to begin with. So... in a way Twin Runes is my first attempt at a comic ever. If I ever finish Twin Runes, then I know I can tackle turning that mammoth project of a script into a comic too. In the grand scheme of things these two projects are sister series. They have A LOT in common and even share similar plot elements. When Twin Runes is over you will automatically also know certain mysteries of The Other Script.
What is The Other Script? As of this moment I call The Other Script: "Lost in the In-Between". At its core it's an inverse of Twin Runes. I.e. Kris falling into the underground and being aided by Frisk on their quest to return home. The story and jokes are a considerably more grounded than in Twin Runes and so are the characters. Though they do have their moments from time to time. The overall mood of that script is a lot darker in nature and it's a 200+ page passion project of mine.
Am I allowed to make fanart? ABSOLUTELY! You are very welcome to make fanart if you feel like it. Please let me know if you do by tagging me, so I can share it with everyone to see so that you get the appreciation you deserve :)
Can I use the funny faces you draw for memes or for private stuff with friends? That's what they're here for :)
Is there x ship in this comic? The focus of the story is not on shipping. If it's in the game it will very likely be mentioned or brought up, but that's about it.
What pronouns do you go with for the human children? I try to stick as close as possible to the games so I use THEY/THEM FOR ALL OF THEM WITHOUT ANY EXCEPTIONS.
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ABOUT ASKS
Asks will open for 24 hours after a new comic has been released. Your questions will then be answered over the course of the week.
Try not to submit multiple asks. If necessary, just keep everything in one post.
Keep in mind that I receive AL LOT of asks, so not every question can be answered...
Questions containing spoilers will not be answered on principle. Wouldn't be as fun if the surprise was ruined, right?
Before leaving an ask (mostly for everyone who's new), please make sure to read the FAQ section above. A lot of times your question might have been answered already :>
I love memes and dumb jokes as much as the next guy, but try not to spam
It probably goes without saying, but please stay civil. I want to give everyone the respect they deserve, and naturally like to be treated the same way.
Please be mindful about drawing requests. It is understandable if you're eager to see a certain character drawn in my style, but I do not like to be bombarded by requests. The more it happens, the less likely I am to do it. Be kind and ask nicely.
Don't use other people's posts that I reblogged to ask me questions! It has happened before and I do not wish to see this!
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REFERENCE SHEETS
The following are ref sheets of characters that don't have established Dark World forms yet (as of writing this comic). The list will be updated as soon as a new character enters the Dark World. Here you will also find references of characters that might appear as surprise cameos, or maybe even completely new faces...
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FULL ART
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It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 6 ] || [ Chapter 8 ]
Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. oral (m!receiving). sex (protected). Unspecified age gap. John is a little selfish. Also: the boys aren't very happy. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: tried my best to keep the smut as gender neutral as possible!
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Chapter 7: Getting Laid!!
Last night, you and John stumbled in the door of your flat with your lips pressed together.
You swore that was something only happened in romcoms, when the main character and her rival/best-friend/ex/a stranger met at the bar, got drunk, and somehow stumbled in the door and did it right on the kitchen table or whatever.
Nope.
Nope. It happened.
He had his arms wrapped around your torso, one snugly around your hip/lower waist, the other running up over your spine, with his hand sinking into your hair.
He tossed his foot back, knocking the door closed with a donkey kick as your hands struggled to untuck his stupid maroon button-up.
Instead of fumbling with the buttons, he ripped it off himself, a few of the buttons popping off and being sent flying around the room. He shrugged it off himself before guiding you over the living room sofa.
The flat was a mess, you had tried to tell him, because you weren’t expecting to bring him (or anyone, ever) back here. But that wasn’t a concern at that moment.
John fell on top of you on the couch, his hands already ripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere it wouldn’t get in the way (you’d come to find it behind your flatscreen tv).
His fingers kneaded and caressed your torso, squeezing at your waist as his mouth slide away from yours, over your jaw, and down to your neck, biting down onto it and sucking at the skin like it was his to mark.
Your hands found the back of his white crewneck and you pulled it off, momentarily getting him tangled in it, before you tossed it on the floor. 
You barely had a moment to feast your eyes on the sight of his bare torso before he was slipping your boots off and then dragging your jeans off your legs… Like a rabid animal, primal and hungry. 
You caught glimpses of his figure as he raised your leg and peppered kisses from your ankle, wet tongue jotting out to lick up your thigh toward your underwear.
He’s strong but soft, the owner of large pecks and a warm belly, both covered in thick, dark, coarse hair, that disappear in a happy trail under his jeans.
You pull his face toward yours, locking your lips into a deep kiss again, your tongues finding each other as he holds himself up over you. Pulling away from the kiss, you looked at him. “Flip over…” You whispered.
He didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing you around the waist again and hurling you up as he shifted to sit down on the couch, thighs spread to accommodate the growing bulge in his jeans.
You knelt between his legs, nimble fingers undoing his belt and immediately tugging the dark fabric away from his thick thighs. He groaned in relief as he watched you struggle with his boots for a moment before you succeeded in getting it all off him.
His hand palmed at his hardened cock, eyelids droopy as your hands ran up his legs, feeling the hair in them, and sometimes catching the little bumps and scars of past injuries, some of them discreet, some of them obvious and particularly gnarly. Some of them could rival some of his Simon’s.
You tugged down his boxers briefs, allowing his cock to spring free. It’s uncut, long and decently thick, and his hair is neatly trimmed. The head peeks out just a bit, showing how red and angry it is, the whole length throbbing, needy for your touch.
Your eyes locked onto his, spotting that it wasn’t just his cock that was needy. He looked at you like a starved man about to have a meal. Barely restrained, his jaw clenched, fists tightened shut, the muscles on his thighs taut with anticipation.
You ran your tongue over your palm before wrapping it around his cock, hearing him hiss and throw his head back as you started stroking it. Your other hand slowly, carefully, pulled back the hood of his cock before you wrapped your lips and tongue around it, gingerly sliding it further into your mouth.
You could’ve sworn John was going to have an aneurysm. “Fuckin’ hell… That’s it…” He grunted and huffed consecutively as he tensed up a bit, bucking his hips upward to meet your mouth.
“F-Fuck… That’s it…” He grumbled under his breath as he looked down at you. John had been with plenty of people, but something about the way you looked on your knees with his cock steadily slipping down your throat, got him in a way no one else did.
“Jesus… Fuckin’... Christ…” He dipped his head back as your tongue drew circles around him before you swallowed him deeper, breathing steadily through your nose so as to not choke.
“God… Been… B-Been a while since I got… Christ-” He grunted again, one hand shooting up to grip the back of your neck as he slowly rocked his cock into your mouth, beads of precum drooling over your tongue.
“C’mere.” He demanded as he pulled you back from his cock and up to your feet. He grabbed hold of his jeans from the floor, in search of his wallet and pulled out a whole sheet of condoms which was folded neatly inside, He stuck them between his lips before he stood.
Grabbing hold of you, he walked you across your flat, making use of the sitting room lights to navigate the hall into the bedroom, and dropped you onto your bed. He tossed the condoms aside and his lips crashed into yours, lips parted so that your tongues found each other.
His hands grabbed hold of your underwear and tugged it off, sending it flying across the room while he grabbed hold of the condoms and ripped off one, rough fingers search struggling to open the foil, before he finally succeeded and slipped it on.
“You good?” He checked on you, eyes locked on yours as he slotted himself between your legs, kneeling in front of you and adjusting you to fit him. One leg wrapped around his waist, the other over the bend of his elbow to keep you spread open for him.
“Yeah.” You replied, immediately feeling him rub the leaking head of his cock against your entrance, allowing the lube of the condom to lubricate you just a bit.
It had been ages since you had last gotten laid, a miserable consequence of your ex-boyfriend, Ethan, and one of the main reasons you had broken up. Sex with him, much like your relationship, was dead and unfulfilling.
You felt John push his way inside, slotting himself in the warmth and snugness of your body as you squealed, your head falling back onto the bed. He grunted some incoherent praise, or what you assume was praise, his fingers digging into the extra fat on your legs to keep him steady enough.
He leaned over you, one closed fist on either side of your head, curling you onto yourself and allowing him easier access to thrust into you. Slow, torturously slowly, his cock stretching you and forcing you to accomodate him.
“Fuckin’ hell… So fuckin’ good…” He groaned, eyes closing and mouth falling open as he threw his hips down against yours. It was slow and considerate, but the way he huffed and grunted told you it was already too much for him.
But John was a man of focus. He uncurled his fists in order to grip your bed covers and squeeze them tight as his hips bounced off yours, his weeping girth always burying itself to the hilt before he pulled back again, making sure to bottom out every time.
You whimpered and moaned, eyes screwed closed and a shiver running down your spine every time the bouncy cock plunged into you, the upward tilt of it making sure to drag dangerously slowly across the one spot in your body that caused your mind to go blank, stars prickling in the corners of your eyes.
“F-Fuck… John…” You sighed as he kept the torturously slow pace, somehow driving you crazy just as much as he would while pounding you into oblivion.
“Yeah… that’s it. Moan my name, love.” He ordered as he leaned closer.
“J-John…” You cried out softly as his hips stuttered lightly, causing him to bury himself deep twice in a row.
“I know, darling. I know.” He grumbled. “You haven’t gotten properly shagged in a while, have you?” He taunted a bit. “Haven’t either, sweet thing…” He added.
His hands grabbed your jaw on either side, his thumbs hooked onto your cheeks, the remaining fingers slipping under and around your ears, nails digging lightly into your scalp.
“I’ll make sure to make it last as long as possible, hm?” He added as he kissed at your lips, sucking your bottom lip between his lightly.
-
John was in a much better mood when he sat down for breakfast at the mess hall with Ghost, Gaz and Soap. He actually greeted them with a ‘Good morning’, his tray was piled high with food and his hair was wet from a recent shower.
The other three were looking at him with raised brows and intrigued glances, even if Ghost was trying to be discreet about them. They could read between the lines to know he had gotten lucky with you the night before, so they didn’t need to ask questions they knew the answers to.
Instead, they exchanged glances and kept eating their breakfasts… All except for Simon, who was simply drinkin a cup of breakfast tea.
“I don’t think it’s fair.” Soap ended up saying as Price was halfway through shoveling a hash brown into his mouth.
“What isn’t, Soap?” Price asked, eyes narrowed in confusion, and brows scrunched.
“We all matched ‘em on Tinder and didn’t get more than a ‘I’ll think about meetin’ up with you’.” The younger sergeant explained halfway through chewing his bite of sausage. “You meet with ‘em, get a shag… And we did all the work for it.” He added. “But when it comes to us ourselves, they don’t want us.” He complained.
“What are we gonna do?” Gaz complained. “Maybe they just like older men…” He said with a shrug. “Sucks but there’s other people out there.” He adds while drinking his orange juice.
“Are you seriously going to call dibs on the fact you saw ‘em before Price?” Ghost said in surprise.
“I’m just saying!” Soap grunted and shoveled some more scrambled eggs into his mouth.
“Learn to take rejection with class, MacTavish. It’s going to happen to you more and more often as you get older.” Ghost quipped.
“Awa' an' bile yer heid!” Soap scoffed and flipped the middle finger at Ghost.
Meanwhile, the Captain was giving them all a look, while staying silent, seeming amused by their antics and a little by their jealousy. He could tell that despite the fact Gaz and Ghost had disagreed with Soap, their eyebrows were also furrowed in contemplation.
So, he simply turned off to the side and drank from his own tea with a smug smirk on his lips.
taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago
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messyoungie · 2 months
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SELF CARE DAY FOR LOW ENERGY DAYS
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it’s important to have different routines ready to match your mood and energy level. which is why I believe preparing for self care days for when you’re just not feeling your best is essential and a great way to look out for yourself. here’s my guide to self care days for low energy.
✧ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓
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despite your low energy, it’s important you still get your daily movement. however, exercise doesn’t always have to be intense.
try doing one of these
— 2 minutes of touching/trying to touch your toes
— 5-7 minutes of full body stretching
— 10 minutes of yoga
or maybe just stretch your neck, roll your shoulders, and take a few deep breaths. whatever you’re ready to do :)
links to short low energy workouts:
5 minute morning yoga
11 minute stress relief yoga
10 minute lazy girl workout
8 minute good morning pilates
✧𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃
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do something for your mind. journal, get your thoughts out, meditate, read five pages of an inspiring book. do something that you will love and that your mind will thank you for. whether it’s sitting in silence for a few minutes or playing a game that’ll challenge your brain.
journaling prompts <3
++ what’s been draining your energy recently?
++ what’s been giving you positive energy recently?
++ what’s your focus been on lately?
++ what are three things you’re happy are in your life?
++ how is my environment impacting my energy?
if your energy is low I really recommend writing about it. what’s making you tired? reflect on it and go easy on yourself.
✧𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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the last thing you want to do is give your mind the responsibility of remembering your tasks. i don’t care how little you have on your schedule, write a to do list. on a low energy day, it’s important we’re easy on ourselves. getting everything out of our head and onto a piece of paper will not only make tasks seem more manageable but will also make our minds feel a bit lighter.
write everything. I mean it. even the small and seemingly insignificant tasks. even the parts of your routine that you do everyday anyways, write it all down.
✧𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
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even though we’re a little bit down, that doesn’t mean we can cheat on the promises and boundaries we made with ourselves.
a low energy day doesn’t mean you can jump right back into your old habits. you’ll only feel worse if you do. it can be comforting to spend the whole day in bed, liking relatable TikToks and having a 7 hour screen time. but that’s not real rest. do something that’ll nourish you while also making you feel relaxed and comfortable. whether that’s watching an episode of your comfort show, rereading a chapter of your favorite book, or listening to your all time favorite songs while you just relax.
low energy is not a reason to practice unhealthy bad habits.
✧𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘
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how do we enjoy a low energy self care day besides the usual rest and relaxation? by doing some activities!!
things you can do on a low energy self care day:
++paint
++do your own nails
++movie marathon of your fave genre
++install and try out different cute & cozy games on your device
++bubble bath
++make a Pinterest board or Moodboard that will inspire you to be the best version of yourself
thank you for reading, take care!! ♡
— messyoungie
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little-hermit-crab56 · 6 months
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I've been writing for a while so I thought I'd share some writing tips I've learned along the way.
1. Never sacrifice the flow for a quirky line.
That bit of dialogue or flowery paragraph you really like but it kinda disrupts the flow? Scrap it. I know it hurts, but you need to. If you really want to keep it, find somewhere else to put it where it actually fits in.
2. Dialogue is a dance.
Dialogue should go at the pace of an actual conversation, back and forth with little breaks and pauses. Add as little dialogue tags as possible while still making it clear who is speaking. You can also describe what is happening during a pause in the conversation rather than saying they paused, unless the pause is important.
3. Show don't tell is a guideline, not a rule.
Show don't tell is a very useful guideline, but if you're ALWAYS showing it can get exhausting to read. Skip the boring bits and just tell us what happened, then we can get to the good stuff.
4. If it's boring to write, it's probably boring to read.
If you can cut out a whole scene with little consequence to the story, you probably should. As I said before, you don't always have to show us, you can always tell us.
5. Everything needs to have a purpose.
I know there are probably lots of interesting or cute scenes where your characters are just fucking around, but if it doesn't develop character, relations, conflict, or plot, why should we care? Definitely still write them if they make you happy, but if you're gonna add it to your final draft, make sure it matters.
6. You don't need to explain everything all at once.
I know it feels tempting to put all the lore, and all the character's intentions, and reasonings into the first few chapters, but please refrain, you can reserve that for your character and worldbuilding sheets. Instead, take the time to let us get to know the characters, and the world, in the same way we'd get to know a real person. Make your exposition as seamless and natural as possible. It will take practice to know when to reveal information and when to let us wonder, but you'll get there.
7. Write in a way that comes naturally.
I know you probably have an author you wanna write just like, but that is unlikely to happen. Embrace your natural writing style and perfect it, rather than trying to be something you're not. Writing is an art, you need to find your own style and polish it as best you can.
8. Try to make us feel connected by cutting out certain words like "felt".
"Chad felt like a glass of water." Can be replaced with, "Chad was thirsty, so he reached for a glass of water." Both sentences tell us Chad wants a glass of water, but one makes us feel more connected to Chad than the other. Though both sentences have their time and place, you want to make your audience feel as close to their protagonist as possible. Make them feel like they're there, rather than just an onlooker.
9. We don't need to know every physical detail of your character.
I know you probably spent ages creating the perfect characters and you want to give us the perfect image of what they look like, but it can get monotonous and boring, why do we care that your character has brown eyes unless the colour has some sort of significance? Try to list off only the most notable features of your character and put focus only on the relevant details. Sometimes you can even not describe them at all and throw in little bits of information about their appearance for the audience to put together. We read to imagine, not to have a perfect image painted for us when we could be getting to the plot.
10. You're allowed to be vague.
Allow your audience to assume things, with some things you can just be lazy and let your audience's imagination do the work for you. Of course, don't do this with important things, but you can save so much time you might've spent researching an irrelevant topic when you can just be vague about it. You don't have to know everything you're writing about, so long as you know the bits that matter.
11. Writing is a skill that takes practice.
Don't be so hard on yourself if your writing is a bit cringe, we've all been there. The important part is that you research how to get better and keep writing those super cringe chapters. One day you'll reread something from a while ago and realize you're actually not as bad as you thought.
12. Leave your work to rest.
I know you wanna start editing right away, but once you've finished, leave it for at least a month. The longer you leave it the better, but that depends on your attention span. A month to six months is good if you're really impatient but want a good result. If you keep writing in that time your skills will continue to improve, then you'll be editing that draft with fresh eyes and fresh skills.
And if you're a fanfic author, I usually leave my chapters for a week before editing and posting.
Hope this helps anyone struggling, I thought this might be especially relevant now with nanowrimo.
I recently realized how much knowledge I've been accumulating over the years, I definitely have more but this is all I can think of for now.
I'm no writing guru, but if anyone has anything they're struggling with, I can do my best to help you out, so dont hesitate to ask questions.
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