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#pov you just came out to your dads
fallendoctor · 9 months
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the holy trinity 🙏
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huitandahalf · 2 months
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I know that we got plenty of options as to how everything with the Ender King is going to go down, but a thought that has not left my mind was the idea of the Ender King downing qPhil in some way and taking him away. Which means there would be a chat message for all to see :)
For example :)
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#qsmp#qsmp philza#this could be better or worse depending on how many people qPhil tells about the whole mess (itll probably be 0 tbh)#cause if he tells no one#not even his kids#then it will be a gut punch#like pov you are chayanne and tallulah#you just lost your godfather in Tubbo#you may have just lost someone who really cares for you in Bad#and you gotta hold onto your dad right? if something was wrong he would have told you right? he promised to not keep secrets right?#and now hes gone without a word#was the Ender King that much of a threat that he could take your dad without any hint that it could happen? or were there just signs#that you missed. that you could have seen and stopped. you could have saved your dad but you didnt. why didnt you notice him change?#and to a lesser extent there is also the gut punch to fitmc#pov you are fitmc#phil promised to keep you updated on all the hallucination stuff and hasnt said anything to you about it in a long time#thats a good sign right? itd be bad if the Ender King was real and came to help phil anyway#he had some crying obsidian appear in his inventory? clearly the admins are messing with him it couldnt be anything#and now hes gone#and you find out that he was hiding things from you from his children#there were more messages more hallucinations#why didnt he tell you?#did he not trust you? hes right to do it but you thought he trusted you with this at the very least#and now#what do you do?#you dont even know where to start in looking for him#did he really trust you that little?
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jackleopard · 2 years
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today I’m obsessing over Outdoor Pool by Maisie Peters
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aaagustd · 2 months
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for the night | min yoongi
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title: for the night
pairing: drug lord!min yoongi x waitress!(f)reader
genre/rating: angst, childhood best friends to strangers to friends??, unrequited love, valentine’s day au, smut, romance, 18+
summary: Yoongi lives a dangerous life. So why is he so afraid of you? 
warnings: idk what to say about these two, just a bunch of feelings (spoken & unspoken), light pining, pov switches,  mentions d*ath & grieving,  mentions dr*gs and violence, swearing, bl**d & injuries, p*stol wh*pping/ mild description of t*rture, crooked justice systems (it’s the wild wild west out there), mentions a robbery & a**ault (nothing involving the main story), mentions illnesses & health related topics, alcohol/drinking but no intoxication unless you count staring at yoongi for too long, black hair with the undercut yoongi, chains, rings, TATTOOS…. oh my !!!, yoongi has a gl*ck (a piece, that iron… whatever you wanna call it), everybody’s shipping these two but they’re just…yeah, eye f*cking from both parties, explicit content, the friend version of kiss & makeup??, dry h*mping, Dom!yoongi, yoongi getting head is a warning, protected s*x, gagging/deep throating, throat/face f*cking, hair pulling, crying, i’m sure yoongi has Sir kink hiding in there somewhere, manhandling, face slapping, yoongi’s fingers down your throat, missionary with your leg over yoongi’s shoulder, big d*ck!yoongi, his jewelry stays on bc why would it not?, cl*t stimulation, teasing, spitting, org*sm control, c*m shots, body worship, p*ssy eating, throat grabbing, i think that's all...
wc: 11.6k
release date: february 16, 2024; 10:15pm est
note: sorry i took forever. this is my first oneshot in a while so i apologize for mistakes. i'm just finding my footing in this writing thing again. thanks to @itaeewon for my banner and @cafekitsune who makes these pretty dividers. please follow both of them for cool graphics. anyway, happy late valentine's day. i love you guys.
masterlist | playlist | ao3 version
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“Enjoy the rest of your night… and be safe!”
As you wave goodbye to the last lovely couple dining at your restaurant tonight, you express how thrilled you are of their return. 
You stand in front of your father’s little restaurant and watch the lovebirds bundle up as they make their way to their vehicle, embracing each other and protecting themselves from the same frigid temperatures that threatened to ruin their Valentine’s day plans.
It’s nights like these that make the sacrifice of putting your nursing career on hold well worth it. This neighborhood doesn’t have a lot to offer as far as entertainment goes, so keeping this place in business is your top priority. This is your home, and the people you love put their all into this establishment. 
You’ll make sure it thrives and continues to be a source of comfort to the community.
You’re excited to tell your father about tonight’s turn out. You know he will be pleased. It’s been busy all day with dine-ins and take outs; everyone looking for the perfect date night meal. 
“The food is made with love,” is what your dad always says.
He always looks forward to this time of year, and he’s always talked about seeing you sitting in one of his booths with a special someone of your own some day. 
You only nod when he brings up your dating life; sometimes his love for you blinds him from reality. You’ve never brought anyone home, or ever mentioned being involved with someone to him. Even if you came out and said it, he’d never believe you’re the problem.
A chilly breeze in the mid-February air snaps you out of your thoughts—so as soon as the couple’s sedan departs from the parking lot—you slip back inside. 
The warmth instantly envelopes your trembling figure, and draws a small exhale from your lips.
Looking at your watch, you notice that it’s almost midnight. You switch the sign from open to close, but don’t bother locking the door because there’s one more visitor that should be arriving shortly.
You keep that in mind as you begin to clean the front of the house. 
One by one, your father’s employees complete their duties in a haste, then clock out so they can go home to whoever is waiting for them. Their eagerness only brings a smile to your face.
As you’re sanitizing a table, you catch a glimpse of one of the waitresses dashing towards the door.
“Well, see you tomorrow, Kaci!”
She halts, then turns around to say her goodbyes—and to gossip. 
“Night, boss lady,” she chirps.
Why she calls you “boss lady” is a mystery to you; your dad only left you in charge, but you’re just a manager. You still get on the floor and serve tables like everyone else.
You’re curious about the bit of mischief hidden in her tone. It’s not long before she reveals her true intentions.
“Did he stop by yet?”
And of course…she’s talking about Yoongi.
Usually, someone stops by on his behalf to collect the rent. His family allows your father and a few others to occupy the buildings on this lot for business. Payment is always to be paid in cash, so you make sure you visit the bank the morning of collections. 
Your family has had a close relationship with the Mins for years, so they’ve been working with you while your father recovers.
You met Yoongi right in this restaurant at the young age of four, and from there, your friendship blossomed. You were inseparable throughout grade school, but senior year is when everything shifted.
It had to be the first time you both realized that you were on different paths after graduation. While you prepped for college, he was being introduced to the hustle that built his family’s empire.
If that didn’t tear a rift in your relationship, the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surely did. People used to always say at least one of you would eventually want something different, and you used to always laugh at them…until it became a fact.
You’ve always wondered if he ever felt the same as you did—or if he ever thought about exploring something more.
Unfortunately, you’ll never know what he was feeling. After graduation, he shut you out and never looked back. That was so long ago, though. You’ve grown, and the pain of losing someone you cared about eventually went away.
…So you thought.
Being home again brings back so many memories and forgotten feelings. Things you wish you still had, and things you wish you could have had. After experiencing so much throughout college, and learning more about yourself, you’d kill to go back in time so you can handle things differently. 
You can’t help but think your friendship was torn apart by nothing more than a curious mind and raging hormones.
Yoongi’s so different now, though. However, you still see glimpses of the boy who would sneak into your window just to watch reruns of 90s cartoons with you. You smile just thinking about all the fun times you’ve shared, and all the trouble you got into.
“Look at you getting wet just thinking about him! I knew it. You’re whipped!”
“Can you keep your damn voice down,” you hiss. “Last thing I need is gossip right now.”
You’re so fed up with her teasing. If you two hadn’t just clicked when you took over the restaurant, you’d probably just kick her ass out in the cold.
“And, no. He has not. So, you can leave now, ma’am.”
“Oh, for sure,” she sighs dramatically. “Hell only knows what you two do when you are alone.”
Your jaw drops. 
Sometimes this bond you share is a blessing; but other times, it’s a curse.
Kaci’s a sweetheart, but her mouth… Well, let’s just say these comments are normal for her. 
And just like your father, she loves to play Cupid. No wonder he hired her.
“Just get your ass out of here.”
You can barely keep your laugh from bursting through your lips as you send a rag flying towards her. She dodges it, then proceeds to give you a middle finger. She has another shady comment ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but then she glances out of the glass door and smirks instead. 
You scoff. “Bitch, what is it now?”
Kaci then shakes her head. 
“Nothing, babe. I’m out,” she winks. Kaci then points towards the parking lot and whispers, “Daddy’s here.”
“Huh? What are you talking about—”
Crawling into one of the booths, you partially open the blinds with your fingers and peek out of the window.
About seven sets of headlights stare back at you, all belonging to vehicles that are as dark as the midnight hour. A BMW sits in the center, blacked out with tinted windows and black custom rims. However, you don’t need a look inside to know who it is. No one else would pull up like they own the lot.
All the businesses are closed, which means these aren’t customers. It’s the boss.
Your heart rate builds up when the door opens and his sneakers touch the concrete. He stands there for a moment fixing his jacket and discreetly observing his surroundings. 
Your eyes follow his movements. You can only hear the bass from his music and the noises coming from your throat as you try to gulp down the saliva building up in your mouth. 
All you needed to see was the top of his head to confirm what you already knew. 
Yoongi’s here, and he’s the one coming to collect payment tonight.
You don’t know why your heart is about to pound out of your chest like you’re hexed by some teenage crush. Maybe you are still hung up on him a little bit. You can’t deny how attractive he still is. He definitely wears age well.
The dark hair suits him perfectly. You can remember the horror stories about the color experiments gone wrong when you were teenagers. It’s a surprise that it’s still luscious and healthy as it is.
However, that isn’t the only thing that has changed in his appearance.
They’re hard to spot under his jacket, but his torso, back, and arms are covered in tattoos. You only know about this because another waitress working here loves to share the story of how she was on her knees in a bathroom giving a shirtless Yoongi a blowjob. 
You would never admit jealousy, but damn; that lucky bitch.
Yoongi starts to make his way across the parking lot, pushing back his hair with his ringed-fingers to grant better vision out of his peripherals. You know he’s always watching his back; he can never be too careful when he’s making moves.
His haircut allows you to get a glimpse of the ink crawling up his neck, disappearing behind his ear. His earring dangles in the wind as he strides in your direction.
Each step is confident and dominant;  his aura dark and mysterious. 
A man who is about his business, it’s no shock that heads turn when he steps into the room. He’s reserved, but not afraid to enforce his authority when he deems necessary. You heard stories, and crossing Yoongi is considered a death wish. 
He’s like the hot badass described in movies or books, but he actually is that guy. Handsome, street-wise, tattoos and scars; paired with money, jewelry, and you’d be stupid to think he isn’t packing. 
You can smell the power and Dior emitting from his body all the way from where you are. 
Each step he takes towards the entrance of the restaurant gives you a better view without being noticed. It’s a sin how good he looks and he’s just wearing a simple outfit with some sneakers. You have no business feeling these kinds of things, but it’s impossible to not.
“Can he just bend us over already?”
You hear Kaci whisper the same words you were just thinking. But she can’t know that, so you swat her again for good measure.
“Fine…I’m leaving,” she whines, walking to the door.
You back out of the booth and move over to the host stand so you can roll silverware and act like you weren’t watching him.
Kaci opens the door just as he’s about to reach for the handle, and of course, she gives him a warm welcome.
“Hi, Yoongi,” she beams. You roll your eyes the second you hear that annoying high-pitched voice she uses when she’s being coy.
“Hey, can you hang back for a bit? It won’t be long.”
“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”
The look he gives her sends your radar up, so you set down the utensils in your hand and join them in the lobby.
“Hey,” you greet him when he notices you. “What’s going on?”
Yoongi sighs before he answers, shaking his head as he gathers his words.
“You know the alterations shop over there?” 
His head nods in the direction of the Leonard’s shop a few stores down. Both of you nod because they take lunch breaks here everyday.
“Somebody hit them up about an hour ago. Left their daughter in bad shape before they stripped the registers,” he informs.
“Are you serious? That’s awful.”
“Yeah, they’re good people. Who would do something that disgusting?” Kaci asks.
Yoongi only shrugs. “Don’t know, but as soon as I find out…”
He doesn’t even need to continue. It’ll be bad; probably worse than you can imagine. One thing the Min’s don’t tolerate is disrespect. You mess with one of their people, you get handled. In this case, you can’t even feel bad for the bastard. That family doesn’t bother anyone. It’s a shame they were targeted.
“Anyway, I don’t want either of you lingering around here at night anymore. Stick together during opening and closing until we catch this motherfucker understand?”
“Yeah, got it,” you reply, and Kaci also agrees.
“Sure, not a problem.”
With everyone on the same page, you make a note in your mind to update the security system in the restaurant and think of some safety tips for employees. No one can ever be too careful, especially after what just occurred so close to home.
“And Kaci?” he calls, just as she’s getting ready to depart. 
“Yeah?”
“Don’t walk home. Your pepper spray is expired. Ask one of the guys to drive you.”
“Is Hoseok out there?” 
You and Yoongi share a look. He’s probably wondering what it’s about, but then again, who doesn’t know they’re fucking?
“Yeah…he is—”
“Kay, bye!”
Before the door slams in your face, you call out to her. 
“Text me when you’re home!... Or when you’re able to use your hands.”
Yoongi chuckles as the both of you watch her dash across the lot. You aren’t sure how she’s able to spot the right SUV, but she does within seconds.
“This has been going on for a while, huh?” Yoongi inquires.
“Mhm. Fight, fuck, repeat.”
After a moment goes by, you realize you forgot to bring the money you owe Yoongi. You snap your fingers when you remember why he’s there in the first place.
“Oh, yeah. Come on, it’s back here,” you tell him.
Yoongi follows you toward the back of the restaurant until you reach the small manager’s office tucked in a corner of the kitchen. While you dig in your apron for the key, Yoongi checks in with you to see how everything’s going.
“How’s your dad?”
You pause to look at him and answer with a proud smile. Your father’s been working really hard on his road to recovery; it’s nice to talk about his accomplishments without someone looking at you with pity, which Yoongi never does.
“He’s been doing better. Lots of physical therapy, but he walked on his own yesterday.”
With a nod, Yoongi’s expression softens.  “That’s the shit I like to hear.”
“Me too.”
Once you find the keys, you unlock the door and the both of you step inside the dark room.
“Thanks,” you whisper when he flips the lightswitch for you. 
You can feel him watching you as you walk around the desk, and when you squat down to open the safe underneath, you hear his footsteps approaching. 
You start entering the combination while he whistles and looks around your office. 
You’re curious about what he’s looking at, but right now you can't even take a peek without him noticing. Instead, you focus on gathering the cash you owe him for last month and this month while he’s busy snooping around.
After a while, you figure he’s found something interesting because the room becomes quiet. You grab the stack you set aside and close the safe, making sure it’s locked before you do anything else.
“So how was your day?”
Yoongi’s deep voice tears a giant rift in the silence, startling you and causing you to bump your head on the edge of the desk. Thankfully, his back is turned and he didn’t hear the small thud because you’d be beyond embarrassed.
“It was okay,” you reply as you regain your footing. 
Yoongi turns in your direction when he hears your words become clearer, indicating you’re no longer digging around in the safe. He meets you halfway and you extend your hand with the stack of money resting between your fingers. 
“This is all of it.”
Yoongi looks at the stack before he responds. Most of the time, it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking because his expression is always so stoic.
“Just okay?” he quizzes. 
“Yeah, pretty much. It was busy so I was stuck in autopilot most of the day.”
He still hasn’t made a move to accept the money. You feel kind of awkward being so close to him as is, and his lack of response makes you feel even more anxious. 
Finally, he speaks. “Do you even have this to give me?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Please, take it.”
You gesture for him to take the money, and he reaches for it, making you believe he’s going to grab it.
“It’s all here. If you want me to count it, I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” he shrugs.
“Yoongi, no. We haven’t paid in a month. My dad would already be mad at me for being behind.”
“Does he have to know?” The look Yoongi gives you reminds you of all the times he’s talked you into doing something wild. He’d always take the blame if you got caught, but the thrill always made getting grounded irrelevant to you. “Keep it. We’re good until he gets back, okay?”
“Yoongi, I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“I won’t,” you declare confidently.
“So you’re arguing with me?”
Your eyes widen, realizing that he wasn’t giving you an option.
“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I only hear good things about this place,” he concludes.
“Okay, ok. Thanks, Yoongi.”
“Don’t mention it.”
As you’re returning the money to the safe, Yoongi brings something to your attention.
“I don’t see your car outside.”
“Ah, shit. It needed to be serviced. I was supposed to pick it up on my lunch, but I forgot.”
After visiting the bank this morning, you dropped your vehicle off at the dealership for maintenance, but the breakfast rush swarmed in as soon as you arrived at work. By the time you thought about picking it up, it was well after business hours.
“Um, do you mind—”
“Wanna ride?” Yoongi offers.
“Please.” Relieved, you exhale a needed sigh. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”
“Not at all, love.”
You quickly grab your purse and switch off the light in your office, ignoring that feeling you got from the little pet name. 
Yoongi leads the way this time. As you’re following him through the restaurant, you’re sure to double check everything before you leave. Even Yoongi turns to ask you if you’ve secured everything.
“Good?”
“Yeah, everything’s turned off and we’re locked up tight.”
“Cool.”
Walking into the dining area, you give everything a quick once-over before following Yoongi to the exit. Everything looks tidy and neat how you like it so you step out into the cold night with your chauffeur. 
He waits with you while you lock the front doors, looking around for any curious eyes. After you’ve finished turning the lock and key, you give the handle a tug to make sure it doesn’t open.
Growing up in this neighborhood will teach you a thing or two about being cautious and aware of your surroundings.
“It’s freezing tonight,” you comment.
Sometimes you like to make small talk with Yoongi, see where the conversation goes. Depending on the mood he’s in, he’ll either have one sentence responses or he’ll engage in light conversation.
You don’t mention the past much. It seems like pretending it never happened is easier for both of you. However, sometimes you have an impulse to bring up the subject, or at least try to mend what’s broken. 
If that’s possible.
“Cold? This is perfect weather.”
You roll your eyes. He’s definitely fucking with you.
“Oh, whatever. You know it’s freezing out here.”
You don’t care how ridiculous you look speeding towards his car. You’re shivering and Yoongi takes forever to unlock the door.
You shuffle from foot to foot, wiggling to build up some body heat. You can hear the fabric of your jeans rubbing together due to the friction.
“You know it’s already unlocked, right?”
Oh.
You climb inside and relief washes over you. The heat is blowing warm and strong, making the leather seats even more comfortable. The seat warmers keep your butt cozy, and the vents are aiming towards your upper body. It’s perfect; you could fall asleep right here.
When Yoongi gets in the driver seat, your head lolls in his direction.
“Thank you.”
“For?” he asks.
“Your car feels like heaven right now.”
Yoongi scoffs softly.
“It isn’t always this warm. Trust me,” he replies.
“Well regardless, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem, love.”
Fuck.
Yoongi’s engine revs as he pulls out of the parking lot. A thought comes into your mind as the vibrations travel up your body.
“Does it ever make your balls tingle?”
He coughs, clearing his throat while checking to see if he heard right.
“Uh, what?”
“The car,” you elaborate. “When you’re driving it…You don’t feel anything?”
Honestly, you’re just chatting to keep yourself from falling asleep. You don’t even expect him to answer as you stare out of the window, watching the SUVs fade in the distance.
“I guess I never really thought about it,” he responds.
You nod, vibing to the music. He’s turned the volume down since you’ve joined him, so you can actually hear each other speak.
“Hm. Sure does make your pussy tingle.”
You don’t think he heard that part. It was barely a whisper. If he did, he chose to ignore it.
“You alright?”
“Yup,” you answer. “Just ready to unwind.”
“Any plans tonight?”
You sit up in your seat, and turn to him.
“You bet.”
Yoongi laughs. “Oh, yeah?”
“I have a date with my bed, and I’m gonna let my blanket top me.”
“Gotcha. So you’re locked down, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, it sure sounds like it. I never see you having any fun.”
You give him a look. 
“Well, look who’s talking. Besides, you know I’m dealing with a lot right now.”
“Fair enough, but you’re still allowed to do something for yourself for a change. Some of us don’t have that privilege,” he replies.
“I think everyone has the privilege to do something for themselves. You just have to be selfish enough to go for it, I guess.”
“That is true.”
Yoongi then turns the music up a few notches. You already know what that means. He’s over conversation and wants to get lost in his thoughts. 
As you cruise through the streets, people may look on the surface and think this is some young bachelor taking his car for a late night drive—maybe heading to one of the city’s hot spots. 
But Yoongi is all work, and no play. If it’s not about moving product, it’s placed on the backburner.
You can relate, but tonight you’re switching it up. Self care is calling your name and you aren’t hanging up this time.
“What happened to the garden?”
You’re pulled from your thoughts by Yoongi’s voice. 
As he pulls up to the curve in front of your childhood home, he can’t stop himself from teasing you about your dying plants. You really tried your best with them, but unfortunately, you weren’t gifted with nurturing hands.
“You’re not funny,” you mutter, acting ignorant.
You know you’ve destroyed your dad’s flower bed, but he doesn’t have to make fun of you.
“I’m just saying, shouldn't you cover them?”
“I forgot!”
“You always do,” he mumbles.
You giggle as you’re opening the door; finally having a carefree conversation with your old friend again feels nice. As soon as you step out into the elements again, the winter air nips at your cheeks and you know you’ll be trembling by the time you get to your doorstep.
“Well, thanks for the ride.”
Yoongi just nods and tells you that he’d do it anytime you needed him to.
As you stand outside of the car, you start to get that feeling in your gut. That urge you know you shouldn’t have, but the temptation is stronger than ever.
Yoongi tilts his head, wondering why you’re standing in the cold. You’re frozen, silently debating on what you should do.
Ultimately, you go for it, knowing the risk you’re taking without being prepared for the aftermath. 
You’re even sure why you’re asking, or where you expect things to go. But tonight made you realize something. You miss having a best friend. 
Your best friend.
“Hey, it's late. You wanna come inside?... If you don’t have any plans.”
Regret washes over you as soon as the words leave your mouth. You weren’t ready, neither was he. You curse yourself for rushing it. The silence goes on for ages, but you’re so numb, the cold doesn’t faze you.
Finally, he gives you an answer. “You know I can’t do that.”
Well, now you know you’re the only one still holding on. By can’t, he means he won’t. 
Nodding, you lie and pretend that you understand where he’s coming from. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry about that.”
You were sure he’d be more open now that time has passed. However, you’re still stuck where you left off. He still won’t hear you out.
“There’s no need,” he assures. 
Still, you feel guilty. Selfish.
Foolish.
“Well look, I'll see you around, yeah?” He checks his phone and tosses it on the passenger seat. "I have to go deal with something."
“Okay, thanks again for the ride. Stay safe.”
You try not to look disappointed, but it’s probably no good. You’re sure he hears it in your voice. Or maybe you sound more tired than anything. You are exhausted. Maybe it’s your restless mind that's causing you to get ahead of yourself and open old wounds. It’s best you go inside before you can dig yourself a bigger hole. 
“You'll call me if you need me, right?”
If you need him… 
You always need him. He’s your rock. Well, probably not anymore. How do you learn to forget someone who’s always been there for you?
You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue before you reply. You’ll get over it. You always do. 
Just not right now.
“Yeah, I’ve tried that already. Goodnight, Yoongi.”
You shut his car door and retreat to the safety of your home. You’re unsure if he says it back or not. You walk away before he can respond. 
Everything in your sight becomes blurry as your vision is blocked by a wave of pending tears. You urgently open your front door in case he’s following you. 
A part of you wishes that he did. 
But the longer you stand there, back pressed against your front door, secluded from the same world you’ve just finished servicing—you realize that the chances of that happening are too slim to hold onto. 
Minutes go by, and you start calming down. You find your strength again, and you realize that your vulnerability made you panic. You got too comfortable, and that’s your fault. 
Tonight will just be another solo night; nothing you aren’t used to. 
You wipe your face and rid yourself of all the negative energy. Tomorrow you’ll be fine and the blow of rejection will start to fade away. Shaking your head, you clear your mind and start taking off your clothes.
You put it in your mind that you won’t hold this against Yoongi, and whenever he’s ready to talk—if ever—you’ll tell your side of the story if he wants to hear it.
Until then, you’ll just focus on you because he was right about one thing.
You should treat yourself; you deserve it.
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“Get your sorry ass up.”
Yoongi stares at his hand as he walks away from the battered man lying on the ground. His knuckles are bruised and covered in the thief’s blood. The sight would bring shame to his father. He shouldn’t be out here behaving like a street thug when he’s got power moves to make.
But when he found out there was danger lurking so close to you, he had to deliver the message himself. He’s sure it was heard loud and clear.
Possibilities played through his mind with every blow that rained down on the guy. What if it was your father’s restaurant that had been hit up? What if you had been inside?
He’s furious, enraged; but mostly at himself for how he keeps letting you down. You wanted to forgive him tonight, put everything that happened behind you and maybe try again. But what did he do?
He ruined it.
He always figured that he would, but it’s what you needed to hear. He’s not a good guy or some bad boy you can turn good. Yoongi’s in this too deep to be pulled out. There’s no way he could ever look your father in the eye and tell him that he’s put your life in danger. 
That’s why he refuses to address those feelings he has for you. He’d either end up breaking your heart, or getting you into a nasty situation.
If the wrong person were to know that he has a thing for you, you’d become a weapon for an opp to use against him. Yoongi’s respected by many, but there are some who want everything he has; you’d be added to the top of that list if they knew he’d died for you. 
He can’t lose what his family’s worked hard for, but he can’t lose you either. 
There’s only two options if that line’s ever crossed. Either you’re with him, and you’ll have to step into his world; or you’re not; and the streets deem you fair game. 
The latter infuriates him. He’d kill anyone who would ever think of laying a finger on you. That’s why he has to make examples out of motherfuckers like the one behind him.
“You need to find you something safe to do, my friend.”
Yoongi turns around just as the man rises to his feet, staggering and weak from the beating he’s received. One of his arms cradles his torso while the other wipes blood from his lips. He’d receive pity from anyone without the context, but if they knew what he did to that seamstress—they’d be wondering why he’s still alive.
This is far less than what this scum deserves. His apologies fall on deaf ears. Yoongi’s men don’t give a shit about his apology, and neither does he.
“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know this was your block too. I was just—”
Yoongi pulls out his glock and fires a shot near the guy’s foot, barely missing him. He doesn’t recall asking him to speak.
“You better assume every block is mine, motherfucker. I own this fucking city. Have you forgotten?”
“I—”
Another shot nearly blows his head off because once again, Yoongi never asked him to talk.
“Who told you to open your mouth?...” he seethes. “Speak again and I won’t miss.”
The man nods, lifting his shaky hands as a surrender. 
Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he contemplates his next move. A few minutes ago, he was set on ending him right in this spot, but after thinking about you he’s calmed down a lot. 
That’s the only reason this man’s life will be spared. His mind is somewhere else now; all he can think about is his own mistakes. This guy’s learned his lesson; no need to waste anymore of his time here.
“Look, don’t ever put me in this situation again. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir. I won’t. I promise.”
Yoongi knocks the guy out cold with his gun. He looks over at the officer who was escorting the guy to jail and gives him a nod, giving him the clear to take him in. 
“This was a citizen’s arrest,” he insists, handing the cop a wad of cash.
“You got that.”
He dismisses his men, and goes to have a cigarette while he thinks.
After the criminal is placed in the back of the squad car, the cop rejoins Yoongi as he sits on the hood of his vehicle, having a smoke before he goes on with his night.
“Never thought I’d see you get dirty, especially tonight.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, me either.”
Yoongi looks at his personal phone, looking to see if you’ve texted him, or called. He doesn’t know why he’s checking. He shouldn’t expect you to reach out after how he left you tonight. It’d be a miracle if you ever wanted to see him again.
“It’s not too late, you know.”
“The fuck are you talking about, Shark?”
Shark is one of his longtime friends. He comes from a long line of crooked cops. 
He’s been present through the ups and downs of his friendship with you. Shark’s always been rooting on your side, always telling him to reach out when you left for college.
Yoongi has never taken his advice, though.
“I’m just saying. Maybe you should just call her,” he explains.
“Who?”
“You want me to say her name out here?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
Both of them share a laugh at Yoongi’s reaction, but then silence falls over the night. 
Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Yoongi’s hands are beginning to throb with pain. He tries focusing on something other than that awful feeling, but he can only think about you.
Why couldn’t he just hear you out? That would have been fair. He’s regretting more and more as time goes by, wondering if the opportunity has slipped away.
He notices the way you look at him, the way you perk up when you see him. He knows there are a lot of unspoken words because honestly, he’s always had deeper feelings for you. It was way before you realized you like him as well. He bottled that shit up throughout high school, and when he had the chance to tell you how he felt, he fumbled.
You even gave him a second chance to come clean, and he still couldn’t get it together.
“Seriously, what happened tonight? I see it all over your face.”
Yoongi sighs. “I took her home, and she invited me inside.”
“And you said no? Dude, no way.”
Yoongi looks over and finds his friend’s face stuck in a grimace. He feels shame creeping up his neck, so he quickly shifts his focus somewhere else. 
“What was I supposed to say? You know I can’t let anyone see me walking in her place,” he argues.
“You could have invited her to yours, explained things a bit more. I’m sure she’s capable of making decisions for herself.”
Yoongi’s at a crossroads, but every way he turns leaves him with doubt. It’s like he’s damn regardless. 
“What if it doesn’t change her mind? What should I tell her dad, huh?” Yoongi rants. “He asked me to keep her safe, man.”
“And what do you think he meant by that?”
Shark looks at his watch and turns to Yoongi as he prepares to leave. 
“Look, my shift ends soon, so I gotta go. But I think you know as well as I do that you have the old man’s blessings. Just stop overthinking it. You’ll screw yourself.”
With that, Shark walks to his vehicle, and puts it in drive.Before he pulls from underneath the overpass, he rolls his window down and yells out.
“It’ll be alright, brother. Trust me!”
When Shark leaves, he switches cars with his right hand, not wanting to double back to your part of town in the same ride. As he starts driving away from the secluded area, he thinks back on how tonight has gone so far. That’s when something you said hits him…and it hits him hard.
“You said you needed me,” he whispers.
All day you’ve been surrounded by people, loving each other; only to go home to an empty house. You just wanted some company, a distraction. You wanted a friend.
It’s then he realizes that he’s hurt your feelings more than a little. You weren’t hung up on a crush you had over five years ago. He’s so stupid. How did his brain not perceive what you said as an invitation to hang out?
Just like you used to.
Yoongi does a U-turn and heads straight for your house. He has no idea what you’ll say to him, or if you’ll speak to him at all. But he needs you to know one thing; he gets it now. And he won’t ever let you down again.
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No matter how many times you watch it, the horror classic Thirteen Ghosts never gets old. Your dad laughs whenever you call it your comfort flick, but he’s also not a horror fan so he just wouldn’t understand. 
That bath worked more magic than you could ever imagine. It’s super late, and you should be in bed, but you’ve been thinking about the bottle of wine you bought the other day since earlier.
You aren’t really a drinker, but the bottle was cute. You figured tonight would be the perfect chance to eat some snacks, watch a movie, and give it a try. But as soon as the glass touches your lips, your doorbell rings. 
You’re not expecting anyone this late. When you don’t answer, they pound on the door, startling you. Wine spills all over your hands. Quickly, you use your shirt to dry them off before making a bigger mess. You drink what’s left in the glass in one gulp before checking your Ring camera, letting out a gasp when you discover who’s standing at your doorstep.
“Yoongi?” you whisper.
Placing your phone and empty glass on the coffee table, you go to see what he wants. If you’re honest, you’re a bit worried. Did someone break into the restaurant? 
Your dad would be devastated. 
Without a second thought, you open the door, and interrogate Yoongi before he can even open his mouth.
“Is everything okay? Did something happen to my dad’s—”
“Oh, fuck. No! No, that’s not why I’m here,” he interrupts. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, clutching your chest as the panic slowly leaves your body. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. What’s up? Are you okay?”
Now that you’re not shaken with worry, you notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is messy; his expression seems anxious, his knuckles bruised.
“Were you fighting?” you quiz.
“Huh?” Yoongi looks confused but then suddenly seems to remember his injury. “Oh, this is nothing. I’m good. I just came to uhh… To see you.”
Your eyebrow raises curiously. “To see me?”
“Yeah,” he confirms. 
“Okay, well… that’s nice of you, but I was planning on going to bed in a bit. I have to get up early.”
You aren’t sure why he’s acting weird. Is he in trouble? Surely, he’d tell you if he was. If so, why would he come here?
“Um, okay. Sorry,” he answers.
You tell him goodnight and attempt to shut the door, but Yoongi lodges his arm into the opening.
“What are you doing—”
“I’m listening.”
“What?”
You open the door once again, fully believing this man has lost his mind. It’s freezing out there, and he’s just standing there babbling.
“I said I’m listening,” he repeats. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what, Yoongi?”
You’ve never been more confused. First, he drops you off and hauls ass across town. Now he’s pacing at your doorstep, fumbling all over his words. Something’s going on.
“You wanted to talk, but I ghosted you, remember?”
Oh. So he remembers that.
“That’s water under the bridge. Just forget it,” you insist.
“So now I’m water under the bridge?”
“What?! No! That’s not what I said.”
“Well, explain,” he pleads. “Or just tell me it’s too late.”
“Yoongi…”
“I just wanna be friends again, but this haunts me. If you have feelings for me, I can’t—”
“I don’t,” you admit.
This is the first time Yoongi has stood completely still since he got here. He stares at you with wide eyes, not uttering a single word. 
It took you a long time to understand your feelings for Yoongi. You had to experience a few unnecessary hook ups and break ups to realize you weren’t in love. You just wanted to fuck him like everyone else.
Who knows where things would have gone? But it would have been nice to let things happen naturally than to bottle up feelings.
You open the door again, and step to the side. 
“Come in. It’s cold.”
This time he doesn’t reject your invitation. 
Yoongi follows you into your living room, looking around and probably reminiscing over the past. Nothing’s really changed other than the furniture. However, the memories of the days you two used to run around while your mom scolded you for messing up the floors are still present.
You point to the couch and offer him a seat while you stand there gathering your words.
“You can sit here.”
“Thanks,” he replies.
Yoongi sits and does that thing he does with his hands when he’s nervous. His fingers intertwine and he just watches his thumbs chase each other in a loop. He used to do it all the time whenever he’d stay too late at your house and his dad would come looking for him.
Your parents always were able to calm Mr. Min down before he could reprimand Yoongi. It took him a while but he finally understood that you and his son were best friends, and your place was Yoongi’s second home.
There are so many evenings he’d miss basketball practice to hold you while you cried after your mom died. Yoongi never left your side. Even when you were unrightfully resentful and angry with him for still having his mom in his life; he understood every stage of your grief.
So no, he’s not just water under the bridge to you. He could never be. He may be wrong for shutting you out, but everyone has their breaking point. 
“I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you. That I wanted you to go with me to college,” you confess.
Yoongi’s jaw nearly hits the floor. You can tell he’s shocked because he starts tripping over his words.
“I-I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You—”
“...Was confused,” you add. 
You can’t help but laugh at yourself and at the situation. All this time you’ve been scared to rip the bandaid off, and the wound’s already healed.
“I didn’t have anyone to talk with about dating and stuff; not from a young woman’s perspective, at least. I would watch rom-coms and thought I had butterflies whenever I saw you. Whole time…”
You fold your arms and lean against the wall, watching the television with a blank stare. Already, it feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. So much tension has built up over time, so many unspoken words and unresolved feelings that it’s a relief to get it all out.
“...My pussy was throbbing.”
Yoongi picks his mouth up off the floor, and straightens in his seat. Once again, he’s caught off guard.
“Huh-What?”
You snort. “I was horny, curious… I just wanted you to bend me over and deflower me.”
“Deflower you? The fuck?”
Yoongi’s laughter erupts from his chest, lightening the vibes in the room. It’s nice to hear him laugh, like genuinely grin and reveal his cute smile. You didn’t realize how much you missed seeing the image until it’s presented to you at that moment.
“Well, it’s true!”
“I see you are still an over-sharer,” Yoongi chuckles.
“And you’re still stubborn.”
Both of you look at each, shaking your heads and sharing a fond smile. You can tell this has been weighing on him as much as it did you. He’s regretful of how he handled the situation, and you’re sorry for staying away so long.
You should have tried harder. Yoongi always did whenever it got tough. 
Regardless, it’s in the past. It’s time to move on.
You walk across the room with your arms open, inviting your friend into an embrace.
“Seriously? No way,” he grimaces, trying to get up before you can close him in.
Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.
“You know you want to. Come here.”
Wrapping your arms around Yoongi, you giggle when he acts like he’s all tense. He always pretends he doesn’t want to hug you at first, but then, he gives in.
“Fuck it,” he groans, pulling you closer.
You melt in his arm almost immediately. You don’t even care if you slide to the floor. All of your weight rests on him, but he still holds you up while complaining about you smothering him.
“I wish I could breathe,” he gripes.
“Fine…”
Yoongi expects you to back away; but instead, you climb on his lap.
“What are you doing?” 
You shrug. “My bad. I thought we were cool.”
Maybe you did move a little too quickly, but it’s nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times. You’ve shared beds, seen each other naked… accidentally found each other’s Pornhub accounts. You were just acting on instinct. 
You’re about to stand, but Yoongi stops you. “We are, but aren’t you mad at me?... From earlier?”
“A little, but…”
“But what?”
“Can’t friends kiss and make up?” you propose.
His hands rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently nudging at your big t-shirt. The room seems warmer now that there’s no distance between you. Or maybe it’s just the fires building in your belly that’s making you hot?
“Maybe…”
You trace his lips with your finger tips while looking in his eyes. You could spend the night like this if it were up to you. He’s beautiful; inside and out.
“Wanna try and find out?” he whispers.
You respond by softly connecting your lips, moaning instantly as your entire body begins to tingle. 
Yoongi pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and encourages you to deepen the kiss you share by parting your lips with his tongue. You don’t deny him, and he invades your mouth—taking over and leaving you dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, he pulls away, and you’re quick to whine.
“I smell wine,” he comments. “Are you—”
“I had a sip, and the rest spilled all over my hands.”
You show him the stains on your hands and shirt, and he just stares in disbelief. “Only you.”
“Whatever,” you dismiss, trying to steal another kiss from his wet lips. “I need you.”
You drag your crotch across his lap, seeking friction. You’re shocked when he grabs your waist, thinking you’re overstepped once again.
“Hold on.”
Yoongi reaches under his shirt and grabs his gun from his waistband. He shoves it in the folds of your couch, and throws you a wink.
“We’ve kissed. Now let's make up.”
With a smile, you get up and grab his hand.
“Follow me…”
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“Get on the bed,” he moans against your lips, pulling away to take off his shirt. 
You begin to move, but a thought pops up in your mind. 
Instead of climbing on the bed, you watch him remove his t-shirt and reveal his ink covered body. You bite your lip in awe at the masterpiece standing in front of you. He has no idea how hot he looks while simply undressing. You’re ready to pounce on him right now, but you pace yourself.
You have all night.
When Yoongi notices you’re still standing in the same spot, he tilts his head with a puzzled expression.
“Change your mind?” he quizzes.
You shake your head, and close the small space between you. Before he can say anything else, you drop to your knees. With skilled hands, you pull on his belt until it's free from the buckle. You flash Yoongi a smirk when you discover he’s watching you with those dark eyes. 
As you pop open the button on his pants, your other hand flattens over his denim covered dick, noting the way it begs to be freed.
“I can’t wait,” you murmur, stroking it over his jeans. 
Once you’re finally able to access his underwear, you reach inside and retrieve his thick, warm cock. You don’t care if you moaned before your lips even touched it. Shame is long gone, and you aren’t afraid to show Yoongi how long you’ve been waiting for this.
“I can tell,” he scoffs.
You let his smart remarks slide for the sake of your impatience, and move in to run the tip of your tongue up and down his slit. His precum oozes out and coats your taste buds, giving you a tiny sample of what he’ll taste like when he dumps his load on your tongue. 
Yoongi hisses, probably reacting to sensitivity. You keep going, giving him a moment to ground himself before you give him the real deal.
While you tease him, you admire his girth. He’s heavy in your hand, but his dick is the perfect size to wrap your hand around it. It’s smooth, but textured and veiny—just like his hands.
No longer able to wait any longer, you part your lips and let your saliva cover the tip. You use your fingers and palm to lubricate the rest of his shaft so that it slides into your mouth with ease. Only when he’s dripping wet with spit do you take him in, and his reaction is golden.
“Ahh, fuck.”
If you could smile, you would right now. Knowing you have him on his tiptoes almost feels as good as the blunt head of his dick touching the back of your throat. 
You can feel his muscles tenses up once your head begins to bob up and down, purposefully slurping loudly to create sinful noises.
“Fuck,” Yoongi curses. 
His voice is rough as he pants through his words, attempting to keep his composure, but failing. 
When Yoongi’s hand finds the back of your head, you look up to see what he’s doing. You keep going as you watch him whisper profanities into the air, running his ringed fingers through his dark strands.
He gathers your hair in his palm, making your scalp tingle and sting due to his strong grip. He starts controlling your movements, managing how much of him you take in at once. It’s not long before you’re choking and gagging on his cock. 
Drops of your spit and tears fall to the floor. Your head starts to spin from the vigorous motions, but the feeling doesn’t prevent you from allowing Yoongi to fuck your throat until it’s raw. 
Craving more, he thrusts into your mouth. The look on his face and the desperation of his movements lets you know he’s almost near his peak. However, once he realizes what’s happening, he swiftly pulls out, leaving you coughing due to the sudden intake of air.
“Look at me,” he commands after you catch your breath. “You’re fucking hot for that.”
“Thank you—”
Yoongi’s hand smacks the smirk off your face. You’re caught off guard, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from gushing at the change in his tone.
“But is that what I told you to do?”
You try to shake your head, but he’s still holding your hair.
“No, use your fucking mouth.”
When you try to speak, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushing them deep enough to gag you.
“You like using your mouth, don’t you?” he asks, but you know he isn’t looking for an answer. “So speak.”
“I do,” you croak around his digits.
“Now get the fuck on the bed like I told you to the first time.”
Yoongi snatches you up, and you scramble to the bed. You sit and wait for him to take off the rest of his clothes, trying to remain patient as you see he’s not in the mood for disobedience. You weren’t bothered the slightest by his lack of respect.
In fact, you crave more; and if you have to beg for it, you will.
“Second thoughts?” he asks randomly.
You notice that his wallet’s in his hand and after a few seconds he pulls out a condom. You get butterflies the moment he places a knee on the bed. For you, it’s not even happening fast enough.
“No way.”
“Good,” he winks. “Because I’m not gentle.”
“And I’m not glass.”
Yoongi growls when he hears that response, crawling over to you at lightning speed.
“Come here.”
He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, pushing your legs apart so he can access your center. His fingers trace over your lace panties until he ultimately decides to rip them off of you. 
You squeak in surprise when you hear the fabric tearing.
“Yoongi!”
“Shh,” he coos. “They’re ruined anyway.”
With a face burning with embarrassment, you turn away and stare at the wall while Yoongi puts the condom on. You can feel his eyes on you, observing the way he makes you fidget and squirm.
You get too comfortable lying there in your own thoughts. The sensation between your thighs catches you off guard. 
“Ooh, shit Yoongi!”
Your body reacts the instant his dick rubs against your clit. You’re already worked up and ready to be filled, but Yoongi doesn’t want to skip the foreplay.
“Damn, it’s wet.”
He rubs the tip over your crevice, taunting you each time he passes your entrance. Just when you think he’ll slide in, he moves up to your throbbing clit and repeats.
“Please stop teasing,” you beg.
Yoongi laughs. “Why should I?”
“Because—”
You begin to whine and complain, but your words get stuck in your throat when Yoongi suddenly enters your pussy.
“Oh my god.”
Your wetness allows him to slide in easily, but your body wasn’t prepared to take him all at once. 
You grip your sheets for support, but the initial shock of him moving so quickly takes almost a minute to subside. 
Yoongi’s patient, giving your body time to adjust before he worries about pleasure. His thumb slowly massages your clit, getting you to relax under his touch. When your grip on the sheets finally loosen, he makes tiny strokes to test the waters.
“Good now?” he asks.
“Mhm.”
With your approval, he positions himself over you and fucks you a little deeper. Once he finds the perfect rhythm, he moves your right leg and places it on his shoulder. 
You’re already moaning loudly, not caring who hears. You cry out everytime his dick digs into your cervix, exploring places you never knew could be reached. 
You’ve begged guys to go deep, but they’ve always been scared to test their limits. Not Yoongi; he’s giving you everything he has, and even though you’re barely holding onto your sanity, you’d probably cry if he stopped.
“Take that damn shirt off,” he growls, gripping the giant t-shirt draped over your body.
You almost can’t figure out how to get it off, but by a miracle you manage. Now completely naked, you toss the clothing aside and start groping your tits while you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. You thought Yoongi would enjoy watching you, but he’s not impressed.
“Who told you to touch yourself?” he presses.
You don’t answer quickly enough for him. Honestly, you weren’t going to reply because your mind is so far away that his words just drift through your ears.
A hand around your throat snatches you back to real time. He’s pissed, biting his lip and trying not to spill his load before he’s ready.
“Answer me.”
This time you speak up immediately. “No one.”
“Hm. So you just do what you want?”
The sound of his deep voice mixed with the sound of your slapping skin and squelching juices turns you on beyond explanation. That familiar tension starts to build in the pit of your stomach, informing you of what’s soon to follow.
“I don’t like rules, Yoongi.”
“Oh, you will,” he promises.
Yoongi’s thrusts get stronger, making your body shift towards the top of the bed. He somehow keeps you in place using the hand he has wrapped around your neck, but you’re still being bounced around like a ragdoll.
“Since you don’t like it, I’ll finish up and leave.”  His movements suddenly become faster, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s implying. “You can make yourself cum, right?”
“What?” you shriek. “No!”
His laughter resonates through your bedroom as he mocks your desperation. You try reaching between your legs, attempting to induce an orgasm yourself but he forbids.
“Uh-uh.” 
He pushes your hand away and pins your wrist to the mattress, leaving you with no other resort.
“Yoongi, I wanna cum. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Better watch what comes out of your mouth then.”
You groan, realizing he’s too stubborn to give in. He’s not bluffing; he’d actually leave you stuck. 
You can taste the pleasure on your tongue. You’re so close, but Yoongi’s thrusts are starting to become wild. If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t get what you crave.
“Tell me now…” he grunts, lust oozing from his lips. He leans forward, pushing your leg to your chest as he tries to come closer. The coolness of his chains pressed against your feverish skin brings you a little relief, but it’s not nearly enough. “You sorry?”
Fuck.
“I am.”
He chuckles. “I know.”
Yoongi’s thumb then wipes the single tear rolling down your cheek. Your body’s restless and seeking some relief from all the tension building inside your core. 
He finally slows down, pacing himself so he’s no longer ahead of you in the race to ecstasy. His finger gently tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking you to relax your jaw.
“You’re mine, right?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Good... Now open.”
Gauging your reaction, he smirks when you don’t oblige. You stick out your tongue, waiting for what you already expected.
Yoongi spits directly into your mouth, and you don’t even flinch. You look into his eyes as you close and swallow. He’s pleased when you reveal that nothing’s left when you open again.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he moans, repositoning himself.
Whatever he says after that is lost between his swearing and muffled cries as he presses his lips against your leg. He slowly picks up his speed this time, allowing the heat to fill up inside of you before he drills you like before.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
“You too, Yoongi.”
You’re desperate for more tension, but you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you chase it yourself.
“More, please.”
“More?”
“Please…”
“I got you,” he assures.
Without another word, his thumb finds your clit. His name rolls off your lips over and over, surely traveling far outside your bedroom. Your body tenses aside from your fist pounding the bed. 
“Cumming!”
You can hardly breathe, air getting trapped in your lungs as his hips snap violently into yours. Your back arches as a wave of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your cries begin to fade away and all you can hear is your rapid heartbeat erupting through your ears.
Yoongi doesn’t let up, giving you his all until your body slowly falls back on you. He then pulls out and peels the condom off of his pulsing cock. As soon as it’s freed, he releases his hot seed onto your skin—painting your stomach and breasts white and sticky.
Both of you stay where you are, panting and struggling to catch your breaths.
You can see Yoongi through your heavy eyelids, slumped over and exhausted from everything he’s given in the past few minutes. His hair hangs over his eyes, but you know he’s just staring at your pussy, replaying everything that just happened in his mind.
“Yoongi?”
“Hm?” He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice, gently lowering your leg before he crawls toward you.
You feel like you’re melting when he kisses your lips. It's almost like a dream being this close to him again. Even after so long you remember the way he smells, the way he breathes… You remember everything like it was yesterday.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin.  lips make one final journey over your body, kissing every inch of you and not caring about the taste of his cum staining your flesh. He gives you endless compliments and praises, making you bury your face in your pillows. “I can’t forget to taste you.”
“Wait!” you gasp when he spreads your pussy and devours you.
Your sensitive clit throbs in his mouth as he slurps up all your juices. Your body is limp by the time he’s done, eyes nearly shut and your mind shut down for the rest of the night.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the darkness.
Whatever he says next is a mystery because your tiredness ultimately puts you into a deep slumber.
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“I’m so fucking stupid.”
You groan as the sun pierces your eyes. Throughout the craziness of last night, you forgot to bring your phone to bed with you. Now, you’ll have to walk and—
Or you can ask Yoongi.
With that in mind, you roll over and unfortunately find an empty bed.
Of course, he left last night. He was probably out of the door as soon as you shut your eyes. You can only hope it’s because he has work to do and he’s not avoiding you after everything you talked about. You won’t even let your mind go there.
Instead, you get out of bed and stumble to the living room—finding your phone on the coffee table right where you left it. You’re still getting notifications as you pick it up; most from Kaci, one from another employee, but nothing from Yoongi.
Before you make your daily morning phone call to your dad, you text back that server regarding time off, and see what Kaci’s fussing about.
6:58am Kaci: BITCH YOU’RE STILL AT HOME!? 
7:10am Kaci: you so got fucked last night. i want all the detail STAT heaux
You roll your eyes. She won’t be getting anything other than the usual shoulder shrug. Last thing you need is for her to make a scene every time Yoongi’s in the room. 
7:23am You: omw. please cover for me.
7:23am Kaci: already am. get some ‘good morning’ dick sis
“I swear I wanna kill this girl sometimes,” you sigh.
Before you can leave the messaging app, your phone rings. The number isn’t saved so you answer it with caution.
“Hello?”
It’s Yoongi.
“Hey, what’s up?”
You hope he doesn’t hear the puff of air you let out as relief washes over you. You were sure you’d lost him again after the things you did and said to each other during the heat of the moment. Not like you didn’t mean everything you said, but you aren’t sure if he did.
“Nothing, just late for work. What’s up with you?”
“Not much right now. I might go home and catch some sleep,” he replies. “Your car’s outside, by the way.”
“Really?” You walk over to the window and open the blind, shocked when you see your car parked in front of your house. “How did you…”
“I told them I was taking it as collateral.”
“What?!”
Yoongi laughs. “I’m kidding.”
If he was standing next to you, you’d punch him. You don’t know how you fall for it every single time.
“I have my ways. Just um… do me a favor?” he asks.
“Yeah, anything.”
“I think my phone’s somewhere in your house. Can you check later?” 
You look around to see if maybe you can spot it but it’s nowhere in plain view. 
“I know you’re already late so…”
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” you respond. “If you want, you can stop by and look. The spare key is in the same spot it’s always been.”
“It’s cool. I’ll wait until you’re off work.”
“That works.”
Both of you stay silent, waiting on the other to speak. You realize you should be getting ready for work so you decide to end the call.
“Well, I have to get ready so… I’ll text this number later?”
Yoongi clears his throat before he answers. “Yeah, it’s a burner but I’ll get the message.”
“Kay. Bye then.”
“Hey,” he calls out before you can hang up.
“Yeah?”
“Still mine?”
A smile grows on your face, and you don’t try to stop it. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you were definitely still thinking about last night, wondering what it would mean today.
But you can’t let him have what he wants so easily, can you?
“Maybe,” you tease.
There’s a pause, but when Yoongi does speak his tone grows dark.
“You still haven’t learned, have you?”
You smirk. “I suppose I haven’t.”
“Well, then. I guess I’m coming over later.”
Shit.
If you didn’t think the restaurant would burn to the ground without your presence, you’d tell him to get his ass over here now. The mere thought of a repeat of last night has you clenching your thighs together.
No working late tonight. You’re sure it’ll be slow anyway.
“I guess you are.”
“I’m not being nice this time either,” he warns.
You bite your lip, trying to conceal your excitement, but you’re really bursting at the seams. You’re sure you’ll be anticipating his visit all day, letting your mind flood with scenarios. You decide to go ahead and taunt him some more, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.
“Good. Neither am I.”
He begins to speak but you end the call before he can get it out. 
As you stand in your living room giggling, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You remember he’d do the same to you after you’d complain about something silly. You’d be pissed, so the thought of him tasting his own medicine puts you in the lead on your imaginary scoreboard.
You’ve probably done a lot more that got on his nerves in the past, but who’s counting? It’s your job to push each other’s buttons and make up.
Isn’t that what friends are for?
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hope everyone enjoyed !!! let me know what you think !
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atlabeth · 2 months
Text
geyser
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.
a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song
wc: 6.5k
warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs
also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on
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Percy thought that his head might explode. 
He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 
At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.
All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 
“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 
“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 
“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 
Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 
“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 
“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 
“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 
“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 
Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”
Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 
But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 
The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 
His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.
There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 
Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”
That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 
“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”
“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 
“She did.” 
He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 
“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 
“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 
Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 
“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”
Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”
“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”
Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 
“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”
An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 
Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 
He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 
Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 
…Gods. 
Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 
-
“Luke—” 
“No!” 
“Luke, please!” 
“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 
“She won’t know!” 
“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 
Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 
“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 
“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 
“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 
“If you say a single word—” 
“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 
“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 
“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 
“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 
Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 
“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”
“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 
“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 
“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 
To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 
“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 
“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 
Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 
You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 
Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 
Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 
Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.
But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 
Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.
You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 
Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 
“Never better.” 
-
“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 
Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 
“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 
Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 
He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 
He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 
Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 
He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 
“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  
Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 
He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 
“I’m curious,” he decided. 
Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…
Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 
“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 
“And how it killed the cat?” 
He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 
“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 
Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 
“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 
He nodded. “Yeah.” 
“Who’s her parent?” 
Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 
“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 
Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 
He had a sister? 
“I have a sister?” 
“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 
A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 
He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 
Gods. 
“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 
Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 
One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 
“How did you meet her?” 
“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”
Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 
“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 
Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 
Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  
“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 
“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  
Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 
“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 
The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 
Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 
Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 
-
Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 
He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 
“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 
Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 
“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 
“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 
Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 
“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  
Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 
“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 
Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  
Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 
He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 
“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 
“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 
Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 
Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 
Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 
Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.
“A happier part, then,” he suggested.
“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 
In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 
A letter. 
“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 
Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 
So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 
To the one and only Luke Castellan, 
My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.
I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 
Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 
But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 
Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 
I can’t wait to see you again.
Your hurricane.  
It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 
Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 
“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 
Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 
“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 
“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”
Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 
I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 
“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”
Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 
He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 
Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 
“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 
Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 
“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 
He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 
“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 
-
After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 
Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 
Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 
“You’re awake,” she said. 
“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 
“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 
“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 
They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 
“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 
“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 
Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 
“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 
Annabeth went silent. 
“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 
“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 
“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 
Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 
That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 
“How did you meet her?” he asked. 
Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”
-
For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 
It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.
The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 
She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 
But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 
Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 
Where was Thalia? 
Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 
Thalia— 
“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 
“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 
Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 
“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 
Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?
You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 
“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 
“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 
“Annabeth!” 
Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 
“Luke, you’re hurt—” 
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 
“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 
Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 
When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 
“Luke?” you whispered. 
Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 
“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 
“My friends—” 
“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 
Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 
So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 
She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 
The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 
-
You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  
You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 
Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.
You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.
A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 
“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 
Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 
“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 
You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 
Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”
You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 
He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 
“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 
“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 
“You know what I mean.” 
Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 
“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 
“The usual,” you mumbled. 
“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 
You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 
“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 
“Bullseye.” 
“I’m sorry,” he said. 
You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 
“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 
“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 
Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 
“Yeah,” you murmured. 
You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 
That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 
“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 
“Just like old times,” you whispered. 
“Just like old times,” he agreed. 
Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 
There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 
How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 
Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 
“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 
And by the gods, you believed him. 
2K notes · View notes
juniperskye · 25 days
Text
Why are you in my head?
Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue
Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)
Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)
Fluff - Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Word count: 1364
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, let me know if I missed any!
That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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You had known all about soulmates, your mom had told you bedtime stories about soulmates and how she and your dad met throughout your entire childhood. They had been hearing one another’s thoughts for quite a while before your dad saved your mom from being run over by a biker as she stepped off the curb. She’d tell you how when their eyes met she could hear him thinking about how beautiful her eyes were and he heard her thinking about how handsome he was. You have hoped and dreamed of meeting your soulmate since you were four years old.
You had a soulmate, that much you knew. You had been hearing his thoughts for the last few years, they were few and far between which frustrated you. Your mom had explained it just meant he wasn’t close by, which sucked. You were hoping that the distance would decrease, given your family’s plans to move.
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Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t exactly a town that people were flocking to…but here you were. Your mom had been offered a job at their hospital there as the supervising nurse and your parents had decided it was too good an offer to pass up. Your dad had contacted the local police department to see if they had any openings, to which they asked for a letter of recommendation and pretty much offered him the job.
Things were working out well for your parents. You hadn’t really been sure about the move. Your soulmate’s thoughts had been pretty quiet the last few days but, a part of you knew it was because your anxiety of this move was clearly drowning out his thoughts.
The car finally came to a stop, and you glance up for the first time since you’d gotten in the car that morning, too focused on the music playing from your Walkman and rereading The Hobbit, again. You looked up to see a modest home in a cookie cutter neighborhood, you were grateful for your parents and their ability to provide you with the things you need, but some days you wished your family wasn’t so…average.
“Sweetie, why don’t you head in and pick your room?” Your mom suggested.
“Really? I get to choose?” You asked.
“You have your pick, other than the master bedroom. You and I will organize the remaining rooms.” Your mom explained.
Damnit, if I could just get the chords right.
You quickly jogged up to the door, letting yourself in. You made your way upstairs first, checking out the two small bedrooms up there that were situated opposite the master bedroom, separated by a full bathroom. While both rooms were nice, they didn’t give you nearly enough room to “express your creative freedom” as your mom had encouraged. On the main level there was a kitchen, dining room, sitting room, powder room, and living room. There had been a door leading under the stairs, you were pleased to see it led down into a fully finished basement that had a full bathroom.
“MOMMMMM! I chose my room!” You called as you ran up the stairs.
There we go.
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*Eddie’s POV*
Hell yeah! This is fucking perfect!
The thoughts had rung out like an alarm in his head. Her thoughts had never been this loud and clear. What had changed?
She better let me make the basement my room!
Had she finally moved? He had been hearing all her nervous thoughts about packing up and moving across the country. She must be closer now if her thoughts were coming in like this now.
YES! YES! YES! Now…how to decorate?
He smiled to himself. She seems sweet based off what he knows. He had asked Wayne about soulmates when he was growing up. He’d asked questions like “why can’t I just think of my address, so she could find me?” and Wayne had explained that it didn’t work like that. Thoughts were passed back and forth at moments it was needed – in times of excitement, or when we needed comfort, or to vent. There was some sort of neurological algorithm as to what thoughts were sent when.
*End Eddie’s POV*
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You had started unpacking pretty much the second your parents agreed to let you make the basement your room. Your dad had even agreed to take you to the hardware store to pick up paint this weekend.
“You’ll start at the high school on Monday. The principal confirmed that he received your transcripts and all your credit hours transferred, so you’re right on track.” Your dad explained.
“Oh, awesome! Did he happen to send my schedule or anything so I could familiarize myself with it beforehand?” You asked.
Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck! I am so late. O’Donnell is gonna kill me!
Your hand flew to your head, the volume of his thoughts brought forth a pounding in your head. They had never been this loud before.
“Bug? You okay?” Your dad looked concerned.
“Yeah, I’m okay! Just a headache. Too many thoughts in there I guess.” You chuckled lowly.
“Honey, was it his thought?” Your mom questioned.
You hadn’t told your parents much about your soulmate, only that you had been able to hear him and that he was, in fact, a him.  They had also been aware that you hadn’t been able to hear him lately – that was when your mom explained that your thought can sometimes drown out theirs.
“Yeah, it was and uh, I don’t know, I guess it was kinda loud.” You shrugged.
“How loud?” Your mom asked.
“I don’t know, loud enough to give me a headache. It was like he was in the room with me.” You looked at your parents, a knowing grin making its way onto each of their faces. “What?”
“Nothing bug. Let’s go see if your principle sent that schedule over.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.
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Monday morning had come way too soon, though you’d had an incredibly productive weekend. Your room was painted and decorated, you’d finished rereading The Hobbit and had begun rereading Pet Cemetery, you’d also memorized your class schedule.
Your dad dropped you off at school, he also told you he was planning to go and check out a car for you after his shift – that had left you pretty excited.
Finally! My own car!
The day was dragging on pretty slowly…truthfully you were ready for lunch.
Then Vecna will make a surprise return.
What the hell?
This campaign is going to be epic!
His thoughts had come and gone like this since you’d arrived in Hawkins. Just back and forth with random tidbits that left you more confused than anything.
The bell ringing had been your saving grace. It was finally time for lunch, and now you were feeling anxious again…where were you meant to sit?
You looked around and before you could take a step, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.
Here we fucking go.
“We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science ...or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...”
God he’s hot.
“It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!”
Assholes.
Kids were either laughing at his outburst or calling him horrible names, but you just stood there. Could this really be him? This super-hot guy who just caused an entire scene in the cafeteria.
“Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here…This year is different. This year is my year.”
He took a step back and bumped right into you, but before you could fall to the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up and against his chest.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
You both let out a quiet chuckle.
All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.
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686 notes · View notes
hhnguyen · 1 year
Text
life of a traitor
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I’m really sorry if this one seemed a bit messy, because I was trying to convey the feelings from multiple POV’s at the same time instead of just one. ps. i will drown in the Lo’ak x Tsireya ship. My OTP for life. 
♢ Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Oldest daughter!Reader, Lo’ak x Tsireya, Dad!Jake Sully x Lo’ak
♢ Word count: 4k 
♢ Genre: angst, family comfort - Warnings: cursing, Jake being a bad dad for once but we still love him 
⌲ Description: “You have shamed this family.” Words hurt and they sting. Yet you make sure your dad gets to feel that very pain in the wake of Lo’ak’s return. 
M A S T E R L I S T
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“The Sully boy has been found!”
“The oldest is with him! They’re both back!”
You were holding your breath, you realized, as the village got closer. The lit-up lanterns that seemed like mere specks of stars in the night from a distance not long ago now seemingly looming over you with intimidation for what was to come. Both of you were perched on the backs of the Metkayina warrior's mounts that had spotted the two swimming back into the reefs after sending the tulkun off. 
And with Atanzaw flying above your heads, shining in the dark with his bioluminescent marks, it was an easy spotting as an uproar had started. 
Your brother reached the dock first, thanking the one who helped as you followed up shortly after doing the same. 
As if as one, both yours and Lo’ak’s gaze locked onto Ao’nung standing at the very front beside his parents. He was silent, though you didn’t know if that was due to the aftermath of his scolding or guilt for nearly killing your brother.
For his sake, it better had been the latter. 
You merely stood back as Lo’ak was ready to pounce on the boy himself until your dad quickly intervened with raised hands of peace, and you could not stop the disappointed roll of your eyes. 
“Hey…” Jake was trying to make eye contact with him, but sensing how his youngest son was too busy death glaring at the Olo’eyktan’s heir it was a futile try. “Let’s have a look at you.”
“He’s fine, he’s fine. Just a few scratches,” your dad declared, obviously nervous and trying to appear calm. 
“Define fine,” you muttered, not bothering to be too discreet and catching both the eyes of Tonowari and Jake. 
Your mother was next, as she threw herself down on the lower ledge and grabbed Lo’ak by his shoulders, nails probably digging in uncomfortably for a short moment. There was clear distress for her child on her face, but also the aggravation of him getting into trouble again. A very familiar combination when it came to your baby brother, admittedly. 
You still made sure to be closer to him as you stepped up, shoulders just barely brushing your dad’s arm in passing and hovering a mere few inches behind. A silent shield to be used if needed. 
“I pray for the strength that I will not rip the eyeballs out of my youngest son!” She growled with a frustrated grab at his face - Lo’ak did nothing but lean away, face stone cold in all the chaos. 
His indifference was worrying you as you reached out to subtly hook your little pinky around his own. An action that only the two of you and Kiri could do with your extra fingers. His body didn’t reveal anything besides the slight twitch at the touch, but he didn’t pull away, and you took it as a good sign. 
For now. 
“No. My son knows better than to take him outside of the reef,” Tonowari pushed Ao’nung down to his knees by the back of his neck, a sight that gave you immense satisfaction as your lips curled up into a small smirk. “The blame is his.”
Your father was trying his best to de-escalate the situation, you knew that. And although you had a lot to say, things were going smoothly at this point, so they were held back. 
“Okay, let’s go,” Jake accepted it, urging Lo’ak to get a move on and you started to follow until the next words made you freeze in shock. 
“No. This is not Ao’nung’s fault. This was my idea.”
What the fuck was he doing?
Stupid, stupid boy!
Your heart was starting to pump, the disbelief at that flat-out lie from Lo’ak not making it any better. And you made sure to voice it. 
“Lo’ak!” Your hiss was hardly low in volume, or gentle in its approach. It was a harsh, aggressive sound that made several people look as you grabbed your youngest brother’s arm and pulled him to you. “What do you think you’re doing?!” 
You were pretty sure your nails were digging into his skin much more painfully than your mom’s did. 
But as the idiot that he was, he wrenched away from you and continued on as if you hadn’t spoken. “Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it. Really.”
Lie, lie, lies!
The word thundered in your head as you pinched your eyes shut with a rigid sigh. Your parents had so clearly lost their patience as your dad went up first, your mom grabbing Lo’ak either in anger or confusion. “Lo’ak!”
You weren’t sure of anything, to be honest. 
“I’m sorry,” he finally finished. 
“Come on,” Jake’s voice was sternly laced with exhaustion as you both followed him.  “I got this one.”
How many times hadn’t you heard that sentence? 
There was a tense moment of silence as your family walked away, but Tuk was absent you noticed. Which was a good thing in itself, supposedly. She didn’t need to see this ugly side of your family so young - there were certain moments for learning, whereas others would just create minimal trauma. Just like now. 
“Dad, you told me to make friends with these kids, that was what I was trying to do-”
“I don’t want to hear it.” 
You cautiously straightened up at the apparent held-back anger and glanced at your mom, hoping she might help to diffuse the situation. But her glare was still firmly settled on Lo’ak, as you licked your lips anxiously. 
This situation was not reached its peak yet, the comprehension of the current mood washing over you. 
“Dad…”
“You brought shame to this family.”
It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs and stones beings violently shoved in their stead, eyes widening at the horrible words your dad…no, Jake Sully just blatantly said to your brother. 
Because this was not the dad that you knew. 
How could he? 
Saying such words when Lo’ak was already struggling with himself. 
Couldn’t they see that? 
It was so clear, your confusion nearly befuddled you enough, but not quite.
Because your anger was there. Simmering, boiling - ready to erupt at any moment - because this wasn’t fair.
Your baby brother was being so strong. 
Oh, how his expression squeezed your heart almost painfully. The way his shoulders just only drooped before straightening back up and fists clenching as his cold mask slipped back over the hurt that had been there only for a single second. 
“Can I go now?”
Don’t go. Please, don’t go. 
“Any more trouble I’ll tie a knot in your tail, you read me?”
Stop.
“Yes sir.”
Just fucking stop.  
With a flick of his eyes, your dad dismissed Lo’ak like he was one of his soldiers, and as you tried to reach out for him, your baby brother ignored you with a visible lean away. 
An action that hurt you more than you realized until now. 
“Where were you?” Your mom spoke for the first time, turning to Neteyam. 
Someone that had nothing to do with this whole fiasco. 
“Yeah, what happened to keep an eye on your brother?” 
You spoke before he could. “Where were you?”
Both of your parents turned to look, identical frowns on their faces as they stared you down at your tone. But you would not budge at their intimidation. 
“Excuse me?”
“How could you?” 
“Y/N this is not the time for one of your tirades again.”
The disbelieving laugh that you let out was so out of character that even Kiri’s eyes widened warily. 
Your sister was someone who often silently observed those around you. And she knew that at this point there was no going back. You were clearly losing it. 
“Y/N…” Your mom noticed the same, sensing the seams of your sensibility started to fray at the edges as you and Jake were locked in a stare-down. 
You grinned widely, all teeth on show as your arms spread to the side. “You know what? Thank you for suggesting that dad! I would love to actually!”
Tirades were your favorite part time after all. 
His eyes narrowed dangerously, a finger hovering in the air as Jake hissed in a breath before muttering out harshly - his eyes flickering to the curious audience gathering at your volume. “Watch yourself, young lady.” 
“Why?” Your reply was all but spat out. “Are you embarrassed? Ashamed perhaps?”
“Y/N, you do not speak to your father like that!” Your mom’s voice snapped up, gaze hard with a hint of surprise which you assumed was due to your attitude. 
Admittedly a side that you had never shown before. Or at least managed to hold back in tense moments. 
“Why the hell not?!” your words were met by the gasps of Kiri and Neteyam at the audacity, but they were easily ignored as you whirled to look at your father. 
He had his lips peeled back in a mid-snarl, his animalistic side coming out to warn you of the hierarchy in this family.
“You always speak to us like that! Whenever your emotions are too much to handle and you lash out at us. You say it’s our fault all disguised under your excuse of being a worried parent!”
“Lo’ak is fourteen, dad!” Making sure you had his attention you stepped closer. “Four-teen. He’s fourteen and already thinks he’s a fucking failure - and do you wanna know why that is?” there was no pause in your words as you threw them at his face. “Because of you.”
“You do not get to talk to me this way, Y/N,” Jake was clenching his jaw to the point he was sure his teeth would shatter. “I am your father-”
“-what father tells their child they’re ashamed of them?” You offered him a bitter smile. “The one I know sure as hell doesn’t.”
“Your brother made his choice. These are the consequences that follow-” your dad was having a hard time holding back with the way his voice raised mid-sentence before forcefully stopping himself and releasing a breath. “-that follow along with his actions. I am trying to teach him a lesson.”
“Did you ask him?”
“What?”
“Did. You. Ask. Him?”
Jake sighed in frustration, his hands coming up to grasp at empty air. “What are you talking about?” 
“Did you even bother to ask your son whose fault this really was?” you weren’t interested in hearing his answer. “Do you even know your son? Because I do, and do you wanna know why again? Because I damn well pay attention!”
The laugh coming out of your dad made chills appear on your skin, but you were already far too deep in to turn back. Things were already fucked up, then why not cross the line a little more. 
“Okay then, you little smartass. Are you telling me I don’t care about my own kid?”
He thought he had you there.
 “Caring and knowing are two very different things.” This time you were the one who had him. Shutting down his own retort. 
“You say you love us. You say you care for us. But also that we worry you, and that we disappoint you. Fine - that’s fine dad. But you don’t get to say that we have shamed you.”
For once during this entire duration, you hesitated. 
Your next words were waiting on the tip of your tongue, heavy and loaded - something you didn’t want to say, but a part of you needed to let them out. To let your dad, or even Jake Sully, the former marine soldier hear them to his face from someone close to him.
To feel the same stabbing pain that Lo’ak most certainly did earlier. 
Your aggressive protectiveness came victorious. 
So you let them loose. 
“You don’t get to say that; because we’re not the ones who betrayed an entire race to be where we are.”
Jake stumbled back in shock as if those very words had shot him right in the chest and he couldn’t stop them. Stop the truth that they were covered in. 
It was like a pin dropped in the heavy silence that followed between the loose circle your family stood in. Your mother for the first time in her life since giving birth to you hissed in protectiveness over her mate - at her own daughter - your brother sprung to your side and twisted you away with a snarl of your name, in warning, not scolding. Whereas Kiri remained still, eerie gaze never leaving you.
However, you weren’t done. 
“Hurts doesn’t it?” your voice croaked as Jake’s eyes slowly raised to meet yours. “Words.”
You left without saying anything else.
+
Warm. Gentle. Comforting and so loving.
Tsireya’s hold on his hands was always a welcoming feeling. 
Her touch seemed to ground him more than he sometimes realized. A feeling that was unfamiliar to him mostly, and one that always reminded him of you. 
But right now, with the two of them sitting on a boulder on the edge of a patchy space of grass and gazing out into the star covered night together, it was a touch that calmed the stabbing hurt from earlier and made the night all more bearable. 
Lo’ak had no idea how many hours that passed since the chaos that had ensued after returning with you. His hearing basically stopped working after his dad’s true feelings had slapped him in the face with their words - that stung more than an actual slap would have. 
He would have rather taken that slap. 
“Are you okay?” Tsireya’s voice was soft and light, so sweet in its tone that he couldn’t even stop the small smile on his face after the tumultuous day. 
“I will be,” he admitted honestly. He would always be somewhat okay after a few days, that was the truth. 
The real question was if he would ever heal from it. That one he wasn’t so sure about. 
Lo’ak might not have been mistreated or even abused by his family. A minimum that was expected for a happy life. Because in a certain perspective, he was fortunate in the life that he did have. 
Two caring, protective parents. 
Four loving siblings. 
A grandmother for Tsahik. 
And a home. Kind off. 
Then why didn’t he feel fortunate?
“You can always rely on me, you know that right?” 
Eywa. How beautiful her large eyes looked staring up at him from her place, where her head was previously leaned on his shoulder. 
They were sparkling, he swore. The aquamarine color of them stood out even more in the darkness surrounding them. The bioluminescent lights of nature surrounding them made her all the more ethereal in his gaze.
So large and so loving and caring in the way they always looked at him. 
And not for the first time, Lo’ak found his own gaze wavering - flickering down lower on her face and to her lips, which were adorably pulled down in a slightly concerned pout for him. 
They might be young, just fourteen-year-old kids still growing. But he wasn’t stupid or ignorant at his age. He was well versed in romantic feelings and commitment to your partners, and how to cherish each other if the right one ever did appear. 
And his dad made good on his promise to teach them all about teenage hormones and urges, and how to control them in a respectful manner. To know when it was too early to start exploring what he wanted or not. 
Lo’ak wanted to kiss her. He knew that. It wasn’t a secret. 
But it was too early. And in the aftermath of his falling out with his parents, it seemed too…raw. 
He didn’t want to use someone he was growing to care more for each day as a way of making himself feel better. 
And Tsireya deserved better, being the kindhearted person she was. And he wasn’t quite there to give it to her yet. 
But one day, he hoped he would be. 
“Thank you,” was all he managed to say in reply offering a small tug of his lips as she stared at him for a moment longer before turning away, the clear tell of redness on the tip of her ears as she realized their proximity for the first time. 
He didn’t see a reason to tease her about it, not wanting to break the serenity that they were currently in. It was somewhat possible to block everything that happened. 
He did say somewhat. 
The rustling of bushes becoming louder made both of them straighten up and turn back, only to see Jake coming closer in a slow yet determined stride. 
Lo’ak felt his heart starting to beat faster, a sudden change from the steady calm it had managed to find in the last couple of hours. 
The reality was catching up to him again at the appearance of his father. 
Tsireya turned to look at him with her concerned wide eyes again, he didn’t manage to answer her before his dad had reached them - but Lo’ak didn’t expect to notice the nervous fiddle of his hands as Jake stopped only a few feet away. 
“Hey kids-” his pause was out of character. “Do you mind if I speak to my son a bit, Tsireya?”
As if Lo’ak couldn’t fall for the girl more than he already did. Because instead of letting the presence of his father and Toruk Makto completely intimidate her, she turned to him first; Silently asking if he wanted her to leave. 
Jake seemed to be surprised himself, although pleasantly so. He has been so used to everyone outside of his family doing most things at his beck and call, both as a clan leader and war hero. He had clearly underestimated the relationship between the two young teens in front of him. 
Tsireya stood to leave quickly at the assuring nod of Lo’ak, before parting with a polite smile in Jake’s direction and going back to the village with one last look over her shoulder. 
There was a moment of complete stillness before Jake came and sat down on the space previously occupied next to Lo’ak. The boy didn’t even bother to acknowledge his father, simply staring out at the lapping water, shoulders hunched over. 
His two braids on the side of his face felt like the only shield to cover him as he let them hang, avoiding eye contact firmly. 
Jake let out a heavy sigh, having already expected the cold behavior of his youngest son. 
He didn’t blame him either. 
He had acted like a grade-A asshole, with the biggest A to exist in the universe. And towards his own child too. 
Jake Sully has never claimed parenthood to be easy in any way. It was a hard, taxing journey that he obviously was still trying to learn from. It was a road that never stopped no matter how old his kids got. He would always be a father, but he’s admittedly been a shit one as of late. 
And that wasn’t only according to you. 
Your words had hurt. Like a damn punch to his face. Or ten. 
That was true - Neytiri knew it too. And that made him think and regret. If those words stung him as they did, how much had he hurt his own kid by saying something he didn’t even mean?
Not really at least. 
Jake had been angry at the moment. Pissed off, to be honest. But it was also the overwhelming worry of his kid’s disappearance that made him act out. But it was no excuse for anything he had said.
You were still avoiding him. Well, ignoring is more like it. Which was even worse. Besides your siblings, you were actively shutting out the presence of both him and Neytiri despite their tries in the last few hours to speak. 
Kiri was the one to voice out your thoughts. “She won’t speak unless Lo’ak forgives you first.”
Was it strange that Jake was still proud of you? You owned the same pride he did as a young marine and his first moments on Pandora. 
An unyielding pride that often got him in trouble. 
But for you, it was a pride that protected your siblings even against your own parents. 
“You know, sometimes I think you deserve a better dad.”
Lo’ak didn’t reply, but the shift in his body assured Jake that he was paying attention. 
“I never wanted kids. Never even thought of having them until I met your mother. The world was already shitty enough as it was, so I didn’t see a point in bringing new life into it. And after my injury, that thought cemented.”
“Well, I’m sorry for ending up being your kid,” his low mutter was an inner thought not ever planning to see the light of day. Especially in front of the man himself. But he couldn’t stop himself. 
Jake let out a shuddering breath, finally realizing how deep this…trauma his youngest son was experiencing. And you had been right again; it was all his fault. 
“No, no Lo’ak,” moving closer, his son didn’t resist as he gently grabbed the back of his nape to push their foreheads together. 
Despite his bitter words, his body still relaxed at the comforting feeling. Because it was obvious - even after everything, he still loved his dad. Still craved the comforts of his protective touches, and his overpowering hugs that were rare but much needed whenever offered. 
“I’m sorry, son,” Jake whispered, eyes clenched shut and voice wavering with tears. “I have not been the father you needed since the war started, I know that now. I will try to improve, and I can’t promise I won’t fuck up further in the coming days, but I will never not love you.”
“Dad…”
Lo’ak wanted to cry. 
And in the protective embrace of his dad, he did. He let those long held tears flow loose, dripping down his cheeks and starting to obscure his vision as his breath started to heave at the force of it all. 
“What I said wasn’t true. I am proud of the man you’re starting to grow into, and you have never shamed this family. I am the one who should be ashamed, never you.” 
“I-I am sorry-”
“Stop saying sorry,” Jake demanded pulling his son closer. “Your sister was right. My burdens should not fall on your shoulders. You’re still young and deserve to be a child, not a soldier. So I am sorry.”
Pressing his lips against the crown on his youngest boy’s head, Jake only held him as his silent tears turned into soft sobs. All the pain and hurt that he had bottled up because of him, finally being lifted off his young shoulders that should have never been born them to begin with. 
“Will you ever forgive your old man of his faults?” His dad asked after several minutes he finished crying, his deep voice hoarse with nerves. 
Lo’ak had no idea how long his meltdown lasted, only letting out everything in the presence of his dad without restraint until he had no more tears left. It could have been five minutes or ten. Who knew at this point? 
“You’re my dad…” he had whispered in return. “I will always forgive you.”
There was a thankful smile on Jake’s face, wrinkles crinkling in the corners of his wet eyes. “Then you’re a far better person than I have ever been. Thank you.”
He swallowed, and for the first time in a while, his next words had never been more genuine than at this moment. 
“I love you, dad.”
There was a firm, warm squeeze around his body at hearing that. 
“God, I love you too, kiddo. So much you don’t even know.”
Maybe he’d been mistaken after all. 
Lo’ak doubted this would be the end of their turmoils because life came with them. It was just how it was; parents get angry at their kids, siblings get angry at each other and vice versa. 
It was expected, but at least from now on he would be assured of his parents’ love for him, and their presence would be constant and there whenever he would need them despite their own faults as people.
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Updates will unfortunately be a bit slow moving forward. My 3rd semester has started and I’ve started to prepare for my MA thesis + 4 classes, so my days are packed 🥲
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billyloomiswhore4 · 1 year
Text
Dark Habits | Billy and Stu x Reader
Warnings: petnames, (babe by stu, and baby by billy) Smut, consensual but not very safe, cheating, knife play, consensual cutting of the reader by the boys, fear play, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving). P in V, pussy slapping
anonymous asked:
I really liked your POV from the last ask, and I got inspired with a smut request from it if you're interested
Reader is Billy and Stu's childhood friend. She was there when they started having this sick fascination with gore and death and even "hardcore" interest when puberty hit them, making her end up being their "friends with benefits ", she isn't aware of their plan so when  they got Tatum and Sydney as girlfriends she expected them to stop thier secret relationship but they still came back to her even though she knows it's bad to cheat, but they come back to her not only because they are obsessed with her and love her but also because she is the only woman who can handle thier Dark sexual habits, the fear with billy  and the inflicting pain with stu.
a/n: im still struggling to figure out whats wrong with me but i felt bad for not posting, so i found this is my drafts and rushed to finish it up so im sorry if the end sucks its also not edited to again im sorry.
-
You’ve been their friend since before you can remember. You were there for everything. When their obsession with horror movies grew stronger. When your play fights got a little too rough, and they seemed to enjoy your fighting a little too much. 
The first instance you could remember was when you were eleven years old. Billy and Stu were twelve. You had found a movie in your older siblings room.  You can’t remember the title now but what you do remember was when it started, and got right off into the murder. It was intense, it looked a little too real but stu still complained about how blood wasn’t really that color. He’d been hunting plenty of times with his dad, when he was home, and knew what blood and insides looked like. 
Billy though, was a different story. He seemed entranced, and even licked his lips at a close up of the victims face as she was being murdered. 
Stu was ecstatic that he found a good movie that he hadn’t seen. They both loved it, maybe a little too much and that’s probably why the memory stuck with you. 
The memories only got more and more intense from that one. The next instance was when you were fourteen. You were in the living room of Stu’s house, Billy sitting on the couch, and you and Stu were wrestling on the floor. He eventually got you down, your hands pinned above your head. He was squeezing your wrists a little too tight, and you winced. He grinned at this, and squeezed tighter.
“Ow Stu that hurts,” You whined, attempting to kick him off you. Billy’s attention was now on you and Stu, and Stu’s grin only widened. When he squeezed even tighter, fear flashed across your face. Billy had a frown on his face, but his eyes shone with something you’d never seen before. 
“Stu, seriously that hurts.” You were serious now, and he quickly snapped out of it, letting you go and helping you up off the ground. 
That moment you knew something was off about your best friends. It freaked you out a bit, the way Stu smiled at your pained sounds and Billy’s eyes when he realized you were afraid. 
That wasn’t the last incident. But as you grew older, and learned more about your sexual desires, you realized you weren’t like other people. When watching movies with Stu and Billy, you often found yourself watching intently as the killer would tease their victim with the knife, dragging it across their chest or arm just to see them squirm. You wondered what it would feel like, what it would be like to be so afraid and at someone's mercy. 
You let it slip before you could even think. 
“I wonder what that would be like.” You immediately grew red. Both Stu and Billy looked at you, staring intently.
“Wanna try it?” Stu asked all of the sudden. Billy smacked him on the shoulder.
“You can’t just ask that, fuckrag.” Billy seemed a bit angry at Stu for suggesting it. 
“I mean..” You trailed off, eyes pointing towards the screen in front of you. 
“Wait, you’d actually want to?” Billy was shocked. And you tried to subtly rub your thighs together. Stu’s hand suddenly met your thigh, and you jumped, not expecting him to notice your minuscule movements. 
“I think she wants it, Billy.” Stu’s cheshire grin was wider than you’d ever seen it before, and his eyes met Billy’s. They exchanged looks and it was all history. 
That night changed your life. You’d laid down in Stu’s bed, and he brandished a pocket knife from his pocket. He trailed it from your collarbone and down to your thigh. You tried to hide how hot the cold metal against your skin made you feel.  When he cut your shirt off, you’d gasped. Billy stared at your face, watching your eyes change from fear, to excitement to fear again. God did he enjoy it. 
That started something between the three of you. You were in a sort of “friends with benefits” situation, though you never really clarified anything. It was heaven while it lasted, but soon Billy got with Sidney, and Stu started dating Tatum. You assumed the situationship was over, but how wrong you were. 
You're sitting on your bed, it must be around midnight. There’s a tapping against your window. You don’t normally lock it, because before Sidney and Tatum, they liked to sneak in through your window. It added a certain fear into the situation, you never knew when they planned to bust into your room and take you as they pleased.
 When they started dating the girls, you started locking it, worried that anyone could take advantage of your unlocked window. You assume the tapping sound was just the wind, but it got quicker in succession. So you stand, and walk to the window, looking out. You’re met with a disheveled looking Stu, and a frustrated looking Billy. You unlock and slide open the window. 
“What are you guys doing here!” You whisper-yell at them, your arm resting against the healing marks underneath your clothes. Stu shoves you aside and makes his way into your room, Billy follows. 
“We wanted to see you, duh.” Stu grins at you and Billy smirks with a look you know all too well.
“No, no,” You pause, watching them. “You’re with Sidney and Tatum. We can’t.” You insist. 
Billy puts a frustrated hand through his hair, and you look at him, realizing that he’s hard in his jeans. 
“There’s this whole thing…” Stu trails off.
“What, Stu?”
“Well- I was with Tatum. And we were gettin- y’know.” He makes a gesture that tells you that they were fucking. 
You raise an eyebrow, your chest tightening at the thought of him and Tatum together. “When- uh. We were doing it, all I could think about was you, and how you look underneath me with my knife to your chest.” Stu’s hands make contact with your throat, his thumb resting right on your pulse point. Your heart beats faster at his confession, and you're sure he can feel it. 
“Oh,” Your eyes flutter closed, and you take a sharp inhale of breath. 
“We want you, Baby,” Billy’s voice is pleading. “Just forget about the girls, just for tonight.”
“You’re the only one who understands us, who will take everything we give you and thank us for it.” Stu stops to take a deep breath. “We love you, more than anything..or anyone”
You give in allowing Stu’s lips to connect with your own. Billy moves, removing his shirt as Stu backs you up towards the bed. The back of your knees connect with it, and Stu pushes you to fall onto the softness. He gets out of the way, allowing Billy to crawl in between your legs. 
HIs lips meet yours and his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You don’t open, you know how much he likes it when you resist. His hand comes to your jaw, pressing his fingers in between the joints and your mouth opens. He slips his tongue inside, wrestling yours. 
You don’t even notice as Stu pulls off his shirt, and pulls out the pocket knife he knows to keep in his pocket when he’s coming to see you.
Billy’s lips leave yours to grip the hem of your shirt and pull it up and over your head.The bandages across your hip come off next. Billy moves to pull off your pants and Stu straddles your thighs, pressing the knife against the skin of your other non-marked hip. 
You hiss when he presses down, the knife cutting the skin of your hip. He groans when blood bubbles up to the surface, and he uses his thumb to smear it across the skin. He makes another one, quick but thin and leans down to lick it softly. Billy’s lips meet your neck, sucking harshly against the soft, supple skin.
Billy moves away from your neck and switches places with Stu. He quickly makes work of pulling down your underwear. Billy throws your legs over his shoulders and dives in, eating you out like it’s his last meal. He laps at your clit, his pointer finger going to your hole, and pushing inside you. 
Suddenly, Stu is pressing the knife against your neck, and you quake in fear. Your thighs shake with stimulation as Billy looks at you through his lashes from between your thighs. 
Stu shushes you when you open your mouth to speak, and trails the knife from your throat down between your breasts. He continues moving the knife down, and then he makes a particularly deep cut across your stomach. 
It shocks you, he’s never done that before. Always in one spot so it’s easier to hide, and never that deep so it doesn’t scar as badly. This time, he’s trying to mark you, claim you as his. Because even if he has Tatum, he still wants you.
Billy stops completely, making you whine at the loss. He shimmies out of his pants and boxers, leaving him completely bare in front of you. He crawls between your legs, sitting back on his heels and pulling you against him. Your legs go over his hips, your cunt pressing against his hard cock. 
Stu pulls off his pants and boxers as well, grabbing his cock and pressing it to your lips. You open up, allowing him to slip it in your mouth.
“Good girl..” he groans as his dick is wrapped in the warmth of your mouth. Billy gets jealous, as you’re staring into Stu’s eyes, seemingly forgetting about him. So he slams into you, making you moan around Stu’s cock. 
“F-fuck,” Stu stutters, moaning as you work your tongue around him. 
Billy pushes into you with quick, hard thrusts. You whine in pain as Stu’s fingers wrap in your hair, and he pulls on it, hard. Billy’s fingers slip down to play with your clit, before he pulls out completely, laying a quick smack against your cunt and then slipping back inside you. You moan in pain and pleasure, the sound vibrating against Stu’s cock.
 He groans softly, shallowly thrusting into your mouth. He pulls out, with a pop sound. He strokes himself in front of your face for a moment, and then pushes back into your mouth. 
Billy twitches inside you, rubbing your clit with his thumb. He thrust into you even harder, while you hollow your cheeks around Stu’s cock. Stu quickly falls apart, twitching inside your mouth and then releasing his spend. He grips your jaw, pulling out while Billy continues. 
Stu pries open your jaw, and looks at the white substance as it trickles down your chin. He pushes your jaw shut. 
“Swallow.” You obey, and then open your mouth to show him. 
Billy falls apart quickly after, pulling out and cumming on your pussy. 
They both fall on seperate sides of you, laying there. They pull you into their arms, and Stu closes his eyes. 
Billy laughs, watching how quickly Stu falls back into the same old routine. 
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amoreva · 3 months
Note
yes i’m so glad you’re writing for clarisse because im obsessed with your writing.
could you write something with reader being a really confident and vain daughter of aphrodite who channels her mothers war goddess attributes and is one of the best sword fighter in camp? also playful teasing from reader and sparring because 1 i need justice for the massacre of aphrodites character and 2 clarisse x aphrodite!reader is essential to my life force. haters can hate.
maybe also show how other campers interact with her as well, like luke showing percy around idk
LOVER AND A WARRIOR
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pairing: clarisse la rue x daughter of aphrodite!reader
summary: clarisse has always been a hard hitter and a tough lover, but a certain someone from aphrodite makes her soft. and she doesn’t entirely mind it.
warnings: use of “y/n” once or twice, kinda switches to percy’s pov, fighting, almost death(?), fluff, mentions of beckendorf!!
a/n: i really hope i did this request right! enjoy! i was trying to crank this out as soon as i could.
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Everyone thought you’d be claim by Ares (even though your dad was still very present and not a god) or at least by Athena. You were smart and a hell of a lot strong; both mentally and physically.
So it came to a surprise when Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, claimed you.
Though, Clarisse knew you were her daughter. You were every bit of passionate: about life, hobbies, interests, her. You paid attention to every little detail that flew out of her mouth (she noticed).
It didn’t help that you channeled your mother’s past title and abilities. After all, in Sparta, she was known as Aphrodite Aeria, “Aphrodite the Warlike”.
Clarisse was head over heels for you the minute she saw you fight (you even bested Luke, how was she not supposed to not fall in love with you?)
You and Clarisse started dating at the peak of the Summer Solstice and never looked back. No one knew Clarisse could be so…tolerating to someone outside of her cabin, especially to one of Aphrodite’s daughter.
Percy surely didn’t expect it either.
Clarisse was so callous and you were compassionate. He guessed that thing about opposites attract was true.
“Look, you want attention here, dummy?” Clarisse spoke condescendingly to the newest camper. She just couldn’t believe a scrawny kid took down the Minotaur. “You better be ready for it when it comes.”
Clarisse made Percy flinch and walked past Hermes’ kids. An amused smile plastered on her face. Luke shook his head as Ares’ kids passed which begged the question. “Why don’t they mess with you?” Percy asked.
“They know better.” Luke smirked.
“Luke’s the second strongest swordsman in camp.” Chris added with a proud grin.
“Who’s the first?”
“Y/N.”
Suddenly, you walked by in perfect timing. Percy’s eyes glued to you. You witnessed the whole situation and went to talk to your girlfriend. “Clarisse…” You muttered.
Percy watched Ares’ daughter soften at the mention of her name from your lips. Nothing in the facial expressions, it was all in the eyes.
“She doesn’t look menacing or intimidating—” Percy acknowledged.
“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Luke reminded as he glanced back at you and Clarisse. “Got my ass handed to me when I sparred with her.”
Percy looked at Luke. “Really? Can I train with her?”
•••
It wasn’t odd to find Clarisse in Aphrodite’s cabin; nor was it odd to find the two of you cuddling on your bunk. Sunlight beaming onto the two of you and the only sounds were the campers outside. All of your siblings when do go enjoy camp activities while you read to Clarisse.
Ancient Greek flows from your mouth like the water from River Styx. Clarisse had one arm haphazardly thrown across your abdomen. Her head perched on your shoulder.
Silently, she admired the way your lips moved. The way you were invested into the story. The way she can see all the tiny details on your gorgeous face from this position.
Clarisse found herself falling for you more and more with each second of the day. She was aggressive and intimidating. She was Ares’ favorite daughter after all, but she found herself becoming more softhearted to you.
“You’re my…everything.” Clarisse whispered fondly. It might’ve been a slip of the tongue, but it made you blush.
She never failed to make you blush. Your rosy cheeks complimented with a sheepish grin. “Clarisse…” You mumbled and put down the book.
“I mean it.” Clarisse stated firmly and sat up on her elbow. Her heart locket fell from her orange Camp t-shirt. It matched yours, except you had a sword charm. Clarisse insisted on giving it to you (after threatening Beckendorf once or twice) for your two month anniversary.
“I know.” You reassured and pecked her lips quickly. Clarisse smiled and dived back in to press her lips into yours
A giggle erupted from you. A rush of dopamine intoxicating your brain. It always felt like the first kiss with her. “I love you, I love you, I love you—” You repeated into her lips.
“I get it, lovergirl.” Clarisse chuckled as she pulled away. Her cheek tinged with pink. “I love you too.”
She continued. “Will you keep reading? You sound so beautiful when you read—”
“Clarisse!” You exclaimed. Your blush even more prominent.
“What? I can’t tell my girlfriend she has a voice from the sirens that could bring the Big Three to tears?”
“Clarisse…”
“Keep reading, lovergirl.”
•••
“This is safe, right?” Percy asked Grover.
“Yeah! Perfectly safe.” Grover reassured with a smile.
Luke had recruited you to help train Percy (Clarisse just so happened to tag along). There were swords in all of your hands. You were going to fight Clarisse and Luke and Percy doubted you were that good.
It was all to help Percy learn more about fighting with the sword and a great way to show off. The forest clearing gave enough room to really show your talents in combat.
“Don’t go easy on me!” You yelled at Clarisse and Luke on the other side of the clearing. Percy and Grover were sitting on rather large rocks anticipating the battle.
You took a deep breath and your eyes hardened. It was like switched had been flipped within you. You shifted your foot, sliding it in the dirt. The air felt different. Tense, sharp, lung-crushing.
Clarisse and Luke tightened their grip on their swords and gave each other a confirming nod. Percy and Grover watched as the three older half-bloods charged one another.
With precision and quick-wit, you were able to keep Clarisse and Luke on their toes. Luke shifted his weight in his feet before charging you again. You clashed swords. Celestial Bronze against Celestial Bronze.
Your ears perked up on shoes slapping against the dirt. You ducked causing Clarisse to swing at Luke. There was no trace of a your warm sweet smile Percy saw, only your hardened gaze.
It was kind of scary to see Aphrodite’s daughter switch up so fast.
Clarisse cursed under her and swiped her sword as if flicking off imaginary blood. She met your gaze, her heart skipped a beat. She rushed you again and swiped your legs. You jumped back with the grace of a swan, but Clarisse parried her sword immediately after.
You riposted Clarisse when Luke cane out from behind Clarisse to continue an onslaught of attacks. You scoffed quietly, but you could never complain. It was a good workout.
Yet, a particularly heavy swing from you knocked Luke’s sword from out of his hand. His sword flinging at Percy’s head. Percy shouted and ducked.
“Oh my gods!” You exclaimed and slapped your heads over your mouth in surprise.
Clarisse and Luke stopped their attacks and looked back at Percy and Grover. Luke’s celestial bronze sword was sticking out of a tree. Percy centimeters away from the blade.
You apologized for your reckless behavior. Percy was more scared of how fast you switched from your focused nature to a worried attitude.
“It’s okay…” Percy laughed nervously.
“He said he was fine!” Clarisse called out and walked towards you, pressing a small kiss to your cheek.
“Sorry, Percy.” Luke apologized.
“A lover and a fighter. Got it.” Percy noted in his mind as you complained to Clarisse about feeling bad about impaling Percy.
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529 notes · View notes
drudyslut · 2 months
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— summary: Rafe Cameron. Your toxic ex boyfriend who can’t seem to let you go. Even your best attempt at fighting him off, telling him no, he comes back. He won’t let you go.
— CW: 18+ only! toxic!ex bf!rafe, dark!rafe, violence, kidnapping, strong language, cocaine use, fingering, choking, marking, unprotected sex, breeding kink.
— a/n: this is a work of fiction. i do not condone anything written. this will all be in rafe’s pov. enjoy🖤
likes, comments and reblogs aren’t expected but are very appreciated <3
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❥ toxic — r.c
I always knew something was wrong with me. It started when my mom died. My mind just went… Dark.
My life had started taking a really dark turn. And for a while, I could control my dark tendencies, I could control the darkness that ate away at my mind. But, the older I got, the harder it became to control that darkness inside me.
For as long as I could remember, my dad always hated me. He fucking hated me, and there was nothing I could do to change that. He only cared about Sarah, my younger sister. From the moment she was born, all of his love and attention went to her. Like she was something fucking special, like she hung the fucking moon. I was left to care for myself, pick myself back up when I fell. My dad still financially supported me, — even though he wished he didn’t have too — so at least I still had that going for me.
But he didn’t love me. No, he wished I had been a stain on the bedsheets, wished I had been wiped away with a fucking warm washcloth after the deed was done. But that wasn’t the case, obviously. I was born. And I was here. And he fucking hated that.
I stopped believing in love at a very young age. Fucked up, right? What kid doesn’t believe in love? What kid doesn’t believe that someone is capable of loving him? If you didn’t already know the answer to that, it’s me. At least, it was me.
The idea of loving someone and being loved crept back into my life when I was eighteen. When she came into my life. I loved her the best I knew how, which, wasn’t really saying anything. I didn’t know how to fucking love someone, so… I hurt her. I hurt her in every way possible…
… And when she finally walked away from me, telling me that she “deserved better”, I fucking lost it. I lost the only fucking person in this world who mattered to me. The only person who tried to love even the darkest parts of me. I fucking lost her.
But her walking away from me. From us. Wasn’t going to stop me. No, she was fucking mine. And I was going to get her back, even if I had to force my way back into her life, she would come back to me.
“Rafe, are you sure about this?” Topper asks, pulling me from my own mind.
I shake my head, dragging my eyes up to find Topper’s intense stare. His eyes narrow into small slits, eyebrows raising as he tries to read my face. I blink. Once. Twice. “What?” I ask, completely confused.
“Are you sure you wanna do this shit, man? Y/N will never fucking forgive you, and you know…”
“I don’t fucking care, Top! She’s mine, and she needs to be fucking reminded of that!” I snap. My fists are now balled up at my sides, chest heaving up and down and nostrils flared as thoughts of her begin to fill my mind.
Topper throws his hands up in surrender. “Whatever, bro. Not my problem.”
I smile, but it holds no amusement. No happiness. It’s a cold smile. “Exactly. Not your problem. Now cut that shit up, I need one more line before I head out.”
Topper sighs, but does as I ask. He leans forward, grabbing my black Amex off the glass table and begins cutting a new set of lines for the two of us. I chew at the skin around my thumb nail as I watch him create four perfectly straight lines out of the white powdery substance.
Once he finishes, I shove his shoulder to the side, allowing me access to the table. I snatch the already rolled hundred dollar bill off of the glass, rolling it a little tighter and placing one end to my right nostril. I lean forward, sticking the other end of the bill onto one of the four lines and snort the powder up into my nose. I quickly do my second line before tossing the bill back onto the table and falling back into the couch, squeezing my eyes shut and letting out a loud sigh. The drug burns my nose and throat, but the numbing sensation that comes from the cocaine quickly replaces that burn. My nose, throat, and tongue are numb, but my entire body feels like it’s on fire, a new surge of adrenaline pumping into my veins and making me ready to do what I must do tonight.
I stand from my spot on the couch, glancing down at Topper once more before heading for the door. His concerned voice stops me in my tracks. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, man. She’s going to hate you after tonight”
I snort. I don’t give a fuck if she hates me. She’s mine, and she needs to be reminded of that. She can’t hate me more than she already does. Or maybe she can, I don’t know. If I have anything to say about it though, she won’t hate me. No, she’ll love me again. I’ll make sure she loves me.
“Maybe. But she can’t hate me forever. She will love me again.”
I walk out the door, slamming it shut behind me before Topper can even open his mouth to ramble off anymore bullshit. I didn’t care to hear it. I didn’t care about his opinion. I was doing this.
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I sit outside of her work. Watching. Waiting. I know she’ll be off any minute now, I used to pick her up every night when we were together. My girl doesn’t have a car, so I already know she’ll probably be leaving with one of her coworkers, but that won’t stray my plan. It’ll only make it more interesting. More fun.
My phone goes off in my pocket, letting me know I have a text. Pulling it out, I glare down at the words on the screen.
Ward: Where the fuck are you Rafe? Tonight was fucking important and you’re fucking everything up. I don’t even know why i’m surprised, you’re nothing but a walking fuck up.
I growl, angrily tossing my phone into the passenger side floorboard. Fuck my dad. And fuck the business deal that he so badly needed me at tonight. He doesn’t give a fuck about anything other than money and Sarah. So naturally, I’m putting what I want first. And what I want is Y/N. I don’t give a fuck about anything else.
The sound of her laughter filters in through my cracked window, making me sit up straight in my seat. One glance out the windshield and I see her. She looks as gorgeous as I remember. And her laugh, fuck, it has my cock growing in my pants, straining against the harsh fabric of my boxers and jeans. I adjust myself, and shake my head a few times. I need to focus. My eyes travel to the left of her. My fists automatically ball themselves by my sides when I see her walking and talking with Pope. I fucking hate that pogue. I hate all pogues. Except for her. She will always be the exception.
He stands too close to her for my liking, and it makes my blood boil. Tossing a part of my plan out the window, I shove my door open and march my way toward them. She’s in the middle of talking when Pope’s wide eyes have her audibly clamping her mouth shut.
“Pope, what is- Rafe.” She says softly, her breathing picking up now that I’m right in front of her.
“Baby girl.” I reply, a slow smile spreading across my face.
“Don’t- Don’t call me that, Rafe. We’re not together anymore.”
My jaw tightens at her words, nostrils flaring as I try and keep my composure. I don’t need to lash out just yet. I need to keep my calm, for now.
I ignore her and turn my attention toward Pope. “Heyward. Get the fuck out of here.” I say simply. It’s as simple as that. He can leave, or I can beat the shit out of him. The choice is his.
He glares at me, his eyes narrowed into slits and his breathing calm. Seems like the kid grew a pair of balls in the last thirty seconds. He opens his mouth to speak, but my fist connecting with his nose cuts off whatever bullshit he was about to say.
“Rafe! What the fuck?!” Y/N shouts, dropping to her knees and checking on the boy that’s now laid out on the ground, blood pouring from his probably broken nose.
“Get up, Y/N. We’re leaving”
Her neck snaps in my direction so fast, eyes narrowed. “I’m not fucking going anywhere with you! Fucking leave me alone, Rafe!”
I roll my neck from side to side before taking a step toward her. “You can either come with me willingly, or I can make you come with me. Your call, baby girl.”
The look in her eyes has me straining in my jeans. She’s so fucking sexy when she’s mad. She looks down at Pope, he’s groaning and holding his nose as blood continues to pour from it.
“Y/N! Now!” I shout. My patience is growing thin. And she’s not going to like it if I have to force her to come with me. I want her to make at least one choice on her own tonight.
She slowly stands, but Pope grabbing at her hand has her stopping halfway up. I fist my hands, ready to fucking hit him again if needed.
“Y/N… Don’t go with him…” Pope says softly. I chuckle at that. He thinks she has a choice in the matter. The only choice she has is to willingly come. And even now, I have a feeling she’s going to opt out of that choice.
She glances between him and me, and I can see the gears turning in her head. She’s thinking of running. Go for it, baby. I’ve planned for her running. As if she can read my thoughts, she yanks her hand from his grip and turns as fast as she can. She takes off running down the empty street, but I’m right on her heels.
“Keep running baby, you know I love it when you run!”
She looks behind her shoulder, a look of pure fear in her eyes. When she puts her focus back on what’s in front of her I pick up my speed. Once I’m directly behind her, I wrap my right arm around her waist and yank her back into my front. She begins kicking and screaming, her nails clawing into my arm. “Rafe! Put me down!” She shouts, and I just laugh.
“Baby girl, you know I can’t do that.”
I carry her back to my truck, opening the back door and tossing her inside. I jog around to the driver side, glancing over to where she and Pope walked out of and noticing he’s gone. Oh well. Not my problem. My dad will get me out of whatever he tries to throw my way. I climb inside the truck, locking the doors and bringing the engine to life. I glance into the back seat to find her sitting up right, and she’s seething. Anger flashes through her beautiful eyes, her chest is heaving up and down and nostrils flaring as she glares at me.
“Fuck you, Rafe! What the fuck do you want?!”
I smirk. “You.” I answer simply, and her eyes go wide.
It’s as simple as that. I want her. And she is going to want me again, even if it takes days, months, years. She will want me again.
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“Rafe, put me the fuck down! I can fucking walk!” She shouts. Her small fists are pounding into my back. I have her tossed over my shoulder, walking up the stairs of the porch and into the front door of Tannyhill.
Once inside, I finally set her down on her feet and she scrambles away from me. I laugh, she thinks she can escape me, but she can’t. She never will. She’s mine to own. To fuck. To control. She’s mine.
“You know, it hurts my feelings how scared of me you are, baby girl.”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you fucking serious? You just basically kidnapped me, Rafe! You’re fucking insane!”
I let out a breathy laugh. “I am insane. But only for you. Because of you. I fucking love you, Y/N. Why can’t you see that?”
She scoffs. “You don’t love me. You want to fucking own me, like I’m your fucking property or some shit. I’m not! I’m a human fucking being, Rafe!”
I love the fight she has in her. I always have. Just not when she’s fighting me. Against me. She’ll learn soon enough that I am the scariest part of her life. I’m her biggest threat. But I will also protect her. She needs to be protected from everyone but me. She fucking needs me.
“This can go one of two ways, sweetheart. One. You can willingly come upstairs with me, and let me fuck that attitude out of you, let me remind you who the fuck you belong to. Or two. I can drag your ass up those stairs by your hair and remind you who the fuck you belong to. Either way, you’re going to be begging for my cock by the end of the night.”
I don’t miss how her nipples harden at my words. She still wants me. When she notices my eyes on her now hard nipples she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms across her chest, causing me to smirk in amusement and arch a brow.
“I don’t fucking belong to you, Rafe! God, you’re fucking crazy! Go to hell!”
A smile spreads across my face at her words. “Sweetheart, I am hell.”
Her breath hitches in her throat and her arms drop to her sides. I take a step toward her, causing her to take one back. I roll my eyes, taking one long step toward her and closing the distance between us. I wrap my right arm around her waist, pulling her flush into my body. I lean my head down, breathing in her intoxicating scent before my lips brush against the shell of her ear, I whisper, “You wanna do things my way? I’ll take you right here. Right now. Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I’m not against letting anyone see me claim what’s mine.”
I feel her body tense in my hold, and it only makes my smile grow. She’s scared of me. But that’s expected. For now. After I’m done with her, she’ll be begging for more. She won’t want to let me go. She’ll be mine, just like I am hers.
“Rafe-” She breathes out, but I cut her off. I smash my lips against hers in a breathtaking, aggressive kiss. She involuntarily moans against my mouth, allowing me to force my tongue into her mouth. She melts into me, her body going slack in my hold as she allows my tongue to explore her mouth, brushing against hers. God I fucking missed her. The taste of her.
She snaps her eyes open, pushing me back, and I’m so fucking weak from the kiss that I don’t fight it. I stumble back a little before straightening myself. She has her eyes narrowed and her tiny fists balled at her sides.
“Fuck you, Rafe! Stop trying to get into my head! I- I fucking can’t keep doing this with you!”
She tries to make her way past me, but I grip the back of her neck. I pull her backward, angling her head up so her eyes are on mine. She tries to pull herself from my grip, but I tighten my hand on her neck, making her whine out in pain.
“Is my soul too dark for you, baby girl? What is it? Can you not love me for who I am?”
She opens her mouth to speak, but I release her neck, tossing her onto the ground in the process. She lands on her ass, her hands flying behind her to keep her upright. I slowly make my way toward her, letting out a deep exhale.
“You see, I tried to be better for you. But I can’t change who I am. Not for you. Not for anyone. But, one thing did change. You wanna know what that is?”
Her eyes begin to fill with tears, one slipping past her lower lashes. “W-What?”
“I learned how to love. How to accept love into my life. I love you, Y/N. And you left me. Left me like I didn’t mean anything to you. That should have been enough for me to let you go. You know? I’ve always been rejected. My own dad fucking hates me. I’ve never known love. But you. You came into my fucking life and wrecked everything. I fell in love with you, and I know you loved me. So I can’t just let that go. I fucking need you. And you need me. Even if you don’t want to admit it.”
I kneel in front of her, reaching my right hand out and running it down the side of her pretty face. She flinches back and I grip her cheeks between my fingers, squeezing tightly. “Now. Let me remind you of who the fuck you belong to.”
She whimpers, more tears spilling past her lower lashes. I lay her onto her back, crawling on top of her and caging her in with my arms. She doesn’t fight. Sobs rack her chest, and she rolls her head to the side, trying to avoid my stare. I press my hips into hers, groaning when my hard dick presses against her clothed pussy.
“You feel that, Y/N? That’s what you do to me. You own me. Are you going to let me own you?”
She rolls her head back toward me. Her bloodshot eyes and mascara stained cheeks make me groan. Fuck, I’m in love with this girl. Even if she’s terrified of me right now, I fucking need her.
I chuckle at her silence. My hands go to the hem of her work shirt, sliding it up and exposing her smooth stomach. I take my left hand and run my fingers over the expanse of her skin, pulling a shudder from her. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. And you’re all mine.”
She chokes out a sob, squeezing her eyes shut as my fingers trail up her stomach and to the underside of her bra. I cup one of her breasts in my hand, firmly squeezing at it. She whimpers, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth to try and silence her cries of pleasure.
I slip her shirt up and over her head, leaving her in her pink lace bra. I snake my hand underneath her back, finding the clasps that hold the bra in place and pop them. My fingers find the straps, slowly sliding them down her arms and exposing her chest to me. Her nipples are hard, perfectly pointed peaks. My mouth waters, wanting to suck on them. I lean my head down, wrapping my lips around one of her nipples and sucking at it lightly before bringing it between my teeth and lightly biting. She moans loudly when I pull back with her nipple in my teeth. I let the pebbled bud fall from my mouth and smirk down at her.
“Are you wet f’me, sweetheart?”
She rolls her eyes. “No”
I chuckle. She’s lying. I know her better than she thinks I do. And I know she’s fucking lying. She’s ashamed. She doesn’t want to be wet for me, but she is.
I run my fingers down to the waistband of her jeans, popping the button on them and slowly pulling the zipper down. She squirms underneath my touch, trying to get away but I press my weight into her, keeping her pressed onto the cold tile of the entryway of Tannyhill.
I slide the rough fabric down her legs just enough to expose her matching pink thong. I bought her this set. And fuck, she looks good wearing it. I slide my hand between us again, running my hand up her inner thighs until I reach her clothed center. Even from here, I can feel how soaked she is. I slide her panties to the side, baring her cunt and running my index finger through her arousal slick folds.
“You’re right, you’re not wet. You’re fucking soaked, princess. Your body misses me.”
I shove my index finger inside of her soaked pussy, pulling a moan from her. I add another, curling them slightly and working them in and out of her slowly. I press my palm firmly against her clit as I continue to fuck my fingers in and out of her. The sounds her pussy makes while my fingers are buried inside her have me straining harshly against my jeans. She begins to roll her hips, fucking herself against my hand.
I bury my face into her neck, sinking my teeth into her flesh and sucking a bruise into her otherwise flawless skin. I release her skin, looking at the deep purple bruise that adorns her neck before I lick the bruise and up to her ear. I nip at the lobe of her ear before whispering, “That’s it baby, ride my hand. Good fucking girl”
She whimpers, her hips picking up the pace as she rides my fingers and hand. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, letting me know she’s close to her release. I quickly pull my fingers from her, and she whines at the loss.
“Don’t worry baby, you’ll cum. But it’ll be all over my cock. I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fuck this pretty pussy, and you’re going to love it”
I push myself off of her and quickly kick my shoes off before pulling my shirt over my head. I work on my jeans next, pulling them and my boxers down in one swift motion. Her eyes go wide when she sees my throbbing cock, precum already leaking from the tip. I drop to my knees and pull her jeans down the rest of the way. I rip her thong from her hips, making her gasp in surprise. “Rafe, I liked those!” I smirk. I can buy her a thousand more where that came from.
Ignoring her anger over the flimsy fabric I ripped from her body, I place my left hand on the ground, baring my weight while grasping my hard cock in my right hand and line it with her weeping entrance. My blue eyes find hers. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t fucking want this, because if you don’t, I’m not sorry for what’s to come. I will fucking hurt you. I will not be gentle.”
She doesnt respond, and I take her silence as my okay. I shove myself inside her in one harsh push. I groan when my swollen head hits that spongey sweet spot inside of her and she gasps loudly. Her hands fly around my neck, nails digging into my shoulders. I stay still for a minute, needing to focus on not busting inside of her right now. I want to enjoy this. I want to fucking feel her wrapped around me for longer than a few fucking minutes, but she feels so fucking good. I feel like a teenage boy discovering women for the first time all over again.
“Fuck baby girl, so fucking right and wet. And all for me.” I rasp.
“Rafe… Please?” She begs.
“Please what, baby girl. Tell me what you want”
She whimpers and it makes my dick jerk inside her. “Please… Fuck me Rafe. I- I need you.”
I smirk. She admitted that she needs me. She fucking needs me.
I ignore the small victory for now and slowly pull myself from inside her, slamming myself back inside her warm cunt before she can even think of saying anything.
My hips find a pace, quick and harsh. I slam myself in and out of her. Her sweat slick body slides on the tile, and I wrap and arm around her waist, keeping her in place. I still myself inside her, quickly grabbing her right leg and placing it around my hips, allowing me better access to her pussy. I begin pounding my hips into hers again, pulling the sweetest moans from her lips.
“Tell me you’re fucking mine. Tell me you won’t ever fucking leave me again.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing but whines and moans come out. I slow my hips, completely stilling myself inside her once more. My right hand wraps around her throat, squeezing and cutting off her air. Her wide, tear filled eyes stare up at me. “Fucking say it! Tell me you fucking need me! Tell me you fucking love me!”
She tries to speak, but my grip on her throat tightened, making her beautiful face turn a bright shade of red. Her lips begin to turn blue and I release her neck. She sucks in a deep breath of air, gasping as tears pour from her eyes.
“Tell me baby. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I-I’m yours, Rafe. Only yours. I need you. I love you. I’ll never leave you again.”
I smile at her words. They make a warmth flood through my body. A warmth i’ve only ever felt with her. She may be lying for her own pleasure right now, but she will love me again, and she will mean it.
Satisfied with her answer I begin thrusting into her again, slow and sensual thrusts that have her softly moaning. I dip my head down, burying it into her neck again. I sink my teeth into her shoulder, biting on the skin harshly before moving to the other side and repeating the action. She will be completely marked by me by the end of the night. Reminders of this night, reminders of who she belongs to marked into her skin.
Her pussy clenches around me, tightly gripping at my cock and sucking me in deeper. I groan, my lips kissing over all the bruises and teeth marks i’ve left on her skin. “Come f’me, princess. Come all over my cock, s’kay. Let me have it”
She whimpers, her pussy pulsing and body stiffening as her release rushes through her. Her body shakes, tears spill from her eyes as she screams my name. I smash my lips with hers, silencing her cries. Our tongues clash together, heavy breathing and the sounds of our skin slapping bounce off the walls. I break the kiss, my eyes finding hers. “I’m gonna cum inside this pretty pussy baby. I wanna see you swollen with my child. Do you want that? You can’t escape me if you’re pregnant with my child.”
She whines, squeezing her eyes shut as she nears another orgasm. I feel her pussy clench around me again, squeezing me tightly like it’s trying to milk me for every last drop of my cum.
My hips stutter, dick twitching inside her warm and wet cunt as I explode deep inside her pussy. “That’s it baby, take it all. I wanna see you pregnant with my baby. You’re mine. Forever”
I push deep inside her one more time, shoving my cum deep into her abused cunt before I slowly pull myself out. I fall to the floor beside her, rolling onto my side and kissing her sweat slick forehead. “All mine baby. You’re never leaving me again.”
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proxima-writes · 5 months
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title: my tears ricochet | part i
pairing: husband's best friend!joel miller x female reader
rating: chapter - t; full work - explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 7k
summary: after moving from new york to texas with your fiance, you expect to jump right into wedding planning with his help. when he claims to be too busy, he suggests asking his best friend, joel miller, to help you instead.
you weren't supposed to fall in love with him.
author's note: this story is a three part fic inspired by the song "my tears ricochet" by taylor swift. this first part is reader's POV, part two will be joel's POV, and the third part will be dual POV. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!
chapter tags: modern au, infidelity, emotional abuse, the fiance is shitty, no use of y/n, single POV (reader), wedding dress shopping and other wedding planning activities, angst, arguing, alcohol consumption/mention, kissing, no smut. please let me know if i've missed any!
major work tags: modern au, infidelity, explicit sexual content, character death
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You stare out at the manicured yard, watching as guests move about the grounds and waiters in black uniforms carry trays of food and drinks through the crowd. Your boyfriend -- wait, no, fiancé -- Alex laughs boisterously with your father, a hand on his back in easy familiarity. You know you should be down there with him given that this is your engagement party, but you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the constant smiling and greeting strangers and showing off your shiny new engagement ring that you needed a break.
The door opens and a man you don't recognize steps into the room, pale blue dress shirt stretched tight across his broad chest and a pair of wrinkled dress pants. He runs a hand through his messy dark curls.
"Sorry, I didn't think anyone would be in here," he says. As he looks you over, his brown eyes go wide with surprise. "Shit, you're the bride!"
You smile at him. "That's me," you reply. You hold a hand out towards him as you give him your name, his rough palm sliding against yours as he grips it firmly.
"I'm Joel Miller," he tells you. You know the name well, being that he's your fiancé's best friend. "Didn't mean to make our first time meetin' so awkward."
"No, no, it's not your fault. I've just been feeling a little overwhelmed with all the," you wave your hand towards the window, "festivities. It's great to finally meet you."
"I don't blame ya. They can get pretty stuffy down there. Congrats, by the way."
"Thank you." He lets go of your hand. "So, why are you hiding?"
He laughs, deep and full bellied. "Alex's mom doesn't like me much. I'm sure she was hopin' that we would stop bein' friends when he went to school on the other side of the country, but I’m like a stubborn tick."
"How could she not like you, Alex told me that the two of you have been best friends since kindergarten!"
"There may have been a few mishaps in high school," he says. "You ever tried eggin' your principal's house?"
"Can't say that I have," you reply.
"Well, it doesn't end well if you get caught." He looks out the window with a smile on his face. "We got arrested. Alex's dad had to bail us out. Probably had to throw some hush money around so that it wouldn't show up on his record when he applied to school."
"He's never told me that!" You say, laughing hard enough around the words that your stomach hurts.
The door opens and this time, Alex himself steps into the room. His serious expression morphs into a smile when he sees you and Joel.
"There you are," he says, crossing the room to kiss your cheek. He greets Joel with a hug, patting his back roughly. "What are you two doing in here?"
"I just needed a minute alone," you tell him.
"And I crashed her minute alone. Told her about the time we got arrested in high school," Joel adds. Alex's jaw tenses, his smile tight as his eyes flick to you, like he's worried about your reaction. "She laughed. It's all good."
"Right. Well, I came to find you because its time for the toast and dinner," Alex says. "Let's get back down to our guests."
A hand at the small of your back urges you towards the door before you can reply.
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"Alex, are you listening to me?" You ask. Your fiancé looks up from his phone.
"I'm sorry, baby, I was finishing an e-mail," he says. He sets his phone down on the table, dark screen facing up, and gives you his full attention. "What were you saying?"
"I wanted to schedule the cake tasting. Do you have any free time this week?"
He grimaces. "I don't think I do, sweetheart. Your dad's got my schedule pretty packed."
"I can just ask him to--"
"No," he says sternly. "You know I have to make a good impression with the rest of the firm."
"But--"
"Babe, no. I can't do this week. Why don't you ask my mom? Or Joel?"
While your future mother-in-law is kind enough, you don't have much patience for the way she tries to take control of your wedding planning. Joel, however, might be a good idea. He knows Alex well enough to be a stand in for a decision like cake and icing flavors.
"Could you give me Joel's number?"
Alex smiles, seemingly pleased that he's off the hook as he takes his phone in hand and sends you his best friend's phone number.
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You meet Joel at the bakery that week. To your surprise he's there before you, dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt and he smiles brightly at you as you approach.
"Hey," he says. "Ready to eat some cake?"
"I think this will be my favorite part of planning this whole wedding," you reply. He laughs as he pulls the door open for you to step inside, following in behind you.
"Welcome to Buttercup Bakery! Can I help y'all with anything?" A young woman with a name tag reading BEVERLY asks from behind the counter, pink and white apron tied around her waist.
"I have a cake tasting appointment," you reply, giving her your name for the reservation.
"Excellent! If you want to go ahead and take a seat anywhere you'd like, I'll bring out the tasting options and we'll get you squared away in no time!"
She disappears through swinging doors as you and Joel take a seat at a pink acrylic table with matching chairs. He looks around the shop with interest.
"What made you pick this place?" He asks.
"Had the best reviews," you say with a shrug. His brow furrows.
"Alex didn't suggest it? He helpin' you at all with this weddin'?"
He says it with a laugh, but the question makes you dig your fingernails into your palm. "He's just really busy with work. I've been doing a lot of the planning."
“What about your uh, what are they called? Bridesmaids?”
“They’re all back in New York. It’s just me.”
“I thought your parents were here, too? Isn’t Alex workin’ with your dad now?”
“It’s just my dad, he’s back in New York. His partner opened a firm in Austin and Alex is working with that office. He’s hoping to make partner soon, too.”
Joel nods, eyes scanning your face but you keep your expression as neutral as possible. The swinging doors open and Beverly returns with a marble tray, bites of cake artfully arranged on the surface. She sets it on the table between you and Joel.
“Okay! These are our six most popular flavor combinations for you to start with and if there’s something more custom you have in mind, we can totally make that happen,” she says. “Starting at the top, we have classic vanilla with vanilla buttercream, chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and chocolate buttercream, our signature champagne cake with strawberry buttercream, lemon cake with lavender buttercream, caramel cake with caramel mocha buttercream, and white chocolate cake with raspberry jam and white chocolate raspberry buttercream.”
Joel grins at you. “This might be the best thing anyone has ever asked me to help with.”
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Beverly says with a wink, walking back to the counter.
“I don’t know which to start with,” you say, eyes scanning the selections.
“That chocolate one is callin’ my name,” Joel replies, spearing one of the chocolate cake bites with a fork and taking a bite. He hums appreciatively. “Oh yeah, that one is a winner.”
You choose the vanilla to start, taking a bite of the moist cake with buttercream that tastes strongly of vanilla bean with a hint of cinnamon. The simplicity makes it good, but overall the flavor doesn't stand out to you. Joel continues to take bites seemingly at random while you opt to go around the tray in the order that Beverly introduced the flavors.
"Any of them stickin' out to you?" Joel asks when you've reached the half-way point.
"They're all delicious," you reply. "I think Alex would probably like the vanilla best, though."
"I didn't ask what Alex would like, I asked if there were any that you liked." He spears the remaining piece of white chocolate raspberry with his fork and holds it up to you. "Here, try this one next."
You eye the fork dubiously. "I don't think--"
Joel slips the bite of cake into your mouth despite your interrupted disagreement, smiling at you triumphantly. You chew the bite begrudgingly.
"I think that one and the chocolate one are my favorite," Joel says as you swallow.
Beverly returns at that moment, a notepad in hand as she pulls up a third chair to the tiny bistro table.
“So? What are your thoughts?”
“I think I’m going to get the vanilla,” you tell her. Joel’s jaw ticks, almost like he’s upset you’ve chosen the flavor that you said Alex would like. “But, could I get alternating tiers of the white chocolate raspberry, too?”
Joel’s lips quirk up in a small smile and you try to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.
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Joel: Have you picked flowers yet?
Not yet.
Joel: I know a place. You busy today?
You stare the at the message in surprise. You weren’t expecting to hear from Joel again, but his name on your screen has you fighting back a smile.
I’m not busy. When did you want to go?
Joel: They open at noon. Here’s the address.
“Baby, have you seen my blue tie?” Alex calls from upstairs. You drop your phone to the counter like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.
“Which one?” You reply, pressing a hand to your chest.
“The plaid one!”
“Should be in your tie drawer!”
“It’s not here!”
You pinch your nose, making your way to the stairs to join him in your shared bedroom. He’s standing in front of his tie drawer, hands on his hips as he stares at the contents. You peek over his shoulder and reach into the back, pulling out the neatly folded blue and green patterned tie.
He takes it from your hand. “That one should be towards the front. Can you remember that next time you put away dry cleaning?”
“Sure.” You bite your lip to hold back the sigh that threatens to spill. “You want me to tie it for you?”
“No, thanks, I need it to be perfect. Big meeting,” he says, his lips tilted in a smile that feels condescending. He leans into you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” you murmur, watching his back as he enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.
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Joel is waiting outside of a dark green storefront when you arrive at the address he’d sent you. He smiles when he sees you, a true one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, and it gives you this strange feeling of emptiness because you can’t remember the last time Alex smiled at you like that.
When you’re close enough, he pulls you into a hug that envelops you in strong arms and the scent of woods at nightfall with a hint of citrus. Your eyes flutter shut as you hug him back and breathe him in.
He releases you and immediately you feel a chill in losing his warmth despite the oppressive Texas heat. You look at the shop as he steps back, taking in the gorgeous floral arrangements in the window and cursive script painted on the glass that says PETAL TO THE METAL.
Joel opens the door to the shop, a brass bell ringing to announce your entrance. A man at the counter in the center of the store looks up and grins at you both.
“Joel! Nice to see you,” the man says. You watch as they shake hands with familiarity, the man behind the counter smiling kindly. “You must be the bride. I’m Frank.”
You give Joel a look of surprise before introducing yourself and shaking Frank’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you two know each other?”
“Joel’s an old friend of ours.”
“Ours?”
A back door bangs open, someone emerging with their arms so full of potted plants you can’t see their face. A deep voice let’s out a series of curses.
“This is my partner, Bill,” Frank says. “He’s not much of a people person. Great with plants, though.”
“A little help would be nice,” Bill grunts. Frank rolls his eyes but leaves the counter to take a couple pots from Bill’s hands, revealing a man with long brown hair and a grizzled expression hidden amongst a thick beard. Frank leans in and kisses his cheek.
“You need only ask,” Frank says. Bill’s cheeks turn pink beneath his thick facial hair. Despite the annoyed expression on his face, his eyes are soft as he watches Frank. “Let me grab you the event portfolio and we can talk about your wedding. Have a look around.”
As Frank leaves and Bill busies himself arranging the new plants, you and Joel wander the shop and take in aisles and shelves of different flowers with little gold name cards in their pots or on their buckets.
“So,” Joel says, “How are you liking Austin?”
“It’s…hot,” you reply. “Really, really hot.”
“That’s the south for ya, sweetheart.”
Your face grows hot at the endearment and how it seemed to just roll off his tongue. “Have you lived in Austin your whole life?”
“Texas born n’ bred,” he says proudly, puffing his chest out.
“You never wanted to live anywhere else?”
“I’ve always thought Wyoming sounded nice. A farm that I built, some sheep, no neighbors for miles,” he says wistfully. “Maybe someday.”
“Building a farm, huh? You good with your hands, Joel?”
He blinks at you. “Y-yeah. I mean, I’m a contractor. I gotta be.”
“That’s impressive,” you tell him, biting your lip to hold back your laughter at his flustered response.
Frank approaches, lifting a heavy book in his hands. “You ready to pick some flowers?”
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Joel holds the door open for you as the two of you leave the flower shop an hour later. He waves goodbye to Bill and Frank with a promise to visit them for dinner soon before following you down the sidewalk.
“You wanna get lunch?” Joel offers. “My treat.”
You pull your phone from your pocket to check your messages and finding none from Alex, you think to yourself, why not?
“Sure,” you agree.
That's how you find yourself sitting on a bench in the park with Joel Miller, your husband's best friend, talking to him about everything and nothing as you eat street tacos from a food truck nearby. He makes you laugh so hard you choke on birria, the sauce dripping down your chin. He reaches out, wiping the mess with a brown napkin while he smiles so bright it puts the sun to shame.
Later that night, while you're in bed, you can't help but think today was the best day you've had in a long time.
And you're not sure what that means.
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You begin texting Joel regularly. You ask him for his opinion on things that Alex can’t be bothered with — the suit colors for the groomsmen (navy blue), the invitation stationary (the linen finish), and favors (miniature bottles of hot sauce - Joel assures you this will be a hit with the Texas crowd). In between those conversations, he sends you pictures from his construction sites or asks you how your day has been and whether you had gotten the chance to check out that show he recommended.
When you tell Alex about the wedding decisions you've made, leaving out the extent of Joel's help, he hums and nods at the appropriate intervals, feigning attentiveness while his thumb moves rapidly across his phone screen. It should bother you, you think, that your future husband is so uninvolved with planning his own wedding, but then your own phone lights up with Joel’s name and a goofy photo he sent from a construction site, his hard hat askew on his head and his eyes crossed, and your annoyance with Alex fades into background noise.
There’s one last item on your checklist that you’re more nervous to ask Joel for help with than the others — dress shopping. You could probably fly back to New York and be with your friends for the momentous occasion but you’re certain that Alex wouldn’t appreciate your absence for something he considers so frivolous.
Not that you say anything when he’s gone for his golfing trips.
You’re staring at Joel’s contact screen, working up the nerve to call him and ask him if he’d be willing to come dress shopping with you, when it lights up with an incoming call, his name at the top of the screen like just your thoughts summoned him. You answer on the third ring.
“Hey, I was just about to call you,” you tell him.
“So that’s why my ears were itchin’,” he laughs. “You need somethin’?”
You take a steadying breath. “I just have one more thing I need help with and then you won’t have to deal with me.”
“I don’t mind helpin’ you, sweetheart.” You stomach flutters at the nickname and he clears his throat to fill the loaded silence that follows his words. “Now, tell me what you need.”
“Could you come dress shopping with me?”
“That all? Just tell me where and when,” he says. You breathe a sigh of relief, giving him the details of the appointment you made at a local boutique. He promises to meet you there this weekend before hanging up.
The word sweetheart in Joel’s deep voice echoes through your mind for the rest of the day.
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Joel looks hilariously out of place on the pristine white couch located in the middle of the dress boutique, a dainty glass of champagne held in his large hand. You sit beside him, your legs touching as you watch the sales associate flit around the store, pulling hangers of dresses from the racks.
“That’s a lot of dresses,” Joel comments, taking a sip of champagne.
“You not up for the challenge?” You tease. He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his wide smile.
“Trust me, I’m up for the challenge. We’re goin’ to find you the best damn weddin’ dress Texas has ever seen,” he promises.
“Alright, I’ve got some gorgeous choices here for you,” the associate announces, holding up a handful of ivory hangers draped in all types of fabric from satin to chiffon. “You wanna follow me and we’ll get started?”
You follow her to the fitting room and she sets the hangers on a rack, fanning out the dresses so that you can get a better look. There’s five of them in a variety of styles, including an impressive ball gown boasting layers of tulle that trails to the floor.
“I’ll try that one first,” you tell her, pointing to ball gown.
“What’s your fiancé’s name?” She asks as you undress, taking the gown from the hanger and arranging it on the floor for you to step into it.
“Alex,” you reply. She drags the bodice up and instructs you to hold it to your chest while she laces up the corset back.
“I think it’s sweet that you’ve brought him with you.”
“Oh, no. That’s Joel, he’s my husband’s best friend.”
“Really?” She asks, the strings tightening around your waist. “The way you two look at each other, I would have bet money he was the one marrying you." You're about to ask what she means when she finishes tying off the bodice and says, "Wow, this dress is stunning on you."
Her comment retreats to the back of your mind as you look at yourself in the mirror. The strapless white gown hugs your chest and waist, flaring out into a layered skirt with lace appliques. There's beading on the sweetheart neckline that trails down the bodice in intricate patterns that catch the light of the fitting room. The dress is stunning.
Marnie leads you back out to the showroom, helping you step up onto a raised platform in front of a trifold mirror that shows you your reflection from multiple angles. You twist and turn, taking in all the details of it before finally facing Joel.
"Damn," Joel says. "That sure is one hell of a dress."
"It's...a lot." You twist your hips from side to side, the heavy skirt swishing across the floor. "I feel like a cupcake and I don't know if I'll be able to dance in it."
"You wanna test it out?"
He's standing before you can respond, reaching a hand into yours to guide you down from the pedestal. When you're on the floor, he wraps an arm around your low back, pulling you close while swaying side to side.
The world around you goes a little blurry and the only thing in perfect clarity is Joel. The feel of his hand in yours, the weight of his arm at the small of your back, the clean smell of soap and citrus, everything is just....Joel.
"How's it feel?" He asks, voice low. You tilt your head back to look up at his face.
"Huh?"
"The dress...dancin'...how's it feel?"
The question drags you back to reality, where you're currently dancing around a bridal salon with a man who isn't your fiance. You pull away from him, returning to the pedestal as the bridal associate joins the two of you again.
"Uh...I don't think this is the dress for me. Can we try the next one?"
You try on two other dresses in quick succession, neither of them leaving a lasting impression. It's the fourth dress that really gives you pause as you look at yourself in the fitting room mirror.
"Honey," the associate says, adjusting the off-the-shoulder sleeves of the dress, "This dress was made for you."
The scooped neckline highlights the lines and curves of your neck and shoulders, the corset bodice hugging your curves in satin folds. The skirt fans out from the waist, similar to the silhouette of the ball gown without all the additional weight and fabric and a thigh high slit allows for some extra movement.
She leads you back out into the showroom and helps you once more onto the pedestal. You grin at your reflection as she fixes the skirt into place.
"Well?" You ask, catching Joel's eye in the mirror. His mouth is set in a serious line, brows pinched together and his arms crossed over his chest. You own smile falters. "You don't like it? What's with the look?"
He shakes his head, his serious expression morphing into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "You look..." His voice trails off and he clears his throat. "Alex is a lucky son of a bitch."
You laugh, lifting the skirt so that you can step off the pedestal. Joel's eyes drop, his gaze fixing on the skirt as you walk towards him.
"You think so?" You ask quietly, stepping in close.
"Yeah, sweetheart," he murmurs. A single finger runs down your arm, goosebumps erupting over your skin in its wake. "I know so."
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With the wedding plans finalized, your attention returns to your work as a web design consultant. Your client portfolio starts to build once more, keeping you busy in the months leading up to your big day. Alex remains focused on his work at the firm, working long days and longer nights that have him arriving home well after you've gone to bed, the two of you just ships passing in the dark. You would feel lonely, you think, if not for Joel.
The two of you still message each other frequently, though you don't see him again until a month before the wedding, when Alex invites him over for dinner one Saturday night.
The doorbell rings just as you put the chicken in the oven and you wipe your hands before going to answer it, your heart racing. Joel's sweet smile greets you when you open the door and seeing him across the threshold has the tension in your shoulders easing the slightest bit.
He steps across the threshold, strong arms wrapping around your waist in a tight hug. Footsteps on the stairs have him releasing you far sooner than you would have liked.
"Joel, my man! Glad you could make it," Alex says as he reaches the first floor. "Honey, is the table set?"
"No, not yet," you reply.
"You need any help?" Joel asks. You open your mouth to respond, but Alex jumps in to say, "No, she's got this. Let me give you the tour."
You watch as Alex leads Joel upstairs, commanding his friend's attention. You swallow down the anger that rises in your throat at your fiancé's dismissal and return to the kitchen, gathering the place settings and arranging the table to his liking.
"It's a nice place," Joel says as the two men enter the living room, which opens to the kitchen and dining areas.
"All that work finally paying off," Alex comments. You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to mention that you were the one who fronted the down payment for Alex's choice of home in Texas. The oven beeps and you pull out the chicken parmesan that had been baking.
"Smells good," Joel comments. You look up, catching his eye. A wordless understanding passes between you, a quiet appreciation that makes your blood run hot.
You plate the food while your fiancé uncorks a bottle of wine and pours it into the wine glasses at each place setting. Alex settles in at head of the table and Joel takes the seat to the left, leaving you with the seat to Alex's right, across from Joel.
The three of you make small talk between bites of dinner and sips of wine. Alex asks Joel about the contracting work he's been doing, Joel asks him about his work at the new office and how he's settling in, being back in his home state. It's halfway through dinner that Joel looks to you and asks, "Are you excited for the wedding next month?"
"Of course," you reply, fingers tangling in the cloth napkin resting across your lap. "Planning it was a labor of love."
"Right, thanks for helping her with the cake, man," Alex chimes in.
Joel chuckles. "Helped with a lot more than just the cake."
"What do you mean?" Alex asks, glancing between the two of you.
"Well, I helped get the flowers, the cake, pickin' out the stationary. Dress shoppin'," Joel clarifies. Your stomach drops as Alex's jaw grows tense, his brow pinched as he nods and pastes on a forced smile.
"Wow, I didn't realize you'd been so involved," Alex says. He removes the napkin from his lap, setting it on the table. "Would you excuse us for a second?"
Alex stands, looking down at you expectantly. You smile at him and Joel in turn, but the expression feels hollow and you taste bile in the back of your throat. As soon as you're on your feet, Alex has a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, urging you along behind him as he makes his way towards the stairs.
Once he's reached your shared bedroom, he turns to you, eyes filled with rage. “What the fuck is that about?”
“What do you mean?” You ask. He laughs, the sound devoid of any humor.
“He helped you pick out your dress?” Alex paces the length of the bedroom like a caged animal and for the first time in your relationship with him, a frisson of fear courses through your veins. “You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid?”
“Excuse me?” You snap. “You told me to ask him for his help!”
“With the cake!” Alex shouts. “Not the entire goddamn wedding! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”
“You weren’t exactly offering much help, Alex!”
His eyes narrow. “I thought you would be perfectly capable of planning shit on your own, but I guess that was giving you too much credit.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. “Why are you being such a fucking asshole right now?”
“Because you’re my fiancé, not Joel’s!” He steps in close, towering above you as he hisses, “Did you fuck him?”
“No!” You shout.
His eyes search yours and whatever he finds seems to extinguish his anger, his coiled muscles loosening. He grips your shoulders, pressing his forehead to yours.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Why don’t you head back downstairs and I’ll stay up here for a minute to cool off, okay?”
The sudden switch leaves your head spinning but you manage to nod. Alex kisses your forehead and you take that as your cue to leave, escaping the confines of your room. In the hall, you grip the banister of the loft that overlooks the living room and take the first real breath in what feels like ages, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to calm your racing heart.
You return to the kitchen and Joel’s head snaps up when you enter. He rises from his seat at the table, rushing to your side.
“Are you okay?” He asks, low voice filled with concern, his brows pinched with worry. “What the fuck was that?”
“Just a misunderstanding,” you murmur, pushing past him.
“That’s bullshit,” he hisses. “Is he always like that?”
“Like what?” You sigh.
“An asshole. Yellin’ and threatenin’ you.” His fists are clenched at his sides. “He ever hit you?”
“What? No, of course not.” You take a deep breath, beating back the wave of tears pressing at the corners of your eyes. “He’s just got a lot going on with the move and work and the wedding.”
Joel is quiet, watching you with keen brown eyes that you, for once, wish weren’t focused on you. He steps close, voice low as he says, “Be honest with me, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine, Joel,” you tell him. The lie claws at your throat and sends your stomach into a tailspin. “I promise.”
Footsteps echo on the stairs and you step away from Joel, busying yourself with loading the dishwasher, clearing the counters, anything to keep your hands occupied and stop their shaking. Alex enters the kitchen with a sharp smile.
“Hey, man, sorry about that,” he says, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “I think we’re ready to call it a night. Ain’t that right, honey?”
You force yourself to keep your eyes on Alex as you smile and say, “Yeah, baby.”
“Let me walk you out, Joel,” Alex says. “Honey, say bye.”
“Goodbye, Joel.”
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Joel: Hey
Joel: You having a good week?
Joel: Been a while. You doing okay?
Joel: You’ve been quiet
Joel: I need to know you’re okay.
Joel: Just let me know
Joel: Please
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“Just two more days until you’re my wife,” Alex says, pressing a kiss to your lips. He smiles at you and you mirror the expression as best you can.
“I can't wait,” you reply.
"I gotta get going," Alex says. He presses a kiss to your cheek as he passes where you're sitting at the bar. "Love you."
"Love you," you repeat, out of reflex more than affection.
The front door slams shut and quiet settles over the house. All you want to do is crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head in the hopes that it protects you from the way time continues to creep forward despite your uncertainties. Maybe, if you lay there long enough, time will move on without your involvement.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a heavy knock at the door. You’re not sure who it could be — your dad is scheduled to fly into town in the late afternoon and your friends arrive early tomorrow morning and you’re fairly certain you don’t have any deliveries scheduled. Sliding from the bar stool, you leave the kitchen to answer the door.
Joel stands on the other side of the threshold, haloed by the morning sun. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’re dreaming.
“What are you doing here?” You finally ask.
“Can I come in?” He replies, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I need to talk to you.”
You step aside and allow him to enter the hallway, shutting the door behind him. You avoid his gaze as you return to the living room with him following behind you. The silence that settles between the two of you makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
"Why haven't you been talkin' to me?" Joel asks. He takes a step closer, brown eyes searching yours for an answer you try to keep hidden.
"I've been busy," you say.
"Cut the bullshit," he snaps, surprising you. "Is it because of what happened at dinner?"
"No," you reply. Joel must sense the brief hesitation, hear the weakness in your voice. His eyes go soft, full of pity, and you can't fucking stand it. "Don't look at me like that."
"Look, I've known Alex a long time, and all those years weren't exactly peachy," he says cryptically. "I love him like a brother but even family ain't without faults.” He steps in close, his hands cradling your face in a delicate grip. “Tell me this is what you want," he demands. "Tell me that you're happy with Alex. Tell me that there's nothin' here between us."
The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue, but nothing can bring them to life. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm against your ribcage, the rush of blood in your ears the only thing you can hear. He leans closer, eyes dropping to your lips and you know what's about to happen next but you can't bear the thought of stopping him as he closes the scant distance between your mouths.
For the briefest moment, you allow yourself the chance to just feel. No thoughts, no panic, no worry. Just Joel's warm lips moving against yours, the trace of his palm from you cheek to behind your head, pulling you closer even though you're already tightly pressed to him. It's slow and deep, like he's trying to convince you down to your marrow that this is where you're supposed to be.
But it's not.
You push him away and he doesn't fight you, but the look he gives you damn near shatters your resolve. His eyes are dark, jaw tense, hands flexing at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back, damn the consequences. Your eyes and throat burn with the effort of holding back the tears that threaten to spill.
"You need to leave," you whisper. "You can't do this, we can't do this. I'm getting married in two days, Joel!"
He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the strands in frustration. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't lay awake at night thinkin' what a fuckin' asshole I am for fallin' in love with my best friend's fiancé?!" He shouts.
"This isn't love, Joel--"
"Don't," he snaps. "Don't you lie to me. I know it, you know it, hell, the fuckin' lady at the dress shop knew it!" He takes a deep breath. "I'm showin' you my whole hand here and you won't even lay down a goddamn card!"
"There is no card!" You shout.
"You kissed me back!" He counters.
You stare at each other for a long moment, like two scared, wounded animals. Eventually, one of you has to back down, retreat, lick their wounds until they've healed in a messy pattern of scar tissue that will serve as a painful reminder of what could have been.
Joel sighs, another pass of his hand through his hair as he says, "You know what? Fine." He turns to leave, the line of his shoulder lower, his head low.
A glutton for punishment, you call out, "Joel?"
"Yeah?" He asks, weary. Bone tired. You feel it, too.
"Will you still be there tomorrow?" You ask, unsure of which answer would be worse.
Another sigh. "Yeah. I'll be there."
The door slams shut behind him.
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Your rehearsal dinner is torture.
This should be one of the happiest events of your life but all your energy is being directed at avoiding Joel like the plague. He moves through the crowd comfortably, having known many people in attendance for most of his life, and you feel like an unmoored boat, hoping a wave doesn't crash over you.
Alex sits beside you, drinking from a glass of whiskey as he talks to one of his uncles that has been praising him for landing the opportunity to work with such a prestigious law firm right after college. A dizzying rotation of people approach you through the night - friends who chatter excitedly about the big day tomorrow, aunts who ask when you think you'll have children, uncles who tell you that they're proud of you for landing such a successful, promising young man. It's those last comments that have you hiding a frown in your champagne glass.
It drags on forever, this constant stream of polite conversation and forced smiles. When you finally return to the hotel that you're staying at for the night, you start to feel like you can breathe again. You have a suite separate from Alex's for getting ready early in the morning and he walks you to your room, hand on your low back, a smile on his face.
"I'll see you in the morning," he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "My almost wife."
The sentiment has bile rising in your throat and as he turns to leave you're blurting the words, "I can't do this."
"Sweetheart, you're just nervous," he says, voice surprisingly calm. He squeezes your shoulders. "You just need to sleep it off and everything will be fine in the morning."
"No," you tell him, shaking your head. "No, it won't be fine."
His smile drops, like a mask has just been removed. "Where is this coming from? Everything was fine at the rehearsal."
"Everything was not fine at the rehearsal!"
Alex takes the room key from your hands, unlocked the door and ushering you inside. He flicks on the light to the sitting area and takes a seat on the couch.
"What's going on with you?" He asks, exasperation dripping from his words. "What do you mean the rehearsal wasn't fine? Did you not like the food or something?"
You stare at him incredulously. "The problem wasn't the food, Alex! The problem is us!"
"There's no problem with us," he says. "Unless there's something you want to tell me?"
"What do you mean?" You ask.
He stands, coming close. "Is this about Joel?"
"No!" You snap, perhaps too quickly. "This isn't about Joel."
"Then what is it? Because as far as I know, we're a perfectly happy couple."
"Perfectly happy? Alex, you didn't even help me plan this wedding. Not a single minute of it."
"Not this again," he groans. "Sweetheart, let it go. I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you need to hear?"
Your jaw aches with how hard your teeth grind together as he dismisses you so easily. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth steadies you enough to say, "I'm not marrying you."
"Baby, please," Alex says. For the first time, he sounds panicked. "Don't make any rash decisions, alright? Whatever this is, we can work through it. If I lose you, I lose everything."
Maybe he's right. Maybe the stress of the last few months has just caught up to you.
"Okay," you whisper. He breathes a sigh of relief and presses another kiss to your temple.
"I love you," he says. "Everything will be okay after tomorrow. You'll see."
You don't say anything back, and he doesn't wait around for a response. He leaves your suite, the click of the door shutting loud in the late night silence. You stand there for who knows how long, wondering if he's right. Would everything be alright after tomorrow? Could you sweep those lingering feelings for Joel to the side in favor of the life you'd been building for the last few years?
You know what the safe choice is, but is it the right choice?
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It's the morning of your wedding day and you've been poked and prodded with makeup brushes and your hair has been perfectly styled for the occasion. Flashbulbs have been going off on the cameras that are documenting your special day, capturing moments like your bridesmaids helping you into your dress and your dad's first look, a handkerchief clutched in his hand as he smiled at you.
For the first time in hours, you're alone in your suite. The makeup artist and hair stylists have packed up and taken their leave and your friends are downstairs, waiting for the limousine. You told them you would be just a minute longer.
A soft knock at your door has you realizing that you may have taken too long and you shout an apology as you rush to answer it. But it's not one of your friends on the other side like you had expected.
It's Joel.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. His hair is styled, curls smoothed and slicked back into submission. His white shirt is a stark contrast to his navy blue tuxedo, matching bow tie tight around his neck. His boutonnière is slightly crooked where it sits pinned to his jacket lapel. He looks you up and down with a small smile.
"You look beautiful," he says. He reaches for your hand, fingers tangling with yours. Never quite folding together, but never quite letting go, either.
"Thank you," you whisper.
"Are you ready?" He asks. You wonder if he knows, if Alex told him or if he can just see it on your face.
"Yes."
It's a lie, one you've been repeating since your alarm went off this morning after a night of tossing and turning. His smile falters, but doesn't drop.
"Good, that's....good," he says. His hand leaves yours, and you feel like you've had an entire unspoken conversation that's left you both defeated. "Lets go get you married."
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Joel Miller masterlist
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divider graphic by @saradika-graphics.
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buckyalpine · 9 months
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Barbie
Single dad Bucky x reader
Had this idea that I thought would be cuteeeee; Bucky's little baby seeing a real life Barbie doll for the first time.
Bucky's POV "Daddy lets go!!" Bella's tiny hand tugged on Bucky's much larger one, urging him towards the door, determination written all over her little face, "It'll start soon!"
"Alright peanut, I promise we won't be late" he chuckled, letting his daughter pull him with all her might, not wanting to miss a second of the new Barbie movie. He raised a brow at the strength his four year old had when she got excited. It was all Bella talked about since the first movie trailer came out and ever since, the house was filled with every shade of pink imaginable. Bella had marked the date on the fridge, counting down the days though Bucky decided to wait a few weeks before taking her so the crowd wouldn't be too much for her, wanting her to actually enjoy the movie.
"Ready peanut?" Bucky scooped her up in his arms, carrying her over to the car, adjusting the frilly pink tutu she had on so he could buckle her in the car seat. She had been previously unamused at his lack of outfits that would match Ken but ultimately settled on something much, much better.
"Ready daddy" She nodded, straightening out the matching tiara she had placed in on his head, hardly able to contain her little squeals of excitement, double checking the pink heart magnets she'd stuck on his arm. Bucky pecked her chubby cheek before getting into the drivers seat and pulling out the car, just as excited himself to have a relaxing day with his babygirl.
Your POV
You huffed, smoothing out the front of your dress, hyping yourself up in front of the mirror before slipping on your heels, taking them off and putting them back on again.
Then slipping one off before strapping it back on firmly in place.
There was no reason for you to be nervous.
You looked amazing. There was no doubt there. That shade of pink was radiant against your skin. Not a hair out of place. Your makeup was perfect. Yet your heart wouldn't stop breathing just a smidge too fast. You deserved this. After a long, exhausting week you deserved a day to yourself to just feel good and relaxed. Yet your nerves were lit ablaze while you double checked your lipstick.
You were a grown ass woman, you didn't need to explain yourself to anyone as to why you were seeing this movie alone.
Dressed up in your cutest matching pink outfit.
You could do whatever you wanted...Is what you whispered to yourself before grabbing your purse and making a beeline towards to door before you changed your mind again. You pulled into the parking lot, glad your decided to wait a while to see this movie instead of going on opening night, noting it was a much quieter night, easing some of your nerves.
You went over to the snack counter, browsing the wide selection of candy, grabbing both sour candy and chocolate before joining the line to have your ticket scanned. You glanced down at your outfit once again, smoothing your a hand over your hair before straightening your shoulders.
You deserved this.
Bucky's POV
Bucky's heart swelled at the little clicks his daughters dress up heels made as they made their way up to the snack counter hand in hand; she was a ball of pink and frills with a tiny purse to finish the look off. She stumbled slightly, keeping up with his long strides, eyes wide taking in her surroundings along with the smell of fresh popcorn.
"What do you feel like getting jellybean" Bucky picked her up, letting her scan the rack of candy while he ordered a large popcorn and soda.
"This please daddy?" She pointed to a large swirly rainbow lollypop, waiting patiently when he set her back down making their way towards the ticket line. Her hand was still firmly holding onto his, a gasp slipping past her lips when her eyes landed on the best thing imaginable. Bucky looked up towards the direction his daughter was staring in, curious about the tiny gasp she let out and what had suddenly caught her attention.
The prettiest doll she'd ever seen. But in real life.
She couldn't take her eyes off her pretty pink dress or her matching heels. She was sure her favorite Barbie doll at home had the same shade of lipstick as hers. She clung onto Bucky's leg as they made their way over, tugging at his jeans to get his attention.
"Daddy! It's a Barbie doll" She whispered as he crouched down to her level, "She's so pretty" He could tell by her antsy squirming she wanted to talk to the real life Barbie boll, itching to take off at any moment. Bucky blinked, feeling his heart flutter, brows furrowing at why it was doing that, stop that.
But Bella was right.
She was pretty.
As soon as he saw who his daughter was pointing to, his own mind momentarily stopped working, only noticing her take off when he saw a blur of pink dash away, making a bee line towards the young woman.
Shit.
Your POV
"Hi" A small voice chirped behind you, leaving you confused when you didn't see anyone near by. Until you looked down. You smiled seeing the little girl behind you dressed in all pink, the tiara on her head slightly crooked, a lollypop sticking out of her purse. "You look so pretty"
"Thank you sweetheart" You cooed, gasping when a handsome stranger, clearly her father, grabbed her into his arms, shaking his head. He had a sparkly gold tiara on his head matching hers, flecks of pink glitter dusting his cheeks, some sprinkled onto his fluffy chestnut locks. You couldn't help the smile that spread onto your face when your eyes landed on the many magnets that were stuck onto his arm ranging from pink hearts to rainbows and the Barbie logo.
"Bella" He scooped her up, blowing a raspberry onto her cheek making her giggle, "You can't run off like that babygirl"
"Sorry daddy, wanted to see Barbie" She gave him her best pout, making you laugh, your own cheeks heating up when he looked over at you with a shy smile, matching hers.
Fuck, he was beautiful.
A whole ass DILF.
You shook your head, figuring he probably had a wife or girlfriend, there was no way he was single.
Bucky's POV
"She's really exited" Bucky said apologetically while you both had your tickets scanned, walking towards the same theatre room, butterflies fluttering in his tummy again.
"It's okay, this little princess made my day" You tried to sound light hearted though you were nervous meeting his soft baby blue eyes.
"Can she sit with us?" Bella pipped up before anyone sat own, giving her dad another dose of puppy eyes and a pout before turning to you and giving you the same treatment.
"Oh-uh-" Bucky figured you would've come with friends (maybe even a boyfriend...hopefully not...), though he didn't see anyone around when you were in line earlier. Either way, he was sure you wouldn't want to spend your movie day with a single dad and his very cute, albeit excited little girl. "I don't know baby-
"Actually, it's just me, I-don't mind" you smiled at the way Bella's eyes lit up along with an excited squeak, wiggling out of Bucky's hold to slip her hand into yours, pulling you to the middle of the row.
"Thank you" Bucky gave you a grateful smile, a tiny greedy part of him happy to sit with the sweet stranger his daughter was enamored with.
****
You adored watching the movie with Bella, leaning down whenever she'd whisper something, her hand often holding onto your pinky through most of the movie. You both made your way out of the theatre once the end credits began to roll, feeling a pang of something again when you noticed your cars happened to be parked side by side.
What were the chances-
Stop.
He probably has a partner, you scolded yourself internally while Bella gave you a sleepy hug before Bucky settled her into her car seat and shutting the door softly.
"Hi again" Bucky smiled bashfully, hoping the pink on his cheeks wasn't too obvious as he leaned against his car door, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Why would someone as pretty and kind hearted as you want to go on a date with someone who came with baggage.....but maybe...
"Hi again" You nearly stumbled over your words, your heart hammering while he fidgeted with his phone, chewing his lip before speaking.
"I wanted to say thank you again. For today. I-I hope this isn't too forward but-uh-to say thank you properly-maybe coffee? If you don't like coffee then something else-dinner? Maybe a date-unless you don't want it to be a date-"
"I'd love to" you cut off his nervous rambling while Bucky let out the breath he was holding, giving you his phone for you to add your number in. He waited for you to get into your car, waving as you pulled out before getting into his own car, surprised to find Bella now wide awake with a cheeky smile on her face.
"Will we see Barbie again?" Bella eyed Bucky curiously while Bucky's phone pinged with a text message from you.
Can't wait to see you, keep the tiara on x
Bucky grinned, reaching behind to playfully tickle her foot before smiling at his phone again.
"I think we will"
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back2bluesidex · 2 months
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Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 5 (18+)
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Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 
Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!
Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut
Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, multiple pov changes, drinking, makeout
Word count: 4.4k+
Taglist requests are closed.
Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog
A/N: Finally!! They are kisssssinnngggg!!!
Main Masterlist
Chapters:- 
Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale
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Jungkook should have headed home. 
He knows he should have received Jiwon’s calls and replied to her messages at least once to confirm that he is alive. 
But he couldn’t.
He couldn't think of anything else after seeing you with another man, the man that you referred to as a special client earlier. He knows he has no right to invade your personal boundaries now, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be curious or worried about you.  
What if you are wasting your life away trying to move on from him, what if your client (that didn’t look like only a client) is a pervert? 
He should be there for you. you are, afterall, much more than just his ex-girlfriend to him. 
That’s exactly what brought him to your (once shared) apartment. Even though the decision is induced by two bottles of soju and three cigarettes in a row, he doesn't regret. 
Jungkook rehearses his lines again and again. He drew a mindmap of what conversations to initiate with you once he charges straight up to your door. But even before he could head near the entryway - he sees you getting out of the same car that picked you up from Jimin’s. 
And it’s the same man that had touched you in a way he doesn’t approve of. 
He lights another cigarette as he watches the scene upfolds one after another in front of him. That man says something, you reply to him, he takes a step towards you, you take a step back, he leans down and you don’t stop him. 
Jungkook’s blood starts boiling. He throws the cigarette away and surges forward to stop whatever is going on but the car window slides down and if he is not wrong then it’s a kid who talks to the man standing with you. 
Are you flirting with a married guy now? Are you that desperate to move on? To forget him? 
Before he can understand anything, he sees you bidding them goodbye and walking away. The car leaves a little later. 
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Your face still feels hot. 
For a moment you believe that all of it is a dream. There is no way Hoseok said it’s impossible to fall out of love with you. There is no way he admitted that he could do anything to make you his. There is no freaking way he was seconds away from kissing you!  
All of it is happening too fast. It’s been roughly four weeks since you met him. And it’s been a month and half since Jungkook broke up with you. 
Aren’t you moving on too fast? Are you really attracted to Hoseok or is he just a suitable rebound to you? 
These questions plague your mind. You grip your hair out of frustration. 
Hoseok can never be a rebound. That won’t be justified to him or to the kindness he has been treating you with. 
But the way you felt nervous and breathless around him a few minutes ago, the way his dark eyes managed to make you want him shamelessly - not all of it was because you desperately want to move on from your ex-boyfriend, is it? 
The doorbell rings loudly in your empty apartment and you realize you are still sitting on the couch and you haven’t even changed. 
The clock says it’s 7:40 pm and you frown at that. You wouldn’t have visitors on a Saturday during this hour. So it might be your grocery that you placed an order for just this morning. 
Getting up from the couch, you take slow steps towards the door and the bell rings once again. The delivery guy must be in a hurry, so you scream a little “coming” as you take the doorknob in your hands and open the door. 
And your head starts spinning all at once. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask the man standing at your door. The same man who broke your heart six weeks ago. The words come out with less surprise and more anger. 
“I- uh- I need to pack rest of my stuff…” he pauses, visibly struggling with his words, “can I come in?” 
You sigh, a long one, as you open the door wider for him to come in. 
Today is indeed a bad day. You wanted to avoid him once and you ended up coming across twice. 
Shutting the door loudly enough, you look at Jungkook. He looks restless. He is still wearing the same clothes you saw him in earlier, so he might not have headed home since then. The strong smell of soju and cigarettes highents your suspicion. 
He looks back at you, with big, doe, glossy eyes. Once you felt unbelievably weak for them but now you feel numb. The moisture in those dark orbs does nothing to worry or unsettle you. 
You wait for him to say something or to head inside your (once shared) bedroom and pack up whatever stuff he had left behind. But he does nothing. He stands there staring at you as you do the same. 
You sigh again, “as far as my knowledge goes, you have nothing left to pack. But you can check again, or whatever you please.” 
You divert your eyes from him and walk towards the kitchen to pour him a glass of water. 
“I know that. I know there’s nothing left.” he finally speaks up, making your head turn towards him through the open space of the kitchen. 
You feel anger growing inside you with every passing moment. If he knew then why the fuck did he come? What brings him here at your apartment on a saturday night right when you feel way too much troubled with your feelings and emotions? 
But you control it. You are trained to control your emotions during these kinds of situations. So you take in a deep breath and open your mouth to speak again.
“Then may I ask what brings you here, Jungkook? That too in the state of intoxication? If this is about the apartment itself then let me remind you that the lease is in my name and I have already wired you the share you had paid up until the breakup.”  
He walks towards you. Standing on the other side of the kitchen counter he says, “I just wanted to see you, Y/N.” 
A sarcastic chuckle bubbles in your throat at that. 
“We don't really share a relation to see each other frequently, don’t you think so? Besides, you just saw me this afternoon.” 
This time Jungkook laughs. Just like yours, his laugh, too, is punctuated with sarcasm. But you don’t know how he can be sarcastic. He is the one who left you, he is the one who has a girlfriend waiting at home for him while he is here at his ex-girlfriend’s house and he is the one who should be guilty, not you. 
Suddenly you feel a strong urge to throw the glass full of water on his face. But you calm yourself down again. 
“Well, you didn’t even look at me properly. You were so eager to entertain your special client that you basically ran out of Jimin’s place.” 
The insides of your mouth taste sour at how Jungkook emphasized the words special client.
“I don’t get it.” your head feels heavy, squeezing your eyes shut tight you continue, “I don’t get why are you here at this hour, having an unnecessary argument about my life?” 
“I am not arguing with you.” Jungkook frowns as he manages to protest. 
“Okay.” you resign. You know stretching the matter any further will only complicate things and you don’t want that to happen. You don’t want him inside your home or within your 10 meter radius ever again.  
Feeling Jungkook’s constant stare on you, you stand straight and try to put an end to whatever is happening right now, “Jungkook, you are drunk. Let me book a cab-” 
“Who is he?” your ex-boyfriend cuts you off. 
“Who are you talking about?” you can sense jealousy and possessiveness in his voice. And this is something you never liked even when you were together. So, seeing him jealous now because of whatever reason, when he is the one who left you, makes you even more furious. 
“That guy you almost kissed a few minutes ago?” the words leave through his gritted teeth, triggering something venomous inside you. 
“Does your pretty little actress girlfriend know that you have been following your ex-girlfriend and keeping records of the guys I meet?” you actually grip the glass now, ready to throw the water on Jungkook’s face if he says another word out of line. 
“You didn’t answer me, Y/N. Who was he?” Jungkook stands his ground, stubborn to show his non-existent rights on you. 
“That’s. None. Of. Your. Business.” The words come out low but coated with anger. You fail to recognize yourself. 
Jungkook comes closer to the kitchen counter and lodges himself between the stools. Only the thin kitchen island is separating the two of you. 
Two months ago, you yearned to have him at this proximity at least. Ironically enough, now you hate it. 
“It is. It is my business if you are flirting with a married guy just to move on from me! I should.. I should step in.” 
And that’s it. That was the last nail in the coffin.  
You pour the water on his head without waiting for a second more. 
He closes his eyes with a visible tick in his jaw as the cold water runs down from his hair down to his face, gradually wetting his clothes. 
“Come out of your dream, Jeon Jungkook. The world doesn’t revolve around you. My life, my choices, my decisions - nothing, you impact nothing! You aren’t worth my thoughts or my tears anymore. Do you get that?” you spat at his face. 
Jungkook stands still. The change in your level-headed demeanor took him by surprise, it seems. However, his gaze softens, jaw relaxes soon. Maybe it’s the cold water or maybe his conscience decided to make a comeback now. 
Running a hand through his now dripping hair, Jungkook tries to establish his point again, “Y/N, I am sorry. I am just worried about you. That guy has a kid-” 
“I will give you two minutes to leave, Jungkook. If you fail to do so I am going to call your manager.” You garb a kitchen towel and throw it on his face, “or worse… the paparazzi.” with that you leave him hanging awkwardly at the dining space making a beeline for your bedroom for some solace. 
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“Jungkook! Where have you been? Have you checked your phone? I have been texting and calling you? Are you alright? Did anything happen? Why are you soaked? Jungkook? Fucking answer me!” 
Jungkook’s head pounds more and more with every single word that comes out of Jiwon’s mouth.
He is still processing whatever happened tonight. But the alcohol level in his blood makes it almost impossible to form a coherent chain of thoughts. Jiwon, too, keeps throwing questions at him, pushing him towards the edge of losing his cool. 
Somehow managing to get out of his heavy boots, he trudges towards the couch and flops down, completely ignoring his girlfriend’s questions and presence. 
“Jungkook, please tell me. Did something bad happen? Where were you all day?” She sits at the end of the couch, by his leg, her voice is slightly less hyper than it was a minute ago.
“At Jimin’s” Jungkook whispers briefly as he covers his face with one of his forearm. He needs to rest. He needs to provide his mind and heart with a break after everything those went through today. But as soon as he closes his eyes, your face is what he sees. 
He has never seen you as angry as today. In those three years he spent with you, there were fallouts and arguments but never once you were as furious as you were today. You used to be either silent or passive aggressive before, but today you attacked him directly. There was fire in your eyes and venom in your voice. You even poured cold water on him. 
He knows he was unreasonable today. He knows he pushed all of your buttons. But what he doesn’t know is why he is hurting. 
He fell out of love with you. He, now, loves someone else. 
Then why on earth the prospect of you dating another man hurts him this much. Why couldn't he stop himself from acting unreasonable today? Why did he show up at your place and make a scene when it shouldn’t be his business to interrogate who you are dating.     
Jiwon shakes his body and he realizes that his sleeves are now wet with his tears. 
Fuck! Why am I crying? Jungkook thinks as he tries to sit up. 
“You weren’t with Jimin. He said you left after lunch. And it’s 9 pm now.” sniffing carefully, Jiwon adds, “and you are drunk.” 
“Yeah. I went for a drink later on.” Jungkook sighs. 
“Okay. But how did you get wet?” Jiwon throws her next question. 
“Can you please shut it, Jiwon?” the shout comes out of his throat involuntarily, so much so that it even takes himself by surprise. But he does nothing to conceal his bubbling annoyance, not even when he sees Jiwon’s eyes growing glossy. 
“I am sorry. I was just worr-” 
“I am sorry, too, Jiwon! I am sorry for not responding to your calls and messages and for shouting at you now but-” he sighs, feeling defeated, “but can you please leave me alone? I need to rest.” 
“Yeah, alright.” Jiwon gets up from her seat and walks towards the bedroom. 
Jungkook can feel her stopping in the middle of her tracks, turning towards him. 
“But if it’s about her, then… you need to fix yourself as soon as possible.” 
Jungkook doesn’t answer that.
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Sunday and Monday go in a blur. 
You somehow feel way better after kicking Jungkook out of your apartment. A little, angelic part of you regrets being rude to him, especially for pouring cold water on his head. 
You could have handled the situation better, like the adult you are. On top of that, you are a psychologist. You should have acted more wisely. 
But the bigger part of you is satisfied. 
You accepted everything when he said he fell for someone else. You did let him go knowing that there is no point of holding someone on when their heart isn’t with you anymore. 
But you couldn’t accept his unreasonable possessiveness or the way he shamelessly showed up at your place and especially the way he talked about you and Hoseok. 
So in conclusion, Jungkook deserved it. 
And you feel good about it. 
After a while everything seems to be falling in place. You are starting to heal, you are getting attracted to someone very appealing, you had only two clients left, one of which just had her last counseling with you today. 
Another one is Sua, and you have a very good feeling about her too. 
Tonight you decided to treat yourself a little. Lightening a lavender scented candle and choosing an over-expensive sheet mask to pamper your face, you lie down on your bed. 
For once you decide to think about absolutely nothing. You want to let your mind float and see where it lands. 
Your eyes close. The wet, cold sensation from the sheet mask feels too good on your face and you try to focus on that only. 
But bam! 
As soon as you let your thoughts flutter, those decide you paint a particular face with heart shaped smile, dark, warm and mysterious eyes, and a lithe body that you want on yours-
And your phone rings. 
An annoyed groan leaves your lips! 
“Why the fuck did I leave it on ring?” grabbing the phone from the night stand you scream at yourself. 
But your annoyance dies as soon as you see the intruder's name on the screen. 
It’s Hoseok. 
You gulp, smoothing your voice that went hoarse with the scream, and then you pick it up tapping the speaker icon. 
“Hey, Y/N” his smooth voice fills your ear. A smile creeps to your lips without your knowledge, “Is this the right time to talk to you? I didn’t disturb you, did I?” 
His unsure voice cut through the little bit of hurt that you have been feeling after experiencing radio since from his side after whatever happened on Saturday. 
“No, you didn’t. Tell me what’s up? Is Sua alright?” You try to keep your voice professional. And professionally he shouldn’t call you past business hours if it’s not an emergency. 
“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s better actually. We went grocery shopping yesterday and she was a lot more talkative. Thanks for everything.” 
“Eh. I’m not going to discount you even if you keep thanking me.” 
He laughs at that, making you feel lightheaded with the sound. 
“I have a favor to ask, actually.” hoseok says, as the laugh dies down. 
“Yeah. Tell me.” 
“Sua’s homeroom teacher has called for a PTA on wednesday and I have decided to let her know everything. But I don’t think I will be able to handle the situation wisely since I can’t keep my anger in check when it comes to her. So….” 
“So?” 
“So, could you please join me? Since you are her doctor you will be able to do it better.” 
You stay silent. The idea of joining Hoseok to his daughter’s PTA meeting feels too intimate. Even though you know you are going just as her doctor.  
“It’s totally alright if you don’t want to. I know this might not be under your responsibilities and I am sor-”
“I will join you. You can text me the time and address, right?” 
“Yeah sure. Sure, I can.” 
You can feel his smile on the other side of the line. 
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It doesn’t take you a minute to spot Hoseok and his luxurious sleek car. And you feel your breath caught in your throat yet again. 
How can a man be so attractive? He is handsome indeed but the aura of authority that he exudes knocks you off your socks each and every time you see him. 
When your eyes meet, he is still on the phone. For a moment you wonder, if it’s the woman Mina or not. 
“Hi… Thanks for coming.” Hoseok voices, cutting the call. His dark eyes bore into yours. You can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he quickly checks you out from head to toe. 
Fuck! Did you overdress yourself? 
“Again, hoseok, I get paid for doing this.” you add a little playfully making him chuckle. 
This time, you check him out. 
He has chosen to wear a black turtleneck today, tucked inside tight black slacks, along with a black blazer. 
Miraculously enough, you have chosen to wear a black wrap dress. And you two look nothing short of a grim reaper couple today. 
You chuckle to yourself at the thought. 
“Do I? Do I look funny?” Hoseok asks in surprise. 
You wave your hands desperately to dismiss his thoughts, “No no. It's just that we look like a grim reaper couple today. Dressed in all black.” 
“Oh” hoseok laughs lightly, “but a couple regardless.” 
You lose both of your mind and heart at his statement. 
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The meeting went smoother than you expected it to. 
Obviously, the homeroom teacher couldn’t find her voice when you handed her Sua’s counseling reports. 
Even though she once tried to defend herself when Hoseok told her that she should have focused on Sua better, that she should have monitored her behavior and informed him if she was being quieter than usual. But she acknowledged her carelessness when you pointed out all the behavioral changes that were easy for a teacher to spot. 
She decided to talk to Jaemin and her parents personally and let you and Hoseok know of the outcome. And she also promised to take special care of Sua and transfer Jaemin to a different section to keep him away. 
“Do you think that kid and his parents will understand his mistakes?” Hoseok asks as you two walk through the corridor. 
“They should but that depends a lot on what kind of people they are. Since Jaemin is as old as Sua, it’s impossible for him to develop the concept of an illegitimate child by himself. He must have heard that somewhere, most likely from his mother. Even though it’s just my assumption, if that’s the case then his parents need to be schooled as well.” 
“Then we will need to meet them personally.”  
“Yes, if that kid refuses to leave Sua alone, we will have to meet them personally. And I will try my best to make them reflect on their mistakes, don’t worry.” you add briskly, stepping out of the school building. “I’ll take my leave now, bye.”
“No wait.” Hoseok holds your forearm, even though you haven’t moved an inch or tried to walk away from him. 
The foreground is full of parents but it seems like no one is paying you any attention, so you try to relax yourself at his touch. 
Hoseok eases too and lets his hand fall by his side, “do you have any plans for this evening?” 
“No. I don’t.” Your heart starts beating loudly. Is he going to ask you out or something?
“It’s almost 3:30 now and I assume you have had your lunch already. So, why don’t you have dinner with me and Sua? I am gonna pick her up from noona’s place on our way home.” Hoseok proposes. 
You think it through for a while. Dinner? At his place? Will you be alive by the end of the day? 
“I don’t think-” 
“Please, Y/N? Please?” Hoseok pleads, stepping towards you. 
“Okay then.” you let your resistance fall limp on the feet of your emotions. 
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Hoseok is not a good cook but he knows how not to mess simple things up. So he sticks to the basics - Kimchi fried rice and samgyeopsal, accompanied by all the banchan his mom and sister send him every week.
He knows he needs to focus on the vegetables while chopping those but he can’t keep his eyes from wandering towards you. 
You look so bold and beautiful today. The black wrap dress is perfectly professional yet too sexy. He wants to undo that tie and let the dress fall on your feet to discover whatever wonders you are hiding underneath. 
You giggle with Sua. Both of you are coloring something while you engage her in a casual conversation. 
Hoseok’s heart warms at the scene. 
This is what he always wanted. A small family, a mother-figure for sua and a partner for himself. But he knows he doesn’t deserve you. Why would you want a single father like him when you could have bachelors lining for you. 
But then again, you didn’t stop him when he was about to kiss you that day. You accepted his invitation even though Namjoon mentioned you to be strictly professional. And now you are at his house, sitting in his dining room, playing with her daughter as he cooks for the three of you in the kitchen. 
Is he being too greedy? 
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“You have got a beautiful balcony here.” You mutter staring at the sight ahead. 
“Really? Thank you.” Hoseok comes to stand beside you, handing you the glass of wine. 
“Yeah. your house, too, is very clean and organized, which is very rare for single parents, especially single fathers. It tells of the fact that you are, as a person, very sorted out.” You complete before taking a sip from your glass. 
Hoseok’s eyes are fixed on your side profile. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at how gorgeous you are. 
Then you turn your face towards him, giving him a lazy smile, you say “What? Am I wrong?” 
“No. Not at all. About cleanliness though, Sua helps a lot. Even though she is only seven, she knows how to keep things at their places. She’s truly much more mature than the kids of her age.” he smiles at the thought of her daughter. 
You smile too, remembering how she fell asleep keeping her head on your lap earlier. 
“Sua is very tired today.”  you whisper. 
“Yeah she is. She never slept before having her dessert. She is definitely very tired today.” Hoseok nods in agreement. 
“Do you know why she is tired?” 
“Why?” 
“Because she played around after a long time. She told me that she became friends with her hoobaes and taught them how to play red light, green light.” 
“What? Really?” 
“Yeah. She is getting better, Hoseok.” you finally turn towards the man fully and find him way too close to keep a respectable distance between two bodies. 
Hoseok, though, is loving the proximity. He wants to have you close, right now… forever. 
“And a lot of credit for that… goes to you. You are such an exceptionally great dad.” You smile up at him. Your heart is wilding inside your rib cage and you want to know if Hoseok is feeling the same.   
“What about me as a man in general?” Hoseok whispers, starting to lean down. You are irresistible and he doesn’t know how to control himself anymore. 
“That’s not under my diagnosis. I need to find that out personally. But my work ethic won’t allow me.” you let the words out of your mouth. But your body completely deceives you as you close whatever distance your bodies had left in between. 
The moment your body touches his, your eyes meet his pair, which are now hazy with lust, Hoseok loses it. 
“Fuck ethics” you hear him curse before his mouth crashes yours. His free hand winds around your waist, pulling you closer. You kiss him back instantly. 
Two pairs of lips mold perfectly against each other. 
Hoseok kisses you relentlessly, as if he has been hungry for your lips for a long time now. His hand holds you tightly to keep you in your place. 
Your free hand grabs him by his neck, kissing him with just as much urgency. 
He sucks your lower lip as you do the same with his upper one. Soon his tongue finds its way inside your mouth, testing every corner. 
You moan in his mouth when you feel his hands diving down to your ass and giving it a pleasant squeeze. 
“Stay the night?” Hoseok whispers parting for a bit, as a string of saliva connects both of your lips. 
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Taglist 1:-
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika
Taglist 2:-
@llallaaa @mikrokookiex @parkinglot-nights @hiqhkey @diamonddia-mond @00frenchfries00 @koalasandcuddles @superchamchi88 @ttanniett @coralmusicblaze @multiasf @kookscumrag @sumzysworld @knjjjk @xtrataerrestrial @survivalistghost @kelsyx33 @aann95 @btsffreader92 @jjk174 @dragonflygurl4 @xwniazx
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 3 months
Text
Taking care of his girls (part 1)
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)
Warnings: none
a/n: another girl dad Carlos because I just can't get enough
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Y/N's pov
The newborn stage is extremely challenging. Sleep deprivation caused by countless sleepless nights, lack of energy, baby crying even though she ate half an hour ago, trying to figure out the cause of her crying, colic, baby not latching, painful feedings or lack of milk production - all that and much more comes when you step into motherhood. Trust me, it is exhausting both physically and mentally and anyone who says otherwise is lying!
However, not much is talked about how demanding and tiring and difficult it is when you are burning with a fever and can barely stand on your feet, and you have a two-year-old daughter who also has a flu and who, in addition to all of that, is a very stubborn daddy's little girl and doesn't really like to listen to anyone except her dad. That two-year-old is our little girl Bea. Bea is a very stubborn and smart girl who is very attached to her dad and loves spending time with him. She is completely enchanted by him and whenever Carlos returns home from the race, she does not separate from him.
We've only recently started taking her to the races, but since she tends to run around the paddock and starts screaming when it's time for Carlos to get in the car, we've decided that we won't be able to follow Carlos everywhere he goes.
This time we could not attend the Grand Prix in Italy for another reason, and that reason was because I caught a flu, which almost knocked me off my feet, and two days later Bea was burning with a fever as well.
Being alone with her while I was sick, doing all the housework, cooking and taking care of her was very difficult and exhausting. I was very worried about her because she had a high temperature, she was very weak, she didn't want to eat much, she was crying all the time and she just wanted me to hold her in my arms and cuddle her.
Carlos returned from Italy to our home in Madrid yesterday and we both couldn't wait to see him. When he came back I could finally breathe a little, sit down and rest because he decided to take care of both of us.
It was the same today, even though I felt a little better, Bea was still coughing a lot and her nose was blocked, so I decided to go to the pharmacy to get a children's inhaler. Carlos decided to stay with her and fulfill all her wishes, and today the wish was cuddling and watching cartoons in the living room.
It took me quite a long time to get to the pharmacy, make the purchase and get back home, so I only returned after 45 minutes. The sight that greeted me when I entered the living room brought tears to my eyes, but happy tears full of gratitude.
Bea was lying curled up on Carlos' chest, his arms wrapped around her as his head fell back against the back of the couch his lips slightly parted as both of them were fast asleep while Dora the explorer begged for help in the background. Carlos tied her hair into a small ponytail on top of her head while her baby hairs were messily sticking out. For a moment I just stood next to the couch and watched them smiling and thinking how did I get so lucky?
"Babe" I approach Carlos from the back of the couch and whisper into his ear. "Babe, wake up." It took him a minute to realize they had fallen asleep and to wake up.
"Ay dios mío.." You could also hear the tiredness in his voice because he didn't sleep at all last night. He demanded that I rest and that he would look after Bea overnight.
"Let's take her to bed okay?" I say quietly trying not to wake her up.
"What time is it?" He asks.
"It's only 7 p.m. I'll take care of her tonight, you get some sleep okay?" I say caressing his cheek.
"No, no I'll do it You still haven't fully recovered amor and I want you to." He says leaving a kiss on my thumb. Just as Carlos slowly straightened up from a semi-lying position on the couch, Bea startled and started crying.
"Shh cariño, no llores." (shh darling don't cry) Carlos immediately began gently shushing her and rubbing her back as I sat next to them.
"Do you want to go sleep in mommy and daddy's bed baby?" I asked her placing a kiss on her hand. She doesn't usually sleep with us, but when she is sick we always let her.
"No" She rubbed her eyes nervously, still crying and burrying her head into the crook of Carlos neck. "Papa, mama" She whined extending her little hand towards me, but not wanting to leave Carlos' embrace.
"Está bien mi amor, mamá y papá están aquí, no te preocupes." Carlos said tightening his grip around her with one arm and with the other pulling me closer to them.
We quickly gave up on trying to talk her into going to bed because we realized it would only upset her even more so we both decided to curl up to Carlos.
"Mis princesas." I leaned my head against his shoulder wrapping my arm around our little bean as Carlos kissed both of our foreheads.
Part 2 here
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kinopio-writes · 3 months
Note
Hello! Could you write platonic Dad!Adam headcanons? Thank you,
A/N: Lol. Don’t expect too much out of this guy because…it’s Adam. Heavily focused on him rather than the reader, sorry. Also, I might have gone a little overboard with this one because, uh, this was supposed to be only headcanons as you said, and the not-requested ‘drabble’ ended up being a few scenarios with a one-on-one convo with Adam and Sera at the end. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it, btw. Enjoy.
Holy sh!t I reread your request again and I don’t know if you meant that the reader is supposed to be the child or fuuuuuuuu—tell me if that’s not what you wanted, I had fun writing this nonetheless.
Words: 727 (not including the bullet points)
Warnings: Very vulgar language because I kind of adapt to certain types of writing depending on the characters, Sex is mentioned, Adam being Adam
———
How Adam would be as a Father (Reader is the child)
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• first things first, the only way I can see Adam become a dad was because he accidentally impregnated a chick when she fucking swore that, oh, no, Adam, I’m on birth control. Oh, don’t worry, Adam, you don’t have to finish in my mouth. Oh, no need, Adam, I’ve got it covered. Oh, it’s okay, Adam—yes, this is Adam mocking her
• so imagine his surprise when he found a fucking child at his doorstep crying like a little bitch (it’s a child, dude)
• “What the fuck?” was his first reaction
• he’d find a note that said something-something about oh who gives a fuck about her and her sob story about having to leave the child in his care?
• what mattered was—“THAT FUCKING BITCH LIED TO ME!”
• after that whole ordeal, he would sit in his gigantic ass living room, slumping on his couch with arms crossed and grumbling complaints as if he was the child
• now, don’t tell me this guy knows anything about being a father
• because he doesn’t
• the first few weeks he would really just let someone else take care of the kid
• Lute would be the caretaker most of the time since she’s around Adam a lot
• the problem was that she’s an exterminator
• she wasn’t made for this (I headcanon that exterminators are entirely different beings that are created and are not exactly classified as angels. Explains why all the exterminators are women)
• her purpose was to kill sinners and she certainly didn’t have babysitting on her list of skills
• so eventually, the responsibilities would fall back on Adam
• of course, he had attempted to get in contact with the woman
• he came back with nothing
• wait, nothing? Holy shit, he left the baby—
• and, if you’re wondering, I don’t think Heaven has adoption centers or whatnot because everyone is responsible when they’re thinking of having a child *ahem ahem*
• but, hey, how hard would looking after a child would be?
• probably accidentally dropped the kid once before
• will get mad that he can’t do his guitar solos because they would start to cry even louder
• has probably nearly suffocated it by leaving a pillow in their crib (edited in because this just came to me)
• doesn’t know how to hold it properly
• eventually got it right by observing some of Heaven’s residents
• thinks he’s the best dad because of it
• speaking of residents, they most likely don’t know that the first man has a child
• dude, you really think he’d be caught dead with a kid?
• nuh-uh
• sometimes forgets he has a kid
• have left it in his—I headcanon—condominium completely unattended sometimes
• so, uh, yeah…not looking good for Adam here
let’s get on with the scenarios, shall we?
———
Adam covered his ears with his silk pillows, trying to muffle the sounds of that brat’s whining.
“Ugh! Shut up, Shut up!” Of course, it didn’t shut up.
He banged his head on the pillow repeatedly, swearing he was going to fucking throw this fucking child off the fuCKING BALCONY IF IT DOESN’T SHUT UP—
He had enough and went over to the crib in the corner of his bedroom, snarling. “Y’know, since your mommy was such a quiet whore you’d expect the brat to act the same. She should’ve been honored that she even got my dick. Mine. And this is how she fucking repays me?” The child in question looked up at their father, their cries coming to an eventual stop as he rambled on and on. “Finally.”
The moment he left their sight, however, they started to cry once more.
“OH MY GOD—”
———
Adam arrived home tired as shit balls.
“Not fucking now, bitch,” he dismissed when they reached for him from their place in the crib as he flopped himself on his king-sized bed. At least it wasn’t crying. Rather, it was babbling and flailing its hands and feet. While it was a nice change, it was still annoying to listen to.
Eventually, he decided to shut it up and lazily dragged himself over to the crib, picking it up in his hands and setting it near his shoulder.
“Ugh, there there. Or whatever.” He idly patted the child’s back, plopping back on his bed.
Surprisingly, the kid soon fell asleep without further complaints, nuzzling into their father’s comfortable robe.
Ugh, rude. It fell asleep before he could bitch about his day as he usually did. Instead, he grumbled his own day to himself, his eyelids growing heavy as time passed by.
Adam later dozed off with the baby in his arms, snoring loudly as his wings wrapped around him and the child in his seldom peaceful slumber.
———
The living room was dark. Heaven’s natural light poured through his open windows and the TV played a movie that was most definitely not suited for young audiences. At least it wasn’t anything sexual. Heaven forbid.
In the midst of the oddly serene environment that is Adam’s residence, holy light flashed from beside his couch and the tall figure of Sera appeared. Adam instantly turned the TV off.
“Adam, pardon my intrusion. You still haven’t submitted your forms and they were due yesterday—” Sera interrupted herself when her eyes landed on the baby next to the first man.
“Sera, what gives? Can’t you see I’m busy? Where’s your sense of privacy? Jeez.”
“Adam, is that a child?” she asked rather accusatorily.
“Ugh, yeah, so what?”
“I didn’t think you would—where’s your wife?” She brushed her hair back behind her shoulder, her brows furrowed. “Um, I figured that after Lilith and Eve—”
“Pshh, you’d think this guy would settle down for anyone? Puh-lease. Imagine a world where you can’t fuck the original dick. Worse than any nightmare you could ever dream of.” Adam averted his gaze as his shoulders tensed up.
“So you care for this child alone? By yourself?” Sera looked more worried than ever, which Adam instantly latched on to.
“Are you doubting me? I started humankind—I know what I’m doing.” He settled his arms on the headrest, legs raising to rest on the coffee table as he gave a lazy shrug.
“How long have you kept this child?”
“What’s with all the questions? Uh, I dunno, more than two months, I guess?”
“What is its name?”
“Oh, uh…” Shit. He didn’t really think about that. He only kept calling it ‘kid’ or ‘brat’. “Adam Jr!” he blurted out the first thing that went through his mind. “Yeah, that’s right, everyone would immediately know that this kid is from me, Adam.”
Sera only narrowed her eyes. “Very well. I’m surprised you managed to keep this hidden from me. The child—”
“Adam Jr.”
“…Adam Jr. seems to be doing fine in your hands. But raising a child is no easy feat, Adam.” She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes momentarily. “We will have our discussion regarding your work tomorrow. Have a good night.”
As the seraphim was engulfed with holy light once more, vanishing as quickly as she came, Adam was left to think if the hassle was really worth this brat.
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mj0702 · 4 months
Text
The other Bronze - Part One
Here we go again 🤣 Thank you (as always) to Crush and Bubs
(the bad Spanish is courtesy of Google and if you find typos or anything please point them out to me 😉)
Y/n POV
You finally walked the last steps towards the door of your Sisters small house at the Outskirts of Barcelona. What you're doing in Barca on a random Friday Night? You wanted to surprise Lucy for her Birthday. It took a lot of begging to Mum and Dad to let you fly all on your own from Manchester to Barcelona and when you turned your phone on after landing, you had 26 missed calls and 15 messages already, the last one from your older Brother Jorge telling you to text him if the Plane crashed and you died – real Clown that one. You phoned Mum, telling her that the Flight was just a little delayed and that your still very much alive and not Shark food in the Ocean. You knew Lucy had training, so you stayed a little longer at the Airport, watching people, drinking Coffee. You found some nice company in a Girl, who waited for her Girlfriend and surprisingly spoke English. So know you're currently walking up the steps towards Lucy's front door, her spare key (which you got from Mum, in case Lucy wasn't home), my Earplugs blasting Music and you opened the door – boy what a mistake.
„Luuuucccyyyy!! Happy Birth... OH MY GOD MY EYES!!! OH EW!!“ you started to yell out in horror before spotting my Sister on her Couch. Naked. With another Girl on her knees in front of her, her head buried between your Sisters legs. You turned around as quick as you could, shutting the Door behind you. A few minutes later, some shuffling and swearing from the inside, said door got ripped open again.
„What are you doing here?“ Lucy asked you and you couldn't tell if she was pissed off or just annoyed.
„Surprise??“ you say, your back still facing her.
„Why do you have a Key to my Apartment? You can turn around by the way“ she sounded annoyed, which was good – annoyed is better than pissed off.
„Mum... I just saw things I never wanted to see ever“ you shrugged like it was self-explanatory. „Dear bloody Jesus“ your Sister huffed out, before grabbing your Arm, starting to pull you inside, as you tried to stop her by holding on to the Door frame
„I'm NOT going back in there again“ you say, gagging for good measure.
„Stop being difficult“ Lucy said, putting her arm around your Shoulders instead, having more leverage. Back inside you were sat down at the Kitchen table, the Girl from earlier just making some Coffee.
„I hope you sanitized that Table“ you mumbled, before looking at your Sister „No way you haven't fu...“
„If you finish that Sentence, I'll call Mum telling her that you broke that ugly Vase at Christmas three years ago“ Lucy narrowed her eyes at you, before turning to the Girl „Ona... this is my overly annoying baby Sister y/n... devils spawn... this is Ona, my Girlfriend“
You just looked at the Girl with a blank face nor knowing how to react to these news.
„Manners“ Lucy growled at you and slapped the back of your Head
„Hola“ you said to Ona, not really knowing what to think of her.
„Hola“ Ona smiled back, putting a cup of Coffee in front of you, which Lucy took away the instant it touched the Table „No hay café para ella“ she said to Ona, while ignoring your frustrated „Oi!!“.
„Por qué?“ the dark haired woman asked.
„Look at her.... she's already a pest, I don't need her caffeinated up“ Lucy answered, finally in English, while pointing at you.
„Aye you Arsepiece“ you huffed out, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
„You're English, not Scottish, ya wee shite“ your Sister grinned at you, but finally came over, ruffling you Hair, which is Lucy language for „I love you“.
“I was born in Scotland therefore I’m Scottish” you grumble out.
„I don't understand a word you two say“ Ona said confused, her spanish accent thick as she speaks english and Lucy laughed out loud
„All good...“. She then looks at you again „But seriously... what are you doing here?“.
„Wanted to surprise you for your Birthday... haven't seen you since the Euros“ you mumble a little embarrassed
„You... missed me“ Lucy smirked
„No... how could I miss your annoying Ass?“ you answered quickly and she KNEW she hit a nerve
„I missed you too, Devils Spawn“ she said, pulling you into a side hug
„You never told me you had a younger Sister, Lucia“ Ona said, smiling slightly at our interaction
You just raise an eyebrow at Lucy „Lucia? What have you done to fuck up so badly, that she uses your actual name?“
„Lucia is more common here, you daft punk...“ Lucy rolled her eyes at you still holding you to her side before answering her Girlfriend „I try to keep her away from the Spotlight“
„Oh...“ Ona said, like she understands, which you doubted „I'll leave you two to catch up, I'm going to go...“ she smiled
„Weren't you about to come a little while ago?“ you blurted out, which earned you a very hard punch to the shoulder courtesy of your lovely Sister
Ona just look confused, which causes you to laugh „You can explain that one, Kneeless... Bathroom that way?“.
As you renter the Kitchen, you see Lucy and Ona kissing in the Doorway. You comment it with a loud dry heaving sound. Lucy blindly throws a shoe at you, which misses by miles and you snap a photo of her. You can only see Lucys back and Onas Hands around her Neck, so it's obvious that there's someone else, but you can't see who. You sit back down at the Table, your Stomach starting to growl and you realize just how late it is. You shot up and run up to Lucy, grabbing her shirt, pulling hard successfully ending the make out session
„You have to phone Mum that I'm here, otherwise she'll send a search party and I'm already dead, because I didn't text her that I arrived safely“ you stumble over your words, because nothing is more scary than Mum Bronze in Mum Mode. Lucy rolled her eyes, pecking Onas lips again for a final goodbye, before pushing you back into the Apartment again
„You realize what I just gave up for you?“
„Multiple Orgasms, I know... I don't want to know, but I know... can I post a picture, saying I'm with you?“ you murmur the end of your question, knowing Lucy is very picky with private Pictures and even more, when you're involved
„Let me first call Mum, then let me check the Picture, then we decide what we get for dinner, okay?“ she pressed a Kiss to your temple, already her Phone in Hand, dailing Home.
She was on the Phone to Mum forever, apologizing telling her she was so happy to see you that we forgot to call her. Straight A+ lie, but if someone can pull it off, it's Lucy
„You owe me, Smol“ she said after ending the Call „Now show me that picture, so I can say No and we can go finding food, since my fridge is empty and I planned on eating something else tonight“ she grinned, as you start to dry heave again.
„Please... i REALLY don't want to think about it“ you say pained
Lucy laughed out loudly and you smiled. You really missed her.
„Show me the Picture“ she said, encouraging you, a smile playing around her lips, as you show her.
„That's a good one“ Lucy said after a minute of looking at it closely handing you the phone back „You can use that one... Just don't tag Ona please“
„I don't even know who she is“ you said looking apologetic „but I think she's nice“
Your Sister laughed again „She is... haven't felt like this since Keira“
„Why did you and Keira split up? I really liked her“ you said and Lucy looked at you for a second, really looked at YOU before answering
„We just fell out of Love... nobodies fault... it just happened and it wasn't fair to either of us to keep pretending“ Lucy said carefully, yet seriously, knowing that Topic was difficult for you
„As cliche as it sounds, but we're still friends and I know, Keira will be over the Moon seeing you again“. Truth is, when Lucy and Keira split up you refused to talk to your Sister for weeks, not grabbing fully why she would leave Keira. Keira who was a mixture between a big Sister and a Mother to you. Keira, who made you laugh, when you where sad. Keira, who carried you to bed, when you fell asleep during a Movie. Keira, who held you when you came crying into Lucys Bedroom, just woken up from a Nightmare. In the End, you was just too young to grab fully what was happening. Maybe not too young but you couldn’t understand the feelings behind it.
„Was it my fault?“ you whispered, always the nagging feeling at the back of your Head, that it was your fault they split up.
„What?“ Lucy asked confused „No... of course not! Y/n listen to me... it had NOTHING to do with you“
„But if I would have acted more grown up and not come running nearly every night..“ you stared and Lucy immediately knew what it was about
„Y/n... it had nothing to do with that... nothing! You went through something traumatic and we were honestly glad you trusted us enough to come to us or let us calm you down when you had a nightmare“ she said insistently, holding your look „You had nothing to do with what happened between Keira and I, do you understand me?“
„I just... I feel like it's my fault“ you look down, playing with your fingers
„It's not... and if you don't believe me, you can ask Keira...“ Lucy said, grabbing your Hands in hers, holding them tightly „It just happened“
You let her pull you into a hug and for the first time in a long time you felt safe and home.
„Thanks Luce“ you mumbled against her shoulder
„Always ya wee shite“ she said and you felt her smiling into your Hair.
Yes, even at 16 years old, Lucy is a whole Head bigger than you were. Your stomach growled again and Lucy laughed „What do you want to eat, I'll order“
„I'm in Spain... obviously I want Fish and Chips, Idiot... I want authentic spanish food“ you said sarcastically
„Smartass“ she rolled her eyes „We could also go out, whatever you want“
„It's YOUR Birthday... why do I have to choose? “ you said, honestly confused
„I was trying to be nice... I know a small little Restaurant, not too far from here“ she grinned at you
„Do I have to change for it?“ you asked, looking down at your button down shirt, ripped jeans and the baby blue chucks
„Other shoes and you're good to go“ Lucy said as she threw a pair of NIKEs your way „I'll just go change, don't do anything stupid“ she pointed her finger threatenly at you
„Never, my beloved Sister“ you say sarcastically.
While Lucy is changing, you decided against posting the picture of Lucy and Ona kissing online. You know your Sister values her privacy and even she gave you the ok, it didn't feel right – but that doesn't mean you couldn't send it to someone else... Keira.
Y/n: ~ inserts picture ~ It finally happened Kei... I walked in on her... thankfully I haven't eaten today, otherwise Lucy would have to clean that up too
Keira: You're in Barcelona, Bitsy?! Why didn't you tell me?
Y/n: Sure am... wish I wasn't tho... ehm... surprise?
Keira: I hope you didn't plan to fuck off without saying hi... and don't kid yourself, Bitsy... that definitely wasn't the first time you walked in on your Sister ;)
Y/n: of fucking course not... and how would you know that, Ms. Walsh?
Keira: Because I was there :p
After you read Keiras last Text, you threw your Phone to the other End of the Couch with a loud „EW!!“.
Lucy came running from the Bedroom, looking at you shocked „What happened?? Are you okay?“. „I walked in on you and Keira???“ you cried out in agony.
„What?“ Lucy looked at you confused. You showed her your Phone, which caused her to laugh – full on belly laugh „Oh yeah... I forgot about that“ Lucy laughed.
„I WALKED IN ON YOU AND KEIRA???“ you screeched horrified.
„Yep... multiple times actually“ Lucy grinned.
„Oh god... I think I need to throw up? When... wait no... don't answer that“
Your Sister laughed again, throwing a coat towards you, silently telling you that you were leaving. „Is it okay, if I invite some people?“ she asked you, as you leave the Apartment.
„It's your Birthday, Luce – you can invite whoever you want“ you shrugged your Shoulders. „Whomever“ Lucy corrected you automaticly, before she pulled out her phone and send some texts. „Smartass“ you mumble as your Sister put her Arm around your Shoulders, manoeuvring you through the City.
Just as you rounded a corner into a small side road, someone shoulder checked you, turning around, yelling something in spanish at you. You looked at the guy confused, feeling Lucy going into protective Mode, making herself bigger by your Side. Before she could say anything, you looked at the Guy, yelling at him „Cállate la Boca, matildo hijo de puta!“
Your Sister looked shocked at you as does the Guy. You put on your best Bronze-Fightingface, before making a step towards him. Just as the Guy made up his mind and also took a step towards you, a Woman pushed right in between you two oozing confidence and started talking calmly to the Guy. She was pretty but damn – she was intimidating. The Guy talked back twice, before turning around, leaving the little alley
„What the Hell, Y/n??“ Lucy yelled at you „What the hell did you say to that guy? I understood ONE word and know it wasn't a compliment – and since when do you speak spanish?“
She then turned to the Woman „Hola Alexia... Gracias por interferir“
„Ningún problema“ the woman smiled at my Sister
„And you“ she turned to you „Where did you learn that?“
And there was that intimidating look again, which made you gulp. You grew up with Lucy Bronze, but this woman scared you. You pushed yourself behind your Sister, trying to hide
„Answer her“ Lucy pulled you out from behind her.
You just shook your Head and mumbled „She scares me Luce“
„Good“ your Sister mumbled „now answer her“
You shook your Head again. The woman looked at you and smiled slightly
„Excuse me. Hi, my name is Alexia, I'm a teammate and friend of your Sister“
You're still careful, not to stand to close to her „Hi... Y/n... I'm.. the Sister of my Sister“
This actually made her laugh, while Lucy groaned and started to rub her forehead embarrassed
„So... now that we know each other, where did you learn to offend spanish people? As much as I gathered, you don't speak spanish..“ Alexia said and immediately she got all scary again
„I... no... yes?“ You looked at her and tried to hide behind Lucy again, who groaned again. „Cariño.... my patience is wearing quite thin... you better start talking” Alexia said sweetly, but you knew it was a fair warning
“A girl at the Airport taught me... I just tried to order a coffee, which is SO hard in your country and the Barista didn't understand me and she kinda took over and ordered for me... as a thank you, I paid for hers... and we sat together as she waited for her Girlfriend and since we had time, she taught me some spanish” you stutter out
“Do you even know what you just said?” Alexia looked at you shocked
“ehrm... no... but the girl said I have to put on a Bitchface after saying it... she was cool...”
“Y/n... you just can't throw around spanish phrases, because SOMEONE told you” Lucy pressed.
“She look trustworthy” you defended yourself
“Cariño...” Alexia said softly “... don't EVER say that again, because you will get hurt in the process”
“Is it bad?” you ask unsure
“It is...” the Spanish woman said “... and if I ever find that Girl, that taught you, I will have a VERY serious talk with her... in spanish” she winked at you
“What are the Odds” you mumbled and Lucy looked at you
“What odds?” she asked you confused
“That girl just turned around the Corner” you said, pointing at a Girl, laughing loudly with some other girls
“I should have known” Alexia groaned out “María Pilar León Cebrián!!! Nosotras necesitamos hablar!!!” she yelled out
The Girl in questions Head snapped towards Alexias angry Voice, her laughter dying in her throat. She made eye contact with you, her eyes went comically wide and you could swear, you saw her mouthing the word “Fuck”, before slowly starting to walk backwards
“Oh please do” Alexia sneered, while walking towards Maria “Please start running, so I can chase after you because after I caught you, I'm gonna drag your sorry Ass up to Nuo and let you run Laps until Training is over and then some more...”
You turned towards your Sister “Isn't Nuo Egg?” you ask confused
“Huevo is Egg.. Nuo is the Stadium where we train and play” Lucy explained
“Ah... and why is Alexia calling me Cariño ... is that some weird spanish name?” you said, still confused
This Time Lucy laughed out loud, while Alexia is “actively” having a word with Maria – she was outright yelling at the poor Girl. You actually did feel sorry for her. Maria looked very guilty, trying to explain, but not getting a word in.
“Cariño is a form of endearment... something like Honey”
“Excuse me?? She could have at least taken me out on a Date first” you huffed, but smiled.
“Are you causing trouble already?” a voice behind you said amused. You turned around and sprinted off, throwing yourself in the Womans arms.
“I missed you, Keira” you mumbled into her neck, while she's hugging you tightly
“I missed you too, Bitsy” she kissed your Hair, not breaking the contact
You felt safe in her arms. Lucy came over after getting over her initial shock of you just sprinting off
“For once, it wasn't her causing the Trouble... it was Mapí” Lucy said, nodding towards a still yelling Alexia with her head
“What a surprise – Mapí causing trouble... these two would absolutely cause havoc” Keira laughed, not letting go of you
“Take a guess, why Mapí is getting yelled at... they have met already” your Sister grinned
“Oh god” Keira groaned laughing “What has Mapí done?”
“She taught me spanish” you said proudly
“What did she teach...” the other english woman started before getting interrupted by Lucy “Don't!!!! Don't ask!”
Keira was a little taken aback, but didn't ask any further
“She taught me a phrase... apparently it's a bad one and I'm not allowed to say it again, otherwise the scary Woman will have my Ass” you said, still pressed into Keiras side
“Scary Woman?” Keira raised an eyebrow at Lucy
“Alexia” your Sister answered shrugging her shoulders
“Mapí would like to say something” said Woman stood behind you three, her hand grabbing the back of Marias neck, who looked like a kicked puppy
“Lamento mucho haberte enseñado algo malo” the smaller Woman mumbled, clearly not happy or comfortable with the situation
“En Inglés” Alexia rolled her eyes “As you maybe remember, little Bronze doesn't speak spanish”. “Su hermana lo hace - ella puede traducir” Maria said
“Maria” Alexia warned “Deja de ser difícil y discúlpate correctamente”
“I'm sorry for teaching you bad spanish” the younger woman huffed out annoyed
“It's...” you started, before Alexia interrupted you “And now we try to say that, like we really mean it” she said to Mapí, grabbing her neck a little tighter
“I'm sorry” the younger girl winced
“Very good” Alexia smiled, but everyone saw it was fake, before getting a stern face again “You still will run laps tomorrow”
“What??? I apologized” Mapí said shocked
“Still doesn't change the fact, that you nearly caused a fight – if I hadn't stepped in, she most like would have end up in the Hospital with a broken nose... or worse” Alexia said
“Oi!” you yelled out “I may be small, but I can hold myself, thank you very much”
“We” Alexia looked at you sternly “Will talk tomorrow”
You gulped again, making yourself smaller at Keiras side, who had watched the whole interaction with an amused grin on her face.
“Can we get food now?” you whispered into Keiras side
The Midfielder laughed loudly “Let's go” she said as she pulled you into the small Restaurant, everyone following you. You sat between Lucy and Alexia, Mapí to Alexias right, next to her her Girlfriend Ingrid, Keira was to Lucys left with one seat free in between them for when Ona would join.
“What's edible here?” you ask to no one particular, studying your menu.
“Should I order for you, Cariño?” Alexia ask, wanting to make you feel welcome and comfortable “If this is you aassuming that this is a date, then no...” you say distracted, still try to figure out the menu.
Alexia was taken aback, while your Sister laughed.
“But what is... potatoes braves?” you asked, looking up confused.
Mapí clutched her heart dramatically “My heart... my Heart burns... I think I have a heart attack.. is this what a heart attack feels? My poor Heart”
“What is her deal?” you asked your Sister, who already had tears in her eyes from laughing
“You just absolutely BUTCHERED her language and food” Keira said, her tone dry as usual still looking over the menu.
“But it says there...” you climbed on top of Lucy, your Knee pressing into her thigh, causing her to groan out in pain, to show Keira on the Menu “Potatoes braves... or something like that”
“Patatas Bravas” Keira corrected you “It is potatoes, but it's not called Potatoes and definitely not Braves..”
“Look at you, all fancy spanishing” you rolled your eyes at her, but she knew you didn't mean it.
“Could you please finally get off me?” Lucy groaned out, pushing you back on your chair “When did you get so heavy?”
“Are you calling me fat, Arse biscuits??” you challenged her by raising an eyebrow
“What if I do, Twat McFuckknuckle?” Lucy taking your bait, raising her eyebrow as well
“Stop it! Both of you, we have company AND in public” Keira said sharply, successfully interrupting your interaction “God the two of you – always trouble”
You kicked Lucys ankle lightly under the Table, she shoving you, pushing you successfully into Alexia.
“Sorry... she pushed me” you mumbled out, while shoving Lucy back.
Alexia looked at Keira “Are they always this violent towards each other?”
“Oh this isn't violent – this is actually them behaving” Keira smiled fake, watching you two shoving each other “Just wait till there's food on the Table – THEN it gets violent”.
Just as they were about to order, Ona joined the small Group, pressing a small Kiss to Lucys lips. You watched that interaction with a frown on your face. You cared deeply for Keira and assumed it wasn't easy on her watching her Ex and her new Girlfriend kissing right in front of her. You carefully looked at Keira, but saw her laughing with Ingrid, who changed seats for conversation purposes.
“What's this dark look on your face, Cariño?” Alexia whispered in your ear, unknowing to you, she always had an eye on you.
“Nothing” you said flatly, not wanting to start a scene “I'm just hungry”
It was your Sisters Birthday after all and she looked very happy with Ona.
“Dinner will be served soon, don't worry” the Barca captain said lightly, putting a hand on your bouncing knee.
“Ale?” Mapí asked from Alexias other side.
“Si?” the woman in question looked at her younger Teammate
“Can we swipe seats?” Mapí asked hopefully.
You look at her confused “You want to what?”
“Swipe seats... I take Alexias, she sits in my seat” the young spanish said
“Oh... OH... you mean swap...” you say as you realize what she wants “and they say I butcher a language”
“No” Alexia said sternly “before you ask, you two won't be anywhere unsupervised”
“Oi” you exclaim “I'm very capable of looking after myself”, while Mapí exclaimed something in spanish.
“No idea what she said, but she's right” you say, pointing at Mapí
“Enough” Alexia said sternly, both of you stop complaining immediately.
Keira looked impressed at Alexia, trying to hide her smirk. Lucy was in her own world with Ona, ignoring everything around her. Finally there was Food on the Table and before the Plagrabfor everyone even were placed on the Table, you and Mapí already starting to grab whatever you could reach. Alexia watched in horror, as you two just loading food on your own plates without waiting for the rest “Excuse me? María León... I know for a fact that you have manners and won't just load your plate with food without WAITING for everyone else – especially for the Woman who celebrates her birthday today... isn't that right, María?”
Mapí looked down on her plate guilty, before starting to put the food back.
“I thought so” Alexia said, still a mad undertone in her voice
You on the other Hand didn't care one bit. You grew up in the Bronze household. You snooze, you loose. You threw a little fried something into your mouth, chewing happily. That was until the spiciness kicked in. Your eyes went wide, tears starting to form in your eyes and you started to have problems to breath. As always, you turned to Keira for help, throwing food at her to get her attention.
“Y/n please... I didn't raise you for years so you start throwing food in public” the Woman said, turning to you before realizing what was happening. Once she saw you in your distressed state, she immediately came over, pulling you out of your chair and out of the restaurant. Lucy finally noticed her surroundings, as Keira pulled you outside. She jumped up, following the two of you outside
“What happened?” Lucy asked worried, seeing you having difficulties to breath and tears streaming down your face.
“I don't know. She suddenly started to throw food at me, I actually was about to tell her off, but saw her having problems to breath and got her out” Keira gave Lucy a rundown, while keeping you upright
“It's okay, Bitsy... calm down” Keira started to talk to you in a low, soothing voice “Take a deep breath for me”
You tried to follow her instructions, but with no luck. Lucy finally sprung into action grabbing you by your shoulders, making you look at her
“Did you eat something?”
You nod, still trying your hardest to breath.
“Spicy?”
You nod again, thankful that your Sister keeps a cool head.
“You're doing good, Bubs... Do you know what you've eaten?”
You shake your head.
“Okay... we can work with that” Lucy said, a small reassuring smile on her lips, turning to Keira “Could you get something dairy.. milk... yoghurt... whatever”
“Sure” Keira smiled before disparaging inside the Restaurant.
“It's okay, Bubs... it's going to get better soon, I promise – just... don't shovel everything into your gob without asking next time.. these guys here are absolutely unholy when it comes to spicy food”. Just as your Sisters calm voice started to work on your nerves, Keira appeared with a glass of milk AND yoghurt
“Drink Bitsy” she smiled assuringly at you, pushing the glass of milk into your hands.
You took a sip and immediately felt your tight chest loosen up. Greedily you drowned the whole glass, feeling better with every gulp.
“Fuck” was the first word, that left your mouth after you regain your breathing again.
“You okay now, Bubs?” Lucy asked concerned.
“Getting there” you said, leaning forward, your hands on your knees “But I think I need to throw up”
Lucy pulled you upright quickly “Are you serious?”
“Yep” you breathed deeply, your stomach on a wrath for torturing it
“I'm getting you home right now” your Sister said seriously “Spicy is one thing, but your stomach is normally made of steel, that's not normal”
You just groaned
“Stay” Keira said to your Sister “It's your Birthday – I'll take her to my Place and have an eye on her... you stay and enjoy your evening, okay?”
“I can't ask that of you, Kei” Lucy said softly
“You're not asking... I'm offering” Keira smiled softly “If she feels up for it, we can meet for brunch or lately at training”
“Thank you” Lucy whispered, hugging her Ex-Girlfriend before turning to you “You behave... be good for Keira”
You nod before Keira wraps you into a hug, leading you away.
As soon as you're out of earshot and view, Keira let go of you and grinned knowingly “You can stop pretending now...”
You looked at her shocked “How did you know?”
“I was always able to tell... your sister is right, you have a stomach made of steel... your whole face changed after you drank the milk and I knew you're alright again... what I don't know is why you put on a show” the english Woman smirked at you, as she called you out
“Didn't want you to put up with Lucy and her new One being all lovey-dovey all evening... and I didn't want to put up with it either” you mumble caught.
Keira started to laugh loudly “Oh Bitsy... I see that lovey-dovey every day... it's okay for me... Lucy deserves to be happy...”
You looked at Keira and she knew there was more to it.
“What's wrong, Bitsy?” she ask lovingly
“I feel like it's my fault you broke up...” you mumble, having a hard deja-vu
“Oh sweetheart... no it's not... Lucy and I just grew apart. It happens and it's nobodies fault, especially not yours... but there's more, isn't it?” Keira said softly
“I don't like the new one” you mumble out, looking down embarrassed
“Why? Ona is a good person, she's good to and for your Sister”
“She looks like she doesn't even need to shave” you exclaimed.
Keira bursted out laughing “You're one of a kind, Bitsy... trust me... Ona is a good Person and she's good for Lucy... I know you're always struggling with change, but please.. give Ona a chance, she'll surprise you”
“M'kay” you mumble.
You arrived at Keiras Apartment, she let you both in before setting up her guest room for you. You went on exploring Keiras home. You were about to open a cabinet as she called from the guest room “Don't you dare open my Cabinets... I love you but you're a clutz”.
You quickly let go of the handle, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall instead. You spotted one of yourself and Lucy, sound asleep on your Couch in Manchester. You laid on top of Lucy, while she was sprawled out under you, her right arm over your back, holding you safely, her knee carefully placed on some pillows, her glasses askew on her face, your hand fisted in her shirt.
“I love that picture” Keiras voice soft behind you “I came back from training, wondering why she hadn't answered my texts about dinner... I walked in and both of you were softly snoring on the Couch. Your leg was so close to her freshly operated knee, that I was afraid you'd hurt it, if you move and I tried to lift you off her, but both of you started to stir as soon as I moved you. So I just let you sleep – after I took a picture. I think Lucy slept for another hour and you slept for nearly three more hours”
Keiras voice was soft and full of love, that you started crying silently. Another picture showed Lucy and Keira in a park, you asleep in between them. You pointed at the picture, your back still facing her.
“London” Keira said understanding you even without words “Our first anniversary.. She planned this whole Weekend to the brim, with fancy Restaurant, Musical Show, Sightseeing... everything... then your parents got so sick with the flu, that we took you with us... her plans went so fast out the window” Keira laughed quietly “but we improvised and instead of fancy restaurant we did pick-nick in Hyde Park – and I wouldn't change it for the world. You were so done after a day of exploring the city and all of the sights, that you were out like light as soon as you sat down”
You pointed at the next picture, again the three of you.
“You can't remember this one?” she asks you surprised.
“I do” you whisper “but... please”
“Paris” Keira said softly “Third anniversary.. Lucy just joined Lyon and invited me over to France for our anniversary She told me, she has the weekend off and wanted to take me to Paris – I honestly thought she would propose... Somehow you heard Lucy talking to your mum and begged her to let you come as well. It was the first time you two were separated and everyone could see that it was so hard on you. Lucy said as long as I'm okay with it, you could come. I remember you being so over the top with your nerves, that you ran around the Airport like a maniac... I lost you twice” Keira chuckled “and as soon as we started, you were out like a light again. In Paris, I had do carry you off the Plane, because you wouldn't wake up – and I still had to get our luggage AND carry you. It took me forever and Lucy was starting to panic that I bailed until she saw me, packed like a Donkey holding onto your sleeping form, dragging our bags behind me. And what did she do? She first smiled and then laughed – but it was the most beautiful sound in the world to me”
“Do you miss her?” you asked quietly.
“Of course I do” Keira answered honestly.
“Do you still love her?”
“I love her, yes... but I'm not IN love with her” she said.
You finally turned around, hugging her tightly.
“I miss you at home... so much” you mumble into her shoulder, tears rolling down your cheeks. Keira held you tightly “Oh sweet girl.. I miss you too – I really do”
You stayed like this for a moment, before your eyes grew heavy and Keira carefully walked the two of you towards the Guest bedroom, not letting go of you. You held onto her for dear life, letting her guide you.
As Keira kicked the door of the Guest room open, you mumble into her shoulder “Don't wanna sleep alone”
The english Woman chuckled lightly “I thought so... I just thought I'd offer, just in case... being a good host and everything”
She guided you towards her own Bedroom and sat you down on the Bed. You already were half asleep and whined tiredly as Keira let go of you. She smiled at your hunched over form
“Hush you... I need to change and get ready for bed – you too by the way”
You whined again “too much effort”
“Come on” Keira pulled at your Shirt “Teeth, Face, Change”
You felt like being Seven all over again.
“Nooooo” you whined out.
“Don't start... I'm not Lucy, I'm not a push-over... seven years of me in your life should have taught you that” Keira said severe.
You huffed heavy-hearted, before pushing off the Bed, shuffling towards the bathroom.
Keira smiled to herself “Still a big baby”.
After both of you went through your nightly Routine, with Keira basically brushing your teeth for you and changed your button down shirt with a normal shirt to sleep in, you made it into bed, where you immediately cuddled into Keiras arms and closed your Eyes. The older Woman kissed the Crown of your Head as she mumbled sweet nothings into the dark room, knowing you'd fall asleep in an instant.
Part 2 follows... at some point 😅
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