#And that made me realize I was mad at MYSELF for not just... letting myself BE myself.
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Didn't felt like mentioning it immediately but shoutout to my sick and twisted brain for getting so triggered by an unexpected Christmas parade that I ended up havin the absolute worst panic attack of my entire life (potentially the only real one? I've had a couple other episodes I thought of as panic attacks but they were not even close to that so who knows) to the point where I spent the very last day of my 30th year on this earth in the ER, good times, good times 😊
#that was 10 days ago and i honestly was fine immediately after it ended so don't worry for me <3#but yeah this shit was crazy holy hell#like i knew intellectually that 'feeling like you're dying' is a symptom of a panic attack but *actually* feeling it is another thing...#and even at the worst i was like 'ok i'm clearly having a panic attack it's not nice but it's gonna be ok'#but there was a piece of my brain that was like 'ok but what if your mom or grandma had told themselves that...'#'when they were having heart attack? They would have died and so will you 😊'#and i was like shit can't argue with that better get my ass to the hospital before i die#spoiler alert: i didn't died#ironically enough the revolting state of our healthcare system is lowkey what helped me calmed the fuck down#because i was tiny but i do remember when my mom had her heart attack and they sure as hell didn't let her wait for 7h+#so when i realized that this is what was gonna happen after i spent a brief moment with a nurse i was just like...oh i'm fine actually lol#and then i had to go take the bus in my fake crocs that i usually never wear outside of the house smh#interestingly enough my phobia of hospital seems to have competely disappear! which makes me believe that it was more a trauma response#than an actual phobia#not that the name changes that much but still interesting development#also no i'm not wearing a mask because nobody gave me one#that's actually one of the thing that made me leave lmao#oh and btw the christmas parade is true but also a bit more complex than that#basically i had a full sleepless night and i was mad so i decided to go buy myself some weed#turned out that there was a huge christmas parade 5 minutes away from the weed store so i hade to find another way#and then i got lost on the way back#and saw no less than 3 big fights between different homeless people#including one man randomly kicking another man's dog (which kinda really messed with me tbh)#and then i smoked a big joint (first one in like 10 days) with 0 sleep and zero food in my body#and then i took the bus#and then the bus driver yelled at an elderly man for not waiting at the right place#and then i took a sip of water and for some truly strange reason my brain decided that the water had gone in my lungs#and that i was actively drowning#and the rational part of me was like...girl that's not what drowning feels like what are you even talking about??#and then my brain went 'well if we're not drowning than we're having a heart attack'
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☔️
#having a family has never been anything but a burden for me sadly#i always feel like a burden who drags my family down#but truth is i dont bother them. i only let things affect me and myself#i never do anything that affect my family#this is harsh but i have to vent....#because of things and my mom not making it work#she'll be completely without money for july and august#that is really bad bc we are already poor#and without her income we're basically screwed#i feel frustrated bc i do mine. i do what i need to do#they've always been mad at me for being a failure and a fuck up but i've always made sure i do what i have to to get my income#but my mom didnt plan well enough and here we are#i know i shouldnt be angry but i just feel so angry#i've done what i can do as to NOT stress about money#but she didnt and now it'll spill over me and affect me#im so fucking stressed omg sskkskskskksksks#will we be able to make rent?#it's just so frustrating#for every little thing that happens i realize more and more that for me#family will never be anything other than a burden i dont want or need#if im on my own i take care of my shit and that's that#i wont have three other ppl dragging me down and fucking things up#jesus christ... thanks mom#why didnt she plan better to avoid this? i dont understand ppl#im so meticilous with having plan 1 b c d e etc etc#i know things go bad and i want to be sympathetic with her#but the situation she's put us in.... i cant be anything but angry rn
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everytime i think im done ranting i remember something else LMFAO this one is extra long i hit tag limit god mf damn
#self#for instance.....my mom wants me to cut off everyone who is still tied to the school#and im so mad at myself for feeling a certain type of way when the campus manager called me not too long ago basically to tell me she doesnt#trust the girl who did this shit and she wasnt mad at me but was also mad at me for bringing her to her dads house#for reference we were trying to get a cat from the campus managers dads house LMFAO#and i honestly cannot wait to speak to her again and be like 😔 god dammit you were right like you were every single time#i just dont understand the wiring in her head to think the shit she says and does to people is normal and okay and how she doesnt realize it#is literally a mental health break. when i finally told my mom the first thing she said was shes probably off her medication#which.....probably isnt wrong sadly coming from someone who has borderline and very easily can lose it#but the difference is i dont give in to the urges to try to hurt everyone around me in every way i can#and me and her have said before that we thought she might also have borderline because we were very similar#but god damn does she love proving that if she has it its extremely severe or its something else entirely#on an honest note. shes incredibly narcissistic and i know her mom is part of the reason shes that way bc she was given princess treatment#her entire fucking life and then doesnt understand when other people dont treat her the same way#i hate rambling about this and i hate it that it is bothering me so fucking bad but like ???#if youre going to decide that you can put our past aside period and move on then fucking do that and stop bringing the past up as a way to#hurt me and the people around you???? she acts like shes not done horrible fucking things to people. so sorry i wrote a letter that was very#honest at the time. so sorry that when you found out i apologized for it and said i regret it because 2 weeks after my apology i no longer#regret writing it. if its making school a living hell for you....theres probably a reason for that girlfriend#i am not the person who put that shit in your folder#though i seriously fucking doubt its actually in her folder shes probably assuming it is#and youre the one who made a complete ass of yourself to every educator that ever stepped foot in that building#that has nothing to do with me that you are a literal warning given to every new educator!!!! i havent even been in school there in months#yet IM the problem??? how am i the problem when i graduated in fucking january???? everything since then falls on you#AND YET AGAIN! MIGHT I MENTION! IT IS NOT JUST MY LETTER!!! THERES AT LEAST 2 OTHER ONES!!!!!#BECAUSE IM NOT THE ONLY PERSON SHE DOES THIS SHIT TO!!!!#god sometimes i sit back and realize that theres a reason she regresses as a person and i do not#im not going to sit still anymore and let someone walk all over me and she can thank herself for that#shes who taught me that blocking and running as fast as i can doesnt fix anything#so here we are bitch. youre not blocked and im sure youre sitting at home thinking about how youre right about everything
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Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over
Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰
#its like okay listen i understand the basic math of any persona game they say things and everything they say is actually#very bad when you think about it for more than 3 seconds#like what theyre intending to do with the death of this character is be like oh no your sad friend dies tragically thats so saddddd#but that doesnt mean you cant live a wonderful life full of meaning you cant let grief consume you life is beautiful awagga#and i guess shinji is a specific character whos used cuz i guess its more tragic that he never realized he was worthy of life and shit#and i guess its also like ‘dont be like this guy who let grief consume him and then died you gotta Be Different’#which i dont. love. that last part cuz if you think about shinji and what led him down this road#its like. of course hes depressed! he accidentally killed a woman with a child when he was 16!#he himself is an orphan and he just made some other kid an orphan as well and it happened cuz his persona went out of control#which very much can translate to ‘this must mean im dangerous and can hurt everyone if im not kept under control’#so of course he isolated himself and believed he was evil and became suicidal like who wouldnt feel that way#like am i supposed to be mad he left sees and took drugs cuz uh while i dont think isolation or Evil Drug is good for his mental health#i dont think him continuing to fight in sees is something he can just easily do again given how he killed someone like he shouldnt have to#be a part of this thing anymore like how would he even safely get castor to not do that??? he cant kill more people on accident!#so yeah like using shinji as an example of bad coping mechanisms is already just. a big fucking oof to me like it just feels like the game#is saying he shouldve gotten over it and simply not be suicidal and stayed on the team. idk if thats the intent but uh it wouldnt faze me#cuz persona games are notoriously awful at writing characters who are traumatized and abused#but what makes everything even worse is how the game kinda like. acts like shinjis death is a stepping stone#like we’re supposed to use it as a wake up call and understand the stakes but keep going on anyways#and akihiko and Ken get. ‘great character development’ according to the game telling you they have now developed#but damn all akihiko is is just repressed he cries for 3 seconds and then is like I SHOULD MAN UP and then neglects a depressed child#shinjis dying words are words to live by now even though they piss me the fuck off like girl am i crazy HES FUCKING#HES TELLING ME NOT TO CRY OVER HIM BECAUSE HE SHOULD BE DEAD ACTUALLY AND THIS IS A GOOD THING ACTUALLY#like if the game wants us to still find meaning in life despite losing someone it just really hurts that shinji has to die for that to work#apparently. cuz the character i see myself in is shinji. not some perfect prettyboy who does everything perfectly and has 4 gfs#his death seems like a punishment for bad behavior. the bad behavior being of course depression and drug use. and im simply supposed to be#better than that if i want to live. and we dont get to form a connection with him cuz thats gayyyyy#and his death is like a NOBLE HEROIC SACRIFICE idk its just such bullshit to me i hate it so bad#how is killing a suicidal guy and then treating it as admirable that he said ‘this is how it should be’ supposed to make me feel#makes me feel sick personally and it ruins the entire game’s theme to me because its fucking shallow and the story is bad and im tired
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I'll add that my favorite extension of this trope is when that egg gets smashed wide open by circumstance. When the character (through unicorn-level magic transformation or "it's the only way"-ism) suddenly finds themself in a much more ideal presentation or state of being and is like "But... the rules? I'm breaking them, the rules! But I'm happier!? It's bad to be happy about breaking rules, right? I'm supposed to be bound forever by circumstance, right?????" and the rest of the narrative just going like "gender is made up, let's get you a nice outfit."
I'm gonna be honest I am just enamored with the inherent comedy of being an egg. "Oh boy I sure wish I was a girl. Too bad I'm not! Yeah, I'm definitely a boy, just like I need to tell myself every morning while I stare into the mirror!" <- statement uttered by silly little clowns
Gender is so made up that it is inherently funny to see a dumbass completely fail to play by society's esoteric rulebook through simply not knowing who they are yet. Who would win 2000 years of christianity sanctioned sexism or one forlorn look at a dress in a shop display
#shoutout to that zandra vandra 'catgirl wishes' light novel that follows this trope#it cracked MY egg open because I was already having weird gender feelings#and I realized I was getting MAD at the main character because I would have LOVED to just 'accidentally' end up a catgirl#And that made me realize I was mad at MYSELF for not just... letting myself BE myself.#And it took a catgirl transformation light novel for me to see that#text post#smie speaks#reblog#gender#transgender#egg moment#advice for past me
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Overprotective- Jacaerys Velaryon
A/N: My thoughts lie only on HOTD, and most of those thoughts are on this PRINCE. I hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 3.0k Synopsis: Jace's overprotective nature begins to grate on the reader's nerves as the birth of their first child looms closer.
Legend told that when in the womb, Targaryen babies started out as dragons before transforming into human children. It was nothing more than a silly folktale, your Targaryen family had assured you. But waking up in the dark of night, flinging the covers off of your scorching body, you aren't so sure.
Your nights had been spent like this for nearly two months now. If it wasn't the heat that coated your body, clinging sweat to your brow, it was waking up nearly ever hour to relieve yourself.
The child growing in your stomach was truly a Targaryen - passionate and unyielding.
The first four months of your pregnancy had been wonderful. You had none of the sickness that so many face in the early stages of their maternity. Back then you were often tired, but the child slept whenever you did. And to top it all off, Jace was a perfect husband. He brought you water when you needed it, rubbed your feet when they were aching, and then, you had wanted him constantly, and he had been more than happy to oblige.
But things change quickly during pregnancy, you are coming to understand. Jace wakes up next to you now, sitting up immediately.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing," you say, turning to face him. Your bedroom is dark, but even so, you can see the worry in his eyes. "Just too hot."
"Can I do anything for you? Should I call the Maester?"
"No, I'm fine," you say, straining to get out of bed. He supports your back, giving you the extra push to get up. You hate that he has to do this, that he has to push on your sweat drenched back, in order for you to stand.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"To relieve myself."
"You just got up--"
"I know, Jacaerys," you snap, holding your stomach as you leave the room.
Jace had been wonderful those first few months, when you had been in high spirits. But now, you were in pain constantly, which made you irritable, which made any attempt he made to help you irksome.
When you came back into the room, Jace is still up, his head resting on his pillow. He lifts it a little when you come back in, smiling at you gently. The sheets have been changed - another new routine - but one that doesn't bother you so much. It made a world of difference to lay down in a cool, clean bed after waking in a pool of your own sweat.
"All right?" he asks as you lay down beside him.
"Yes."
"Sure?"
"Yes, why?" you ask, tilting your head up to look at him.
"Because you called me Jacaerys," he says, brushing a stray hair off your brow. "You only do that when you're mad at me." You let out a breath of laughter, but immediately feel like the emotion could change into a sob. Jace must see it, too, because he scoots closer, pulling you into his bare arms.
"Hey," he says, kissing your forehead, "You can call me Jacaerys whenever you like."
"I'm not mad at you," you say, turning into him, so your growing stomach presses into his. "There's just this monster inside of me making me go mad." Jace smiles to himself, nodding his head.
"I know."
"I love you," you say, a hand to his cheek. He leans in to kiss you, his lips cool. When you break apart, you realize the windows are wide open, and while you've been sweating all night, he has to be freezing. You start to say something about it, but he cuts you off.
"I'm fine," he says. "I love you. Please just try to get some sleep."
"Get off me, then," you say, pushing him playfully. He smirks, falling back over to his side, taking your share of the blankets, as well. You lay on your back, and can't help the groan of pain at the pressure the position puts on you. Jace immediately reaches for your hand.
"Jacaerys," you say, squeezing his palm once. He laughs.
"Good night, Y/N."
"Goodnight."
At seven months pregnant, the burning has finally stopped, but you feel weaker still. Every movement puts pain on your back, your shoulders, your feet. You and Jace speak a language that is mostly moans and groans, and not the kind that used to be typical for the two of you.
One morning, when Jace is away at Driftmark, Rhaenyra joins you for breakfast. At the sight of your sovereign, you try to stand, which makes Rhaenyra laugh.
"Don't trouble yourself, Y/N," she says, walking towards you. "I remember when I was your size. Took me all morning just to get out of bed." You give her a tight lipped smile, settling back into the comfy position you had arranged for yourself.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
"How are you feeling?" she asks, pouring herself a cup of tea. She motions to you, but you decline with a shake of your head.
"I'm alright."
"Is she kicking?" she asks, nodding to the hand on your belly.
"Only when I'm trying to sleep," you say with a laugh. "You agree with Jace, then? You think it'll be a girl?"
"The way you're carrying, yes, but one never really can tell. What are you hoping for?" she asks.
"For these next months to pass quickly," you say, straining when a nerve pinches in your side. You adjust your position, and find that Rhaenyra is looking at you with a small, understanding smile. "And of course, for a healthy baby."
"Of course."
"I don't know how you've done this so many times," you say. "Does it get any easier?"
"No," she says simply. You sigh, which makes her smile grow. "How has Jace been?" she asks.
"Very protective," you say, smiling. "Maybe too much so. I feel like if I just breathe wrong he's on alert, worried something has happened." A strange expression passes over Rhaenyra's face - equal parts pride and sorrow.
"I'm afraid Jacaerys has seen more than his fair share of pregnancies gone wrong," she says gently.
"I'm sorry, I know," you say, embarrassment passing through you.
"That's not to say that he isn't overbearing," she adds with a smile. "He's much like his father that way."
"Really?"
"He couldn't always be there," she says, "But when he was, he made up for the time apart with his watch over me." You smile at her as the door opens across the room, and Jace enters.
"You're back early," Rhaenyra says, lifting an eyebrow at him. He smells salty when he leans down to kiss you. He smiles at you, then looks to his mother.
"Thought I might join you for breakfast," he says, sitting next to you. "Besides, I was needed here more than at Driftmark." You exchange a look with Rhaenyra.
"How are you feeling this morning?" he asks you.
"Just fine, Jacaerys," you say, patting his cheek. "You didn't need to cut your visit short."
"Well, there is something I need to do here nonetheless."
"What's that?" you ask.
"It seems Syrax has laid another clutch of eggs. Joff and I are going to retrieve them, and the younger boys are going to help us pick one for the babe," he says, a hand on your stomach. You smile at him, at the gentle caress of his hand. You know he comes from a place of love with his attention.
"Do you want to join us?" he asks.
"I doubt I could make it downstairs, much less down to the Dragonpit."
"We could bring them to you," he says.
"No," you say, "Decide with your brothers. Just pick out a good one." He nods to you, leaning in to kiss your temple.
At the end of breakfast, Jace goes off to the Dragonpit, but only at your insistence. He wanted to walk you back to your chambers, but Rhaenyra assured him she was more than up to the task. Once he was out of sight, she laughed to herself.
"I see what you mean," she says.
Jace returns to your room that night with a shiny, white dragon egg.
Jace's lips are soft on yours. At eight months pregnant, finding moments with him is getting harder every day. He lies next to you, a hand on your stomach, the other cradling the back of your head.
"Y/N," he hums, each word spoken onto your lips, "I want you." You make a sound in your throat, both in agreement and in discomfort. It has been too long since the two of you have been intimate.
"I'm huge," you say.
"You're not and I don't care," he says, his mouth moving across your jaw.
"The last time we did this," you breathe, arching into him when he nips at your earlobe, "We had to stop because you worried you'd hurt the baby."
"I promise I'll relax this time," he says.
"How could you even get to me?" you ask with a laugh. Jace smiles at you as his hand moves from your stomach to your hip, turning you onto your side easily. He presses up behind you, kissing along your neck.
You sigh, relaxing into him. His hand pulls up the skirt of your nightgown, exposing your legs to the cool night air. It has been so long that you know you're ready for him immediately.
"Just tell me if I'm hurting you," he says. You groan, putting a hand to his face to stop him from kissing you more. "Y/N."
"Jace." You scoot away from him, turning slowly to face him.
"I didn't mean anything by it," he says with a sigh.
"How many times have you fucked me in that same position?" you ask. Jace frowns, frustration evident on his face. "Have you ever hurt me?"
"No, but things are different," he says. "What's the harm in asking if you feel okay?"
"It doesn't make me feel desirable," you say, looking up at the ceiling, stupid, frustrating tears forming in your eyes again. Jace sighs and moves to your side, propping himself up on an elbow so you have to look at him.
"Y/N," he says gently. "Of course you are desirable. You are still the most beautiful, incredible woman I know. And it's because you are so incredible that I want to make sure that I don't do anything that puts you in more pain than I know you are already in."
"I promise I will tell you if I am hurting, okay? You don't have to coddle me."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," you say, hand on his cheek to bring his lips to yours. "I'm the bitch for complaining about her kind husband." He laughs and kisses your palm.
"You're not a bitch," he says. You kiss him again. "Now please roll onto your side and let me fuck you." You laugh, doing as he says.
"Of course, My Prince."
Jace is at Dragonstone Castle when you go into labor. He has been anxious for the last month, knowing that any day the baby could arrive. He intended to postpone this meeting with the great houses, but you assured him that the babe would not come today. The only thing that kept him to his promise was the fact that Vermax could bring him back to the Red Keep quickly.
When Joffrey bursts into the room, Jace is immediately on his feet, already fearing the worst.
"What is it?" he asks.
"Y/N has gone into labor."
Jace barely spares a glance at the lords around the table. He urges Joffrey along. His brother had the foresight to request that Vermax be readied for when they arrived upon the shore.
The ride is quick, as he knew it would be, but he still urges Vermax along, wanting and needing to be close to you as soon as he can.
When he gets to the Red Keep, he runs up to your chambers, intending to throw them open and run to your side. Instead, he finds that they are locked. He can hear soft discussion, encouragements, but the loudest sound coming through the door is your screaming.
Joffrey followed him to the door and carefully peels him away. "She's alright," he insists. Jace won't be able to agree until he can see you himself.
Together, they sit outside your door for the next three hours. Joffrey doesn't say much, but when your screaming gets louder, or there seems to be a rise in urgency to the voices inside, he puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.
It seems like ages have passed when the doors finally open.
He doesn't wait to hear what the Maester has to say. He rushes into the room, his eyes going immediately to your bed. Midwives quickly take away bloodied sheets, and when they clear, he sees you. You are drenched in sweat, your hair matted all around you, and he's not sure he's ever seen you look more beautiful.
"Y/N," he says, as if he's looking upon the gods themselves. You look up at him, your face breaking into a smile. He rushes to your side.
"Are you okay?" he asks, taking your face in his hands.
"I'm okay," you say, laying a hand over his. He laughs. It's a result of the built up tension from the hallway, and he can't stop himself. He laughs as he kisses you, over and over. You laugh, too, and he tastes the salt of your tears on your lips.
"What is it?" he asks, quickly studying your face.
"Don't you want to meet him?" you ask.
"Him?" Jace's face falls in awe.
"Him," you say. You look towards one of the midwives and they bring over the smallest bundle Jace has ever seen. He sinks onto the bed beside you as the babe is placed in his arms.
"Hello," he says quietly. You lean onto his shoulder, looking down at your son with a smile on your face.
"Isn't he beautiful?" you ask, your voice a whisper.
"Yes," he says, his heart still thundering from the surprise. "What have you called him?" he asks.
"I assumed we'd discuss that together," you say, "But I was thinking Lucerys, if that'd be alright." Jace has tears of his own in his eyes. He bites back his smile, unable to put into words what the name means to him, what you mean to him. He nods his head.
"Does that sound good to you, Lucerys?" you ask, your finger touching the blanket over the baby's stomach. He starts to move around, crying out just a little. Like you've done it a million times before, you take Lucerys into your arms and shush him gently.
Jace kisses your temple repeatedly, until you laugh. You turn towards him and kiss him fully, passionately.
"I love you so much," he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"I love you, too."
You stay in that position for an hour or so, Jace holding you, and you holding Lucerys. Joffrey is the first to meet the future heir to the throne, and he kisses you on the cheek when he learns his nephew's name.
When his mother enters the room, Jace doesn't stand, wanting to keep you in his arms forever. She is all smiles as she leans over your opposite shoulder. You sit up slowly, and Jace's arm around you helps guide you upright.
"Hello, little one," Rhaenyra says, taking the child into her arms. You sigh happily, watching her interact with him. Jace can't keep from kissing your face a few more times. He doesn't think he has ever been this in love with you.
"And what is the name of our little prince?" Rhaenyra asks, looking between the two of you. Jace looks down at you, but you nod your head to him.
"We've decided to name him Lucerys," he says simply. Rhaenyra's expression changes immediately, her eyes welling up with tears of her own. Holding Lucerys in one arm, she leans down to kiss you both.
"A fine name," she says through tears. "You did well," she says, looking at you. You smile back, tears forming again in your own.
After a few moments in her arms, she hands your son back to you, and departs, letting the two of you get acquainted to your new family. Neither of you say much. You just watch Lucerys with rapt attention, counting his fingers, and touching his soft patch of hair.
"He's so beautiful," you say quietly.
"He is."
"I don't think I'm ever going to let him out of my sight," you say, looking up at Jace with a smile. He smiles back, but notices the exhaustion on your face.
"Maybe you can for a little while," he says, "Just to get some rest."
"Still so overprotective," you say with a smirk.
"I've got two to protect now," he says, "So if you could just once let me take care of you without arguing--" You cut him off with a kiss.
"I'll try," you say. "But don't either of you leave this room."
"I don't think you could kick us out if you wanted to."
Jace stands with his son in his arms, watching as you lay down. The midwives come back in to check on you and Lucerys, before leaving the three of you alone for the time.
"It's okay, Y/N," he says lowly, when you still haven't shut your eyes, your gaze locked on the two of them. "We'll be here."
"Promise?"
"I swear it," he says, giving you an easy smile. He watches you close your eyes, and in a few moments, your breath falls into an easy rhythm, just like Lucerys's.
Jace looks down at his son. He doesn't want to disturb his sleep, but he wants to tell him, here and now, that he'll always be overprotective. So he makes the vow to himself, just like the one he made when he married you. He is always going to protect the people he loves, even if it sometimes drives them mad.
#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon x you#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys velaryon#hotd#hotd imagine#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction#jacaerys velaryon imagine#jacaerys velaryon fanfic#jacaerys velaryon fanfiction
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Ok nobody extrapolate anything about me from this...
The first time you cry in front of the 141:
The first time you cry in front of Ghost it's because you can't fucking take it anymore. All the little things, all the comments you know he didn't mean to hurt, all the conversations you ignored because you didn't want to make him feel like the bad guy, it all comes to a head. You don't even mean it to happen, and you feel like shooting yourself on the spot as soon as the tears start flowing. It feels manipulative. It feels disingenuous. You feel like a piece of shit having him awkwardly bundle you in his arms as you break down sobbing over a topic that normally would mean nothing to you. And it all comes out. All the worries and slights you ignored, all the fears and doubts, all the things that made you question if you could ever even start to bring up with him. Like throwing up, once it starts you can't stop it.
He looks like you've hit him when you finally escape his bear hug. You barely get the chance to take it in before you're thrust back into sobbing hysterics, blubbering out apologies, how you feel like you're manipulating him, how you're a bad partner, how you're sure he's going to realize he doesn't want you and leave. You barely hear the rough "Jesus Christ" over your own hiccuping.
Ghost shuffles the two of you over to grab you a t-shirt to blow your nose in while you're sniffling and wiping at your eyes. You feel pathetic having him hold the fabric to your face and telling you to blow.
"Didn't know ya made this much snot love," he jokes.
"You're dot funny," you whine, nose still clogged with wattery mucus as your tears finally start calming down.
"I know," he grumps.
"You're mad at me," you sniffle.
"I'm not," he sounds mad, "mad at myself. Shoulda seen ya keepin' things to yourself, I'm glad ya finally told me." His scarred mouth screws to one side. "Just gotta work on makin' sure we don't get to this point again."
-
The first time you cry in front of Soap it's because you're so fucking mad at him. He's arguing with you over nothing, the same way he always does when he's in a bad mood. Finding little things that dig at you and twisting just enough to make it not his fault when you snap. Back and forth with your barbs until you got to bed angry.
You can feel the tears burning at your waterline before they spill and you know your hot cheeks don't bode any better. You're not yelling but you almost wish you were, at least of you were yelling at each other it might make you feel better about the sudden waterworks. You hate when this happens. Too big an emotion in the body, it has to come out somewhere, you suppose this is just the quickest avenue. The way Soap's face drops from anger to concern pisses you off though.
"Hen, are ya-"
"I'm so fucking mad right now," you assure him, "don't look at me, don't even acknowledge them."
"Ah dinnae ken," His voice is getting softer, it only makes you more upset, "Oh my bonnie, ahm sorry ah didnae think this would hurt ya so bad."
"Fuck off," you try to push past him to lock yourself in the bathroom and he catches your arm to pull you against him. "Fuck off!" You shriek, pushing at him.
"No," he holds you a little tighter, "my mam would 'ave my heid hearin' ah let ya walk away from me like this, yer stayin' 'ere."
"I will fucking skin you Mactavish," you struggle harder.
"Aye anno, now shut up an' quit yer kickin'."
You do neither of those things.
-
The first time Gaz sees you cry it's because no one's ever seen you before. Even in your best relationships, your closest friendships, no one sees you like Gaz. No one picks you up from work with flowers and takes you by your favorite bakery just so you can have a slice of cake when you watch your comfort show. You're not even through the title music, Gaz sorting through your takeout options after he'd gotten you a "fancy plate" and a small fork to eat with, when you break down in sobs. He's on you immediately, hushing you as he gathers you into his arms. He's so attentive it hurts.
"It's OK baby," he hums, "don't have to talk about it, you just let it out."
God even that gets you crying. You don't have to get your words right or find a way to explain what you're feeling, you can just feel it. You try to think of a way to put it into words but it all lines up wrong, sounds too juvenile, doesn't make any sense even to you. There's no need to say anything though, Gaz just sits there with you, holds you through it as you wet his shoulder with your tears.
You don't even know why you're crying by the end of it, you just kept coming up with other reasons to cry. Jesus you don't think you ever got over your last grandparent dying, or losing that one friend, that's something to unpack later. You feel drained. Literally dehydrated drained. Gaz's shirt is soaked, but he doesn't day anything when you pull back.
He cups your cheek at wipes at the wet stains on your cheek with his thumb, eyes searching yours before he gives you a tight smile.
"Why don't you go take a hot shower, yeah?" He offers, you give him a watery nod, he smiles and pats your knee. "Alright, off you go. I'll be in, in a second."
The second time you cry in front of Gaz it's before he's got you pinned to the shower wall.
-
The first time Price sees you cry it's because you're tired. You're tired of giving everything to this relationship and seeing him leave right when things seem to be falling into place. His phone buzzes in the middle of the night and you don't stop the downpour when he grumbles out a swear and turns on the light. You glare at the ceiling and let the tears flow. It hurts. Tight in your chest. This feeling like you'll never be enough, like he'll always have something more important than you, it kills you. So why can't you leave him?
Are the good times really good enough to make up for the bad?
It makes him stop what he was doing when he sees the resolute grimace and the flow of tears over your cheeks. You shudder in a breath when he sits on the side of the bed. You refuse to look at him.
How could he do this to you?
"Sweetheart," he starts, his voice low, gentling, "I'm sorry."
"You're not." You correct him, "Otherwise you wouldn't keep doing it."
"You want me to choose between you and the world, you know what I'll say." He always sounds so sharp, ready to guilt you into giving up what he wants.
"I'm asking you to choose between me and paperwork," you bite back.
"You don't know-"
"You get phone calls when you're being deployed." You remind him, "You get reminders when papers are due." You turn to glare at him. The look on his face twists like a knife in your chest. You're dead on the money, and it's killing him. "So can this really not wait until the morning, are you really that eager to be rid of me?"
"I'm sorry," he tries again, toeing off his shoes, "you're right, I hadn't noticed." You turn over as he climbs under the duvet again. You fold your legs up as his arm drapes over you hip and he curls around you. His lips touch your shoulder, a silent plea for forgiveness. "Let me make it up to you, no more running into red tape I promise."
You don't bother agreeing to empty promises, but the next day he's had the paperwork sent from the base. The same the next day. Price always told you working from home didn't suit him. Waking you up with a cuppa on the other hand and walking you to the station does though.
He makes good on his promise, he doesn't run off until the next call comes in.
#cod x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mactavish#ghost x reader#soap mw2#john mactavish x reader#soap x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz mw2#kyle garrick x reader#gaz x reader#captain john price#price mw2#captain price x reader#price x reader#cod headcanons#gn!reader
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#so I guess you just weren’t going to talk to me yesterday#I don’t know if it’s because you’re still mad at me or because you just ‘didn’t have time’ to send any more messages#but in any case I spent my whole day basically just sitting here refreshing my messages waiting for you like I always do just to get nothing#this is why I tried to bring up to you that our lack of contact lately was bothering me and making me feel like I did something wrong#this is why I tried to propose a solution of agreeing not to talk every single day to make things easier on both of us#a solution which you completely ignored and refused to acknowledge when you snapped at me#you say you hate having to justify yourself and don’t even realize that I was never asking you to do so#but having to beg you for time and being made to feel like I’m having to chase you down in this friendship isn’t exactly fun or healthy#I’ve let you dictate pretty much every facet of our relationship and conceded so much because I can’t bear to lose you#I can’t even defend myself properly because the second you snap at me and show me you’re upset I just crumble and do whatever you want#I’m constantly apologizing for everything I say and do#and I’m made to feel like I’m being selfish and manipulative just because I want to be able to talk to my friend a little more often#you wondered why I felt used and like I was just trash to you? well this is part of the reason why honey#you treat me like I’m disposable and like my worries and feelings don’t matter#but anyway it just hurts to realize that for whatever reason you never planned on talking to me again yesterday#personal
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it was always you (from the vault)
originally titled: take my breath away.
a.k.a. the original draft for my “it was always you” fic wherein naval aviator!jungkook is your cocky soon-to-be-ex-husband who won’t sign your divorce papers because he’s still in love with you lol.
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 4.5k
content: fluff, semi-angst, exes to ??? | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + husband!jungkook
warning: what you’re about to read (if you do choose to read this) is an unfinished work which perhaps will forever be unfinished.
the only reason i’m posting it because i feel like it’d be a waste to let it rot in my drafts considering that i really liked how it went until the moment i stopped writing hehehehe. i’ve also thought about continuing this story but since i already have an existing naval aviator!jungkook in my masterlist, i felt like it’d be redundant to post this!
anyhow, since a lot of you showed so much love to “it was always you”, i thought it’d be nice to share this 🥹
You really hoped that flying for almost three hours and experiencing horrid turbulence during half of the trip was going to be worth it. But again, that was only the first part of the whole charade; the real challenge would begin perhaps much later, when you finally come face to face with the person that you were scheduled to meet.
As you walked inside the bar, the nerves that previously weren’t there started to crawl from your chest to your legs, making it harder to reach the counter where a vacant bar stool stood. You didn’t even know why you were suddenly nervous—although you could only guess that the sudden burst of anxiety was rooted from talking again to the most stubborn man ever to walk on earth—and you were already preparing yourself for the long conversation you were going to have with him and possibly the extended leave you’ll have to inform your boss for this trip because of his infamous stubbornness.
“____?” a familiar voice abruptly called out for you after you finished ordering a mug of beer from the barmaid, “no fucking way. It can’t be.”
You turned to your left and saw Jung Hoseok.
Spoiler: he wasn’t the person you were going to meet today, which made seeing him such a delight. You grinned immediately upon making eye contact, hopping out of your chair and exclaiming his name with the same enthusiasm he let out when he did realize it was you who he was looking at.
“Holy shit. What are you doing here?” He automatically engulfed you in a tight embrace when you initiated. You noticed that he was wearing an off duty attire, a plain black polo shirt and blue jeans, his hair kept neat and short. “Actually, scratch that—there’s only one person you should be here for.”
You bothered to smile. “Yeah. I’m guessing he didn’t tell anyone I’m visiting, huh?”
“Nope. He 100% kept it a secret because he knows that we’re going to steal you away if he spills.”
“We?” you mused. You didn’t even know that he was training with Hoseok, and now you’re discovering that Hoseok’s apparently not the only friend he has here. “How many of you that I know are training with him?”
Hoseok takes a short pause to think about it. “Hm… well, there’s me, then Yoongi and… Namjoon. That’s just about it.”
“Wow. It’s essentially the whole group again, huh?”
“Yup. I mean, we are the best of the best.” He smirked.
You playfully rolled your eyes.
“And we’ve missed you,” he added swiftly. “I’m a bit mad that your husband didn’t inform us that you’d be here—but again, I’m not surprised.”
“Sorry. I think I have myself to blame for that. I did tell him that I don’t intend to stay here for too long.”
“Why not?”
“I’m just here to make sure he signs the divorce papers.”
Hoseok nodded, thoughtful and a bit disappointed. “Is he giving you a hard time with them?”
“You can say that.” A dramatic sigh escaped you. “He insisted that if I really wanted to get his signature, I should just go here where he’s training.”
“Classic Jungkook.” He laughed, and you agreed with a snort.
He was right, this was all a Classic Jungkook move.
Sometimes, you didn’t understand why you agreed to marry Jungkook so urgently when he asked for your hand, even after knowing that he did everything he could to ensure that he got what he wanted in the end.
Though that was just that thing, wasn’t it? He knew exactly what to do in order to get what he wanted—and at that time of his proposal, you knew it was you that he sought for.
Despite the fact that Jungkook had only been seeing you for less than a year, he was convinced that you were the love of his life. It was the reason why when he needed to be deployed for a mission, it seemed proposing was the most natural thing to do, going on about how he wanted to be reassured that when he came back for you, you were going to be there waiting for him, not only as a girlfriend, but as his wife.
And you said yes, without missing a beat, because you genuinely loved Jungkook and for you, the both of you were a match made in heaven.
By the two year mark of being a wedded couple though, just being in love with each other wasn’t enough. There were a lot of arguments, irreconcilable differences, a lot of moments wherein you wanted to abandon everything and just disappear—until you finally declared that enough was enough and you were going to file for divorce.
Of course, Jungkook didn’t want to sign them, but he did grant you a little bit of your freedom back. He did so by leaving your shared apartment on a random Thursday, only sending a text that said he was being called by the Navy for a mission he couldn’t disclose per usual, and that if you really wanted to divorce him, you’d just have to wait for him to go back.
He never returned though. Because after that mission, came a next one, and another one, until you heard that he was invited to a naval fighter weapons school in the northern part of the country, close to the seas and where he’ll be training for a few weeks among the best naval aviators in the nation.
That’s when he decided to invite you over and say that if you wanted his signature, you’d have to be the one who’ll go to him. You initially contemplated for a long time before just going forth with his ridiculous demand. Nonetheless, you figured you were once again left with no choice because here you were now, doing exactly what he wanted to get what you exactly wanted as well.
God, who knew that contrary to how easy it was to enter this marriage, it was an absolute pain to get out of it?
“Do you know where he might be?” you asked Hoseok while taking a sip of your beer. “Or if he’s going here at least?”
“I have no clue,” Hoseok said. “Though I do know that he should have free time. We don’t have training for the rest of the day.”
“I’ll be seriously pissed if he stands me up.”
“He won’t.”
“It’s Jungkook.”
“Yeah, but you’re ____,” he said it like it was reason enough, “and Jungkook can’t resist seeing you. Especially if it’s been what? How many months have passed since you two saw each other?”
You held up six fingers, continuing to gulp down your drink in frustration. “Still, he loves to annoy the shit out of me.”
“It’s his love language.”
“Oh, I’ve been made very aware.”
Hoseok barked out a laugh. He was a huge fan of your dynamic with Jungkook; he was practically there throughout the whole journey of your relationship. As Jungkook’s weapon systems officer, the both of them were thick as thieves, which also made him the best man of the wedding—so deep inside, he wanted to believe that whatever it was that you and Jungkook were dealing with, it would be resolved soon enough.
“Well, it looks like you don’t have to wait for too long.” Hoseok toasted his glass to the direction of the entrance where the Jeon Jungkook entered, removing his aviator sunglasses and hooking it on the collar of his white shirt, worn inside a dark blue long-sleeved polo he was sporting as well.
You followed his line of vision and scowled at the sight of Jungkook. Not because you hated your husband, but because even when in the middle of finalizing a divorce, you couldn’t deny that he was too handsome for his own good.
“I think this is my cue to leave,” Hoseok added, getting off his seat. “It was nice seeing you again, ___. Let’s catch up later, yeah? I’ll conspire with Joon and Yoongi to steal you away.” He smiled mischievously and gave you a sweet chaste kiss on the cheek before walking over to Jungkook, greeting him, pointing to where you were, and then walking to another table where you guessed a bunch of other naval aviators were hanging out.
A sigh escaped you, just in time when Jungkook met your gaze.
He grinned—actually grinned—and you had to prevent your eyes from twitching to not look like some crazy person who didn’t have any self-control. So, instead of plastering the same scowl a few seconds ago for him to see, you flashed a sarcastic smile, waving your hand.
“There’s my beautiful wife,” Jungkook claimed when he was close enough, marching towards you, appearing like he was going to go for a kiss but before he could, you outstretched an arm and stopped him by literally wrapping your fingers around his neck as if you were planning to choke him to death with the gesture (which you were tempted to do).
He rolled his eyes, holding your wrist and bringing it down.
“Can’t I give you a kiss?” he retorted.
“No.”
“And Hoseok can?”
“Hoseok’s my friend.”
“I’m your husband.”
“Ex-husband.”
“Wrong. I haven’t signed any divorce papers, honey, so in the eyes of the law, I’m still very much your husband.” He quickly stole a kiss on the corner of your mouth and you allowed yourself to grimace in annoyance, glaring at him as he took Hoseok’s previous seat.
You watched him order a drink for himself and nachos for sharing. You didn’t say anything while he did all that; you just stared at him, analyzing him, trying to decipher what was going on in that head of his. You honestly had no clue what his thought process was in depriving you of the signature you wanted and then randomly agreeing to meet you again, accompanied with the condition that you’re the one who has to go to him and not the other way around.
As he reasoned, he was still in the middle of training, and he couldn’t just leave even if he wanted to and that’s why you had to make the effort to make this work (he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the effort anyway if it meant it could lead to his and yours divorce).
“How are you?” he asked once he was done ordering and you scoffed.
“Let’s not do that, Jungkook.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to know how you’re doing too.”
“I meant the small talk. Let’s just cut to the chase.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Jungkook.”
“Alright.” He placed an arm against the counter, spinning his stool to face you. “You already know where I stand, though. I still haven’t changed my mind in wanting to work it out first.”
“What? But you told me that if I went here—”
“I would talk to you, not sign the papers,” he finished. “You didn’t really think I’d sign them just like that, right?”
Your stomach dropped.
There goes assuming that the three-hour flight to go here would be worth it.
“I did, actually.” You grumbled. “When are you giving this a rest?”
He seemed annoyed by the rhetoric question. “When are you going to stop thinking that divorce is the answer to our problem?”
“We already did couple’s therapy and that proved to be a waste of time.”
“That’s because you were stubborn and wouldn’t cooperate.”
“Oh, I’m the one who’s stubborn between the both of us? I’m the one who wouldn’t cooperate?”
“Yes.”
“No, I’m not!” You raised your hands up. “You were the one who always said some lame excuse to not attend it with me.”
“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you, my schedule isn’t—”
“Yeah, whatever.” You didn’t let him finish, knowing that he was going to say something about how being in the Navy didn’t grant him the free time you were expecting him to have.
“I’m just saying… you can’t keep on doing this, you know?” you said.
“Can’t keep doing what?”
“Prolonging this. We already broke up, Jungkook. There’s not point in staying married.”
“That’s the thing, though.” He smirked. “I can keep prolonging it.”
Your nostrils flared. “Why?”
“Because I can.”
You think flashes of red were beginning to blur your vision.
Jungkook noticed the rage building up, yet he didn’t back down. “Why are you even so eager to legally separate? Do you plan on getting married again soon?” he asked.
It was supposed to be a joke, because Jungkook didn’t actually think you were seeing anyone at the moment—but at the mention of it, he saw the manner in which your expression slightly shifted, and he narrowed his eyes at you, understanding. “Don’t bullshit me. You aren’t seeing anyone, right?”
You blinked, acting all innocent. “It’s none of your business.”
“It is. You’re still married to me.”
“We’ve broken up for almost a year now, Jungkook.” You groaned, remaining him once again. “If you just signed the goddamn papers, all of this would be out of your hands.”
He scoffed. “You are seeing someone?”
“That is not the point of our conversation.”
“Well, it’s a significant aspect of it.”
“Fine.” You huffed. “I am seeing someone. Happy?”
Jungkook was in fact not happy. He was angry, but then he thought of how he shouldn’t be, because you and him have broken up for almost a year now like you said. Even though he wasn’t in support of that notion, he remembered at least granting you enough freedom to feel like you could date around without thinking about how you were technically cheating on him if ever you did.
However, he didn’t really think you would find someone. Sure, you were beautiful, you had an amazing personality, there was no question when it came to you attracting men, yet you could be picky most of the time. It was even a miracle how he managed to bag you; though he guessed that he didn’t really have to try that hard in the first place before because the two of you just had so much in common for you to ignore.
“What’s his name?” he asked after a long silence.
You crossed your arms. “Do you have to know?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” You adjusted yourself in your seat. “It’s Ben.”
Jungkook thought the name sounded stupid. “How long have you been dating him?”
You hesitated, already predicting how he was going to react that you almost exaggerated the answer, but decided against it last minute. “Five weeks.”
He suddenly burst out laughing, the sound echoing inside the bar; it was the exact type of response you were positive he was going to do, proof that you knew him too well and that you shouldn’t have changed your pretense in the first place.
“It’s not funny,” you hissed, noticing that a lot of people were glancing at where you were both situated. “What the hell is funny about what I said?”
“You want to divorce me for a guy you’ve been dating for five weeks?” He carried on snickering; he barely got the whole sentence out because he was too busy catching his breath.
“Of course not! I would just prefer it if I don’t have any baggage left before attempting to commit to another relationship.”
The barmaid came back with Jungkook’s beer and nachos. He thanked her and slid the basket of cheesy nachos to your direction, an offer that you could get a piece if you wanted. However you were neither hungry nor interested in getting anything from him that would elicit a thank you from you, too prideful at this point due to how annoying he was being.
“What does he do for a living?” he asked next.
“I’m not telling you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to make fun of it.”
“Is it worth making fun of?”
“No.”
“Then just tell me.” He threw a chip inside his mouth.
You pressed your lips together. “He’s a bank clerk.”
Jungkook didn’t laugh this time, but the corners of his mouth were twitching as he grinned, and you found yourself refraining from wanting to strangle him again, questioning why you thought it was a good idea to come here since it was obvious that talking to him properly was an impossible task.
“You’re dating a bank clerk?” he posed the question like it was the most preposterous thing he had heard from you today. “What the hell do the both of you have in common?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll have you know that Ben is a very nice guy.”
“That’s what ladies say when a man is horrible in bed.”
“That’s not true.”
“Is he good then?”
“That’s none of your business, Jungkook,” you uttered once more, teeth gritting. “Besides, it’s only been five weeks.”
He smirked. “That’s a no then. It seems that you haven’t slept with him,” he said. “Makes sense. I mean, if you have already slept with another guy, you might be already begging me to get back together. Given that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had.”
You stared at him in disbelief. “How the fuck are you always so arrogant?”
“It comes with the praise I usually get during my escapades, babe.” Jungkook winked at you, hand reaching out for another nacho.
“Oh, so I’m assuming you do have sex with other people now. You know, if you’ve just divorced me, you can go live your happy single life again to go to that without any worries.”
“I don’t sleep with other people—”
“But you just said—”
“I meant before I met you.” He pointed out, giving you a look. “Why are you even thinking about that? Are you jealous?”
“God, you’re fucking impossible.” You practically growled.
He flashed you another smirk, amused.
“Anyhow,” you began, bringing out the divorce papers from your bag that you should have given him the second you saw him, but as what you think was part of his plan, he did manage to stall you in doing so, “here’s the papers.” You shoved it to his chest, rendering Jungkook no choice but to grab it.
He glanced down at them. “You’re never going to stop until I sign these, huh?”
You nodded. “Never.”
“Fine.” Jungkook flickered his gaze on you. “I’ll sign them.”
You glared at him. “Be serious.”
“I am serious.”
“Are you?”
You were still suspicious, but at the same time, you had high hopes.
“Yes. But I need to meet Ben the bank clerk first.”
Your spirits dropped. “Oh, no, no, no,” you made a huge cross sign with your arms, “you are not giving me another condition just to go against your word in the end.”
“I won’t this time.”
“Yeah, right.” You scoffed loudly.
It was his turn to narrow his eyes at you. “I’m serious. You want my signature or not?”
You bit the insides of your cheeks, gazing at him.
You were no fool, you knew why he wanted to meet him; you knew that it was because he wanted to see it for himself if the guy you replaced him for was actually more good looking than him or at least appeared as if he could survive a fistfight if Jungkook prompted to start one. It was all testosterone and ego, and you contemplated cutting his balls just to get this over with once and for all.
Surely, by then, he would be more agreeable.
“Fine,” you told him. “If you meet him, you’ll sign the papers? Promise?”
He took a sip of his beer, shrugging. “Sure.”
***
Jungkook watched the scene unfold in front of him with an amused expression.
Although he did admit it once that he did get a bit jealous whenever you gave the other guys more attention than him, he loved his best pals too much to care.
It was why he allowed instances like this to happen wherein you made it apparent that you valued their company much more than you did Jungkook. It was evident in the manner in which you laughed loudly as Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon hugged you, each one of them taking turns in lifting your body off the ground a few seconds in glee.
You were seen as a beloved sister to them as they saw Jungkook as a cherished brother in the Navy.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Jungkook reckoned after five seconds.
Namjoon glanced at him, the last one to embrace you. “Jealous?” he teased, reading his mind.
“I am, actually.” Jungkook affirmed. “You three got a better greeting than I did.”
You rolled your eyes at the pettiness of his comment. “That’s because there’s nothing good about seeing you again, Jungkook.”
Jungkook glanced at you. “You wound me, babe.” He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “Truly, you do.”
The guys stifled a laugh.
Today’s agenda was supposed to be a catch up session with the three guys. News spread quickly yesterday that you were in town thanks to Hoseok, and given that the three of them were good friends of yours, you didn’t decline the offer when Jungkook informed you that they wanted to meet you while you were here.
So, as the next day came in and the evening rolled, they met up with you at the same resto-bar Hoseok found you in. It did seem like the only venue that was both near enough from the academy and the hotel you were staying at that offered adequate food. You observed that the occupants of the place were composed primarily of people wearing naval aviator uniforms or motorcyclists stopping by before going forth with their ride.
“So,” Yoongi began just as Jungkook headed to the counter, volunteering to relay all of your orders to the barmaid, “we heard from a little birdie that you’re seeing someone else.”
You gave him a look. “Still a big gossip, I see.”
“Oh, it’s not counted as gossip if it’s what Jungkook’s been complaining about the whole time at the showers,” Namjoon humored.
Hoseok agreed with a nod. “It’s what he’s been nonstop yapping about earlier when we were flying,” he said. “Seriously, ____. Release the boy from misery and just get back together.”
They watched you grimace. “You all know my relationship with Jungkook has been long complicated for it to be as easy as that.”
“Did he cheat on you?” Namjoon asked.
“No, of course not.” You scoffed. “He’s an annoying shit for the most part but he’s not a cheater.”
He physically relaxed at the confirmation. “Good, because I don’t think I can beat him in a fistfight.”
Yoongi chuckled. “What’s the matter then? You still haven’t spared us any details on why you’re so keen to divorce him.”
“There’s no particular reason,” you sighed with a throw of your hand. “It’s just a compilation of the small things. He’s away most of the time, I’m away most of the time when he’s available—we fight a lot, argue a lot, it just doesn’t seem to be worth fighting for anymore.”
“So, you don’t love him anymore?”
“I…” you trailed, abruptly feeling like you were being interrogated, “I mean, love doesn’t go away easily. And it hasn’t been that long since we called it quits.”
The three men shared a look among themselves.
You straighten your posture. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What does?” Hoseok queried.
“That look you guys just gave each other. I don’t like it.”
“That’s just their faces, babe,” Jungkook reappeared, taking the liberty to take the seat on your right. “What are you fellas talking about?” he asked his buddies.
They didn’t dare utter a word. You were under the impression that they had an understanding between them that talking about your relationship right in Jungkook’s face was something one should not ought to do.
You, on the other hand, took it as your cue to speak, starting another topic to hopefully erase the previous one. “Ben said he can come. He’s boarding tonight,” you told Jungkook as he’s sipping from his glass of service water.
“That’s good.” He didn’t look as interested as he was yesterday.
“Who’s Ben?” It was Hoseok again.
“The bank clerk,” Jungkook answered.
“The new guy you’re seeing?” Yoongi asked you.
“Yep,” you said before turning to Jungkook. “And can you please refer to him by his name? He’s not just a bank clerk.”
“Is he a boring bank clerk?” Jungkook asked, that teasing smirk flashing on his mouth.
“Will he be here tomorrow?” Namjoon chimed in.
You nodded. “Hopefully.”
“Great,” Jungkook placed his glass down on the table. “It’ll be enough time to get to know him.”
He said ‘enough time’ like his time was limited because it really was. He informed you before you parted ways yesterday that he was graduating from the academy this Friday, and that after that, he was almost 100% sure he was going to be deployed again with some of his classmates for a mission that you wouldn’t be allowed to know the details of.
Your stomach somersaulted when he told you that.
Somehow, despite convincing yourself that you no longer cared for Jungkook, the thought of his life being put at risk again once he was back on the field made you want to vomit in anxiety. It reminded you that his very dangerous occupation was one of the root causes of your separation, for there were months wherein you couldn’t take the fear of waiting in uncertainty on whether he was going to come home to you or not, regardless of how he promised he would every single time.
It was funny, you thought. One of your similarities with your husband was that the both of you were adrenaline junkies. You and him bonded over extreme rides in amusement parks, activities that got your heart pumping and gave you the sensation of being on top of the world—and yet it was the reason why you didn’t want to be with him anymore as well, too scared to continue loving him if he always sought for adventure and danger through being a naval aviator.
“You knew what you were signing up for, ____,” he told you during one of your many arguments. “You entered this relationship knowing the nature of my job. You can’t expect to adjust for you when it comes to—”
“I’m not expecting you to adjust for me, Kook,” you replied in exasperation, practically begging him to listen to you with an open mind at that point. “God, I just want you to consider me. I just want to feel that for once, you actually remember that someone’s always waiting for you to come home.”
Whenever conversations like that popped back inside your memory, you forced yourself to push it away. It wasn’t an experience you wanted to relive. You’ve spent far too many nights just crying because of how it felt like to be in a constant state of worry for the person you found yourself loving the most.
“We can all meet him, right?” asked Hoseok, looking at the other guys for back up.
You surveyed them, raising your eyebrows before saying your answer.
“Like the hell you would.”
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Oh my good oh my GOD kinda modern au,. Slythern truth or dare happenings- the dare mattheo is to look through readers camera roll and showcase the most embarrassing photo. Reader thinks nothing of it and forgets about the set of nudes taken that got sent to no one. But then you see his face redden and jaw clench and then it just continues but he confronts her after
Yes! I gotchu!
Truth or Dare
Mattheo Riddle x F!reader
Warnings: Oral(Female receiving), fingering, cussing, unprotected sex
18+ Minors DNI!
You were sitting with your friends, Pansy, Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo, Draco and Blaise after one of their parties ended, all of you still pretty drunk, but slowly sobering up. You guys were playing truth or dare and it was Theodore’s turn.
“(Y/N), truth or dare?” He asked from his spot as he laid on the couch.
“Dare.” You smiled, kneeling in front of the table on the floor.
“I dare you to let Mattheo go through your phone to show us your most embarrassing photo.” Theo smiled back.
You handed your phone to Mattheo, who was sitting on the couch that you were in front of. You didn’t know Mattheo had a crush on you. But Theo did. And he saw this as a chance to let Mattheo go through your phone without you caring since you were drunk.
Mattheo looked through your phone, smiling as well. He stops scrolling, smile fading slightly as his face reddens. He stares for a few seconds more before scrolling again. You almost missed the way his jaw clenched. After a few moments, he found a picture and showed everyone, making them all laugh, but he stared at you. His eyes roaming over you in an almost possessive way. He gave you your phone back and leaned back on the couch, keeping a fake smile.
People slowly excused themselves to bed and finally you decided to as well. Mattheo excused himself, too, offering to walk you back. You just nodded, a little too tired and still a little tipsy to care. He walked you with a hand on the small of your back.
Once you reached your dorm, he closed the door behind him. You sat down on your bed, taking off your shoes before realizing he was still there.
“You okay?” You asked him.
“You had nudes on your phone.” He said bluntly as he stared at you.
Your face heated up, remembering the nudes you took. You did it just to feel good about yourself, not to send to anyone. “Fuck. I forgot about those.”
“Clearly.” You could hear the irritation in his tone.
“I should’ve deleted those. I’m sorry. That’s embarrassing.” You said, avoiding eye contact as you tossed your shoes to the side.
“Who’d you send those to?” He asked, his eyes never leaving you.
“No one.” You admitted, fiddling with the end of your skirt.
“Most people don’t take nudes for ‘no one.’” He said, walking over to you so he stood in front of you.
“Well, I did. No one got those photos.” You said, shrugging slightly as you watch your hands playing with the hem of your skirt.
“Why would you take them then?”
“Just to feel better about myself.” You shrugged again, feeling awkward about the whole encounter.
He raised your head up to meet his eyes with a finger under your chin, leaning down to get closer to your face. “So no one else got to see your little nudes you took? Just me?”
“Yeah. Just you.” You nodded, staring him in the eyes, still blushing incredibly hard.
“You know, you're so pretty.” His tone became soft, his eyes wandering along your body for a moment before he decided to lean down further and kiss you.
Your tipsy mind took a few seconds to respond before kissing him back. He pushed you to lay down on the bed, nudging himself between your legs.
He made quick work of your clothes, he had seen you naked already, now he wanted to feel you. He leaned back once he got you naked, admiring you. His hands wandered along your body, feeling your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, your arms.
“You're fucking beautiful. You don't know how mad I got thinking you sent those pictures to someone else.” He admitted. “I've wanted you all to myself for a while now.”
“This seems a little unfair right now.” You squirmed under his touch. “You getting to see me naked but I haven't seen you naked.”
“So impatient.” He tsked before slipping his fingers inside you. “Fuck, you're soaked.”
“Matty, please!” You grabbed onto his wrist.
“Let me take my time with you.” He grabbed your hand and held it down to your side with his free hand.
You moaned, squeezing your legs around his sides as they tried closing on his hand.
“I've been thinking about getting you like this for so long. Thinking about touching you like this. Thinking about how you feel.” He kneeled down between your legs. “How you taste.” He said before licking your pussy. He let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your thigh to keep them opened, your hands moving to tangle in his hair.
“Fuck, Matty, so good.” You moaned, watching him as he ate your sweet cunt. His eyes were locked on your face, wanting to see every reaction he could pull from you.
He just wanted to hear all your pretty sounds, feel you tug his hair, have you cum on his face. His finger and mouth kept their assault on you, making your legs shake around his head, making you try bucking into his face, making you moan and cry, until he finally made you cum as you cried out his name. He groaned as you pulled on his hair, helping you ride out your orgasm.
“You're fucking perfect when you cum, baby.” He said as he stood up, now stripping down himself. “You gonna give me one more, yeah?” He asked as he settled back between your thighs, sliding his dick through your folds, nudging at your clit.
“Yeah.” You nodded, biting your lip as you watched his cock.
“Good girl. You just lay there and look pretty.” He eased his tip into you, hearing your moan as he began to stretch you out. He slowly pushed in, wanting you to feel every inch as he did. “You're so fucking tight, princess. Feels so fucking good.”
“Fuck, so big.” You whined, hands gripping at the sheets.
“It's gonna feel so good, baby. Gonna mold you to my cock so no one else feels as good as me.” He said before he started rocking his hips. You both moaned as he leaned down over you, his hands roaming over your skin again, landing on your breasts. He massaged them with his hands, pulling one away after a moment to attach his lips to your nipple.
“Fuck, that feels good, Matty.” You moaned, back arching into his mouth.
He started thrusting faster, harder, wanting to make you feel good, wanting to bury his cock deeper in you. “You have no idea what you do to me, angel. I need you to cum on my cock. Need to feel you squeezing my dick.”
Your hands moved to hold onto his arms, feeling the muscles as he held himself over you. You were moaning and whimpering, eyes rolling back from the pleasure.
“That's it. Who's making you feel this good? Who's dick is in you right now?” He asked, hips relentlessly driving into yours.
“You! Your dick! Fuck, Matty!” You cried out, feeling your orgasm about to hit.
“That's right, princess. Mine. Cum on my cock.”
Your orgasm hit you hard and your body shook as you cried out his name along with some profanity. He helped ride out your orgasm before pulling out and cumming on your stomach.
“You're mine now.” He said softly before kissing you.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict
Let me know if you wanna be added!
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys smut#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle
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Marvel Cursing
You see, Marvel cursing, is a rare occurrence as the man’s swear vocabulary normally consists of “holy moly” and “oh my days” and “good gravy” and just things along those lines. So much so that JL kind of forgets that he can curse as he’s (supposedly) a grown ass man. As a result of this, it will give them major whiplash when Marvel does curse. And just for me, myself and I, whenever this happens, he pulls out the most midwestern accent ever. I say this cause Fawcett is somewhere in the Midwest.
Like let’s say Constantine and Marvel are talking and Clark is nearby doing whatever and after a bit, their conversation ends and Constantine walks off. As the blonde man is leaving, Clark hears Marvel fake a cough and mutter “bitchass” under his breath. It’s safe to say Billy’s still a little (a lot) mad about Constantine trying to take the living lightning from him. But anyways, hearing this, Supes stops whatever he was doing and slowly looks over to Marvel who’s kinda not really but also definitely glaring at Constantine as the man left. For the rest of the day, Clark kept side eying Marvel to see if he was mind controlled but then he remembered the Cap was a grown ass man and that he could cuss if he pleased. (None of the league knows he’s a child guys)
Or another time when Marvel was talking to Mary in the kitchen of Mount Justice. Kid Flash sped by just in time to hear Marvel say something along the lines of “Christ on a cross, what a dumb cunt” while sounding so disappointed in whoever that was directed at. Wally poked his head into the kitchen to see the two, Mary sitting by the counter and Marvel making some type of dessert. He was wearing a lightning bolt patterned apron and everything.
Kid Flash: “Heeeey guys… Whatcha talking about?” *has never heard Marvel curse once in his entire time of being their den mother so he’s naturally a little concerned*
Mary and Marvel: *share look before looking back at Kid Flash*
Mary: “We were talking about… uh… Your guy’s recent performance in field!” (They weren’t. They were actually talking about some crackhead who lived nearby them.)
Marvel: “Yeah, that.” *stops stirring batter in a bowl* “By the way, I’m making cookies, you want some later?”
Kid Flash: “Oh. Uh… yeah. Igottagobye.” *zooms off to the lounge*
Marvel and Mary: *both confused at the sudden departure, but shrug it off and go back to talking about the crackhead*
Kid Flash: *now in the lounge* “Guys- Guys!”
Other YJ members: “What?”
Kid Flash: “Marvel thinks one of us is dumb cunt!”
Other YJ members: “WHAT?”
They all ended up trying to do that thing where you subtly ask someone for information like “Hey, Marvel, how’d you think we all did during the last mission?” “You all did wonderful!” Safe to say it doesn’t really help them. Also neither Mary, nor Billy realize they just made these kids more insecure than their teenage brains naturally make them.
#billy batson#captain marvel dc#dc captain marvel#shazam#fawcett#fawcett city#fawcett comics#mary batson#mary bromfield#mary marvel
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Okay, Tim Bradford x reader, but the reader is a police captain and becomes the captain of the mid-wilshire division after Zoë and that one dude. They are married, and the reader is expecting?
It's Captain, baby
Tim Bradford x wife!reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, Tim being a little grumpy Word count: 879 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I hope you like it. It was very fun to write and I really like the idea!
Enjoy!
It was meant as a surprise - really.
He knew you wanted to become a captain one day, so when the LAPD asked if you wanted to become the captain of mid wilshire, you instantly said yes.
That you'd be the captain of your own husband, slipped your mind in said moment, though.
You decided not to tell him 'for now', pushing the matter further and further away, until there was no further anymore - until the day you were supposed to start as captain.
Maybe it wasn't the best idea, risking that he'd have a heart attack or get mad, when he saw you - especially considering that you were six months pregnant, and your new position meant stress and pressure - something you weren't supposed to have until in at least about three months, when you were in labor.
Biting your lip and rocking on your heels, you nervously waited for Sergeant Grey to announce you.
The moment he'd say your name, Tim would find out - and he wouldn't like that you refrained from telling him beforehand.
But he was a professional - he wouldn't let you see any emotion on his face during roll call - no, he would tell you how he felt in detail afterwards, giving you an even more guilty conscience.
"And now, I'm happy to introduce our new captain: Y/N Bradford! Please give her a warm welcome." Grey announced, causing your heart to miss a beat, as your hands doubled their sweating.
Taking a deep breath, you entered the room, trying to avoid Tim's face - which, despite your supposition, showed the slightest bit of shock and anger - as you made your way to the pult.
Forcing yourself to smile at the numerous people applauding you, you braced yourself for the speech you had prepared.
"Hello, for those who don't know me yet, my name's Y/N Bradford - yes, I'm sergeant Bradford's wife, and yes, I am pregnant." you started nervously.
A fit of quiet laughter echoed through the crowd, lifting some of the weight off your shoulders.
"I'm proud to call myself captain of the mid Wilshire department." you continued, nodding slightly. "I started here as a rookie, thinking that I knew everything and could do everything. But I didn't - which is an important thing to realize. We're all here for one goal: the safety of our city."
Your eyes briefly found Tim's, his jaw clenched. He looked straight back at you, not even blinking.
"But that means, that we have to learn a lot, especially about ourselves. I know how hard you work for this goal, and I know what it takes to do so. I once was where you are now, and I will have your backs, no matter what. If there's something you wanna talk about - let me know. I'm here to support you, and it's an honor to be your captain. That's it."
They applauded again, causing your cheeks to turn pinkish. Your heart beat fastened in your chest, hands trembling a little, as you smiled at them.
They were your people now, they counted on you, and you'd do everything in your power, to never let them down.
When the room cleared, Tim was the only one still sitting with his arms crossed over his chest.
He was clearly angry.
Taking a shaky breath, you walked over to him, preparing yourself for his speech.
He stayed silent for a couple more moments, just staring at you, before he stood, hands on the table as he leaned towards you.
"Did you even plan to tell me at all?" he wanted to know, brows furrowed. It took all his might not to get too loud, trying to look calmer than he was as well.
His colleagues didn't need to know that he was angry - fuming even.
"Did you think about our baby? What if it's too dangerous - not to mention the stress! Why didn't you tell me beforehand?"
"I did want to tell you." you stated, biting your lip. "But I didn't know how to. I wanted to surprise you, but I pushed it further and further away. I thought it all through, and I'm gonna take it slow - no harm for the baby. Imagine my surprise when they asked me to become their captain - me of all people!"
He bit his lip as well, the corners of his mouth twitching treacherously. At least he wouldn't stay angry at you for long.
"Are you happy?" he wanted to know, glancing at your belly. It was getting harder each day to find something that covered it up at least a little.
Nodding, you pressed out a dry laugh. "I am, but I'm scared as shit." you admitted, causing the crinkles around his eyes to deepen.
"I mean, I wanted to become a captain for so long, but - how to captain? How does this work? It's like my mind suddenly just went blank."
He chuckled, keeping himself from kissing you in front of the curious eyes watching you - didn't they have any work to do?
"I'm glad you like it, baby." he said honestly, his lips wide in a proud smile, as you huffed, cocking a brow.
"It's Captain, baby."
#the rookie#the rookie imagine#the rookie x reader#the rookie x u#tim bradford#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x you#tim bradford imagine#imagine
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Ex bf theo who was really toxic and was a bad bf but after the break up he matures and tries tonget you back?
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
THEODORE NOTT HAD ALWAYS BEEN AN ENIGMA, a puzzle that you never quite managed to solve. during your relationship, his brooding silence and sharp wit had initially drawn you in, but over time, they became the very things that chipped away at your happiness. he was toxic — possessive, distant, and emotionally unavailable. the relationship became a series of ups and downs, with moments of passion followed by long stretches of cold indifference. you spent too much time trying to reach him, trying to make him care the way you did, but in the end, it was clear that he wasn't ready to be the person you needed him to be.
the breakup had been inevitable. it was messy and painful, filled with harsh words and lingering regrets. you walked away shattered but determined to heal, to rebuild yourself without the weight of his darkness pulling you down. months passed, and slowly but surely, you began to find your footing again. life moved on, and so did you — or at least, you tried to.
then, one day, theodore showed up in your life again.
it was the warmest day of early september. you were in diagon alley, browsing through the rows of books at flourish and blotts, when you felt that painfully familiar presence behind you. your heart skipped a beat, a mixture of dread and curiosity flooding your senses. you turned, and there he was, standing awkwardly near the entrance, his hands buried deep in his pockets.
theodore looked different. although he was still the tall, slender figure with the same piercing eyes that once made your heart race, something had changed. his posture was more relaxed, his expression softer. gone was the constant scowl that used to mar his handsome features, replaced now with what seemed like genuine vulnerability.
“hey,” he said, his voice lower than you remembered, almost hesitant.
you blinked slowly, caught off guard by his presence. “theo?”
he shifted on his feet, glancing around the shop before meeting your gaze again. the use of his nickname by you stirred up unforgettable memories inside him. “can we talk? in private,”
you nodded at his request hesitantly and followed the boy, now who seemed like a man. he hurt you badly, and there was no reason for him to talk to you ever again, so why was he seeking you now?
theo’s quiet voice broke the silence between the two of you as you stood in a smaller aisle of the shop. “i’ve been thinking about you — a lot,” he admitted. “there’s something i have to say to you or i’ll go mad.”
you didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to expect. theodore had never been one to easily admit fault, and seeing him now, looking almost remorseful, was jarring. part of you wanted to turn and walk away, to avoid reopening old wounds, but another part — the part that once loved him truly and deeply — wanted to hear what he had to say.
“i know now i was a terrible boyfriend,” he began, his eyes not leaving yours. “i treated you horribly, and i don’t deserve your forgiveness. but i’ve changed. i know it’s hard to believe, but i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about everything i did wrong, everything i took for granted.”
he paused, as if searching for the right words. “i’ve been working on myself, trying to understand why i was the way i was. i didn’t realize how much i needed to grow up until you were gone.”
his words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you could hear the sincerity in his voice, see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t easy to let go of the past. too many memories of broken promises and hurtful words still lingered in your mind.
“theo, i . . .” you hesitated, unsure how to respond. “i’m glad you’ve been working on yourself, really, but i don’t know if i can just forget everything that happened. you hurt me, a lot.”
he nodded and his eyes found comfort on your hands. “i know. and i don’t expect you to just take me back. i just wanted you to know that i’m sorry for how i was. truly. and . . . if there’s ever a chance, even a small one, that we could try again . . . i would do everything differently. i would be better for you.”
theodore nott’s words were raw, unfiltered, and they hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. this wasn’t the theodore you had known — the one who hid behind sarcasm and anger. this was someone who had faced his demons and was trying, really trying, to be a better man. but could you trust him? could you risk your heart again after everything that had happened?
“i need time, theo,” you finally said, your voice soft but firm. “i can’t just jump back into something that hurt me so much.”
the slytherin nodded again, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. “i understand. i’ll wait as long as it takes. and if you never want to try again, i’ll respect that too. i just needed you to know that i’m sorry, and that i’m here if you ever want to give us another chance.”
with that, he turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look — a look filled with all the things he had never been able to say before.
#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott oneshot#theodore nott fic#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott drabble#theodore nott#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theo nott fluff#theo nott one shot#theo nott fic#theo nott x reader#theo nott imagine#theo nott fanfiction#x reader#reader insert#harry potter x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin x reader#slytherin boys x reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction
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hey girl! are you writing for franco atm??? if so I wanted to see if you could write smth like fluff or reader and franco get in a fight maybe bcs of the time zones and races and he surprises her one night before race weekend like he catches a flight to see her but she still won’t budge on talking to him xxx
YELL AND FLY - FC43
listen up : just arguing but ending in comfort. thanks for the request this lowk almost made me cry
word count : 877
⋆。‧˚⋆
I can hear him pacing, the sounds of drilling and tires in the background, “I’m just tired, Franco.” We’ve been like this for an hour, I keep hearing him swear in spanish and making sure everyone leaves him alone.
“You don’t think I am?” he groans as someone tries to speak to him again, “Fuck, obviously I’m tired! You’re not the one working every weekend.”
I scoff and sit up in my bed, the sun not even up yet, “That's unfair and you know it, Franco! I work! I work even more when you’re away!” I say sarcastically, “But I'm sorry that you have to do the job you chose and you love!”
I shake my head as he responds, “I didn’t mean that, love.”
“Yes you did. And that’s fine but don’t push your anger onto me. You always do shit like this.”
“Like what?” His voice raises.
I run my hand into my hair, “You don’t think I support you.”
“Well it’s hard to think that when you’re not here supporting me.” I want to hit him, then myself. How could he think that? After I said I wanted to be there but couldn’t because I was fucking working. He takes it back quickly, “I’m sorry i’m just overwhelmed-”
“Franco. I’m tired.” Tired of this. Tired of waking up so early and staying up late for a ten minute call where we just fight, “we should talk about this later.”
He still sounds angry, “I’m busy all day.”
I stay silent. What am I supposed to say? Cry and tell him to not be? I have no choice but to nod.
“Good luck.”
He sighs, I hear the ruffling of his hair, “I’m sorry. I wish you were here.”
“Me too.” He’s mad at me and I’m mad at him. I’ve been with Franco long before his F1 debut, but us yelling over the phone every weekend isn’t something I expected with the job.
⋆。‧˚⋆
I watched his race, texted him, and logged off social media for the day. He’s off to Mexico but I just can’t leave right now. I’m sitting in the kitchen, eating my cereal and leaning over the counter while listening to Taylor Swift.
There’s a knock at the door, I groan. I’m in the same pajamas as two days ago and my hair is in the messiest bun I've seen in a while.
When I open the door, my jaw actually drops.
“Franco?” I poke him as if I think he’s some figment of my imagination. Have I really gone that crazy that I'm imagining my boyfriend at my door?
“Hi, love.” He’s real. He walks in, shutting the door softly. I want to cry as he slips his arms around me, “I’m so sorry.”
His voice washes over me and I hug him tighter, breathing him in and realizing how much I missed how he smells.
“I’m mad at you.” It comes out as a whisper, my voice broken and sad.
“You can be.” I pull back a bit, his hands in my hair, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Why are you here?” I cross my arms, stepping back.
Franco looks nervous, a bag by his side, “I wanted to see you. I thought you wanted that too…”
“Of course I did!” I sigh dramatically.
He smiles at my anger, “So, I'm here for you.”
I shake my head, going to the kitchen and cleaning up my breakfast. I don’t know how to feel. I’m so happy he’s here. But then what? He’ll just leave again and I’ll watch two second clips of him on the TV?
He follows me into the kitchen, “Love… Let me do it.” I let him because I hate the dishes.
I sit on the counter, watching him gently washing the bowl with his sleeves rolled up. He drys his hands, then looks up at me.
“I’m sorry for being mad.” I look at the floor but he steps in between my legs so I look at him, “It’s just hard.”
“It’s hard for me too. I want you there all the time but I'm so proud of you!” he puts his hands on my outer thighs, “Time Zones suck.”
I laugh, wiping my eyes from the tears that spill down my face, “I’m proud of you too. Shit, you’re so amazing. I hate working.”
“Quit.” He says it so fast.
“Franco!” I swat at his arm, letting out a sort of sob laugh.
“Okay, you can quit when I get a full time seat.” I laugh as he smiles softly up at me, “I know it’s rough right now.”
“We can work through it. We’re us.” His thumbs smooth over my cheeks.
He nods, “We’re us.”
“How long are you here for?”
He frowns, “I leave tomorrow night.” I frown with him, “But I'm here now.”
I sigh, knowing he’s right. I look up at my boyfriend, his hands on me. I know I need to live in the moment now.
I kiss him softly and he pulls me into another hug, his arms around my waist, “I love you.”
I run my hands through his hair, “I love you too. We can do this.”
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto angst#franco colapinto fluff
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baby boy — 성훈 ꒰ঌ ໒꒱
PREC .ᐟ S : sunghoon wanted to be your good boy for a long time, his pervy thoughts just had to be released at one point.
𝓅 arings. perv!sunghoon x reader
🎀 .ᐟ 𝓌 arnings — smut. talks of breeding. s reader was sleeping . dirty talk. dub:non - con. dirty talk. mommy/good boy talk. lmk if i’m missing anything else ⋆⑅˚₊
☥🐾 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪ - authors note : hii! it’s hana ♡ this us just a short thought but i hope you guys enjoy, im trying to get better at writing so 💝
but sunghoon couldn’t hold back anymore. it was pitch black in the room, his cock hard in his pants. begging to be released and touched by your soft tiny hands. you were sleeping so softly just 15 feet away from him. but sunghoon couldn’t do it anymore. he got up quietly making his way over to your bed, peeking over your shoulder to make sure you were actually asleep. His fingers softly touching the blanket to not scare you away, he lifted up the blanket. your soft body on display for him. “f-fuck” his cock spewing up precum just from this purely innocent view. he made his way in between your legs, placing himself just centimeters from your tight pussy that he had been dreaming off for months now.
he moved your lacy panties to the slide, grabbing his cock in hand jerking off a bit before sliding it in. a whimper coming from his mouth. he slowly moved to not wake you, his thrust were soft at first, but your tight pussy felt so good around his cock. sunghoon couldn’t control himself, his need for your taking over as he started to fuck you faster.
“s-sunghoon?” you whimpered as you stirred awake — “fuck! sunghoon what are you doing!?” you started to panic realizing what was really going on. his thrust started to speed up as the panicking was making you tighter around him. “y/n.. fuck your so cute when you sleep, i couldn’t help myself- fuck! please let me do this momm-“ his word slurred as he thrusted.
each thrust is harder than the last. you swear his cock is going to split you in half. who would’ve thought a nerd who spends his days inside doing god knows what, has such a good cock. his thrust were starting to become sloppy. “g-od, sunghoon! fuck i’m gonna cum please keep going for mommy fuck!” you moaned out loudly. your nails gripping onto his back, scratching his back.
he whimpered into your ear. saying all of his dirty secrets into your ear;
“i love you mommy… i wanted to fuck this pussy since the day i saw you”
“i would do anything for you please don’t be mad at me…”
“g-god mommy pleas-e let me breed you… i can’t keep it in! fuck mommy please let me make you a mommy i promise i’ll do anything for you”
as he slurred his words into your ear, his thrust started to speed up. you felt yourself getting near your orgasm. “your such-such a good boy baby, cum inside me! fuck sunghoon make me a mommy- breed me” your words being the last thing he needed as he dumped his warm load into your pussy.
he sighed as he fell onto your chest. “i love you y/n,, im sorry i couldn’t stop myself.” you giggled as you kissed him gently on his forehead as you held him in your arms.
little did he know you were just as pervy as him. having a album of pictures of him & those countless nights of fucking yourself on a dildo moaning and screaming his name out.
໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ : tysm for reading pls lmk if you had any requests or tips. 💝🐾
#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon hard thoughts#teddursa writes !?#sunghoon smau#sunghoon smut#sunghoon
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𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)
read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!
Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.
He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking. You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.
That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you. Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?
Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer. Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.
But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue. Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.
I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…
He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably. And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you. Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?
And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.
As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.
“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud. “You want it, baby? It’s all fucking yours.”
He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier. Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.
You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off. It was still true, but more specific than necessary. He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too. But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.
“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now. It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.
He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…
His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm. “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”
He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close. Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge. His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.
It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment. The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.
His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you. He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.
When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.
No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.
It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind. After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers. (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)
Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless. He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.
Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.
He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.
Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut. As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.
Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention. “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.
“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”
The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.
For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had. He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you. He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual. Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.
Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake. Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.
The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.
Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top. Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.
“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”
“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not. Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter. “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.
“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized. “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”
“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”
“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, “I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”
The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.
“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile. Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next. “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”
He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion. “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”
“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.
Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered. “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh. “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”
“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.
“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away. He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned. “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”
Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away. The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.
Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.
He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you. You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling. But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.
Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.
Is this what love feels like?
//
It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more. Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?
But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you. Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders. Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—
Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.
You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him. Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.
For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz. It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.
Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent. His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough. Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party. Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.
And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you. He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.
“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.
“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed. “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”
“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”
He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away. “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.
“Tell me what?”
“You remember Brian Stevenson?”
“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur. “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”
“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.
“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously. “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”
“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed. You nodded. He looked away. “Right— that’s… cool. That’s cool.”
You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden. “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”
“Right,” he interrupted sharply. “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know. That it wasn’t anything.”
“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.
“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen. “Did you even mean that?”
“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously. “That’s… that’s just something people say…”
He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you. He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.
“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.
“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor. “Don’t lie to me anymore.”
“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.
“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply. “It’s— you know, it is what it is. It was just one of those things.”
“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded. He didn’t. And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.
“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.
“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.
Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands. That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad. Not devastated. Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.
It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun. You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.
//
It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party. Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail. There was a lot more alcohol, though.
You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on. Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.
Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back. “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him. Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up. It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable. He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.
You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race. Who, after all, would he be racing against?
For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably). He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.
Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly. “Who’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”
You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.
Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.
“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious. Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even. You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.
“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.
“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.
“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him. “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”
“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again. “Fucking idiots…”
Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you. “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.
“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?
Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.
“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.
“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.
“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.
“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.
A brief moment passed. “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.
“Jesus,” you hissed.
“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained. “We were so good together.”
“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”
“No— it’s not. It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.
“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.
“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced. “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”
“Damn right I’m not!” he spat. “You’re all I could think about, for months! Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head! And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything. Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”
“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.
“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you. “Does he make you feel special? Does he make you come?”
“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay? I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”
“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you. But… but what about me, y’know? He doesn’t need you like I do.”
Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.
“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t? But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you. I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid! You’re my dream girl!”
“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain. “That’s a fantasy!”
“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side. “It’s so real, you know it is.”
You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that. You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.
And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless. He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian. You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.
He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other. You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment. Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.
Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so. But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did. And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.
//
You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement. You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him. He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?
“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.
“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.
“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.
He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.
“It was a mistake,” you decided. “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go. And if you didn’t tell Brian.”
“Okay,” he nodded slowly. “I wasn’t gonna tell him. But I still think you should dump him.”
“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.
“I know,” he breathed.
You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.
“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened. “I fucking love you.”
“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.
“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded. “I know how I feel, okay? When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”
You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench. Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.
“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed. “You love me too, don’t you? I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it? It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”
“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”
He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again. “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”
“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained. “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”
“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this. I want to really be together,” he replied. You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again. “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”
You shook your head. “No, you can’t do that.”
“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized. You smiled, but shook your head again.
“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.
He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground. “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”
“What?!” you blurted out. “Angus, no—”
“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms. “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown. You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”
“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”
“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.
Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment. “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little. “You can do a lot better than a state school.”
“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously. “My grades are kinda… inconsistent. And I went to so many different high schools—”
“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed. “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here. You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”
He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.
“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him. “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”
For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face. “Wait— is that what this is all about?”
“What?”
“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.
You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him. Instead of answering directly, you just stammered. “Well, y-you’re young, and—”
He cut you off quickly with a laugh. “Oh my god! You think I give a shit about that?”
“No,” you shot back, “but you should. You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge. “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with? What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without? Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”
“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently. “It’s your first love. It fades.”
“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen. “God, I don’t want it to.”
You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before. In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact. It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.
When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please. Tell me it’s not going to end.”
“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest. “It has to end, someday.”
You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.
“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.
Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.
There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end. And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good. That hope had only ever led to pain before. But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.
So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday. Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings. Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave. Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless. Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.
Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive. Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again. Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.
The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter. It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful. He loved you. Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special. His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.
When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away. “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it. You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable. After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.
Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different. I trust you. I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try. I’m sorry. I’m so glad I met you. I’ll never forget you. Please don’t let me go.
Somehow, you felt like he heard each one. Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.
//
Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long. You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.
The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets. Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels. You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.
Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.
“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.
“Yeah,” you agreed.
“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.
Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh. “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.
“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.
“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed. “Don’t joke about that.”
“I’m not,” he shrugged. “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”
“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much. “Not here.”
“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even. You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee. After a few moments, though, you spoke again.
“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”
“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave. You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass. Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.
When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside. Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.
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