#I continue to procrastinate by writing this message

[eleventhsister]

I have something for barriss day, but I probably won't be able to post it until late tonight or tomorrow since I have been shirking my responsibilities 👍

[missingn000]

what if i exploded like what if that were something that i did

[thegoldensundreamer]

Love At Last

Onyankopon x black!reader

Warnings: exes, use of n word, squirting, fingering (f receiving), eating out (f receiving)

Word Count: 6.2k

He was a little older than me. A junior, and I, a sophomore. In college, you only had two focuses: have fun and study, and truthfully it helped me. No matter what anyone told me I had control to do whatever I wanted in life and didn't want anyone's opinions on how I'd be living it.

Honestly, that's what made my other ex's love me and even some, hate me.  But I mean it wasn't like he was always putting his expectations too high for me. Onyankopon just wanted to see me as my best self. When we broke up and I told him the reason as to why I couldn't do it anymore, it all really didn't make sense. I wanted to tell myself that I knew the reason as to why he was just so terrible but subconsciously I knew I didn't. And it was hard for me these past months. Really hard. I been seeing him on campus like a thousand times and he just keeps getting more beautiful and glowin like the sun.

He's the head of his team now and it never helps me that he didn't ever have any girls he just messed around with. Especially bonding and having a real relationship with his exes. Including me. And Its painful seeing him just living his life and me not hating him for any reason because he is really a great guy. So whenever I see him I make sure to shift my eyes to the complete opposite direction of where his head is at. Or even cover my face with a book or a water bottle to not have that awkward walk past. But I kind of wish he chased after me... and although I know its selfish I'm just as confused as when I left that boy. But I guess we all just have to move on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"The assignment is still due this Sunday at 11:59 on Blackboard. I don't want any emails, text messages, or conversations next class about an extension. Period."

I honestly think Professor Rodriguez is tweaking now. No excuses? What if someone is sick or something?

The whole class groans as we pack all of our stuff. I mean, it's just a paper so I'm not tripping or anything. I just got to make sure to do it before the Que party this weekend. There's never been a problem before so I don't think I have anything to worry about.

Me and my girls have been planning to go to one of the Que parties we keep infamously hearing about. It's always wild, lit, and memorable till you graduate. All of a sudden when you get that degree they don't exist no more because you don't want no one to know of the hoe tales.

I haven't been to one of their parties yet, but Im excited. I haven't been outside in a while especially since I ended things with Ony. A few kickbacks here and there were going on this past semester for me but that's about it. I like being inside just as much or even more than I like being out.

When I walk down the university building, I put in my headphones ready to blast some Sexyy Red. That woman music got something in it I swear.

"I'm looking for the hoooesssss" I mouth to myself while I nod my head. Shit, I forgot how hard that bass goes. As I bob my head I can't remotely hear the voice behind me trying to catch my attention.

It was Jaden, one of Ony’s teammates, and he's also in Professor Rodriquez class. He gave up calling my name and just let me go.

•••

When I finally left the building and head to my car I instantly switch my music over to the Bluetooth aux and look at my assignment before I pull off. You see... he assigned it to us last Friday and I for real have just been procrastinating till now. I would say my time management is usually really good but its not.

"Ok so I got to just write about 500 words. I could do this tonight no problem."

I put down my phone and start adjusting my rear view mirror only to find light grey clouds of the day turning darker grey. I really hope it don't storm when I'm on the road.

Driving out of the lot and onto the highway, I continue blasting my hoochie playlist. Shrugging at the random pain in my heart I'm feeling, I call one of my girls talking about how much I think this party gon cut all my feelings from Ony and revive the party girl in me.

Im pulling into my apartment complex excited . I haven't been this joyous to go to a party in a while. The mere thought of shaking ass is bringing me serotonin. Just a sweet release of stress. Plus, it's Friday and the party is Saturday night so I'm definitely geeking.

When I stumble up the steps right before the entrance to my residence giddy and jovial, looking for my key, I slightly looked up. The scream in my head is definitely showing me how much I'm not over this feeling in my heart.

I stopped my movement and fought the urge to back step all the way back into my car and hide. I'm not sure why hes here at this time. It's 5:30 which isn't late for real but just a bit confusing enough to make you question why the hell someone is at your door uninvited. Especially since its here. At my apartment. And it's him. With his aura and skin glistening like oil on a hot body.

He was in some black muscle shirt with matching jogger pants. Shyly smiling at me at first but then noticing my expression, he looked down at the state of his body and cringed before looking back in my eyes. Clearly embarrassed. "Sorry you seeing me like this, I just came from practice so I'm still a little sweaty"

I secretly moaned in my head. He looks so good I had to catch my breath and his voice is still captivating up to now. I still can't forget the way he used to t-

I'm getting sidetracked. Let me regain this composure.

"Is there something you need?" I quietly ask. This is no good. The whole point is out of sight out of mind. You know how you want to block somebody on everything and really go out of your way to not see them in person so you won't have to think about them or double back? Well I feel like I'm breaking that right now. It's not my fault sure but the shame still feels the same.

Ony pulls out an object from his pocket. A white, slightly long but thin figure. He looks at it for a moment before looking up at me again and holding it up.

"I came here to give this to you. Im pretty sure it's yours. At least that's what Jaden said."

I squint my eyes in confusion at what he was holding and hurriedly looked through my tote bag to find that I did not have my Apple Pencil for my iPad.

So that's why he's here.

Apple pencils are expensive so I'm not mad. I would've been more upset if I only figured out I dropped it when I got inside and tried to start my paper. But how did he even get it?

He reached his arm out as I began to walk up to him for my pencil. I thanked him for bringing it to me and awkward silence overtook the little rain droplets that noted the thunderstorm about to take place.

Our hands touched ever so slightly as I grabbed my missing pencil. I withdrew immediately and he did the same faintly after. After a few long seconds, he broke the silence.

"Jaden gave it to me at the locker rooms after practice. He said he tried to give it to you after class but couldn't catch up or something so I guess he just wanted me to carry out the deed especially with some paper he mentioned."

I grinned and slightly nodded in understanding, quickly glancing at his eyes before staring at the Apple Pencil. It's strange. He can't really look me in the eye. I mean, I can't either but he's 6'2" so my excuse is good. On top of that, the nonchalance in his tone doesn't sit right with me. It's either he's forcing it or a part of me wants to believe he is just to delude myself that he still cares. It's unfair of me, especially since I probably broke his heart, but it's the real.

"I'll thank Jaden when I see him next class. Thank you for bringing it to me." I quip and walk past him to my door, beginning to find my keys in my bag with the pencil still in hand.

Damn when did I get this shy?

Onys attempt at being nonchalant somewhat was breaking. He stared at the pencil smiling as he spoke and pointed.

"I'm surprised you still have Chowder on there".

I turned my head around, mid-hand in bag. He was referring to the little sticker I had on my ex-missing item. The one that would help me differentiate my pencil from everyone else's so no one would take it. The one he gave me as a funny gift for the love of our mutual favorite childhood show.

I'm surprised he still remembers these little details about me. About us.

"Well it's still my favorite show. I don't think that's ever going to change." I giggle looking back for my keys.

It's hard to do this. To face him. How do people talk to their exes? This isn't even my first but damn. Now my minds all over the place with him and us all over it. All those memories we share. Good and bad.

I stop fiddling in my bag and spoke under my breath with the same thought, caught up in the idea.  "I'm surprised you still remember." I mumbled to myself.

I can feel his presence and his eyes on me, not exactly sure what his actions are. But his voice speaks up with a small sense of fervor in his tone. Something undeniably him. The tone I always craved since it left me.

"Y/n, you can't tell me you don't call to mind how Ive remembered every single thing I've been blessed to learn about you"

I still my hands from roaming once again after I found my keys. At this point, I don't know what's going on. But as I motion my mouth to find what to say a grand lightning bolt flashed down from the sky, hitting somewhere nearby. Thunder that sounded like an earthquake erupted, immediately pouring heavy rain down with it. With that, we instantaneously saw lampposts shut off. All electricity in the area immediately being gone in an instant.

"Ain't no way" I groaned. I can't believe this. I look around at all of the dark areas surrounding the complex except for the emergency lights powered from the generator. Putting my keys in the door, I heavily sigh opening up my residence.

Slowly walking in to the dim natural light from the blinds I turn around to Onyankopon, standing still at the doorstep, and tell him he can come in.

"Are you sure? My car is all good and everything I can still drive."

"In this storm?" I ask raising my eyebrow. I rolled my eyes, "You not gon get nowhere the way this storm going right now. It's fine. Plus, your place is probably out of electricity too."

He nods, "Well thanks, I really appreciate it" He awkwardly steps into the 3 bedroom apartment. My girls usually have class during this time last I checked so we're the only ones here.

I grab some candles to light across my home hoping for some sort of spark to brighten up the place.

Once I withdrew a breath and looked around, the rooms seemed to be lit up enough comfortably outside of the insanely romantic essence it gave off. I stood up from where I was crouched by the living room table where I made eye contact with him sitting up on the couch.

"Soooo could I get you anything?" I awkwardly stand there and he's just sitting... menacingly.

Ugh who am I kidding he looks so geeked out right now.

"It's honestly fine. Once the storm passes I'll be right out forreal you don't have to go through any trouble." He laughs.

With that in mind I obliged and went to my room setting up my laptop and iPad with my now found Apple Pencil. Since the electricity's gone that means I shouldn't have any distractions on focusing on my work.

"Right y/n, focus on the goal. It don't matter that your ex is in the other room. Get on your zoom!" Mumbling to myself  as I type in my username to blackboard to view the rubric.

"What the-"

Shit. Of course blackboard and the wifi is down too if all the electricity is out.

As I groan and leave my room to get a glass of water, I'm getting Ony one too. Seeing him roaming on his phone and placing the glass in front of him on the table I sit on the sofa opposite of him.

He looks up from his phone, "You did not have to do this", he began to grin to himself as he lifted the cup and started to drink.

As I began to speak we both got a notification.

ALL UNIVERSITY STUDENTS: ELECTRICITY IS DOWN ON CAMPUS AND ON AND OFF CAMPUS HOUSING DUE TO A SEVERE WEATHER STORM. MORE UPDATES WILL COME SOON. CURRENTLY, AN ESTIMATION OF 3 HOURS WILL BE NEEDED TO REPAIR DAMAGES TO ELECTRICAL UNITS.

"Fuck" I groaned.

"You're not gonna be able to finish that paper huh?" He questioned.

"No and it's due Sunday. I was hoping to knock it out today before the weekend really starts. I don't need to procrastinate anymore than I already have."

"Oh trust me I remember." He laughed. "I can help yknow. There's nothing else we can do here."

"On what though? Blackboard is down."

"Not google docs or notes app though." He smiled, "As long as you know what you're supposed to write about you're set."

"But I like looking at the rubric when I write to make sure my grades solidified"

"I'm hearing a lot of excuses misses honors student. If you wanted to do it you would at this point. Plus, my specialty is writing papers so I can definitely help"

I remember oh so well. This reminds me of when I procrastinated on a paper last semester the weekend before it was due just like this one and we stayed up till 3 AM writing it. So many laughs and double shot espressos from that time. His specialty really is writing essays and all sorts of papers. That assignment was 5000 words and we started the Saturday and still got an A.

"Shit, why not. It's only 500 words anyway" I joke.

He smiled and we got to work. The first hour went by like nothing. It felt like old times. 200 words were typed but the only thing holding us back was that I actually need to have proper cited sources. Professor Rodriguez do not play around either so it's been a painstaking amount of time trying to find anything with no internet and a on and off personal hotspot.

As Ony and I sit next to each other working on the paper, he lifts up his glass and it accidentally slipped out of his hands onto the table.

"Ah damn I'm so sorry. Let me-"

"No it's cool." I put down my laptop and got up to get a paper towel. When I sat back down and handed the paper towel to him our hands touched again. That once jovial, funny and somewhat relaxed mood we had was now gone. We're exes. This isn't what exes do. We're not friends.

But shit we were . That was exactly what we were like before we started anything or knew there was something there. Even during our relationship we felt just like this at times too. Where the hell did we go? Why did I let us go?

The awkward touch we had became more intimate as I decided to gently grab his hand. The eye contact he made was confused but willing. It spoke "why haven't you done this all this time while I'm right here?" Or at least that's what I think.

Our hands interlocked letting go of the paper towel at this point. Eye contact on something serious as we ask questions to each other with them. As I began to lean down on the couch, Ony couldn't stop staring between my eyes and my lips. He eventually and quickly took the dive, trying not to lose the moment. Embers burned and flowed through the air as he began to shift from my power to his. He embarked on leaning my back onto the couch rather than his. Hands splayed in my locs and taking small breaks to breathe before going back in.

Small moans escape my mouth as he's working me. Kisses pressed on my lips were coming down my chin... then my neck as he suckled on my skin. His hands roamed my body slowly. One on the side of my stomach nearing my ass and the other beginning to feel my breast under my shirt. At this point, he's starting to get more vocal, groaning and whispering sweet nothings along my body.

"You know how much I've missed you y/n. How much I've missed this pretty face... this pretty body... and this pretty pussy" he hissed one kiss after another. "Is this all ok? If you're not fine with this of course I'll stop. Tell me what you want."

His asking for consent was always so sexy and those words... damn I missed him and this.

I looked at his lust blown eyes as he looked up to mine from my stomach as he briefly stopped from going lower and lower.

"I want you Q. I'm all yours." My composure is definitely done at this point. He's got me right now.

"Don't worry. You know I will always take care of you." He slurred, slowly sliding my bottoms and panties down and kissing my inner thighs before locking them in his arms. It's been a while since I've been in this position and I've missed it since forever ago.

Slow pecks from my thighs came closer and closer to the apex of them. He must could tell how nervous I was since his thumbs gently rubbed where they laid at to comfort me. Im in love with the way they feel on me.

"So as you can see I do have some hair ri-"

He side eyed me. "Y/n I'm a grown ass man. You know I like my peaches with some fuzz on it. Now can I have my dinner please?"

He can get so forward like this it's making me shy. I rolled my eyes and laid my head back. I never thought I'd be in this predicament.

"Good girl. Just stay just like that baby."

He nestled his lips on my bundle, wrapping them on to gently suck at a slow and smooth pace. His rhythm was gradually fastening and shortly, his lips unattached from my clit to lap at the bundle once more flicking his tongue. He remembers. He always remembers what I like.

Beginning to close my legs from the sensation, he parts me once again lapping at my cunny fervently. Like some undying need that he can't let go. As a "punishment" for me not taking it, he inserts a finger and then a second to make me break even more than I already am.

I plead and moan, "Ony, baby, I'm leaking"

I can barely control my body now. My breath getting fainter as I breathe heavy.

"Good. You know that's what I want." He keeps pumping. Squelching ensues as he becomes infatuated with his doing. "Look at that shit. All for me huh" He asks looking at my fucked out face.

I disappointedly moan when his fingers leave me but he swipes my essence from its trail and sucks his fingers while maintaining eye contact with me. I whimper and squeeze at the sight.

I guess he wanted to finish the job though. I tried to reach over to slip my hand in his boxers just for him to grab my wrist and pin both of my hands down to finish what he started.

It's always like a switch in him when he's like this. So different from the sweet Onyankopon from everyday that everyone knows. So nasty. I love it. I miss it.

He mischievously watches me. "You feel this?" I moan as he pumps his fingers back in me. I roll my eyes to the back of my head and he chuckles. "I'm gonna take that as a yes. Let me make you cum, princess."

He lowered his head down again as he continued pumping into me. Licking a stripe up my honey and continuing the mess he was creating previously. Languid strokes of his tongue were hitting me just right and my moans started turning to desperate whimpers.

Building me up for a while, he then dipped his muscle into my pussy and interchanging with his fingers, curling them with each stroke. His other hand left my thigh and his thumb began rubbing my clit. Faster and faster he went I started to find my stomach tensing and the air becoming hard to breathe.

In between heavy pants I slip out "O, stop, I'm gonna make a mess!" my eyes rolling to the back of my head and legs lifting and coming together.

He didnt stop and pinned me down pressing on my lower stomach. My moans became octaves higher and higher. He lifted his head from my cunny, "you gon take it and make a mess all over my face. Don't hold back nothing."

With that, he continued his ministrations. My grip on his hair became as tight as it could as I could feel my voice go weak. My legs began to shake as clear liquid lightly sprayed out onto his face and a white ring began to form on his fingers. My pants were beginning to rapidly slow down as I came down from my high, un loosening the death grip I had on his head.

He came back up kissing my cheek then licking my essence off his face and fingers, "Always taste so good." Proceeding to take a rag from my bedroom to clean me up and carrying me to my bed.

Before we even got the chance to speak about what happened, my eyes fell. A nap took over both of us and hours that felt like minutes rolled by.

His arm around me as we slept on our sides felt  like old times. Like something right that I just ripped away from my body. It's so comfortable.

After a dream I couldn't remember, I wake up in a daze, looking behind me to see him knocked out and his arm still around my waist.

Gently moving it off of me, I slowly get up and walk to the bathroom.

"Shit I might as well take a shower"

To be honest, none of this has settled in my head yet. My ex boyfriend who I'm clearly not over in my bedroom after being nasty on the couch is sleeping on my bed... crazy. Real fanfiction kind of shit.

Pushing the light switch up, I notice the bulb illuminate the room. Thank the Lord almighty. I put on my shower cap and get in. I feel myself let go of a breath I didn't know I had when the hot water hits my skin.

This is insane. I shouldn't be hooking up with my ex. I cut it off for a reason... I think. It's gotta be this way for the both of us so nobody gets hurt.

"Bitchhhh" I think to myself in the shower holding my head.

Leaving the bathroom with my towel on, I see my ex looking over at me from his phone, arm now holding his head up to stare me up  and down in awe.

"It's been a while since I seen this view"

I cut my eyes and stand in front of him on my bed. "Look we need to talk- " and my head turned immediately when I heard the front door of the apartment open. Thankfully, my room doors closed, but my girls walked in the apartment gossiping when they called out my name to have our daily debrief of the day.

I cuss at myself and know they probably see the cups of water, candles, and his shoes at the door as they fell silent. Whispering to themselves with words I couldn't make out,  I eventually hear a knock at my door.

I looked at Ony, mortified with a finger to my lips, then took a deep breath, opening the door so they can only see me still in my bath robe.

"Heyyy" I greeted with the awkwardest get out and don't make this weird smile I know.

"Hey mookie, we just wanted to check on you and see if you're good with the electricity going off and everything earlier." One of them said, clearly peeking inside my bedroom to see who's here, eyes widening that it was him before he could move himself. She gave me a look and I gave her one back like we telepathic or something.

"Girl yknow I'm good, just trying to finish this paper" I say hoping she takes the message that I know she's getting from me right now.

"Yeah I'm sure it's realll hard" She said acting like a real smart ass.

With a few more exchanges they go to their rooms to settle down for the night. After hearing both of their doors close I rush back to my room.

"Yeah, you gotta go" picking up his clothes and pushing them to his chest.

"But-"

"Look, I wish there was a better time to talk, but you have to go. This... is strange. We broke up. There's a reason why this ended. I know it was probably stupid of me to let you stay here during the storm, but this wasnt my intention." Pointing at the both of us.

I picked his arm up before he could get a word out to reason with me, clothes just tussled onto his body. If he sweet talks me again I really might not double back this time.

We get to the door and with the least amount of strength he has, he turns his body towards me and gently grabs my hand before I could open the door placing it back by my side.

"Y/n...why are you letting go of us... again? This still doesn't make sense and you know that."

I still. I remember this feeling... this sense of regret. But just like last time, I can't tell if it's the wrong choice or because I don't want to let go.

In truth, Ony feels... familiar. He'll always feel like a memory and I don't want to get too comfortable in his light of nostalgia. He brought such a level of solace in my life that I never wanted to replace. It was even more so after we became official....I don't want to become stagnant because of it. I have my own dreams, my own endeavors, and my own goals that I want to reach. It would be so easy to be a trophy wife to him... and he'd gladly let me. As a woman, I don't want that to be the tell all be all of my life when I know that I had a life before him. I didn't know if I could escape from it then and I definitely don't know now. That's the real reason why I keep shutting him out and probably why we broke up... but he can't know that.

"Because I know we won't end well. We're two different people Ony and this idea that you can just up and think everything is picture perfect for us has to stop now"

He looks in my eyes with such disappointment, then slight anger as his eyebrows pushed together. He opened his mouth to speak again but thought about it and decided not to, closing his eyes in the process. With a heavy huff from his chest, he looked at my eyes one last time for the night before turning away and leaving the complex.

When I shut the door, My girls came out immediately like paparazzi.

"You were over him huh?" One of them snarled at me. "It don't seem that way to me love. Maybe you shouldn't even go to the party tomorrow."

I looked down at the ground and they both took notice of my state. We all went to my bedroom and I explained everything that happened tonight. Their eyes looked at mine with frustration and awe. I held my head knowing their reaction just like they've been telling me for the past 3 months.

"You are not over that boy y/n"

"I think you're confused"

And they're right. I am. But I tell them the same thing I told them every time.

"But when he makes it to the league, what am I going to do? Wag my tail like a dog after him and have niggas tell me that I want his money or that I don't have half his talent for anything like them bitches was saying when we were together? And what if he cheats? He gon have hella girls at his disposable and I'll be feeling stupid like  "I really wasted my time on this nigga". Y'all know how much I love Ony and I was just getting over him too. This is for the best for me right now y'all know that"

They gave each other a look and got up to hug me.

"Whatever decision you choose to make girl you know we got you. Just remember to listen to your heart sometimes"

With that, we said our little goodbyes and retired for the night. Ony on my mind, I went to bed.

Waking up, he is still on my mind. Getting my laptop, I tried to continue the paper but had no will power to do so. The whole morning and afternoon felt like that... no volition and all a blur. Wasting away in my bed after the three different times my girls checked up on me throughout the day I just can't escape him. It doesn't help having the daydream engrained of what could've been present with our past. In that same thought, I hear a buzz on my phone, too in tune with the delusional reaction thinking it could be him.

I look at it to see the ticket for the party tonight that one of my girls sent. I groan and get up, finally deciding to start my day and also prepare myself for tonight.

Hype hoochie music is playing on my speaker and I hear Looking For the Hoes again. I'm thinking of how good everything was before all that happened yesterday. Do I even regret it? Am I blocking my blessings?

I can't let a man distract me from my life though. There's a life before and after him and I have to remind myself of that.

Finally finished with my look and it finally being an hour after the party started, me and my girls head out for the wild night we been planning for months.

What I didn't know was that the line would feel like 3 miles long and realizing we need our ID when we're finally 5 feet before the security. Why are parties this complicated? I don't know. But luckily we all at least have pictures of our ID and got in.

When we step foot into the party, the first thing we see is purple lights illuminating the entire venue. People are scattered everywhere and in every other corner we see the Ques barking and hopping to their stroll.

"Lawd have mercy" one of my homegirls say in love with the ques. Me and the other laugh and roll our eyes.

After some time just standing, we decided to find a small table and sit down with our small get ups. Our drinks from the pregame were starting to kick in after 10 minutes and we were laughing our ass off drunk when we hear "Girl the way you move it got me in a trance-", and that was it. All of us pulled each other to the dance floor and start to turn up. I'm throwing ass on my home girl and catching from the other.

I needed this. Seriously. I forgot how fun it is to be outside in the streets. Seconds later, we hear a scream and laugh from a girl and gasp from the crowd. One of the Ques picked up a girl and started acting like he was eating her out.

We all looked at each other with our jaws dropped. Ain't no wayyyyy. They were not lying bout it getting wild.

Right behind where I see the spotlight shining, about 30 feet away, I saw a face I didn't think I'd see at all. Just as his eyes set in on the scene before him he also saw my eyes and we made eye contact for a brief second.

I turned my body so fast that I almost knocked my home girl over. In the middle of her fussing me out she asked what happened. Naturally, I told her that Ony is at the party.

"Why is a nigga at a Que party is the real question though?"

"Girl unimportant can we please move somewhere else"

We all move to a separate section of the party venue. This can not happen. I'm drunk and I been dancing? I can not see or be around that man right now.

Before I could even get the nightmare out my head, I hear a "Y/n" near my head. I turn around mouth slightly agape to see him once again. Even finer in his put together party get up than his athlete clothes from yesterday. My mind all caught up in him just like last time I'm in a blur of what he's actually saying to me.

"Y/n, why are you here right now?" He whispers yells in my ear from the loud music blasting from the speakers.

I look to my left and right and my homegirls dashed off like the road runner... traitors.

Looking at him once again, eyes low from the drink in my system I ask, "Ony, why would it matter to you? I'm not your girl and you not my man. We single. The real question is why you're at a Que party." Remembering what my homegirl had said to bite back at him.

He fixes his face, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek looking at me clearly frustrated. Just looking at his face he can't leave me alone. Sorry that's just drunk me talking I don't know whats on his mind.

"Y/n, why the hell you been drinking so much? Don't you got a paper to finish?"

"Ony you are not my daddy get up out my face!" I yell at him. "I'm out here having fun with my girls trying to get over YOUR ASS so why can't you just mind yo business!" Oops. My eyes widened, that last part wasn't supposed to come out. Fuck.

Shit, how did he react to that?

Without time for me to look up and see his face or even hear him utter a word, he has my hand in his and leading me somewhere and fast. I'm trying to keep up but it's kind of hard to have good foot and direction coordination in a party like this and off my ass.

With all of the movement feeling like a blur, I found both of us outside of the party venue from some back door. It's slightly raining by the building and the night sky showed a bright orange street light that was our only light source.

He takes off his jacket and puts it over my shoulders to warm me. It's a bit cold. What a gentleman.

"Y/n ... what did you say?"

He stares directly in my eyes with a sense of fervency and hope. One that I can't deny now.

Part 2?

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Authors Note: Hi y'all! I haven’t written fanfic in soooo long but never stopped reading lmao. I loveeee this one so much. It’s Literally the best fic ive done period thus far. I’m trying to think if I should start writing again fr esp for my fictional anime men.

[builtbykittie]

The right side of my neck

J.t.k x f!reader PART 2

See part one here

Summary: after running into your first and probably only love at a party, his scent and the memory of his lips haunt you. Luckily, he invites you to dinner.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, alcohol consumption, SMUT, sweet/soft Jake, oral (f rec), fingering, unprotected sex(seriously do not), multiple orgasms, might be a little corny

Words: 6.4k

A/N: the long awaited part two is finally here. So sorry for the long wait! I've been so busy and so tired recently so it's hard to keep up with writing. Anyways I really hope you enjoy!! Go back and read part one if you haven't already 🫶

You kept yourself up for hours once you got home, wondering if he told his brothers, wondering if he got home safely, wondering how the party went after you'd left. You thought about his hands and his perfect pink lips. But those thoughts weren't even the main thing that kept you up, it was his cologne.

He wasn't lying when he said he's upgraded, he smelled so good. The scent was still on your dress, and you procrastinated taking it off for as long as possible. But even after taking it off, you still smelled it. It also doesn't help that Ana was pressing you for answers until she finally got too tired to keep talking and went to bed.

When you finally fell asleep, you dreamt of him. He's already haunting you.

The rough surface of Jake's fingertips drag up and down along your thighs, sending shivers up your spine as his other hand toys with your soaked panties.

You're startled awake just as it starts to get good. "Girl get up, you've been sleeping all day," Ana shakes you, and you groan as you stretch, realizing you've just woken up. "What time is it?" you mumble groggily, rubbing your eyes.

"Like one! Get up," she continues poking at you, grabbing your blanket and pulling it off your body. You huff and force yourself to sit up, your eyes still partially closed. "C'mon, you look like a damn raccoon," Ana giggles, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet.

You draw in a deep sigh once you realize you never took off your makeup and judging by how much you roll around and the number of times you've rubbed your eyes, Ana's probably right.

"uuugh," you draw out the already exaggerated sigh as you stand up, wearily making your way to the bathroom. Wiping off your makeup, you think back to last night. The way his hands moved along your body, the way his lips dragged along your neck, his warm breath on your skin. The thought gives you shivers.

You wash your face and brush your teeth, walking back out to your room, you find Ana waiting on your bed with a large smile. "You should probably get dressed," Ana grins as she holds out your phone, your notifications open and the first one is a message from none other than Jake Kiszka.

Jake: Good morning beautiful

Jake: Dinner?

Your eyes widen at the sight and you snatch your phone from Ana's hands. His use of morning is loose, considering he sent the message at about 12:10 pm. After enough thought, you start to frantically type away.

You: hey rockstar ;)

You: Tonight? What time?

"Read me what he says," you drop your phone on your bed and start to go through your closet. You toss around the clothes for a little less than eight minutes trying to find an outfit before Jake texts back. You hear a ding and whip your head in Ana's direction. "Finally!" Ana grabs your phone excitedly. "Tonight, six. He said that Danny, Josh, and Sam are coming too... oh! And to bring me," her grin grows as she reads and you watch her face light up "Oh my god it'll be like a little reunion!"

Throwing your head back in frustration, you let out an exaggerated groan at the lack of cute outfits you've found. Ana giggles at your little fit "Calm down. Show me what you have." Defeated, you hold up the white sundress you originally picked out with a frown.

"What's wrong with that?" Ana says, her head tilted to the side. You look back at the dress, realizing there's nothing bad about it, you're just picky. "Uh," you try to come up with an excuse "it's boring."

Ana just giggles "We're going for food with a few old friends, nothing fancy. It's cute, I'm sure Jake will love it." She chuckles at her statement and you roll your eyes, but as much as you'd like to say you're not dressing for him, you are. You want to impress him. You want him to lose sleep thinking about you.

"Fine," you say with a huff after enough inspection of the dress.

The day seems to go by painfully slowly. You try to do everything to distract yourself, but all your thoughts just turn into Jake. You and Ana went out to get coffee and a sandwich, but again, you just found yourself spacing off thinking of him. Each and every tick of the clock is a hammer to your sanity, driving you absolutely insane. You thought that version of you that was so hopelessly devoted to Jake Kiszka was gone, but she's thriving. She just needed a little wake-up call.

It's closing in at 5:30 now, and Ana's been watching you with a smug grin as you bounce your leg impatiently and anxiously. You know she's gonna tell Jake, and even worse, you know he's going to love the idea of you being so impatient to get your hands on him. Hell, he'll probably tease you about it even worse than Ana will.

"You think we should get going?" Ana smiles, standing up and singing her bag over her shoulder. The question is like music to your ears. "Fuck, yes, finally," you groan as you stand up, grabbing your own bag. "Geez, I've never seen you so eager," she giggles. You roll your eyes as you quickly check your reflection "Whatever."

On the drive there, your chest fills with excitement and anticipation its almost too much to handle. The feeling shoots through every vein in your body and numbs your limbs. "I never thought I'd see you so giddy over Jake Kiszka again. It's kinda cute," Ana smiles, pulling into the parking lot of what's supposed to be one of Jake's favorite restaurants.

"yeah, imagine how I feel. I didn't think he'd have this much of an effect on me after so long. I feel like I'm in high school again," you run your hands through your hair and pull yourself together before walking into that restaurant and facing him.

The two of you get to the hostess stand and quickly find that the boys aren't on time, as always. It's a habit they've had for as long as you can remember. "All these years and yet they still don't know how to be on time," Ana jests as you're being escorted to the table.

"You know," Ana leans in, her voice hushed "I've only ever seen you act this way over Jake." A deep pink blush instantly finds its way onto your cheeks and a small smile tugs at your cheeks. God, what is happening? He's making you feel like a little girl again and you're not too thrilled to know that you'd do anything for him at the snap of a finger.

"speaking of the devil," you say, and raise a finger to the four bodies striding through the restaurant. The first is Jake, followed by Josh, then Sam and Danny. Ana's head whips over in their direction and you both stand up with large smiles plastered across your faces.

"Hey! Who are these beautiful ladies?!" Josh smiles and grabs your and Ana's wrists, pulling you over to the others. Sam and Danny instantly pull you two in for a hug, and you all exchange compliments before sitting down. Jake appears behind you, his hand on your lower back as he holds his other hand out in the direction of the booth "After you, love." his sends a shiver down your spine and your cheeks become at least two shades darker. "Why thank you, Jacob," you grin and find your spot in the booth.

"You two seem comfy," Sam says with a stupid little smirk. "Don't they?! Hey, you guys should ask what they were up to in the bathroom last night," Ana giggles, already stirring the pot. You send her a look that could kill, but she just shrugs, mouthing 'sorry' with a smile.

"It's about damn time," Daniel joins in, and at this point, it's becoming a competition on who can get the dirtiest looks from you. "We weren't doing anything! I drank a little too much and he couldn't just let me throw up all by myself," You whine, facing Jake and giving him that 'back me up here' look. He chuckles, his hand finding your thigh and he tries to explain further, but you both know they can see right through you.

Everyone looks so incredible. Danny seemed to have figured out his curl pattern which does absolute wonders and he's incredibly confident, Sam has fully grown up, and Josh is truly his authentic self. But despite all the changes, you're so happy to know that they're still the boys you knew growing up.

Sam starts talking to you and Ana about touring and much as you'd love to pay attention, you stop listening when Jake's hand creeps up underneath the skirt of your dress. Your body temperature rises and his thumb starts caressing the supple, warm skin of your thigh.

Just then, Jake leans into your ear, his hot breath against the side of your face sending shivers up your spine. "I hope you weren't planning on coming home tonight," he whispers, his hand moving higher and his grip tightening. Your eyes slightly widen and your breath picks up, a smile finding its way to your lips as you look back at him "I wasn't."

Jake's hand never leaves its spot on your thigh, staying there for the entirety of dinner. He never dared move it higher or lower since then, but every now and then he'd draw circles into your skin. It's incredibly hard to focus on anything and you try your best to keep your composure, but Jake was doing this on purpose and he was enjoying it.

The bill is paid and everyone stands from the table, at this point, you're running out of patience. All you want is to be alone with Jake. All you want is to feel his face under your fingertips and kiss his soft pink lips again. As much as you love the others, you couldn't wait to get out of here.

Everyone walks out of the building, stopping right before the parking lot and talking for a little while longer. You all exchange numbers before hugging and saying goodbyes, swearing to see each other again soon.

As the others get in their cars and start driving off, you grab Ana and pull her to the side. "Ana you can not tell anyone... but I think I'm gonna go with Jake," you say in a hushed voice, and watch as her face lights up. "Oh my god! Okay uhh... Have fun and I'll see you tomorrow?" She says excitedly, holding her arms out for a hug. You giddily accept the hug with a large grin "Yeah, tomorrow. Love you!"

"Love you too!" Ana says before running off to her car. You instantly turn to Jake, who has a large smile on his face "Ready?"

"More than ever," you grin and take his lips in a quick kiss. His hands find your waist and he kisses you some more before forcing himself away from you and leading you to his car. God knows how long you two would've stood there for if Jake hadn't pulled away.

"You miss me?" Jake smirks as he opens your door, rounding the car and getting in the driver's seat. "Are you kidding? I dreamt of you. What the fuck have you done to me, Jacob? It's only been one night," You giggle, throwing your head back against the seat. You don't know how you ever survived without him, and you know damn well you'll never be able to stay away from him after tonight.

"I missed you too," he smirks, his hand returning to your thigh and squeezing it. As his hand kneads the meat of your thigh, your mind starts to wander, and you take notice of the arousal soaking through your panties. You shift uncomfortably, but it doesn't help, and Jake certainly notices this because you can hear him snicker after you let out a huff of annoyance. "Almost there," he says, the rasp in his voice driving you crazy.

You shoot up once you realize he's pulling into the driveway. A nice house and a nice car, would you expect any less from him? He puts the car in park and doesn't wait a second to hop out and open your door. On the outside, he looks nonchalant and composed, but you can tell he's just as restless as you are.

He takes your hand in his and grabs your waist with the other, helping you down from the seat and not letting go as he walks you up to his house. The interior is the best part. Perfectly cozy and perfectly Jake. "Wine?" He asks "It's the good stuff." You nod and hum, a glass of wine sounds incredible right now.

You settle down on the couch as he rushes off to the kitchen. He's back in the living room within less than a couple of minutes, two glasses of red wine carefully held in one hand and the bottle in his other. He hands you your glass and sets his - along with the bottle - down on the coffee table before walking over to a record player, skimming through the countless records until he finds one that makes him say 'ahh' and when the sound flows from the speakers, you know why.

"Oh my god," you laugh, nearly choking on your wine. It's the album you asked to listen to every time you were over. It was yours and Jake's album. He chuckles, walking back over to you and grabbing his glass "You know. I played this record almost every night when you left. Everyone was so sick of it."

"I can't believe you still have it," you smile, fully turning your body to face him. You remember the last time the two of you ever listened to it together. It was the morning you left. You had everything packed so your parents let you go over to the Kiszka's for your last night in Michigan. That morning the two of you listened to it over and over again as you sobbed.

"you don't know the lengths I went to to protect that fucking thing," Jake chuckles, and you both laugh. Then, you watch as his plush lips close around the wine glass, just as you did last night. His lips are addicting. The way they move when he talks, how soft they are, the perfect pink tint.

The room goes quiet except for the music, and you can't hold it back any longer. "Jake," you practically whisper, feeling your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. "Hm?" He hums, throwing back his glass. "Was I ever.. more than just your best friend to you?" You shy from him, embarrassed at the question.

He pauses for a moment, a fond smile pulling on the corners of his mouth. "Y/N, you were never just my best friend to me," he admits, his pretty brown eyes staring deeply into yours. After a moment of the two of you just staring at each other, you finally manage to mutter out a quiet "what?"

He chuckles slightly "It's always been you. I mean, I don't think I realized it back then but... I was so in love with you." Your eyes blow wide, he's rendered you completely speechless. Adrenaline rushes through your veins and the pace of your heart speeds up so fast you're afraid it might stop.

"Are- are you serious?" You mutter with a shaky voice. Jake just nods, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink, "I think that's why none of my relationships ever lasted. Every girl I've ever dated.. they just weren't you. Nobody ever came close to you."

Once again, silence falls over the room and you pour some more wine into your glass. You can hear your heartbeat in your ear, the thumping growing louder and louder with each word he utters.

"When I did have girlfriends I tried and tried to get you out of my head but you never left. But we were young and dumb and I couldn't figure out my feelings, y'know?" His words drove the breath from your lungs. You feel his eyes burning into you, but you can't look up. Your head is down and tears threaten to drip past your waterline and down your hot cheeks. All those emotions from all those years ago suddenly rush over you and it's painfully overwhelming.

"Y/N?" He says softly in a concerned tone, reaching out to cup your cheek. You squeeze your eyes closed, forcing the tears to drip down your hot cheeks. You shake your head, still looking down at your lap, "I- I'm fine it's just..." You find yourself unable to finish your sentence.

He practically forces you to look back up at him, his hand guiding you to face him. "Jake..." You whisper, so quiet you wonder if he even heard "I used every wish on you."

His face flashes with a surprised yet intrigued look for a fleeting second before it is replaced with furrowed brows and a nod. "Every birthday, every 11:11, every shooting star. I only wished you be yours," your eyes study his face as a soft smile forms on his lips, trying to figure out his reaction and suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed.

"I'm here now, Y/N," Jake says softly, wiping away a tear from your burning cheeks. You sniff and take a sip of your wine, tapping the glass with your fingers anxiously. Suddenly, Jake leans in and takes your lips in a soft, tender kiss.

Almost instantly, you melt into his lips, the hand not holding your glass coming up to the back of his neck. Your heart flutters in your chest at the feeling of his lips, and you can't stop the soft moan that escapes your throat. It doesn't take long for the kisses to get needy and lustful, Jake's hand moving from your face down to your thighs and his fingers creeping up under your dress.

His hands slowly move further up the skirt of your dress, leaving a trail of heat where his hands were. He gently pushes you backward with his body, mirroring the way his hands slowly move. As you're blindly falling back, you suddenly feel something cold in your stomach. You brush it off at first until it starts to spread.

You break the kiss, your eyes widening when you realize the wine glass is still in your hand, but the contents are all over your white dress "shit!" You frantically place the glass on the coffee table and scurry off the couch, not wanting to stain it.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry," you start to panic, apologies spewing from your mouth as you look down at your stained dress. "Hey hey hey, woah. It's not your fault, it's fine," Jake reassures you before rushing off to get a cloth.

Luckily, you got up before the wine hit his couch. Jake comes back into the room and makes a pointless attempt at trying to dry your dress with the cloth. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. God, I'm so sorry, Y/N," he puts his palm on his forehead in defeat.

"It- it's fine I didn't even like this dress that much," you giggle, looking down at the damage from the wine. Truthfully, you did like it, but you could always get a new one. "Are you sure?" Jake asks, his tone laced with genuine concern "I- I can buy you a new one."

You giggle, enjoying how cute he is like this. You put your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them with your thumbs "It's fine, Jake, really." He grins at you, his hands coming up to your waist as he takes a step forward, your bodies now touching. Your hands move to his hair and your own smile widens before he kisses you once again.

You lean into it and hum against his lips, feeling him smile against the kiss. You're enjoying it at first, but the longer you stay there in an alcohol-soaked dress, the more uncomfortable you start to get. Eventually, you have to force yourself to pull back. "I need to get out of this.." you giggle, grabbing the skirt of it as you look down.

He lets out a low chuckle as he follows your eyes down to it, taking in the way the alcohol made the dress cling to your body, showcasing the curvature of your waist. Your eyes flick up to his at the exact same time his flick up to yours, and the two of you stand there for a moment.

Jake takes the hem of it in his hands, bunching it up. "May I?" He asks, his voice low and raspy, sending a paralyzing shiver down your spine. A smirk pulls on the corner of your mouth and you slowly lift your arms, silently giving your consent.

You have to bite back the whine that threatens to escape your lips at the feeling of his hands dragging up your body as he pulls your dress up. You let out a soft sigh once he passes your panties, watching as his eyes move up along with your now-red dress.

He slows down to a stop before he gets to your breasts, coming down to kiss your neck. You let out a breath at the contact and feel your hard nipples against the cold, wet fabric. "Jake, please.." you whisper, desperate to get it off of you.

Jake hums against your neck, followed by a low chuckle at the sound of your plea. His kisses travel down your neck and to your collarbones as his hands start to knead your breasts through the fabric, his touch burning on your skin. You tug gently on his hair, letting out a whiny breath.

He continues to tease you for just a little longer, pressing his body gently against yours so that you can feel his hard cock through his pants. You moan softly at the feeling and pull harder at his hair, throwing your head back. He peppers a few more kisses to the base of your neck and collarbones before pulling back and continuing to rid you of the wet fabric.

He groans softly, seeing you so exposed and vulnerable like this feels so wrong yet so incredibly right. He pulls your dress over your head and drops the fabric to the ground, his hands instantly returning to cup and knead your breasts. "So," kiss "fucking," kiss "beautiful," kiss.

Unfortunately, you're unable to stop the desperate, needy moan that flies past your lips once he starts to roll your nipple between his fingers.

"Jake..." you softly moan, squeezing your eyes shut as he starts to suck the skin around your breasts into his mouth. "Jake, please.." you whine, though you're not sure what you're pleading for, trying desperately to hold back whimpers and moans out of embarrassment.

"hmm?" Jake hums against your chest, his lips dragging across your burning skin. It feels like he's leaving a trail of fire behind with his lips and you're loving every second of it. Jake's lips are like a drug, the feeling of them on your body giving you a high that you may be chasing for the rest of your life.

"I need you," you whisper defeatedly as you hold onto his hair for dear life. As if you'd float away if you let go. He hums again against you before he comes up and kisses you again. This time with more fervor. More need. More hunger.

His hands start to wander down your body and he breaks the kiss, shivers running up your spine at the feel of his warm breath against your neck when he peppers kisses to the area. He finds that soft spot behind your ear and sucks the flesh into his mouth, marking you, making you his after not being able to have you for so long.

You draw in a loud gasp at the action and feel yourself getting weak in the knees. His hands wrap around your waist gently and he pulls you impossibly close to him. You whimper as you feel him against your thigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Without breaking contact with your neck, his hands find the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you as he did last night.

You let out a quiet giggle and grasp harder onto him once he starts to blindly carry you off to his room. He moves so that he's supporting your ass with one arm and opens the door, his lips never breaking away from your hot skin as he reaches behind him and closes it.

Jake lays you down softly on the bed, his lips exploring the surface of your neck and chest. Letting out a whiny breath, you dig your fingers into his hair, his lips moving further down your body with each kiss.

His lips leave a trail of sparks wherever they go, dragging down your torso until he eventually reaches your navel. You support yourself on your elbows to look at him, it's a view that makes you take your bottom lip between your teeth and you feel your arousal pool up at your core.

A shiver creeps its way up your spine at the feel of his calloused hands on your skin, dragging slowly along every inch of your torso down to where your thighs meet your hips. Your shaky hands gently stroke his soft brown hair, your brows furrowing upwards as he gets closer and closer to where you so desperately need him.

His kisses continue to move downwards until they stop just above the hem of your panties and he smiles up at you. You can't help but giggle softly, the soft flush of your cheeks deepening in color. "Jake..." You muse as his fingers start to dance along the soft white lace of your panties.

"God, you're perfect," he coos between kisses, slowly starting to pull the fabric down your soft skin. "My pretty girl, you wore these for me?" He asks softly, his warm breath fanning over your hot flesh and goosebumps cover your body. His hands move down to ghost over your core, placing a featherlight touch to your heat through your panties.

You let out a shaky sigh and nod, your cheeks somehow turning even more red and your grip on his tightening. Jake hums and puts more pressure on your aching heat, drawing a hot line of wet kisses along the hem of your panties and then down to your clit.

You suck in a loud gasp once you feel his tongue press against you, lapping at your clit through the lace of your panties "Oh.." He doesn't break eye contact, continuing his sweet torture to your aching core. "Jake... Please.." you whine, gently tugging on his hair as you buck your hips against his mouth.

Jake chuckles softly against you and his kisses start to move back upwards, sucking the flesh of your hip into his mouth as his hands slowly pull your panties down. He slides the lace down your legs at a painfully slow pace, drawing a line of kisses down your thigh. You feel the pounding at your center grow worse and worse the further down he moves, your arousal starting to drip past your entrance.

Eventually, he slides your panties off your feet and drops them to the floor beside his bed, instantly returning to his spot at your core. You watch his eyes darken at the sight of your glistening heat, his fingers coming up to drag themselves through your folds. "So pretty," he practically whispers, his voice as sweet as honey and he places a soft peck on your clit "So wet for me."

"Only you, Jake," you giggle, cupping his hot cheek. The fond, content look on your face is quickly replaced with what can only be described as euphoria once he slowly slides two fingers inside of you without warning. "Jake.." you whimper as his tongue slowly slides through your folds, matching the almost uncomfortably slow way his fingers slid into you just moments before.

Jake's fingers start to slowly pump in and out of your entrance and his lips latch around your clit, causing you to throw your head back with a moan that almost sounds like his name. You practically hiss as his fingers curl up into you, hitting a sweet spot "Oh fuck-"

His tongue prods at your clit, rolling over the sensitive bud and making you cry out his name. His free hand reaches up to cup your breasts, kneading the supple flesh behind his rough hands as he continues his attack on your cunt. You can almost feel his smile against your core as he revels in the sounds of your moans and the feeling of you squirming and writhing against him.

"don't stop, baby, please," you blurt with a choked whimper, your hips trembling and bucking against him and you feel yourself already getting close to the edge. He chuckles against your clit, the vibration of it sending shock waves throughout your body, and his fingers speed up. You mewl as his fingers move quicker in and out of you, curling up as they go deeper and hitting a soft spot every. time.

The sensation of his tongue flicking over your clit, his fingers pumping inside you, and his hand toying with your breast drives you absolutely mad. Your back arches off the bed, crying out his name and incoherent profanities as you feel a pressure rising in your stomach. "Jake I'm gonna- oh God," you moan, the words and the way you said them were almost pornographic, and he ate it all up, loving the way he could make you feel like this so easily.

His lips break away from your clit, but his fingers don't slow down as he looks up at you with a look of pure sweetness and love. "Cum for me, sweetheart," he coos, his tongue almost instantly returning to your swollen clit. With a few more curls of his fingers and swirls of his tongue around your clit, that band of pleasure snaps.

His fingers slow down and his soft words coax you through your orgasm, but your senses are far too blinded by the sublime pleasure of your high that you can't hear him. You can't hear or feel anything, really. Anything other than overwhelming euphoria.

"there you go, baby," Jake purrs, placing pecks to your clit as he slowly pulls his fingers from you. You huff a giggle and collapse onto the bed, your chest heaving and your thighs trembling. "Fuck.. where'd you learn to do that?" You huff a breathless laugh, trying to catch your breath. "Guitar fingers," he snickers.

You giggle as Jake slowly climbs over you, holding his fingers to your lips. You don't have to fight it or question it, simply parting your lips and sucking his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact.

Jake comes down to kiss you, tasting you on your tongue as you grant him access. You hum into his mouth, that pounding at your core returning when you feel his hard cock against your thigh. "Jake.." you whisper between kisses. "Need to..." Your hand moves from his hair to the waistband of his trousers "Need to feel you..."

He lets out a low chuckle, his lips traveling down to your neck. His hands meet yours at his waistband, unbuckling his belt and practically throwing it across the room. He props himself up with one hand and the other comes down to caress the soft skin of your hip, letting your frantic hands fumble the button and zipper of his pants for a moment before they finally get them undone.

You push both his pants and his boxers down just enough to free his cock from the jail cell that was the fabric. You almost instantly take him in your hand, letting out an almost inaudible "oh" as you feel his thickness and length in your hand.

Jake lets out a low groan and his hand moves from your hip to your cunt, putting soft pressure on your clit. You gasp and move his cock to line up with your slick entrance, your free arm coming up to sling itself around your shoulder. "Jake..." You whine, looking up at him with the best 'fuck me' eyes you can muster up and moving your hand from his cock to frantically unbutton his shirt, making quick work of ridding him of the fabric.

He smirks, and you can't bite back the moan that escapes your throat as his tip prods at your entrance. He takes your lips in a hot kiss before slowly sinking into you, stretching you out and filling you up so perfectly, he feels as if he was made just for you. Only you.

"Fuck," Jake groans, bottoming out inside you. His hand grasps your thigh and his other presses harder against your clit, sending a shock throughout your entire body. He stays like that for a moment before pulling almost fully out of you, coming back down to hit a soft spot deep inside of you. "Oh my god," you moan, grabbing the sheet harder and tightening your hold around his shoulders.

His hand at your thigh moves to prop himself up before coming down to rest his forehead on yours, setting a sweet, intoxicating pace as his fingers start to rub slow circles onto your clit. Jake groans your name as his hips start to roll into you, your eyes rolling back into your head and pornographic moans rip through your chest at the feeling.

His hips start to speed up slightly, staring into your eyes as he rubs quicker, tighter circles to your clit and sends waves of pleasure through your body. "Oh god- Jake," you cry, digging your fingers into his back as he hits a new sweet spot with every single thrust.

"yeah, that's it, baby. Just feel it," he purrs, taking your lips in a kiss. You're being completely and utterly consumed by him, he's drinking up every bit of your being. Your words, your breaths, your moans. They all belong to Jake.

His name falls from your lips over and over with breathless moans, feeling every inch of him fuck you so sweetly yet so sinfully. "You're doing so good, sweetheart, so good. Fuck. Just take it, baby," Jake coos, and you feel his hips falter. You know he's close, and you're definitely not lasting any longer than him.

"oh fuck, Jake!" You mewl as his fingers press harder against your aching, sensitive clit and his hips roll so sweetly into each and every soft spot buried deep within you. Your walls quiver around him and your vision starts to give out, your moans growing louder and louder until you're all but shouting his name over and over like some kind of dirty prayer.

His cock twitches inside you and he's struggling more and more to contain his whimpers and groans. "You gonna cum with me, love?" He rasps, fucking deeper into you as his fingers speed up against your swollen bundle of nerves.

You nod frantically, feeling your orgasm creep up on you as you clench and quiver around him "Oh fuck- please..." His face comes down to bury into your neck sucking the hot, sweaty skin into his mouth and groaning against the skin. Your entire body is trembling, bucking your hips against him and fucking yourself onto him.

"Give it to me, baby. That's it, fuck. Oh god- cum with me," he rasps, his thrusts becoming more and more sporadic and faltered until he paints your insides with one final movement. The feeling of his hot release inside of you is the tipping point, crying out as your orgasm washes over you like the wild waves of an ocean crashing against the shore.

Neither his thrusts nor his fingers stop or slow down, overwhelming every one of your senses and sending shocks of electricity throughout each and every limb. "Oh fuck- Jake!" You moan, your fingers digging so hard into his back you're sure that you broke the skin. "Fuck- I can't... Can't stop," Jake groans, his words causing your eyes to roll all the way back into your head "God- you feel so fucking good."

Tears prick your eyes and your entire body trembles and shutters at the overstimulation, your entire body on fire. It's almost painful, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you practically scream strings of inaudible profanities and cries.

But it doesn't take long for the overstimulation to subside, replacing itself with overwhelming pleasure. "Fuck Jake I'm gonna-" you sob, grinding against his hand and fucking harder onto him. "Just feel it, sweet girl. Let go, baby," he rasps, his sweet movements driving you right to the edge for the third time. No man has ever made you feel this way, it's addictive.

Once again, your pleasure robs you of all your senses and feelings, white-hot fire spreading throughout your entire body like a forest in the summer. Jake's own orgasm rips through him just moments after you, the sinful feeling of his hot release spurting into you yet again driving you absolutely, devastatingly insane.

"oh my god," you whimper breathlessly, your entire body shaking. "So good," he whispers, his thrusts slowing to a stop "So.. fucking.. good." You start to giggle, your breaths coming in gasps as you try to reclaim the air stolen from your lungs "I didn't even know I could..."

He chuckles before moving your damp hair away from your face, a cocky smile playing on his gorgeous features "Yeah, well.. you've never had the pleasure of a night with Jake Kiszka before." You giggle, taking his lips in a tender kiss, "Yeah and who's fault is that?"

He snickers "you got me."

You suck in a hiss as he pulls out, and your arms move to wrap around his body, pulling him down onto the bed beside you. "I love you," you whisper against the hot, sweaty flesh of his neck.

"I love you, Y/N," Jake whispers, wrapping his arms around your body.

[sunnys-out]

I've loved you for so long (1) | Lucy Bronze

A/N: Hello! I haven't written in so long but here is something that I have been working on since the WC (she's a short one I know). I didn't post it earlier because I was moving and starting a new job but everything has calmed down and I had time to edit it. Please let me know what y'all think and hopefully, I can post the 2nd part soon! If you like my writing maybe through in a suggestion and I'll try my best! :D

Content: Angst, Fluff if you squint

{Word Count: 2004}

______________________________________________________________

I've loved you for so long

Oh, I'd forgotten how it feels

Feelings come back strong

'I've Loved You For So Long - The Aces'

Lucy and I had met, informally, in 2015 in Canada, we never played against each other in that World Cup but that didn’t stop us from bumping into each other at Tim Hortons. The couple of times that we ran into each other at the World Cup caused small conversations and laughs that left me wanting more. God, even just her smile left me wanting. 

I didn’t message her throughout our respective seasons right after the World Cup but sometimes I’d click on her Instagram profile and just scroll and see her thrive in Manchester City. Well I did drum up the courage to message once.

‘It’d probably be weird if I messaged her out of the blue right?... I mean it has been weeks  since Canada?’ I told myself as I lay on my small apartment couch in Portland.  

My thumb hovered over the send button with a slight tremble.

“Fuck it” My thumb harshly hit the screen and the quick ‘Wanted to say that you had an amazing tournament. Shame we never played against each other ♥️That goal against Canada was a banger meant to send that in Canada lol!”  message was delivered.

 I swear I threw my phone onto the other side of my couch and took a shower not expecting to see two notifications sent five minutes after me.

‘Lucy Bronze liked your message’

‘Lucy Bronze: ‘means a lot. Hope to see you again soon, miss world champion ⭐️⭐️⭐️’

I didn’t notice the smile growing as I looked at the notifications on the screen. I probably read it 20 times, setting the phone down on my coffee table and pacing the room debating whether I should respond or what I even should respond with. 

“Lucy is funny, maybe I can joke about how it’s been long or maybe just a ‘feeling is mutual’” I said aloud to myself.

‘Why am I getting worked up about this?” My hair is now messy by how many times I redid my ponytail pacing the room for 13 minutes. I kept procrastinating and just settled with getting ready for bed.

‘I’ll just respond tomorrow,’ I said, confidently,  plugging in my phone and placing it on my nightstand. That sentiment lasted about 2 minutes before I walked quickly back into my room picking up my phone, opening the message, and liking Lucy’s before responding. 

Y/N: I would love to see you again! I hope it's somewhere other than Tim Hortons even though I loved that place lol 🙂

My phone immediately locked as I got into bed and turned away from my phone. I closed my eyes tightly trying to go to sleep quickly so that in the rare probability that Lucy would continue the conversation, I could deal with it tomorrow morning, maybe ask Klingenburg for advice. Though she might scold me for fraternizing with the enemy, jokingly of course. Defenders knew other defenders right? Kling would find it funny that a right winger is flirting with a right back.

My thoughts were interrupted by one vibration and then two more in succession. My body slowly turned over to see my phone lit up still and then slowly dimming. My hand, subconsciously, went over, picked up my phone, and opened the messages seeing Lucy liking my message.

Lucy: Let me buy you a cup whenever you’re in Manchester; there are some cafes you’d like here.

Lucy: I would love to show you around 🙂 

I smiled at the messages and immediately replied without a second thought

Y/N: I will let you know because I do need a vacation 🥲

Y/N: And I would love to give you a tour of Portland, the coffee capital of the world. Worth it.

I stared at the messages until I saw a little heart appear on my last message. The little dots of a message incoming made me nervously tap the side of my phone. 

Lucy Bronze: I’ll take that as a promise 😉

Y/N: And I expect that cup of coffee in Manchester is a promise too ☺️

Lucy would only like the message and I would promptly go to sleep after waiting 15 minutes for a message that never came. I tried my best to not think about it but the feeling that came from reading her messages and the smile that would creep onto my face…I wouldn’t forget. 

Hayley Raso came into my life slowly after that. Glances turned to long stares. The lingering touches throughout practice became more than a pat on the back for a job well done. The smiles and laughs echoed off the walls of Providence Park as we walked to our cars until it was just to my car.

The weekly movie nights at my place turned into watching a show and cuddling together after practice for days on end. Another toothbrush appeared in the bathroom and suddenly my queen-sized bed wasn’t as empty. 

Mornings were met with a quick kiss, a hug from behind, and sweet nothings whispered in each other's ear.

Going to practice wasn’t done alone anymore and it was nice to have someone waiting on you if you had to stay behind to see the physio.

It was easy since we were both playing for Portland at the time and the team weren’t surprised when we told them.

 Little by little the Australian would appear in my Instagram photos and I in hers. 

The one that “broke the internet” was Hayley’s post of her kissing me on the cheek at the end of a game when the USWNT and Australia had a friendly. The one that sealed the deal for everyone was my Christmas post of photos of the party I had at my apartment. One, a particular one at the end, Hayley was in my lap while I kissed her. 

Something, however, nagged at me every time I saw a certain person's name pop up “Lucy Bronze liked your post” but I ignored it. I now know it was the feeling of the “what if” and “what could have been”. 

‘Did Lucy not want this with me? Maybe that’s why she never followed up. I probably said something to scare her away. Hayley didn’t run away’ I remember thinking to myself and as if on cue two arms snake their way around my waist. 

“Everything alright babe?” Hayley said into my back, I, immediately, felt my shoulders relax at the sound of Hayley’s voice.

I whispered, “I'm alright, just read some rude comments. You know how some people get”. I lied to Hayley; I was happy in our relationship and shouldn’t be wondering about the “what could have been” with someone that wasn’t her.  

Hayley would then go on to say that she’s told me to never look at the comments because when have the mean ones ever done something for us? She’d led me back to the bedroom to get ready for bed as we had an early practice but not after she promised to take my mind off the “negative comments”...it worked. 

______________________________________________________________

She Believes Cup March 6th, 2016, 

Lucy Bronze’s POV

We hadn’t played the United States in Canada which is a shame to not be able to play the future World Champions. Once, we had heard that we would be playing them in the She Believes Cup. I was excited for multiple reasons.

The US call up was released and I would be playing against (y/n). Since the World Cup, (Y/N) was making a name for herself as a strong right winger and playmaker for Portland and the National team.

On the pitch, she seemed cold and intimidating, but I met her as the complete opposite. 

I was able to just watch her tap her lip with her finger with her US cap on backward as she decided which pastry she wanted with her coffee at that Tim Hortons. She whistled quietly as she waited her turn and then adorably, fumbled through her order. Then humming to herself happily as she waited on the side with her warm croissant covered by a napkin.  

I was in awe of her. I had seen her play before and was always impressed by what I’d seen but never played against her. 

As I went up to order my own coffee and pastry I noticed her scrolling through her phone, laughing to herself. (y/n’s) eyes crinkle when she laughs or smiles really big. She hadn’t noticed me when I stood next to her, also waiting for my drink, there I took notice that she was at least three inches above me and that she sticks out her tongue when she is reading something. 

I breathed in and said loud enough for her to hear as she read, “I won’t tell your trainer if you don’t tell mine” I shook my little bag containing the coffee cake I had just ordered. I chuckled at the little jump she gave when she noticed me.

“Shit, sorry you scared me” a nervous laugh leaving her mouth

I extended my hand, “Sorry bout that. I’m Lucy, Lucy Bronze with England”  

She completed the handshake, “(y/n) (l/n) with the US…obviously” She pointed to her hat that had USA stitched on the back.

The conversation had good enough banter that we both remained at a table for about 2 hours talking about life and football. I could tell you that I fell for the way she looked at me with her gentle (y/e/c) eyes as she described the antics of her new golden retriever puppy named Chili she had adopted when she went to Portland.

I never really was intimidated or made nervous by any American player, especially on the pitch but watching her warm up with an icy cold expression during the She Believes Cup match made me question if the person I met at Tim Horton’s was the same person. 

I don’t think I was nervous but I lost count of how many times I would try to get a glimpse of her as she warmed up. Every time I did I’d feel the blush on my cheeks as I remembered the short text conversation that we had shortly after the World Cup. 

I regretted so much for not following up immediately; I got scared. If (y/n) asked me today why I didn’t respond, I wouldn’t have known what to say to be honest. Lack of courage was what Jill had told me as Jordan patted my back while reading the messages.  

The moment that I finally gained the courage to message (y/n) on Instagram to invite her to Manchester for a visit, was the day when I saw the picture of Hayley Raso kissing her cheek at a friendly. It was the first thing I saw when I opened the app to message her.

I remember my stomach dropping like the feeling when you don’t feel the bottom of a pool. 

I had it all planned in my head that she’d accept and I had a mini itinerary in my head of things she would’ve enjoyed and sightseeing spots. But the photo of her with her face buried in Hayley’s neck as she hugged her made the feeling worse.

Raso had beat me to (y/n) and she didn’t even know it. I kicked myself for not being brave. I would’ve had her in my arms sooner. I tell her all the time that I fell for her immediately and from meeting her I wanted more of her every passing day. 

Just seeing her across the field filled me with the tucked away feelings I had for her. I remember thinking…What I would have given to be there again talking about the most mundane things over coffee. Hearing her try her hardest to tell a joke but failing as she laughs remembering the punch line or even unconsciously speaking with an English accent when we spoke… God, I really loved her for so long.

[brummiereader]

No Son Of Mine (One Shot)

Summary: Justice had finally been served in the wake of John's death. But with all acts of violence comes consequences, one Tommy must face when his trusted friend Johnny dogs stumbles upon the now orphaned baby of the traitor and his wife he and Arthur had both murdered in cold blood all in the name or revenge. With no child of their own and Graces refusal to send him to the orphanage, Tommy begrudgingly takes the child into his care. Will Tommy ever show young Oliver the love of a father he deserves? Or will he continue to see him as nothing but a burden the heavens had cruelly punished him with?

Warnings: Language, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, angst, fluff

Authors note: A lovely reader of mine popped into my messages and kindly asked me if I could write this story for them. I'm sorry for the long delay hun, I can only blame my procrastinating brain for my tardiness. Anyway, I hope i did your prompt justice. Enjoy!

"Right, we done?" Tommy said raising a brow as he wiped the blood that had splattered onto to his crisp white evening shirt looking to his brother Arthur nodding his head in response, his chest heaving up and down as he brushed his bloody hands through his hair, both having been sidetracked from the nights festivities.

" Fucking scum" Arthur sniffed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave one last kick to the lifeless body at his feet. A cascade of events since John's death had led up to this very day, and Tommy and Arthur both simultaneously agreed without the need of words that justice had finally been served. Luca Changretta had been dead for almost a fortnight, the vendetta was over for all but the two surviving older brothers. That was until tonight when both Arthur and Tommy were unexpectedly called away to the news that Johnny dogs had found exactly who they'd been looking for. The traitor, the informer, the bastard that had given John's address to the Italians. A Peaky Blinder, one of their very own men.

" What about her?" Arthur spat a splutter of saliva laced with blood to the ground, the result of one lucky punch from the chancer that had tried his luck with the towering gangster. He'd put up a decent fight, one Arthur enjoyed watching before his patience grew thin and he pummeled his fist into him, each snap and break of his bloody face crumbling into something unrecognizable before being shot point-blank in the head. No one wanting or willing to hold him back. Not even Tommy. No forgiveness was given that dark night, only the sweet mercy met at the end of the barrel of a gun.

" Collateral" Tommy replied as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips not giving the nights events one ounce of remorse. This was for John after all.

" Collateral?" Arthur sniffed feeling a pang of guilt hit his stomach. Women and children were not to be harmed, an unspoken agreement before time in all dealings in war between men.

" Yes Arthur, fucking collateral alright?" Tommy snapped as he marched over to his brother whose eyes hadn't left those of the lifeless woman laid on the muddied ground below him " She ran into the line of fire brother. She all but killed herself" Tommy finished growing impatient with Arthur's weighing guilt. The last thing he needed was his number one soldier to be hit with a moral compass.

" Lads, we've got ourselves a wee problem" Johnny rushed over breathless as he loosened the neckerchief from the vein pumping angrily on the side of his neck. Fuck sake, Tommy thought to himself as he threw his cigarette to the ground. Things could never go smoothly, as smoothly as murder could go that was.

" What kinda problem?" Tommy replied as he and Arthur followed him into the small bedsit from the courtyard that two dead bodies had yet to be disposed of. The commotion resulting in the curiosity and twitching of the neighbours curtains, not one of them daring to or even contemplating in the slightest to inform any person of authority. Who would they go to? The police? The mere thought was laughable.

"Just a small one" Johnny replied taking two steps at a time up the rickety wooden stairs elaborating no further on what exactly had thrown a spanner into the works.

"A small problem Johnny eh? That's a big fucking problem!" Tommy ranted shaking his head as the three men entered the flat met with the sound of a newborn baby wailing in his woven bassinet, his bottom lip wobbling with each cry that furiously left his little lungs.

"Well he's small ain't he?" Johnny replied as he tilted his head looking down at the baby boy bundled in a white knitted blanket. You'd think with the the small army of children Johnny had fathered he'd be in his element. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Johnny was a natural with children, but a natural with children that had been weened, potty trained, and able enough to drive a four wheeled vehicle and shoe a horse. In basic terms, teenagers. But nonetheless wee babbies in his eyes. Newborns were all but a loud messy mystery to him.

" Jesus fucking Christ..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as his mind frantically tried to come up with a solution as to what in the hell he was going to do now.

" Bloody hell, bloody fucking hell!" Arthur bellowed as he kicked the chair beside him, the gravity of what they had just gone hitting him far more than any sin from the long list he had committed in the past. They had made a child an orphan, and Arthur's regret and new-found faith in the almighty was about to turn into a furious rage of self-inflicted guilt.

" Hey, hey!" Tommy said cupping Arthur's head in his hands in a vice grip, trying to snap him from the pit he was intent on falling in. " Johnny take the child and go start the car" Tommy said loosening his hands as Arthur's head cast down with shame at his sudden outburst. No reading of scriptures would ever be able to tame the raging fury from igniting within him at any given moment, no matter how hard he tried. " And Johnny, light a fire. Just as we did for John" Tommy finished reminding Arthur who this was for, who they were avenging.

" He won't quit!" Arthur panicked as he held the baby in the back seat of the car, fumbling with the hand stitched blanket as Tommy drove full speed down the country lane back to Arrow house were the night of meeting with dignitaries was surely over.

" He ain't a bloody chicken is he?" Johnny said as he reached over from the passengers seat taking the bundled up child into his arms. " Like this, look" Johnny added resting the baby's head on his shoulder as he silently prayed to every ancestor to take pity on him, promising them that the next child to be birthed with his last name he'd be the epitome of a modern father to.

" Shut him up Johnny!" Tommy shouted, his jaw clenched at the increased wailing in his ear, his nerves on edge by the constant reminder of the nights events he now had to deal with as he slammed his foot down on the pedal with Arrow house in sight.

"Grace!" Tommy's voice bellowed through the walls of the their house. Every guest had already left, the grand entrance cleared of tables of the most prestigious of all champagnes imported from France mere hours ago. A night of free food, free booze and music in return for them delving into their pockets. But with the host having been otherwise occupied for most of the evening it was a night wasted, one he would begrudgingly have to endure for a second time.

" Tommy..." Grace said as she hurried down the stairs pulling her ivory night gown around her as she watched Tommy pace back and forth with a cigarette hanging from his lips in the grand hallway.

" Here. You wanted a baby, now you have one" Tommy said as he took the child from Johnny's arms placing him into hers before storming off to his office and slamming the door shut, leaving his wife wide-eyed in confusion as Johnny and Arthur stood there sheepishly without a word.

" Frances, some warm cows milk and another blanket please. That will have to do until the morning" she said softly not wanting to startle the child anymore as she gently hushed his sobs away into small whimpers and sniffles. " One of you going to tell me what happened?"

It had been an hour, three whiskys, a packet of cigarettes and the rubbing of one's brow back and forth as a pounding headache settled onto his forehead since Tommy had shut himself away in his office, shutting himself away from the consequences of the night.

" Tommy?" Graces voice quietly announced as she entered the room with the newborn bundled in her arms soundly asleep as a flash of love at seeing his wife in her element softened her husband's face. Her motherly instincts that had been waiting to be freed finally being put to use after the longing for her own child.

" I've rung the orphanage" Tommy bluntly replied, the sweet moment that had captured him bitterly snatched away by no one else but himself as he stubbed out his cigarette. " They're coming first thing tomorrow to..."

" The orphanage. Tommy..." Grace interrupted him, her angered voice raising just above a whisper in response before being cut off herself.

" I won't hear anymore on it Grace. He can't stay here, that's the end of it" Tommy stood up throwing his lighter on a stack of paperwork as he rested his hands on the mahogany desk in front of him, looming over the list of numbers he had been calling as he huffed out a cloud of smoke.

" The end of it is it Thomas?" Grace scoffed as she walked forward, her eyes narrowing in on her husband with every step she took. " You made this child an orphan, he is your responsibility now. That's the end of it" she said coming to a stop in front of his desk as her husbands jaw tightened at her words.

" What about John's kids eh? They've been made orphans, hm? Grace? " He said as his wife turned her back on him as she headed for the door, Tommy's raised voice enough to startle a small whimper of cries from the baby boy now waking up from a deep slumber.

" When will it end Tommy?" Grace said as she came to a stop at the door. Tommy's relentless need for revenge against anyone who had dared to cross him leaving a string of orphans, elderly burying their own children and children burying their own parents. " A son Tommy, isn't that what you've wanted? What we've wanted?" she sighed, a deep wave of sorrow filling her heart as she looked down at the sweet child in her arms, a child she had yearned for during the unforgiving nights she had held onto her husband as tears streamed her face. Loss after loss breaking her already shattered heart.

" He'll be no son of mine"

Six years later...

" Elbows off Oliver" Grace reprimanded with a small smile of affection at the breakfast table to the child who had grown into a dimpled cheeked young boy as she rubbed her swollen stomach.

" Yes mummy" he replied kicking his legs back and forth as he wiped his cheeks from the egg soldiers he had just enjoyed as Tommy eyed him over the newspaper in his hand, reaching to caress his wife's stomach.

" He'll be here soon" Grace smiled to her husband lacing her fingers between his as she glanced over at her son that had no knowledge of who his birth parents were or the night that had brought him into their life, never wanting to or willing to send him into turmoil with the truth at such a young age "A baby brother for you Oliver " she winked to him as he grinned from ear to ear at the idea of having a sibling all whilst trying to stack the remaining pieces of toast into a strong hold that would keep the soldiers from the fiery dragon his imagination had conjured up. His attempts rendered futile when his tower of toast came crashing down onto the recently polished floors.

" Grace..." Tommy huffed folding his newspaper in half throwing it on the table in front of him, his patience easily tested with anything the small boy did that caused the slightest of inconvenience.

" Don't play with your food darling" she corrected him as Oliver's eyes darted to his father and the irritation clearly expressed in the creases of his furrowed brow. "Go clean up those buttery cheeks before I leave ok?" She smiled as the boy nodded in response while sliding off his seat only to stand on the scattered toast below him, causing a mountain of crumbs and further mess.

" You heard your mother" Tommy huffed lighting a cigarette as he looked down at the waste of food and the disorder that came with the child that had created it. " Oliver" Tommy pinched his brow as the little boy stood there doe eyed looking up at him nervously through his lashes.

" Go on" Grace smiled reassuring him as he ran to the door. " You're to harsh with him, he's scared of you" Grace said snapping her head to Tommy as he left the room.

" He doesn't listen" Tommy stated as he stood up taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched the boy through the crack of the door running up the stairs. " Stands there looking gormless whenever I tell him to do something, just like his traitor father"

" Tommy!" Grace said as she put the breakfast dishware down, crashing them onto the table in one loud clatter of knives, forks and spoons as she hurried to shut the door. " Don't ever let him hear you talk like that!"

" Well maybe he should know, eh Grace ?" Tommy said coldly stubbing his cigarette out, the pain from his brothers death never fully grieved, only ever making itself clear through the unfair coldness he showed to the child his wife had lovingly taken in all those years ago, raising him solely on her own over the watchful eye of him always standing from afar.

" You'd like that wouldn't you Tommy? Wouldn't have to keep up your facade anymore" Grace replied as she walked around the table. " Your his father, he knows no different. Just like this one" she said resting her hand on her stomach. " You're breaking his heart Tommy" she said taking his hand trying to reason with his stubbornness and the relentless friction he had undoubtedly created in the house the three of them shared. "I'm going to miss my train" she sighed as she closed her hand around his placing a tender kiss to his lips before turning to leave as Tommy followed behind her, watching from the door as she knelt down to Oliver in the entryway.

" Can't i come?" the young boy sobbed as she brushed his tears from his rosy cheeks. " Please?" he sniffed turning to see Tommy leaning against the door frame watching from afar, always from afar.

" I'm sorry darling, not this time" she replied a look of concern in her eyes about leaving him alone with Tommy, silently wishing this one time he would push his unenthusiastic demeanor aside and at least try if not for her then the little boy who thought the world of him. The same little boy with a determination that matched the very man who would brush off any attempts he made to impress him. Tommy's hate for the man that had fathered him clouding every parental instinct in his body. " I'll bring you something back" she winked giving him a hug before she fixed her hat and hesitantly turned to the door, leaving the young boy standing in the hallway sobbing as Tommy cruelly turned his back on his tears and shut the dinning room door behind him.

" Dad, Johnny, watch me!" Oliver shouted as he precariously placed one foot in front of the other climbing the large oak tree shading the evening sun on the grounds of Arrow house as Tommy and Johnny dogs watched on from the patio door. The young boy hell-bent on getting to the very top after seeing his uncle Arthur climb the very same tree two weeks earlier as he watched on in awe.

"That 'a boy!" Johnny shouted back pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he waved back. " Found 'em Tom" he turned to Tommy in a hushed voice as he leaned in. "They live up north in Yorkshire, factory workers in the local pressing center. Dirt poor, drunk ol' man that beats his wife within an inch of her life and too many mouths to feed" Johnny added as he watched Tommy's eyes following Oliver's every move.

" He's gonna fucking fall" Tommy huffed under his breath as he stood up straight, already on guard for the inevitable. He never fucking listens, why would he never listen to him?

" Tom, you listening ?" Johnny said as he pulled the address of Oliver's uncle from his pocket. " Grace will never forgive you Tom, he's her whole world" Johnny added as Tommy took the piece of crumpled paper from him, the decision to send Oliver to his family having been made after the unexpected news of Grace's pregnancy, a decision made solely by him without her knowledge. It's better she didn't know, better for him that was. And when the day did come, he'd tell her his family claimed him back. What grounds would she have to fight them? She'd be distracted with the birth of their son, she'd forget...wouldn't she?

"Dad look!" Oliver shouted trying to get his attention, determined to show him how far he could climb, how he was as fearless as any other Shelby before he misplaced his foot and came tumbling down to the ground.

"Oliver!" Tommy shouted throwing his cigarette into the grass as he and Johnny ran over in a panic. " What did I tell you eh?! What did I fucking tell you?!" Tommy shouted, all words of expected comfort and love absent from his voice as anger and frustration took over.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed looking up to his dad as Tommy removed his cap from his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked down at the bloody cut on his hand, every ounce of his being telling him to cradle the boy in his arms that knew nothing but him as his father.

" Ay, up you get" Johnny said helping him as he gave him a pat to his back. " Just a scratch Oliver ay? No broken bones. Nout to worry on. Ain't that right Tommy?" Johnny said in attempts to reassure the sobbing boy and Tommy who was about ready to snap again, his jaw tightened at the sight of Oliver's cheeks streamed with tears, muddy and red from the blow of the fall.

"Get inside" Tommy said placing his cap back on as he started marching back to the house, ignoring the pit of fear in his stomach at how things could have taken a turn for the worse under his watch of the boy Grace had entrusted him with. " Boys don't cry Oliver. Soldier up and wipe those tears" Tommy harshly stated as he left him and Johnny by themselves as he made his way to his office, shutting himself once again away from any more responsibility, anymore damage his presence caused.

" Come on lad" Johnny said putting his arm around him as Oliver sniffed back his tears feeling foolish that he had not only fallen but cried In front of his father, the man that never cried.

Sitting back in his leather chair Tommy rubbed the weight of the guilt that had settled on his forehead with the tips of his fingers as the night drew in, the soft hue from the crackling fire the only source of light in the blackened room he had locked himself in for the remainder of the evening. The impending birth of his child had unexpectedly thrown Tommy's thoughts into an uncomfortable disarray. Out of sight out of mind had been Tommy's only solution to the feelings that had started to arise in him that fatherhood had threatened, that fatherhood had been threatening him with for six years. Oliver was more like him than Tommy dared to admit. The child's strong will and refusal to listen one of his own cruel making. Why couldn't he love him like he already loved his unborn child? How long could he keep this up? Would he be that man, unashamedly favoring one child in front of the other? With too many questions dominating his thoughts and his wife's gentle voice absent to soothe the demons he had created for himself, Tommy did what he only knew how to do. Drink himself to the bottom of a whisky bottle. Heading up to the second floor of Arrow house with the finest bottle of Irish whisky in his hand he stopped at the top of the stairs, small whimpers and cries coming from the room at the end of the hallway capturing his attention. Oliver's room.

" Frances!" Tommy called out as he waited for the the housekeeper to deal with what he knew he couldn't. "Fuck sake" he huffed under his breath after waiting in place for someone to come before he found himself walking down the hallway to Oliver's room. There, with his knees curled up to his chest Tommy watched though the crack of the door as Oliver rubbed his hand back and forth over the bandage wrapped tightly around his injured wrist, his small frame illuminated by the cast of the gentle moonlight shining through his bedroom window. Running his hand down his face Tommy opened the door as Oliver quickly turned around pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Oliver?" Tommy questioned placing the bottle of whisky on the side cabinet as he walked over. " Why aren't you asleep?" Tommy said more bluntly than he intended to as he stood by the bed, feeling a wave of unease wash over him as he noted the small blanket Oliver was clutching onto. The very same blanket he was wrapped in the night they had found him. Grace had kept it, something he would have known if he had ever sat and read him a bedtime story, if he had ever woke in the night to hush the nightmares away from his worried mind, if he had ever even entered his room in all of the six years he had lived under his roof." Let me see" Tommy said in a gentler tone as he sat beside him on the bed. " Oliver let me see" he said when no response came from the whimpers the small child was trying to stifle. Boys don't cry. " Please?" Tommy sighed resting his hand on the child's back as his head fell into his other, the guilt of six year of taking the life of his parents settling on his shoulders pushing him further into his elbow digging into his leg as his head grew heavy with regret. Sniffling, Oliver turned around with his hand out as Tommy cradled it gently in his own, the difference in size causing Tommy's throat to go dry. The hate for his father's betrayal that of a grown mans doing, not this young boys that Tommy had cruelly burdened him with for six years " First of many battle wounds eh?" Tommy smiled to the young boy as Oliver's face stayed unchanged, unresponsive to Tommy trying to ease his worry. Had he done this? Made the child is his care so frightened of him he couldn't even a coax a smile from him?

" Soldiers don't cry" Oliver said pulling his hand away, his bottom lip turning down at the thought he wasn't as strong as his father, a soldier like him.

" They do Oliver" Tommy said as his brows knitted together at the thought that young Oliver had taken his words to heart. What else had Tommy said in the past six years, what else had he unknowingly taught him?

" You said boys..."

" And I shouldn't have " Tommy answered before he could finish as the boy wiped his tears from his youthful cheeks whilst a small silence filled the room, the strain from their relationship left empty with nothing further to say as Tommy desperately tried to search for the comforting words he knew Oliver needed to hear. " You want your mum don't you?" Tommy said swallowing harshly as he turned his head to the rays of moonlight cast on the wooden floor " I'm sorry Oliver, I'm..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as he clasped his hand around the child's shoulder. "... I'm not very good at this. You gotta help me out here. Will you help me?" he said as he gently squeezed his shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth as the barriers Tommy had kept up started to fall around him as he desperately scrambled to gain back the wasted years he had been adored, loved unconditionally, a love he had never once reciprocated . " Get some rest" Tommy sighed patting Oliver's shoulder, his plea for help left unanswered as he stood up when a small hand grabbed hold of him.

" Tell me a story, please?" Oliver asked as he sat up in his bed looking up to the man he had always looked up to, always waiting for an ounce of affection.

" That what your mum does eh?" Tommy replied as he sat back down, adjusting the covers lovingly around the boy, if not a little overly enthusiastically as Oliver was now in a tight cocoon of covers and blankets with his arms securely fastened by his sides. " A story..." Tommy mused aloud, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as his brain mulled over all the potential tales that could see him sleeping in the guest room for an undefined amount of time if Grace ever found out, when the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile you would think had never seen the light of day let alone witnessed by anyone but himself. Arthur had made him swear in blood to never mention the day his gangly legs had gotten in his way causing him to fall from would could have been the very same tree Oliver had fell from earlier that day in attempts impress a girl three decades ago. " Arthur made me swear never to tell anyone, but you won't tell him I told you, right? Tommy said as the boy nodded his head, understanding the severity of pinky swears and the fate of death if you ever spilled.

" Cross my heart" he nodded with all the seriousness he could muster as his little face twisted into a stern expression, a worthy match to Tommy's own infamous pout. He was a Shelby after all, Tommy thought to himself as his heart suddenly filled with pride.

" That's my boy" Tommy said as he turned to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Oliver nestled into his side " My son eh? Tommy nudged him into his body as the boys eyes beamed up at his father's loving gaze. "My son..."

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 8

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: At team BEBE’s practice, the girls have a little gossip among themselves

Warning: None? But y/n is not in this chapter because I am not feeling well and just wanted to write a little something for funsies- sorry y’all ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ )

AN: Am not good at writing conflict so the original part 8 is scraped hehe instead I’m procrastinating and decided to write a light hearted dribble with the girlies instead~ thanks for tuning in again ^_^

Previous | Next

Tatter smelled something suspicious in the air following Bada’s MIA status after their Performance Battle. Yes, the team did witness Bada landing on her chin during one of the routines- and it’s not that the BEBE member didn’t believe in said injury- it’s the fact that their team leader was oddly giddy after the fall. Like, straight up lowering-her-cap-by-the-rim-to-hide-her-smirk-lip-biting-giddy. ‘No one should be that cheerful after tearing a muscle’, Tatter had decided. ‘Therefore, Bada must be suspicious’, she further deduced.

“Look at her trying to play coy with us,” Tatter leaned over to their team’s sub-leader and muttered, frowning at the charm which the choreographer seemed to be exuding lately. Looking pointedly at their team leader, who’s currently snapping a selfie in the studio mirrors (presumably to post it on her instagram later), Tatter narrowed her eyes. Bada had always been a heartthrob to the camera and fans, but the blonde dancer had noticed a telltale spike these past weeks. “Look at all that swag, she must be overcompensating for something.”

Looking up from her stretches, Lusher followed Tatter’s gaze towards their team leader in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, whose mood did seem to be extraordinarily pleasant as of late. “Oh- Oh damn. Sorry for calling you crazy last week, you were clearly onto something.” Lusher squinted at Bada’s obnoxiously preppy footsteps in the morning. “Prancing around on a Monday? Somebody got laid over the weekend.”

‘Who could it be?’ Tatter wondered to herself as she finished warming up for the day. ‘Bada’s reaction to the bouquet and the card- what an interesting reaction.’

“Whoever it is,” Lusher pressed her palms together dramatically and said a little prayer, “thank you for keeping her happy, and our lives easier.”

“Amen to that,” Minah chimed in. “You reckon it’s someone from the show?”

“Elaborate.”

As the duo bickered among themselves regarding the identity of Bada’s newest scandal, Tatter continued to ponder over the pieces of information she had accumulated. Her eyes lit up as she recalled Latrice’s request, and something involving a skirt.

“Lusher,” Tatter interjected a debate between Minah’s team-Redy and Lusher’s team-Audrey. “Do you remember that time Bada asked to borrow your skirt?”

Lusher snapped around with speed that almost warranted whiplash. “Latrice’s friend!” Her hand flew to her phone by the dance studio’s floor length mirror, flicking through her contact list. “Aha.”

Latrice was at the shops when her phone chimed. Reading the message popping up on the phone, she chuckled a little and clocked the noseyness instantly. Within a few moments, Latrice had sent through your best ‘this is her’ photos and social media profiles to the team BEBE’s subleader.

Tatter and Lusher hummed squinted their eyes at your picture, trying to pinpoint why’d you look familiar. A shockingly good candid photo of you attending an event was pulled up on Lusher’s phone. A gray suit sat on your shoulder, accompanied by a scowl as the photographer had caught you off guard (cr 📷: Latrice). “I think I’d remember if she’s been around,” Minah wondered aloud.

“Elevator, real tall.” The usually timid Sowoen piped in unexpectedly. “The one with mother Miranda vibes.”

Now that registered in Lusher’s mind. “Wait,” Lusher zoomed in on your picture, “does Latrice have more friends in town?”

“Mhmm- I dig the delinquency,” Tatter said, still staring at the phone. “Bada finally found her match huh.”

“I’m giving my number to her,” Sowoen announced. The youngest is filled with surprise today.

Tatter and Lusher glanced at each other before bursting out into a fit of giggles. “We are pretty sure Bada is linking up with her, what do you mean you’re giving her your number?”

“I called dibs!” The youngest of the group wailed, her teammates now laughing at her flushed red cheeks.

The noise attracted their team leader, who have finally decided to investigate the shenanigans that the girls have been up to.

“What’s the gripe? Who do we hate?” The tall choreographer butted between Sowoen and Minah, expecting another Selena-Hailey debate going on among the dancers, only to be shocked when Lusher turned her phone screen to her. “Woah! How’d we get this?”

Sowoen gently prodded a finger at Bada’s shoulder. “Bada-unnie,” she quietly, but firmly, requested for Bada’s attention. “They said you’ve been linking up with her. Respectfully, that’s not cool man, I called dibs.”

The group stared wide eyed at the baby of their team, who’d suddenly found her voice in the team- and immediately chose to use it to declare her utmost disappointment at their team leader’s disrespect.

“Wait. Pause. Rewind. how did the conversation get here in the first place?”

“I find you suspicious these days,” Tatter shrugged.

“Can you still pass my number along?”

“I have no idea what’s going on but I’m loving your energy,” Lusher and Minah egged on. A ‘go Sowoen’ was muttered by one of them.

Bada stares incredulously at her teammates, “y’all this is the toxic gossip train-”

“Nope,” Tatter cuts her short, not giving Bada a chance to finish her sentence. “That’s not how that saying is used.”

“We won’t gossip if you give us the tea,” Minah proposed an alternative.

“There’s no tea!” Bada shook her head at the girls, raising a hand in defense. “Look, it’s nothing serious, and I won't let it affect my work. Can we please get back to brainstorming some Rihanna songs?”

The group gasped, Sowoen looking over at Tatter for moral support. “So there is something going on?”

“Oh come on,” Bada sighed exasperatedly, sticking her tongue against the hollow of her cheeks. “We’ve been filming for months, do you know how hard it is to find someone who can work around my schedule?”

“You have a schedule… to fuck?” Minah side-eyed her team leader. Tatter swiftly placed her hands over Sowoen’s ears. “That changed my perception of you- Not sure what kind of change- but not for the better, I can assure you.”

“Jesus, that’s not what I mean,” Bada rolled her eyes at the girls, defending her image in Sowoen’s eyes. “As much as I love dancing, a woman has needs, alright? Hey- no, don’t boo me Lusher. I saw the way you acted around Chocol. You little sl- I said don’t boo me!”

“Eh,” Tatter shrugged her shoulders and pointed her chin at the phone screen, “lesbians? Give ‘em two weeks, three more dates, and they’ll be u-hauling.”

Bada gasped, “accusatory and stereotyping.”

“Hey wanna bet that bada is going to use winning the show to get laid?” Ignoring their leader, the girls giggled amongst themselves.

“If we win-”

Minah was cut off by Bada. “-when we win.”

Sowoen gasped and pointed a finger at the team BEBE leader. “So you are planning on doing that!”

The girls watched their team leader dumbly open and shut her mouth as she attempted to come up with a witty comeback. When she drew a blank, she huffed and retreated to the speakers across the room, fiddling with the Bluetooth settings as she tried to keep her hands busy.

“Bada-unnie,” Sowoen cleared her throat before throwing in one last jab, “if it’s just a fling you won’t mind me asking her out, right?”

Tatter learned two things that practice: 1, Bada, despite contrary beliefs, bottoms (frequency still unknown, but seemingly not zero). 2, Sowoen is a milf hunter.

‘What a week!’ Tatter thought to herself. ‘And it’s only Monday.’

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf @rubywonu @wiselight @avocifera

[obliqueblade]

A Post from a Friend

Hello, everyone. I am not Obliqueblade, and for those who have been here before, I’m sure you know what that means. For those unaware, or those stumbling across this blog in the future, I will explain. 

The original owner of this account, my best friend, has died. 

I didn't even know that she had a Tumblr, nor that she had planned to leave it with me after everything. It breaks my heart a bit to see her updates and talk about her prognosis as she did. 

I’m sure I’ll have more to say, eventually, I do plan on doing as she asked, completing her work the way she wanted- but for now, I want to grieve my friend. Then, I want to talk about who she was, explain just how much this community meant to her, and generally just talk about one of the greatest people I’ve known. 

She did leave a message she wrote a month ago, about a week before she passed, and I would like to share it with you all now. 

Feel free to leave comments, I’ll be back to answer soon. 

Thank you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have been putting this off for quite some time, but I fear I have no more time I can delay. Despite everything, I’m still a procrastinator at heart. I have spent far too much time thinking of how I want to address those who have stumbled onto my account and on my writing, but I fear for all my writing I am not sure how to word what I feel. 

Rather than continuing to wait, I have decided to write what I have collected of my thoughts thus far. I deeply appreciate those who have left likes, comments, and reposts of my writing- even those outside of “Who are you, really?”. When I started this journey, I had not anticipated it taking as long as it has. I also did not foresee what would occur at that time. I had thought I would live to see the end of my fic, but that can no longer be the case.

But that is the way life works, I suppose. Most people are not dealt the hands they deserve, nor are they given nearly enough time. 

I have always wished to help people- I had hoped that I would be able to achieve that in my life, but I am not sure I can say I have. Regardless, I am grateful for those who were able to contribute to my happiness these past few years. 

Recently, I have to admit I took a step back from writing, as well as watching Hermitcraft. I fear my heart may not be able to take not knowing what I will be left never to know. Waiting on those cliffhangers of “what’s next”- when I do not know if I will wake up tomorrow. 

I am satisfied with what I have seen so far, and as of writing this, Joel has announced his own TCG common card. I have asked the friend I have left this account for to get one on my behalf to join the others I have. I would like them, as well as all the merch I have to be with me. It feels important that even though I will no longer be here, those stay with me. 

While I may not be watching Hermitcraft as I wait, I am pleased with the memories I carry—the joy they bring me. The edits, art, and stories this community has created supported and distracted me in some of my darkest moments, and I truly regret that I will not be able to finish this story, with my own words, the way I had intended. 

Finally, I want to say, thank you. Even if you are discovering all of this after my passing, I am grateful to all those who have stumbled into my little corner of the internet. Just because I am gone, the things I have gotten to create will forever remain as moments captured from a different time.

This was truly the happiest few years of my life and in the words of Technoblade himself

 “I hope you all go on to live long, prosperous, and happy lives because I love you guys”

~ObliqueBlade Out

[maochira]

hi i just binged read your itoshi sibling masterlist and i am in LOVE 🙉

do you think you can expand on the being left behind drabble you did? like how does rin & sae react to the reader giving them a taste of their own medicine? do they make it up to them and if so, how– does the reader forgive them etc...

Hi anon!! I'm glad you enjoy the Itoshi sibling stuff :] I think "And now we're throwing paper planes into the sky [...]" is a bit similar to this request so if you haven't read it yet, I think you'll like it :]

Requests open! - current writing event - Itoshi siblings masterlist

Tags: gn!youngest Itoshi!reader, continuation of this

Rin is the first one to notice you've stopped calling and texting him. He keeps telling himself he'll visit you when he gets the chance. He doesn't want to fix this over a call or a text, so he's waiting for the next time he gets to see you in person. But because he's stuck in Blue Lock, he has no idea when that day will come. So he starts telling himself he'll call you tomorrow night. But he does that every night. He procrastinates it over and over. He knows he made mistakes and is afraid to face the reality of that. He was hurt by Sae once, so he can't stand the thought of knowing he hurt you. He knows he can't just talk to you as if nothing ever happened. He knows he has to apologise the moment he talks to you again. And apologizing means facing the reality of how he's hurt you.

Sae on the other hand takes longer to realize there's no more contact between you and him. He's very busy, so you rarely cross his mind. But one day he realizes, he doesn't see your contact on top every time he opens his messaging app anymore. And when he scrolls down to see how long ago your last message was, it hurts his heart to realize he was unintentionally ignoring you to a point when you just gave up. Other than Rin, Sae calls you the next moment when he has enough time to talk to you. Seeing the notification popping up on your phone surprises you, so you pick up immediately. Sae apologizes and promises he'll put more effort into staying in touch with you.

[seuonji]

hellooo !! i saw ur reqs were open and i thought of a dumb(?) idea if you wanna write it

a humor hc with the hip hop unit as students on zoom

just something about this image... >>>

from aya: WRAYY OMG OH MY GOD I LOVEEE THIS HAHAHAH. seventeen members are so highschool boys to me so this is right up my alley😭 thank you for suggesting this ily<3

this will be fully platonic!!

seungcheol, doesn’t want to join class but he joins anyway. graded A*** in physical education.

i know he was liked by teachers when he was in highschool so i do think he makes an effort to join class.

he tends to join class late but that’s because he was doing some stupid shit beforehand. like he was probably trying to learn how to do a handstand or he tried to speed run a game before class starts but he ended up forgetting he has class in the first place. (that was me in 2020)

his parents were called and notified that he’s been missing class— that was hard to explain.

he’s definitely dabbled in cheating during tests. he gets away with it but classmates notices the way the light from his screen changes in tones and colours due to him changing tabs when he searches for answers…

+

wonwoo, online class = gaming time.

that man cheered when online class became a thing.

he’s that kid that joins class, turns off his cam and then leaves the zoom on in the background and his attention is averted to gaming.

he’s that kid that the teacher has to call 10 times but they eventually give up.

wonwoo has came back to the zoom class only to find out he was kicked out.

but at some point, teachers refused to keep him in the class until he turns on his camera so eventually he did start turning it on but he still continued to play games but what wonwoo didn’t realise was that his screen reflected on his glasses lense.

morning classes are the worst for him. he’d join the class then sleep.

wonwoo’s grades were in the negatives.

+

mingyu, online class enjoyer.

omg

he’s just a good student idk what to tell you. but that’s not the point.

he might eat during class while accidentally having his mic on, giving everyone some asmr.

other than that he’s chill, teachers love him.

he’s the type to put on weird backgrounds and people always comment on it.

one time he was sending a text to his friend but he ended up sending it to the whole class because he forgot to make the message send privately.

has probably been in an argument over zoom.

headcanon: he was placed into a break room with seungcheol and soonyoung and somehow he was still bullied despite there being a screen between them.

+

vernon, online < offline. procrastination ↑↑↑

he’s diligent in joining i feel. if we take a deep dive, he’s made it clear highschool wasn’t a good experience for him :,)…in his case i feel like he’s diligent in joining because it’s better that going to physical school. as deep as that may sound—

despite him diligent, he tends to drift away from class and he ends up watching youtube videos on the side.

or he’d start using his phone but he gets too immersed that he forgets to hide the fact that he’s on his phone…

i think if he was comfortable enough with the students in the class, he’d show himself on camera more. it might catch you off guard cause you might take a peek at him and all you see is this.

vernon leaned too far back in his chair that he fell. everyone saw it :D

[quietlyblooms]

alrighty, friends, i feel the need to be a little transparent because it's affecting things here. the short version of everything is: i'm not doing so hot in the mental health department. no one needs to be concerned -- i'm okay even if i'm having a hard time. but i just ask that everyone continues to be patient and understanding bc i promise that i'm excited to write and chat!! both new and old mutuals, i have so much admiration for you all!! the problem is that the discomfort and sensitivity i feel are making it increasingly difficult to be punctual and social.

so what does this mean? it means my activity may continue to be extra slow. i might procrastinate with messages or go completely silent. i might not log on some days just so i don't have to use my brain. but however my presence here fluctuates, i promise that in no way this is a reflection of my feelings towards you or our muses. i'm just going through it.

all that said, thank you for being here <3 thank you for filling my dash with things that make me smile, and thank you for being a space where i can relax. i care about all of you so much, and i encourage you to be kind to yourselves!! take breaks!! take your time!! your happiness and health matter first always.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for staying friends with someone?

I (25, nonbinary) became friends with someone (19F) online because they liked a fanfic I wrote. Let's call her Jessie. At first, Jessie messaged me just to say she enjoyed my fic and shared a fanart she drew of it. I was absolutely blown away by that, and let her know how nice her art was. Which started us having a pretty normal online friendship. Chatting about silly fandom things or ranting about our jobs or school or whatever. She is a really smart and funny person!

Jessie started writing fanfic, which I encouraged. It's fun to write! Of course I would read her fanfic and let her know I enjoyed it.

But then it turned into her only messaging me to read her fanfic. Like, we never can hold a conversation anymore without it turning to talking about her fanfic. I don't even bring up my own fics anymore because I know it will switch the conversation to Jessie's fics.

And, Jessie started to pressure me to write her ideas. Like "Oh, this would be a good idea! You should write this! When are you going to write this! I'll be waiting to read it. Have you written it yet?" When I never agreed to write it. Half the time, it's not even something I would want to write.

Or, I read this one fic and wrote a post on tumblr about how much I enjoyed it, and then minutes later had Jessie spamming my messages about how I should make a post promoting her fics. And exactly which ones I should promote because they don't get enough attention.

But the most recent thing Jessie has been doing that has annoyed me is continuously asking "If I think her fics are just as good as my fics". Like, I'm not a talented author, in my opinion. I'm pretty average. But I feel like the answer Jessie wants is for me to say Jessie's fics are better than mine. It always feels like Jessie wants to put myself under her which is...just not a good feeling. I usually just say I think we are about the same, but Jessie never seems satisfied with that answer.

I feel like our friendship has shifted to Jessie only wanting to use me for attention and the small amount of publicity I can offer. (Which isn't much. It's not like I am a well-known person or anything. I'm certainly not exactly a BNF writer or anything)

Here is where I am asking if I am an asshole. I've gotten to the point where I don't even LIKE Jessie anymore. Her actions have just...soured our relationship. I just roll my eyes when I see a notification from her, or shit talk her in real life to my brother. I procrastinate answering her messages.

But I really don't want to be mean to her face. She has had a really hard time in life. Her parents are kinda shit and her boyfriend left her (which he wasn't so great either). She has a ton of health issues, money issues, relationship issues, etc. I don't want to just drop her and make things worse for her life. But also, I just kinda can't stand the behavior anymore.

Part of me thinks I should just set up more clear boundaries, but on the other hand I just don't want to put in the effort of fighting her for those boundaries. And I am pretty sure it would be a fight.

Am I an asshole for continuing the motions of a friendship for a person I don't even like anymore? Should I just end the friendship and let them move on, or would that be worse?

(Asdfghjkl123)

What are these acronyms?

[artist-issues]

Hello hello I have very big and complicated questions that started out broad and complex but got more and more specific and more and more personal like my questions to my family and friends always do. Whoops lol. Buckle up.

I wanted to ask about fanfiction. I've really been thinking about that post you made about how a lot of fanfiction can be just used as a form of escapism, and not in a good way like Tolkien described it, but as a 'I hate life so I'm gonna read and write extensively about fictional characters rather than working hard/trying to improve my own life' Which I really want to avoid and not do. In the past I've certainly fallen into that trap- I would get so caught up in writing Marvel or Percy Jackson or Harry Potter fanfiction (not to toot my own horn, but was objectively good and I do think grew my skills a lot as a writer and character analyzer) that I would spend every free moment and many of ones when I really should've been working on school or chores or spending time with my actual family reading and writing it. I was probably doing that 5-8 hours a day when I was 11/12. (Yikes) Thankfully, my parents smacked some sense into me lol. It really just goes to show you how, for lack of a better term, soul-consuming, that these kind of fantasy pursuits can really be. Thankfully, I don't do that any more. I actively limit myself to a max of 3 hours of reading and writing fanfiction over the course of a week, which is a big improvement.

So yay! Now I have a definte separation from writing fanfiction to improve my writing and writing it to waste time because all of my energy is focused on it to the point where it is in my every thought. Good! Growth!

But now my new thing is this- I want to make sure that any and all fanfiction I write has a definite point. I want it to point to good things and have clear messages and blue flowers and point to Jesus, even if it isn't specifically a 'Christian' fanfiction.

For example, let's just point at that Voice in the Dark one shot I wrote, which is one of, if not the, best singular fiction piece that I've written. I think the reasons why it was so good was that A) I expanded on the story in a way that was intriguing, and got inside my characters heads and accurately depicted their thought processes through it B) Made it pleasant to read with details and action and emotion and everything, C) set everything up for a part 2 conclusion of Sam and Five really connecting and talking about what they both said/thought, and becoming friends (which after procrastinating for months, I'm finally working on), but most importantly, D) Had clear themes of hope, perseverance, connection, trust, and encouragement. Which is really what I think made it so much more excellent than other fanfiction pieces I've written. I had a clear point and intention going into it that was more than just 'Have it be something I love and just for my entertainment' although that was one of the reasons I did decide to write it I will say- you do have to love what you want to write in order to write it well after all. But this is absolutely what I want the point of all my fanfiction writing to be like from here on out, being morally great, as well as well-written.

So now, because I really enjoy ZR and its really is kinda perfect for a fanfiction format, I want to turn it into more of an ongoing piece with my favorite missions and Five's relationships with the characters. But how do I go about this trying to intentionally bring in blue flowers and good messages and beautiful themes, and not just only write it for my entertainment because its a piece of media I love? How to I make sure to firstly know what themes I can bring in, and then do it in such a way that's well-written, while also being able to have those fun moments and situations that are both in the game and I've thought up?

And finally, last thing, is I'm wrestling through if I should continue writing fanfiction to 'fix' a story (which is why I started a Percy Jackson and Marvel fanfictions, I wanted to take the parts of each story I didn't like and were poorly done and make them better) rather than make my own point with it. For most of the fanfiction writing I've ever done, my goal was to improve it, to act like a ghostwriting editor the author hired to fix their fundamentally flawed story. But now I'm realizing that I was spending so much time and effort (which don't get me wrong, I do not fully regret, I really do think that I've gotten far better at fiction writing through this) and I didn't even add any more goodness or morals to the story in a way that made it more soul-sustaining and truly good. I wanted to add a lot of bits that made be as a reader squeal and get happy over which... I don't think is bad per say, but its not what I want my fanfiction to be like any more. With my writing, I absolutely do want to improve on the source material, yes, but I also want to figure out what sort of themes and goodness I'm going for with it. So should I continue writing these large projects (cause each piece covers several books/movies) for improvement and also try to expand on the good ideas and themes the authors had, even bringing in my own, or should I just set it aside as that was great, but now I need to focus on making writing morally good and not just for entertainment?

I know a big part of this is wisdom and descretion- things that God has blessed me with but I know I always can pursue more of. So I know a absolute perfect answer to this question will require time and experience. But after sorting through my word-vomiting (sorry lol), what would you say to all of this? Thank you!! <3

Hey! First of all, I love getting questions from you, and I especially love it because you take enough time to read the previous things I say that we can have a very level conversation, and a deep back-and-forth, which is not always the case with everybody who sends me questions (I like those questions too, I’m just saying.) So thanks for typing all that up!

Second of all, I’m no expert on fanfiction writing. You’ve read what I have to say about making sure the “Tone & Style” and “Themes” of any “Continued Work” stay true to their source material when it comes to like, sequels and expansions? Well, I guess I would apply that philosophy, generally, to fanfiction, too.

But the point of my “second of all” is actually, there are better people to ask about this than me. I can answer you in a broad “here’s how I apply my storytelling philosophy to this hypothetical scenario” sense, but other people have more experience actually doing what you’re talking about with fanfiction. Specifically, @doverstar, who, if you don’t follow her or read her stuff, I seriously think you’re missing out.

So in summary, talk to Doverstar. She’ll answer this better. But if I had to try and succinctly respond, I’d say: “Intentionality is always better than doing something by accident. But if you genuinely value goodness, beauty, and truth, in your own personal worldview, in a way that is genuine, and you cultivate that…it’ll come out in your writing on accident.” So in a way, even when you’re being intentional, as long as you remember that, you don’t have to be too militant whether you’re writing fanfiction or fiction.

(That’s a thought I’m still learning to put into practice, myself. I err on the side of “control everything to a T, outline everything, everything has to have a tie-in to the theme—if it doesn’t you’re failing—“ and I don’t recommend that mindset 😅) That’s the “short” answer to your ask. I’ve got a deep-dive below the cut if you’re interested, though.

How do I make sure to firstly know what themes I can bring in?

This has to do with knowing the source-story.

ZR unfortunately gets very political and social in further seasons, but to do it credit, the main, recurring, broad theme of Zombies, Run continues to be “Something greater than yourself is all that’s worth living and dying for.”

They keep coming back to it with literally every villain, and every hero, from multiple angles. You’ll see. They say, “the pursuit of pure happiness alone is bad because it’s selfish—the pursuit of immortality is bad because it’s selfish—the pursuit of everyone’s affections is bad because it’s selfish; but sacrificing for others is the real happiness, the real immortality, the real love, etc.”

So any fanfiction—even if, surface-read, it appears to be about Five falling in love with Sam or Janine learning to communicate, etc—that comes back to “Something greater than yourself is all that’s worth living and dying for.” is a success. Because it carried on the Main Point of ZR. Or it carried on a point that could be tied to the main point, whatevs.

But your question (for other fandoms) is “How do I know what themes I can bring in?”

Okay, well, that’s actually not so hard. Lots of “sub-themes” fit under the umbrella of the main theme. “Something greater than yourself,” well, that entails “self-sacrifice, gaining a broader perspective, finding empathy,” etc. (something you can see they do with sheltered characters or brittle, mission-focused miopic characters like Janine.)

But how did I find the main theme to begin with? This post. In summary:

Take in the Story, With the Single Expectation that They’re Trying to Tell You Something.

Take Note of Where You Felt Something. Then Figure Out Why You Felt It.

Figure Out What Each Character Wants, and If They Have a Moment of Change.

Look at What Decisions the Storytellers Reward, and What Decisions They Punish.

You can apply this to Marvel, to Percy Jackson, to anything. Once you figure out the main theme, it’s not so hard to break that down into little supporting ideas. And inject those into your own story. And you can even figure out where the storytellers dropped the ball, or lost their theme and did something totally out-of-character, and then fix that with your fanfiction.

Or, galaxy-brain, is when you figure out what the story was trying to say—and it was saying something bad or wrong, but you liked some of the setting or characterizations, you can fix that. Like I’ve always wanted to do with A Streetcar Named Desire.

What you don’t want to do is try to make the story about a theme that has nothing to do with any good or true thing—it’s just gratuitous. For example, I see about sixty fanfics for Twisters (one of my new favorite movies, you may recall) and they’re all about Tyler (the main guy) needing to be defended from his abusive alcoholic dad.

There is no mention of his dad, or alcohol, or Tyler having any emotional trauma, at all, in Twisters. Because the point of the movie Twisters is the girl character’s trauma (and her best friend’s,) and Tyler’s role in all of that is to be the guy who pushes her past that. Because he’s lived a lifestyle of “you ride your fears, you don’t run from them, you don’t even just face them.”

So why would a character who’s whole conception, who was created to say that, be curled up in a sad little miserable ball because his out-of-nowhere made-up father is back in town? He wouldn’t do that. His lifestyle is “ride your fears.” He’d be the guy reaching out and inviting his dad to lunch to see if something he does can make the outcome different, even though his dad never shows up, or always makes a scene, or whatever, because that would be “riding his fears.” That’s Tyler’s character. So why would you have him curl into a little ball and need his 126-lb girlfriend to defend him?

I’ll tell you why, it’s because the point of your story was not the point of Twisters, or anything good. The point of your story was, “I have a thing for emotional scenes where a man gets all weak and vulnerable and needs his love interest to take care of him,” and it shows. So you just hung skin-puppets and names of established characters on “your thing” and that’s trash storytelling. The characters are supposed to serve the story, and the story is supposed to serve the audience, not serve you.

That would be an extreme example of what not to do.

And then do it in such a way that's well-written, while also being able to have those fun moments and situations that are both in the game and I've thought up?

If my fanfic is all about Sam and Five coming clean about their feelings together, that’s fine—but they should be driven to do that because not doing that is selfish. And selfishness is the opposite of “something greater than yourself is all that’s worth living and dying for.” So I’d have Sam avoid admitting to himself that Five means so much to him because if he does, he opens himself up to crippling worry after what happened to Alice. So out of fear, which is ultimately self-protection, he doesn’t admit that he has feelings for her. But then eventually he comes to realize that caring about someone else actually drives him to work harder for the Greater Good, etc.

See what I mean? Your fanfic can be a string of scenes of will-they-won’t-they, romcom popcorn, as long as the thread holding them together is that character arc that points back to the game’s main theme.

To make it well-written, you just have to be genuine. I know everyone has lots of good tips like “show don’t tell” but books like Jane Eyre tell much more than they show. Some people say, “break up the pace with dialogue,” or “cut the tension with comedy, then ramp it back up,” etc., but there’s no cut to the tension in Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde. There’s breaks to every rule. There’s an audience for every style. Just do what C. S. Lewis says and “tell the truth, without caring two pence if it’s original.”

If you know your source material and love the loveable parts for what it is, and then you marry that with what you really believe and value in the real world, you’ll get it.

Know what you’re trying to say, love what you’re trying to say, and sacrifice to say it.

I think now that you’re thinking about this stuff, you’re going to have a hard time not writing something morally good, with entertainment as a supporting pillar.

[fadingdaggerr]

close to home

part one | part two | part three | part four

pairing: brienne of tarth x gn!reader

summary: continuation of a piece of home now set in mid-late season 4 when brienne is searching for arya and sansa, about a year and a half since the first chapter.

warnings: got s3-4 spoilers, canon typical violence but mostly in conversation, descriptions of injuries and death (brief), the classic lesbian ‘dancing around each other’

note: i told ya it would be slowburn :) sorry for the slow updates, college sucks and i am so behind because i keep getting overwhelmed and procrastinating

the news the king joffrey’s demise spread across the kingdoms with fury. little birds of your own running to send you word, quick hands tying notes to the bird. when a raven reached the camp, larkin was bobbing and weaving through the crowd. the red seal meant trouble, the kind that would likely cause the vein in your forehead to bulge and you to probably break something.

running into the tent, he comes to a screeching halt, a meeting progressive in front of him. your eyes look at him, he waves the notes, red seal on display. you wave him over frantically, meeting pausing just as fast as larkin entered.

commander-

the king is dead. poisoned. not sure who yet, but lord tyrion blamed. lady sansa missing. more to follow. suggest a move north.

- eoin

you read the note aloud, silence followed, everyone stunned. the glass to your right was thrown against the ground. this meant war was coming. winter was already drawing closer, but bloodshed was soon to come. the lannisters would never let this go.

eoin knew well of what move you’d make, you began the move north. it was slow, a complicated path to ward off unwanted followers. the weeks grew long, the desperation you felt for another raven was palpable. the further north we traveled, the harder it was word easily and discreetly.

orion brings a scroll, red wax, cloud pressed in.

commander-

your lady knight is leaving king’s landing within the week, looking for ladies sansa and arya. lannister man gave her a sword. moving north with a squire.

- rahim

the second you read the words ‘lady knight’ in fast., messy handwriting, your hands gripped the parchment a little tighter. a squire? had she been knighted, had they rightfully acknowledged her at last? you opt to ignore the use of ‘your’ in front of her nickname. instead you write a response, adding updated travel routes that will be followed, as well as advising the use of coded messages from now on. the scroll was passed to orion with directions of a new bird to land towards the east side of the city.

—

leaving the tavern with podrick and the wolf-shaped bread from hotpie left brienne with some semblance of hope. she could not save lady catelyn, but she could fulfill her promise and protect her daughters. if she ever found the bloody devils.

“where to now, my lady?” podrick asked, despite knowing the answer.

“north. if sansa fled, she’ll go somewhere familiar, to someone she trusts,” brienne was certain, and podrick nodded. he had only been under her service for a short time, but he had already gained large amounts of respect for her.

so north they went, and went, and went. brienne had been slowly teaching podrick to sword fight. he was nowhere near being able to defend himself, but the spirit was there. when the practice was over, they’d eat in silence. brienne wiped off her small knife, tucking it next to the horn that stayed in her storage. she hadn’t unraveled the sheathed dagger that was carefully knotted around the horn, afraid of acknowledging it, but keeping it near.

two months into her travels, she is awoken while stars still paint the sky. she rubs her eyes, growing slightly, she almost falls back asleep, assuming the noise was podrick or imaginary. but there it is again.

she sits up, hand automatically falling on her weapon. a blaring, deep in the woods. it’s far away, so the sound just barely reaching her ears. one more faint sound, then silence. and it remains. she lays back down, shaking her head to toss away the distractions. ‘probably some locals,’ she muses to herself, before falling asleep once again.

another month passes, and brienne swears she is being watched. she’s positive it isn’t her squire, he minds his business, and his stares don’t feel this imposing. a rustle in the trees above her caught her attention, but she saw nothing, she assumed it was animals of the forest. she looks around, but there’s still nothing. no one. she’s going crazy, is all she can think. ‘all this stark ladies business has driven me mad!’

—

a younger man in your company, dorin, comes rushing through the crowd, he’s walking, although very fast. he gracefully dodges each person, bumping into no one, uttering no words as he slithers between them.

he silently approaches you as you’re sitting on your desk. he likes to give people a scare when he can, but you notice him, turning and catching him off guard.

“what can i do you for, dorin?” you say without looking at him, smirking to yourself as you look a potential supply routes.

he clears his throat, “i spotted a tall woman, blonde. accompanied by a man, quite a bit shorter than the woman, with brown hair. a horse for each. and quite the fancy sword on her hip, but i could only see the hilt. not well given my altitude, still it looked beautifully crafted.” dorin’s reports always had perfect detail, he had climbing expertise, and he didn’t ask question as to why you had him survey the woods. he was perfect for the job.

“thank you dorin, that’ll be all. send ragnall to me on your way out,” you say diplomatically, hiding the giddiness that filled your chest.

“you called?” ragnall stood in the entrance.

you swing so your legs dangle off the desktop, “yes. gather two others and please nicely escort the travelers one hour east to of our camp. nicely. got it?” you raise and eyebrow.

“yes, commander,” he grumbles, hoping for something more exciting, but heads to follow orders. you jump off the desk, and move just outside the tent.

“boy!” you call out, hands cupped around your mouth. less than twenty seconds, and larkin was headed to you, stopping just before you. “ready two cots and make way for two horses, we got visitors in two,” and he’s off. and you’re patiently waiting in your tent, hands twisting and pulling at each other in your lap.

—

brienne was washing up when she heard podrick yell for her, she is quick to come to his aid. sword drawn, she stands protectively in front of podrick.

“what is your business here?” she asks, eyes stern and angry.

“lady brienne, we’re here to escort you to camp,” ragnall speaks first, hoping she’ll recognize him best. her sword immediately slides back into her scabbard.

the entire walk back to the camp her hands were sweating. she explained to pod meeting you with jaime, and how she found out about the skyforth. he listens carefully, and she’s careful not to talk to much about you. she does mention you’re from tarth, and that it was nice to know someone from there, easily explaining away any overflowing joy.

she saw the tents growing closer, the guards closest the opening moving to make way for everyone and the horses. her eyes darted around for the largest tent, with the large table and the desk you sat on instead of at. their horses were taking over to the others with a quick promise of their belongings being brought to their own tent. podrick looked to her for confirmation, she assured him it was okay, she trusted these men and their commander.

ragnall led her to the tent she had she looking for, her eyes unblinking as they approached. they stopped as ragnall lowered his head to enter the tent to announce their presence. she heard your voice say something, but couldn’t make it out. still, she bit back a smile, podrick did not notice.

ragnall’s arms opened the curtain. she took a breath and steadied her mind quickly, ducking into the tent, podrick behind her.

you. all black attire as she had assumed was your typical choice, your cour cloak was draped across a chair. you looked less imposing without it, but she knew that was not the case. you’re deadly, just like her, fierce like her, angry like her. but she knew you were soft underneath, she had seen it with larkin and a little with herself.

brienne. clad in castle armor, only lacking lannister lions on the pauldrons. a lion’s head pommel on her sword mad your fingers twitch, questions filled your head. all of them became fuzzy when your eyes moved to her face. her hair was lighter from the sun exposure of travel, freckles blooming on her cheeks. you took in a deep breath.

“brienne of tarth,” you step forward, arm extended to shake. she does so quickly, smiling gently.

“commander. let me introduce you to my traveling comp-” she hears him clear his throat behind her, “my squire, podrick.”

he sticks his arm out to you with a smile, but you speak before him, “podrick payne.” you shake is arm, chuckling at his shock of you knowing his name. you knew of him, your little birds had told you all about pod. and by just looking at him, you liked him already, he’s much better than not-so-pompous and thinks-he’s-pretty.

“it’s nice you have you back, lady brienne. and with a squire no less. have your talents finally been appreciated by the crown?” you ask with genuinely.

she lets out a dry laugh, “no, they haven’t. the armor and sword were a gift, to help me keep my promise to the late lady catelyn.”

“i was heartbroken to hear of her death. we only met once, but she was a kind and fierce woman. i pray to the gods for her and her children,” you look at the floor as you speak, then to brienne, “does your new sword have a name?”

she smiles, excited to speak of her new weapon, “oathkeeper.”

“a good title for both you and your sword,” she’s too stunned to respond, “hungry?” podrick nods happily.

—

podrick asks you loads of questions, most of which with a full mouth, you happily answer. after a minute, your eyes widen, dropping your fork as you scramble from the table. brienne’s thoughts catch up with yours. larkin. she hears your usual call for him.

before you’re even back at the table the boy is running in, faster than lightning. he had a huge, goofy smile on his face. brienne was shocked to see the boy a whole head taller since she had last seen him, no longer such a little boy.

“lady brienne!” he yells excitedly, almost running to hug her but sticks with sticking his arm out quickly. she returns it her equal passion.

“how are you larkin? how’s your training going?” she asks with real, genuine curiosity. you watched with a soft smile as he spoke with excitement, talking about everything and anything. brienne listened intently, nodding and asking questions. podrick noticed your smile, but only got half the reason.

“he your son?” he asks, no food in his mouth this go around.

you’re about to speak when you’re cut off by larkin, “pretty much.” your heart almost explodes in that moment, you won’t cry, you can’t, not until you’re alone. your nose twitches, and you grab your cup and large drink. brienne takes note of your rapid blinking that pushed back a wave of tears.

“um, larkin. you didn’t introduce yourself to podrick here, he used to squire for lord tyrion,” you change the subject to save your ego. podrick looks to brienne, who looks at you. how did you know that? she hadn’t told you that.

“wait, for the i-” now is your turn to cut off larkin.

“aye! don’t call him that boy, he doesn’t like it,” you look to brienne, “i know everything. little birds, you know this,” you read hers and pod’s faces easily. larkin had a million questions and so many things to say, and podrick was matching his enthusiasm.

“go show podrick the practice yard, he’s learning to sword fight as well,” you say, “you can talk all you want down there, give him a tour.” they leave immediately, even twice his age, pod had a childlike air about him.

there was tension in the silence, brienne wanted to break it, “how have you been?”

i swallowed and took a deep breath, “we’ve been traveling north, trying to stay as far away from the mess in king’s landing as possible. larkin told you about training, it’s just been moving i guess.”

“not what i asked. how have you been?” she leans towards you.

you can hardly look at her, “would it be bad to say ‘i have no fucking idea’?” you rotate the glass in your hand.

“no, i understand. i have been in the same position as of late,” she honest in her words. she’s felt a hole in the center of her chest all her life, one that felt like it was slowly filling in your presence.

“it’s good to see you again, brienne of tarth,” your eyes look into hers. she looks back.

“it’s good you see as well, no name of tarth,” she jests. “i believe i was promised your name upon our next meeting.”

“and i recall saying ‘maybe next time,’ did i not?” you get up from the table. she follows.

you walk down to her tent, giving her space to remove her armor, she knew it wasn’t necessary here. she kept her sword close, grounded by the security and weight of it against her hip. she emerges in her dark linen pants and blue tunic, and you’re sure her eyes couldn’t get any more blue. you kept your staring to a minimum, turning to continue the stroll. brienne stayed behind you for a moment, watching you now. your hair longer, not bothering to cut it while you traveled, the new scar on the back of your neck, disappearing underneath the collar of your shirt.

when she reached your side again, she took a second to take in your profile. the bags under your eyes visible, eyes straight ahead, jaw set. the world had been cruel since you last met, she could see that much. wooden swords clashing together broke her attention, seeing podrick and larkin practicing together. you and brienne both chuckled at larkin’s noticeable higher skill.

you kept walking, letting ‘the boys have their fun.’ you sat at the fire pit, brienne sits on the same log as you this time. you. it’s sit in comfortable silence now. she feels your staring, eyes fixed on left ear. your eyes traced the shell, where there was a light scar from your first encounter. she turned to face you, you look away, facing the fire once again.

“i like it, you know. the scar. it’s a nice reminder,” she says.

you laugh, “you like that i threw a dagger at you?”

“not at all. i like that i won’t forget meeting you.”

you liked this as well, a permanent reminder of you with her. you only wish you had more that memories to remember her. you relied on memories of the flames lighting up her face, orange fire making her turn golden. you thought about her often when you couldn’t sleep, which seemed to be most nights as of late.

“you seemed to have accidentally left something in my stores,” she jokes.

“i was wondering when you’d mention that,” you sound nervous, and you continue quietly, “i was hoping you may hear the horns one and respond.”

it all made sense. she had heard you a month ago, calling, sending word to others, it was a call to bring others to you. to bring them home. she didn’t mention it, not wanting you to know she had failed you.

“i found my way regardless. how did you find me?”

“dorin. he’s quite the climber,” you watched her face twist, then fall. she had felt herself being watched the last time she was here, she never thought you’d have spies in the trees. you messengers in the capital being so well hidden made more sense.

“i’d gotten word of a certain lady knight leaving king’s landing, with a squire, no less. we were already headed north, as were you. i hoped our paths would cross, and maybe i willed it myself,” your voice is happy, but you still don’t look at her. she didn’t want to admit that your words had her heart racing, that you made her weak.

“i’m glad you did,” and you both just enjoy each other’s company.

supper comes, and podrick and larkin return, sweaty and covered in dirt. larkin stands next to the table as podrick moves fo sit down.

“were you raised by pigs?” you question. “go wash that shit off you before either of you sits down in one of my chairs,” larkin is quick to run at the aspect of sitting with everyone. brienne tilts her head towards podrick, he turns and follows the other boy.

“and they say women are the ones that who need orders to follow,” brienne says, and you laugh heartily. she bathes in the sound, a sound she caused. she wanted to hear your laugh again and again, and even more after that.

you look at her from across the table, face unreadable, “will you leave tomorrow?”

if her heart wasn’t already racing, oh gods would it be running for it’s life. she suppresses a shakiness that is migrating from her hands to her voice, “i think pod and i are quite weary from our travels, we may stay an extra night. just so we’re well-rested, of course.”

“of course,” you smile.

—

in the morning hours, brienne is greeted with a sight that almost tears her lungs from her chest. you were dressed down, no longer in your uniform. instead, black pants and grey tunic rested upon you, tunic untied at the top. your hair was wet, dampening the collar of your shirt. a dagger was still tethered to your thigh, you were never without one it seemed, an extension of you. you looked calm, peaceful even. no one else was awake, you had no responsibilities right now.

she approaches you, hoping you wouldn’t catch her admiring you. your content face grows a smile, crinkles around your eyes deepening. brienne was beautiful. no one could convince you otherwise, if they disagreed they must be blind, or dense, or both. she’s wearing a darker blue tunic, making her eyes look brighter. the sapphire in her irises encrusting your heart.

“good morning, commander,” she says slyly.

“good morning, lady brienne. sleep well?” you meet her halfway, only about a foot of space between you both. you smelled like honey and pine.

“best sleep i’ve had in months, truly. this is the first bed that hasn’t been made of leave or reeked of piss,” she says dryly, humor evident in her eyes.

“i’m glad. last you were here, you couldn’t sleep. i guess it’s because you’re no longer around strangers.”

“definitely not. except for you, i still haven’t got your name,” she wants to know, no, needs to know. she wants to say your name, to think of you more than just ‘the commander.’

you wanted to hear her say your name, but years of hiding had made your skin thick and your distrust in people thicker. you trusted her, but not the rest. “soon,” is all you say. she takes this answer, knowing she wouldn’t get another for a while.

you move away from her, eyes still on her face. she followed as you began walking, all the way to the tree line. you looked at her, silently asking if she wanted to come with you. she nodded, she thinks she’d follow you anywhere.

walking in the woods with you was peaceful. the crunching of sticks beneath you, the wet leaves dampening the sound of your footsteps. everything is quite, light, pretty. brienne feels like she left her stresses behind her at the tree line, all her doubts were in the tall grass. she stands behind as watches as you move slowly, crouching behind a tree, your movements carry no noise. she tries to move closer, but you look at her sharply, and she stays still. she watches you move quickly, hand going to your ankle, dagger out and thrown quickly. a large bird falls from branch across the stream.

you spring up from your spot, quickly and expertly crossing over the stream on slippery stones to retrieve the bird. you come back the way you left, holding up your prize to brienne, a satisfied smile on your face.

“breakfast for two, m’lady?” you ask with a bow, then begin walking. she laughs at your words, following you back to camp.

“how could i say no to that?”

getting back to camp meant getting back when everyone had risen. podrick was with larkin again, both shooting arrows into hay bale targets, both missing miserably. the bird was grabbed by a man who strolled by, yelling ‘gimme an hour’ over his shoulder. the camp was lively, brienne smiled to herself. it felt like home.

—

nightfall reached the camp, different groups stay around the different fires. the chatting, laughter, and music carried brienne around as she searched for you. after breakfast you had disappeared to discuss future plans with the leading men of skyforth, leaving brienne to fill the time without you. she wished she could have gotten more time to see the green of the forest paint your face. she almost wished you had been unsuccessful in your hunt, selfishly wishing she could have wandered beside you for just a moment longer. what has gotten into me?

she sits at fire, losing herself in the flames. she watches the dancing of light a little longer, feeling someone’s presence. she doesn’t have to look to know it’s you, but she does anyways, just to see you. you look at her just as intently, sitting to her left.

she meets your eyes, one concealed in darkness, the other shining in the fire’s light. she looks back to the flames. your eyes stay on her, she feels them searching her, the attention crawling on her like a gentle ladybug. her feels ears warm as she feels your eyes stay there, she blames it on the fire. that is until she sees a hand slowly rising to the shell of her ear. your fingers graze over her scar with a feather-light touch, the scar you put there. you were so gentle, brienne almost thought she was imagining it. she turned and look at your face, lips turned down, crease between your eyebrows prominent. you were ashamed of yourself for hurting her, no matter what she said earlier.

brienne’s hand comes to grab the one by her ear, holding your hand to display your scarred knuckles to her. she could she little ones around your fingers, faded and old, likely from your days before being a master of the dagger. she liked those ones, but the deeper ones, she hated.

“ask whatever you want,” you spoke softly, “i can feel your mind working, can practically see it too.”

her thumb runs over your knuckles, a question in itself. you answered, “most are from fighting, first one was when i was was taken from tarth, last was about two months after you parted. i try to keep my distance, but sometimes i’m impatient.”

she laughs lightly, trying not to break this quiet moment. she’s already about to burst at the seams from holding your hand, and you’re in the same condition in your own mind. you’re so focused on not shaking, that your haven’t stopped staring at her eyes in the orange glow. they were crystalized sapphire seas gifted to her, the only one worthy enough to be trusted.

“which one was the worst?” brienne asks, her voice is careful. you wince are the thought, pulling your hand from hers to move your cloak away and lift your tunic. just below your left ribs was a large, jagged scar, it was clear that the injury had been deep. brienne resists the urge to trace your scar as you did hers, her hands twitching.

you lower the tunic back down, “we got raided four years ago. assholes just went straight for the kids, so i threw myself in there. got four out of five down, last one got me with my own blade, took it from my back.” you take a deep breath, “he went for the kids, so i took the knife out and slit his throat. larkin and two others had to carry me out to the healers. they were just little babes, they shouldn’t have had to do that.”

brienne places a hand on your knee giving it squeeze, “they were able to save you because you saved them. they know you’d never let anything happen to them.” your hand sits atop hers and squeezes back, a silent ‘thank you.’

“i may ask you anything?” she clarifies, already knowing what she needs to know. the only thing she had been thinking about for a year.

you lean forward ever-so-slightly and whisper, “anything.”

“what’s your name?” she whispers back, she almost feels like she’s learning your deepest, most damning secret.

you close your eyes and huff a laugh through your nose, you knew she’d ask. you look back up to answer, but a large gust of laughter bursts your bubble. you’re both suddenly aware of other people moving closer. drinking hour has begun for the men, and the children are playing pretend with the practice swords. podrick was sitting with everyone, pretending he hadn’t been watching you and brienne every now and then, only being able to you slightly around her shoulder.

as everyone’s approaching the fire, you whisper the answer she’s being dying for. she reads your lips, going to test the name on her own tongue. your hand covers her mouth, free hand making a shushing motion, laughing behind your finger. you can feel her grin beneath your hand and it overwhelms you. you quickly take away your hand.

podrick sits himself on a log near you both, brienne’s eyes snap to him and are practically screaming ‘not a word.’ he just takes a sip of ale. ragnall brings you and brienne each a drink. he bends down to speak to you quietly, his words only traveling to your ears.

“don’t get too attached, commander. she’s here for bed and meal, nothing else. she’s leaving tomorrow and war is brewing,” you shove him harshly away from you, and he walks away, knowing you’d tell him to ‘piss off’ anyways. you visibly deflate, but take a strong sip to drown his words. brienne is enraged by him taking your smile so quickly, how quickly doubt clouded your eyes from his words. she wants to ask, but you shake your head.

“it’s nothing, he’s a killjoy,” you say as if it were nothing, but the shake of your leg gave you away. you press you palm into your knee to still it’s motion, brienne is confident she now despises ragnall. she’s not the only one who notices your mood plummet, because before she can even think of what to do, larkin jogs over.

“commander, could we do dagger practice? i want to learn throwing in the dark,” he tugs the sleeve of your upper arm. you stand immediately, arm wrapping around him shoulder.

“pinch me i’m dreaming,” you say as you squeeze the boy into you, hugging him tightly as he laughs, “did i just hear that you want to throw daggers? willingly?” you pull away and pretend to inspect him, angling his head is odd directions as he laughs, “are you sure you aren’t a witch, a shapeshifter?”

brienne watches the scene before her with a smile. how easily your spirits were lifted by someone you loved, especially this parental love you felt for larkin. she could never make you smile this much, she knows that larkin is the only one who can, but she wants to get close regardless. podrick watches brienne look at you, he finds himself sad for her that they have to leave in the morning. he knows there’s something more, and he knows brienne will ignore it as long as possible.

larkin begins to drag you, your voice carries over your shoulder, “you two coming or not?”

the four of you go to the targets. your demeanor changes from parent to teacher quite quickly. podrick attempts to throw into the target as well, missing terribly, while larkin’s land on the outer rings. yours create a horizontal line, one in the middle and one on each side. brienne throws a single dagger, she hits the target towards the bottom, but ‘at least hit she hit it,’ as pod grumbled put it.

larkin headed off to bed as the sky became devoid of light, podrick went for another drink and to warm by the fire. this left you and brienne at the targets. she watched you throw dagger after dagger, each hitting its destination as if you were moving it with your mind. you had covered the target almost completely, none of the daggers touching. she walked with you to retrieve them all, helping you silently.

“what did ragnall say to you?” she asks, breaking the tense silence. you paused for a moment, then continued.

“nothing of importance. he’s all work, no fun,” you grunt as you pull the center dagger out. the ones in the center were deep, some were down to the wood in the middle of the targets. “i’m sorry, i just… he’s an ass, and he knows how to make me cross,” is all you can say.

“i’ve got my own one of those,” brienne jests, trying to lift the mood.

“ah yes, but he’s all the way in king’s landing. mine is practically up my ass every time i think about sitting down,” you point a knife at him from across the camp, pretending to throw it, “prick.”

she laughs at your childish behaviors, “i think we should head back to everyone else.”

you roll your eyes, “and i think that if i’m within five feet of that ferret, i’ll choke him. i’ll stay right here.” brienne barks a laugh at your words, moving to grab a torch off the side of a nearby tent to light the small fire pit by the targets.

“would anyone question you for doing so? you’re the commander,” she says with a joking tone.

“probably not, but don’t tempt me, lady brienne. i have very little self-control,” you say back, sitting down next to the fire. brienne’s mouth shuts quickly, and she moves to sit with you.

she blames the heat rushing to her cheeks on the flames once again. she grows brave and responds, eyes coming back to your face, “maybe i should continue then.” she smiles at your eyes lighting up.

brienne’s mouth moves faster than her mind, “what did you mean the time we saw each other?”

your eyes fell to your lap, “i said a lot of things, be more specific.”

“that you know your own thoughts,” she wants to how if you see her the same as she sees you, all encompassing.

“stories people make up, men make up, when they feel small, are nothing of importance. i’ve met you, spoken to you, seen you,” your words make brienne feel a little sick, “so far the only truly thing they’ve said is that you’re tall, and from tarth. two things!” she looks at her hands, her mind raging against her.

you lean and grab her hand, “you are not a beast,” she looks at you, “or ugly, or any of that shit they dare say about you. they’re intimidated by you, you’re powerful and alluring,” you’re speaking from your heart it seems, “if you asked me, i would say you’re quite beautiful, perhaps handsome even.”

brienne tried not to think about it much as she fell asleep. she definitely didn’t think about you holding her hand and calling her beautiful and handsome. or the shy smile you gave her that made her heart squeeze in her chest, breath shaking with each exhale. or how you held her hand for an hour until you got up to smother the fire. or how you walked her to her tent and said goodnight to her quietly, like it was a secret message from you to her. or how you looked back as you walked away, lingering there for a moment.

—

the next morning, you stare at the roof of your tent for gods know how long. if you didn’t leave the tent, she wouldn’t go, right? of course she would, she has an oath to keep, a you tell your selfish mind. you rise, putting on your uniform, the weight of your cloak holding you together.

once you step out of your private tent, larkin is by your side in minutes. he’s quiet, much like last time. you had both grown fond of brienne, and he now had a friend in podrick, making this goodbye harder. your arm sits around his shoulders, muttering to him as you walked around to get breakfast.

larkin’s mood lifts upon seeing his new friend, jogging over to pod and talking animatedly. brienne was sitting a bit away, lost in thought as she ate. you looked her for a moment, taking in the sight of the morning sun casting a dream of light across her face, lighting her up like an angel. you moved to go sit with her, grabbing a pear from the center of a tablet you passed. you sit across from her, and bite into your snack as you wait for her to notice you.

brienne here’s a soft crunch near her, head rising until her eyes meet you. tired eyes, pear in hand, hair still down, you were quite a sight to her. she just smiled lightly while looking at you, you returned it. neither of you spoke, just sitting together, enjoying the last moments before she departed.

you feel eyes on you, turning to see ragnall with pointed eyes, staring holes into your skull. brienne sees your brows furrow, hand going to your ankle. before she can even say ‘don’t,’ a dagger flies through the air and buries itself into the beam he’s resting against, only a hair above his head.

“pay mind to your own business, ya owl-looking fuck. blink once in a while, won’t you?” you seethe, and brienne sees a similar anger from the first time she met you and smiles to herself. the men around ragnall laugh at your comment, one pulling the dagger out and bringing it to you with a ‘nice one.’

brienne finishes her food as you slowly finish your pear. you leave the food tent walking towards the horses, and she follows behind you. your hand comes up to the face of a light brown horse with white splotches across him, he nibbles at you hand in greeting. you grab a folded parchment, grabbing her hand and placing it there, palm flat over it.

“these are preliminary travel routes. they’ll probably change, but you’ll probably still be able to track us down. if- if you wan- if you needed to,” you pull your hands away, locking them behind your back.

brienne looked at the parchment, then you. her voice is soft, “thank you. maybe one day it won’t come to tracking each other down.”

“maybe there will be a time where we travel with each other instead of away,” you almost mumble. brienne’s heart almost couldn’t take it, the way you stared at your feet while you spoke and fluttered your eyelashes. gods, i hope so.

“maybe,” she says back, eyes never leaving you.

saying goodbye to you was going to be harder than last time, she didn’t want to say anything. she wishes she had left before you woke up, so you wouldn’t be able to see the homesickness in her eyes as she got further from you. she lead her horse to the front of the camp while you lead podrick’s, eyes catching each other’s every now and then.

larkin was with podrick, listening closely to whatever he had to say. you looked to brienne, “use the horn, will you? if i start following you now, you’ll never get rid of me.”

she smiles at your words, her voice speaks lowly, “who said i was opposed to that?” your brow raises, eyes looking directly into her. you’re about to comment back, but podrick and larkin make their way over.

you settle for, “goodbye, lady brienne,” you turn, “podrick. safe travels to you both, may we see each other again soon.”

she and podrick hoist themselves onto their horses. she looks at you, her eyes raking over your face, you had hardly slept either it seems.

“thank you, commander,” she smiles tightly, “i’m sure you’ll find a way to keep an eye on us.”

you laugh, “who says i don’t already?”

you approach her horse, petting him gently and you speak to brienne, “i mean it, use that horn if there’s any trouble, if you need anything. even just a meal and a bed, doesn’t have to be battle. please, just… just use the damn horn.”

she leans closer to you, “i promise you,” you’re trying so hard not to faint from the closeness, “and i don’t break promises.”

i said slowburn did i not? also if anyone else would like to be tagged in part 3 (there might be a part 4) just leave a lil comment on here :) feed back appreciated, love ya

tags: @another-unoriginal-username @the-bagel24

[tgmsunmontue]

Tell me what to write weekend... (it's a 5-day weekend for me!)

My weekend starts today so hit me up... (I am also working on Bingo fics and also on my very VERY old Glee WIPS - along with the whole attempt at having a life and being a responsible adult gig - which this weekend includes baking and boardgames).

(Instructions on how this works under the cut - most of you know how this goes...) (Looing to update Once Upon a Time in 1996 in the next 24 hours...)

NUMBERS:

Once Upon a Time in 1996 - IceMav TimeLoop

More than Movie Magic - Hangster Hollywood AU

CURRENT LETTERS:

B) Sagas of Solitude/WIP B- IceMav with side Hangster AU

C) To wake, perchance to dream - Hangster - beginning of the fic

F) Online and Anonymous - Hangster (Tumblr post)

H) Ice/Mav epistolary fic

I) Life is too short to waste time matching socks... - Hangster

J) Team Player - Hangster

K) Transformers cross-over - Hangster & IceMav

X) Another Time one-shot/continuation

Y) Cyclone/Maverick from Take more chances

Z) Javy/Bob/Nat from Take more chances

BINGO - Hangster Ranch AU

BINGO - IceMav Florist/Undercover Agent AU

You pick 1-3 of the above and either:

reply

Message

Send an ask (Anon is on)

with the letters/Numbers of the fic/s you wish would hurry up and get finished/posted already. (Yes, you can pick the same one three times - some of these fics are that close to getting finished that would be enough to tip them over, you also don't have to pick more than one).

Numbers indicate fics I am consciously working on updating/completing, and likely have a completion date in mind.

Letters indicate fics that are often getting completed because people ask for me to work on them through things like this. (I usually do this every weekend).

Asterisks represent fics that are most likely soon to become numbered fics.

Doing this keeps me on task and makes me accountable. It stops me from procrastinating and I really appreciate people providing their numbers.

THANK YOU!

[abiogenesiis]

ive been having the most MASSIVE royallectureshipping brainrot everyday i wake up and i think about the fic im planning to write but i keep procrastinating BUT I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS.

i could talk about them sm. i don't want to mention anything crazy regarding it rn so no spoils but YEAH. ive been super inspired by @asavt and their royallecture art so BIG THANK YOU ASA !!

but the premise of my fic is basically.. three months after the PML arc, lear continues his duties as prince in pasio, while cheren went back to unova to resume his own as gym leader and teacher at the trainer's school.

lear's been alright for the most part, rachel and sawyer are happy about his improvement. in these three months, he and cheren have been apart, yet he still keeps in touch with him via text messages and phone calls. even after the PML, and defeating team break and saving hoopa – the concept of friendships and bonds is something lear's not quite used to yet.

so, he's kinda thinking about his relationships with others.. until he gets to cheren. i mean, it's literally the guy that played a huge role into having lear have a change of heart, and so. he has a lot of respect for him, and so do rachel and sawyer.. even though he's not used to throwing the "friend" term around yet.

but now that there's distance between them, lear finds himself missing cheren. the feeling isn't completely unfamiliar to him, it just feels.. different. strange..

anyway speak of the devil, guess who makes a surprise visit back to pasio because a little birdie told him lear's coronation was back into preparation?? (lear told him about it once)

with cheren's return, lear finds himself in a pickle when his feelings about him begin to shift, and he doesn't know why or what they are, and is caught between that and being crowned king and some ✨️parent issues✨️ and oh boy shenanigans ensue!!

THAT IS ALL ILL SAY IVE ALREADY YAPPED A LOT. the fic will be called "crowning glory" and ill be incorporating a bit of flower themes and will (hopefully) be uploaded to ao3 once i get THE FLIPPING PROLOGUE AND MAYBE THE FIRST CHAPTER DONE!!

and so, stay tuned! 💙💜