#and i had that abusive friend making it worse for me the whole time
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kawhh · 2 days ago
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I apologise in advance. I'm on a Jack binge. A Jack being manipulative towards his innocent friend binge. Enjoy.
1.9k words.
Warnings: Jack being manipulative, 'forcing' you into situations. Abusing your emotions. Non-con in a way. You aren't aware of what's going on.
He'd taken a hard knock into the boards at the end of a long roadie. Brushed off the medical staff even though his whole side is painted black and blue. Every step makes him hiss, biting his jersey and lip to not alert anyone to how bad he is.
Struggling through the pain to dress after the game, shoving the loosest clothing he owns on his body, not having the strength to squeeze into something.
Side throbbing so much that it feels like a burn, every accidental touch against the bruises feeling like it's being prodded with an branding stick.
He's just missed you. Needs to visit you. He can't have the medical staff holding him back, wanting to assess him. He'll be fine. He can cope, he's had worse. Just needs to get to your place. You'll take care of him. He'll get to see you adorably worried about him, playing nurse.
You'll be all over him, touching his bare skin, innocently feeling him up.. he's taking that over the medical staff all day.
Texting you on the way out of the locker room, giving you plenty of warm up time to panic. Not answering your follow up texts, wanting to see the pure panic on your face when he gets there.
Resting his head on the steering wheel in the parking lot, trying to breathe through the pain. Getting to you is gonna be horrific. Every single time he moves his leg it's going to strain his side. Every arm movement that makes him stretch is going to sting.
He just has to keep reminding himself that it's worth it. Every second of suffering.
He's staggering up to your door, feeling a little dizzy and disorientated, resting on the door before he knocks. He barely has to wait.
You're so cute.. the tears streaming down your face for him when you see how banged up and exhausted he is. He's playing it up a bit, hanging his head, moaning in pain. You're so delicate when you try and lead him to the couch, hesitating to even touch you.
Letting himself fall back when he's close enough, using it as a reason to lightly drag his hand down your body. He's just trying to find his balance, obviously.
Lifting the edge of his shirt, hiding his smirk as he sees your face light up red, your hands trembling. A glimpse of his abs and you're already like this? You don't even know what's coming.. he almost feels bad. Almost.
"Angel, need you to help.. can't reach that far down. You'll help me, yeah? You got any of those ice packs I left here last time?"
You're rushing off in a panic, almost tripping as you run to grab a pack, blushing deeper at the thought of having to touch him, having to be that close to his.. thing.
Stripping his shirt off fully when you're gone, not wanting you to realise that he's already feeling better than when he left the arena. You need to think he's a wreck.
He's pulling you closer, staring up at you, eyes half-lidded as you stress about touching him, just letting it happen. You're cute enough to eat. The flush is slowly advancing down your chest. Stammering before you hold the ice pack against his skin. That gets a real hiss out of him.
He can't resist reaching up to lightly tug the strand of hair falling down your face.
"That.. that wasn't so bad, was it? Am I really that awful to touch?"
He can barely hide his smirk as you rush to apologise, resting your hand on more of his skin as a way of apologising.
"Hey.. d'me a favour? It's kind of personal.. so if you're really against touching me, I won't be mad."
He can't help it. You're so easy to tease. You almost look like you're gonna cry, he's pretty sure those are tears forming in your eyes. You really do think you're being cruel to him while he's banged up.. so innocent, so gullible. You're nodding like a bobblehead. Wanting to do anything for him.
"Can you.. can you help me in the shower? Didn't get the chance to have one before I left.. it'll help with the soreness."
He's slinging his arm around your neck before you can even fully agree. Tightening his grip a little just to see you panic and react. Putting more weight on you than he needs, wanting to force you closer to him. You're having to wrap an arm around his waist. Your touch feels like a brand on his skin, it's addicting.
Stumbling together towards the shower, you're resting him up against the shower wall. He can't let you go that easy. Can't just let you leave now. You'll have too much time to think. Too much time to startle.
"Angel.. I'm feeling dizzy, can you.. can you stay in here? The shower's massive.. can you come sit in here? You won't get wet. If you don't, I might fall..."
He can see how hesitant you are, but the threat of him injuring himself is enough for you to be fighting against your embarrassment. He knows you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if he was hurt. He'll even stumble a little bit against the wall, holding his head like he's in distress.
You look like a little bunny, the way you slowly walk over, sitting as far away from him as you can get in the shower. How small you look on the floor.. the way you can barely look at him.
"Can you.. can you help me strip? Hurts too much when I try and pull my pants off..?"
The way you squeak in panic is intoxicating. The way your hand shakes as you reach out, terrified that you'll accidentally expose him. The way your cheeks puff out in concentration.
"Don't worry.. I'll keep my boxers on. Wouldn't want to traumatize my best friend now would I?"
Resting against the shower wall, hair covering his face as he watches you. Observes. You're trying so hard to not look at his dick. Have you even seen one before? Ever been like this with someone? Is he the first to share this with you? He's getting hard just thinking about it.
Turning on the water to try and calm himself down, hoping he can calm down what's surely a clear tent in his boxers. Even the sound of the water makes you startle, you're so on edge.
"Angel... can you.. can you come closer? The wall isn't enough.. I'm gonna fall."
You're slowly creeping towards him like he's a predator. Every inch you move makes it harder for you to avoid looking at him. Harder for you to ignore his cock. The way you're flushing only confirms his theories. The feel of you against his legs, the way you rest against them.. head filling with dangerous thoughts as you look at up at him, all wide eyed.
Would you look up at him like that if he just.. forced you to suck him off? If he just.. locked the bathroom door and caged you in. Told you that it'd make him feel better. Would you cry if he slapped your face with his cock? Would you even be able to look at him? Would you choke? Fuck.. you'd look so cute.
"Here.. you're getting wet. Why don't you sit more between my legs? Can't have you getting sick while you're being such a good friend, taking care of me."
He's forcing you in with his hand, feeling your head rest against his thigh. Struggling to hold back a laugh at how his cock is basically resting on your head at this point. He can't see your face now but he bets it's priceless. You aren't even trying to squirm away. Too afraid that he'll fall.. thinking he's not doing it on purpose.
He'll let you calm down for now.. as much as you can. Taking his time washing his hair, enjoying the feel of you. Washing his body in your usual scent, making sure that you're directly under the suds that wash off. He needs you soaked for later..
"Close your eyes f'me a sec? Need to wash under my boxers.."
He's reaching past his waistband before your eyes are even fully closed, half resting his hand against your head as he grips himself tightly.
Slowly dragging his hand up and down his cock, feeling his hand drag against your head at the same time. Slow enough to not raise too many flags in your innocent little mind. You're too nervous to open your eyes, to question why he's taking so long. Scared to ask what the occasional noise is..
What if he.. with how innocent you are.. could he pretend that it's shower gel? Could he..?
He's lowering his boxers to give him more room before he can fully think it through. It'll be fine. You won't open your eyes. He's basically fucking his fist now. His head throbbing. Pre-cum drenching his hand. Fuck. Even that's falling on your hair.. look so pretty already. Mixing with the water falling on you, watching it follow the curves of your body.. he can't hold back.
He's cumming in his fist, watching it drip through his fingers, watching it land on you. His. His fucking girl. His girl being soaked by him. You don't even make a noise. You're clearly his. Fuck, what'd he give you fully cum on your face. To make you watch. To fuck it into your mouth with his fingers.. baby steps.
Tipping his head back against the cold shower walls, needing the chill to help keep his head straight. You're so pure. Friends.. he can't help the smirk that forms on his face. You really think friends do this.. so adorable.
He's dragging his boxers back up, needing to look at your face again. Needing to see if there's any cum on your face. Needing to try something new with you.
"Angel.. you can open your eyes now. I feel a little better, just needed the hot water to relax."
The way you're looking up at him almost sets him off again. Most of it's washed off.. but there's enough still on your body to make him feel feral. Dragging his tongue across his lip as he watches it wash off into the drain.
"You got a little dirty... can I.. wash you off? I don't want your skin getting dry from the suds."
The cum's made him more impatient, forcing you up from your knees. His half-lidded gaze returning, fully focus on you, grabbing your chin to make you look at him.
"Such a good friend to me.."
Grabbing your leg, forcing it up against his non-injured side, making you squeak as you wrap your hands around his waist, trying to keep your balance. Edging his hands up your thigh.. resting his fingers where your thighs end.. rubbing against the lace trim of your underwear.
"Shhh, shhh, I'm just.. cleaning you up. You've got suds here. Stay very, very still."
Sliding his fingers past the line, stretching them out, an inch away from touching your cute pussy.. slowly stroking. Hovering his finger over your hole, pushing in slightly before withdrawing, snapping your underwear back in place. Giving your ass the littlest slap.
"There's my good girl.. all cleaned up. So lucky to have a friend like you.."
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britneyshakespeare · 1 year ago
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i wish i didn't get immovably anxious every time i even think about taking a covid test
#low key i have so much trauma from when i had covid this year#and the test was a big part of it#i mean i ALWAYS got anxious when i would test myself before. don't get me wrong#but in march when i had it. i took one test and it took the full fifteen minute for the FAINTEST test line to appear#and i mean SO faint i wasn't sure i was looking at it right or if it was a shadow#i asked kaily what she thought and she reassured me 'i mean. why not just take a second' (which i knew was the right thing anyway)#(but nobody likes taking covid tests especially if youre me)#and then i scrubbed a little extra hard on the second test immediately after and it turned bright red within minutes#and i wasnt that sick yet but the next few days were Terrible for me#and of course realizing i was covid positive made me so unhappy.#just dread. that whole time was dread#and i had that abusive friend making it worse for me the whole time#it was like i was taking care of him while i was so sick i couldnt move#and he knew it. god i hate him so much#he can go to hell. he was also very dismissive of my symptoms and needs#even while i had covid and was recovering from it afterward#despite the fact i was an angel to him while he was going through his own covid experience... which he pretended he was grateful for#and could never reciprocate. wow i hate him so much!#complaining about what an awful guy he was is making me less anxious now. cuz im mad#tales from diana#anyway it came out negative but i still feel uneasy because i have a million tiny reasons why im always sure ill get a false negative#even though all i have right now is. a SLIGHTLY sore throat.#and very very very high anxiety. but that's been about work tomorrow#i dont wanna talk anymore byyyye
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here-there-were-dragons · 7 months ago
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i have to wonder what super hardcore militant vegans think should be done about obligate carnivore animals, because in all my painfully-rapidly-approaching-30-years i've literally never actually seen anyone give a clear consistent much less halfway feasible answer on that
#mostly i've just seen like “how dare you ask questions you just want an excuse to murder you're sealioning ect”#or worse some vague and wildly improbable nonsense about like. fake robot animals covered in beyond meat or something equally convoluted#which is a thing i did see someone suggest as a serious answer#i mean i already know they think i'm a genetically inferior hateful vampire that should starve to death for the greater good#because my exact combination of health conditions make meat basically the only semi-safe way i can get close to enough nutrients#i know this because they have repeatedly told me that i'm either evil or should be sacrificed or both#and yelled at me for asking questions by bringing up the whole disabled thing and then they're like#“a lot of vegans i know are advocates for disability!” as if that ever means jack shit in the society that results from anything#no matter what you do a vast majority of people in any given society will *not* be advocates for the disabled. i'm sorry they just won't.#and what do you think public perception of people who physically can't survive like that is going to skew towards#in a society founded on the belief that non-vegan diets are evil?#at absolute best we're looking at being a heavily marginalized class generally seen as something like vampires and our existences taboo.#(as if these type's own insistence that they should be allowed to harass and shame people doesn't disprove their assertion that we won't be#thinking it could possibly go any better than that is a fucking fairy tale. human nature doesn't work that way.#you simply cannot eliminate the human desire to designate and abuse a class of have-nots. the absolute best you can do is mitigate damage.#take it from someone who's been multiple kinds of disabled and chronically ill all my life. people will not “just”. ever.#i get this even from people who are otherwise very aware of and VERY GOOD at avoiding this sort of thinking#“i'm a disability advocate!” no you are not. you are a poster. my experience has taught me that what people advocate for in their free time#means precisely jack shit for how they will actually act when faced with the situations they make otherwise rational posts about#and the fact of the matter is even if you somehow really are the perfect disability advocate a majority of people WILL NOT BE YOU.#a majority of people in society will be margrat from accounting who clutches her pearls when she sees the gays and thinks autism isnt real#and who has never had a nuanced thought in her life and actively does not want to#a vast majority of people in your Vegan Utopia will not be you and your friends who march with wheelchair users and volunteer at the shelte#a vast majority of people in your Vegan Utopia will be jenny who starved 8 cats to death on broccoli because she can't be bothered#and who thinks that “carnivores” are actual nazis and don't deserve healthcare because she saw someone say that online.#ALWAYS assume your society will be made up mostly of the worst kind of person it can because it WILL ALWAYS BE TRUE and you can't change it#most people seek the low-effort option. and evil is most often banal and low-effort.#i'm just so fucking tired of every single even vaguely lefty-adjacent political movement simultaneously acting like i don't fucking exist#and at the same time that i need to be sacrificed to achieve Utopia. god. at least conservative whackjobs are upfront and honest about#how they think that i'm a burden on society that needs to be Eugenics'd . rather than trying to morally gaslight me about it.
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snekdood · 3 months ago
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i think ppl were hoping me becoming poor would make me as bitter as they are but... nah
#i move about the world different sorry#i have my reasons to be upset but i dont let it consume me and become my personality#going to therapy ever since i was like 12 has done wonders for me#you hafta realize that- i could- if i discarded all my values and desire for wellbeing- probably get whatever money from my dad.#my conservative dad who wants me to not be myself and would probably try to black mail me about it like he did when i was a kid#you dont understand how much i have to hate someone. to not be around someone. to PREFER to be poor than interact with them.#im by no means comfortable. sometimes i have periods of comfort other times i have no money and barely anything to eat.#id rather starve than go back to that abuse. you might feel different but thats bc like i said i move about the world different.#you dont know what that abuse was like. after experiencing it you might choose the same.#and no i personally dont consider that me 'having options'. i really dont see sacrificing myself and living as a shell of my former self#as an option personally. its either die by starving or die by sacrificing myself and quite frankly atp im choosing the former.#ive already tried the latter and hated every second of it every time#the only bitterness i have about being poor rn is at yall who wanted me to become poor. so no. it didnt work out in your favor.#not sure why you thought it would. i hate yall.#dont get me wrong- i hate the rich too for this- but ig i dont see them as subhuman or whatever since i lived like that#the uberwealthy though? yeah idk. still dont like the nazi rhetoric of calling them subhuman but i dont have any real#sympathy for them. most of my sympathy for rich ppl anyways is when they're kids and how that fucks em up but if they become#corrupt selfish adults i dont have sympathy for them atp.#and to be clear- im not saying the benefits of having money somehow hurts them- there are negatives to it though if your parents#suck and think buying you things = love. and make you dependent on your parents bc you've had everything taken care of for#you your whole life so you have no real life skills so you cant as easily leave. which is worse if your parent is abusive.#also dealing with other rich kids? sucks! depends but it almost always feels like a dick measuring contest.#being isolated your whole life + not knowing how to take care of yourself- the number 1 thing animals teach their children first +#not having any genuine friends + not receiving genuine love? kinda turns ppl into super villains ngl#if i didnt have dogs who taught me a lot of shit id probably be a super villain too ok lmao
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gor3sigil · 7 months ago
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Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.
I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.
Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.
I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.
5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.
I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.
I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.
I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.
I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.
I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.
But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.
I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.
It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.
If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.
Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.
It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.
You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.
Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.
Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.
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b0mblover · 10 months ago
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Hate, in Every Sense of the Word.
By: J
major tws for; suicide mention, domestic abuse, abuse, sexual assult mention, murder mention, (really just alot of violence tbh) self harm mention
uh, sorry? that theres so many tws, ig also minor tw for mention of sex too.
uh haha i uh, can you tell what happened tonight? it wasnt even the worst one, just, im tired of it.
talk abt living out of spite bc mannnn, thats all i been going off of for a good while now!
i uh, i really wanna make a certain food bc um. (LOOK I WANNA MAKW A LESS OILY FUCKER OKAY) but my father is awake meaning my mother will be too soon but im scared to even go out of my room bc theyre prob gonna fighttt.
hhhrbd okok ill shut up for now, go ahead and read the angry jirou bullshit ig 😭
(oh yea, if it wasn’t obvious. im talking about my mother in this.)
——————————
yknow,
you havent been a great person
or a good one even.
yet you still question as to why i dont love you
or like you,
maybe you have an idea of how much i hate you.
maybe not
i dont really care about your feelings.
at all.
not now.
i put up with this for fucking 14 years.
my entire fucking life.
ive put up with your shit.
but now?
now im done.
you have no idea how badly you fucked up.
when he said that “im sorry im a fuck up” 
yknow.
he mightve not been right for what he did.
but,
it was just a mistake.
it was a goddamn mistake.
you have any idea how many times ive uttered those words too?
how many times ive repeated them?
how many times i fucking meant it?
just because you “had it bad” doesnt mean shit to me.
you have no goddamn right to treat others the same way.
dont give me that “i dont know how else to act!”
bullshit.
bullshit you dont.
you treated your damn boyfriend just fine!
you had a goddamn kid
you had two goddamn children.
with this man that you fucking DESPISE.
you knew it back then too.
you told me you did.
you fucking told me.
almost nothing can compare to the anger i feel to you right now.
nothing.
you have no right to act like that.
no.
you have no goddamn right to hit another fucking living being.
for such a simple mistake.
i dont care if he talked about it since friday.
i dont give a fuck if he talked about it for months.
you.
you as a goddamn human.
have no right.
none.
in the slighest.
to hit another living being.
for talking about something in your eyes “too much”
or making a mistake.
youre a hypocrite.
need i remind you?
you said that after you broke up with the man you were having an affair with.
that youd be a better person.
stop the fights.
stop the beatings.
stop all of it.
and everything would be okay!
.
i didn’t believe you for a goddamn millisecond.
youre a liar.
just how you said i was.
you didnt quit.
you didnt stop.
hell two months after you hit him again!
you threatened to kill him and yourself!
cmon.
dont you get it yet?
i fucking despise you.
maybe to a degree i feel shocked.
but.
i really dont think thats it.
youre the root of my problems.
every single last fucking one.
——————
need i remind you as how i had to learn to cook, because you were too busy with your damn boyfriend to help me?
.
need i remind you how when i tried to show you that i was fucking cutting myself when i was 9 you only talked about how it looked ugly?
.
need i remind you about how many times you said that you didnt care if i hurt myself as long as no one can see it?
.
need i remind you about how you ignored the rope burn on my neck god knows how many times?
.
need i remind you how you denied fucking multiple peoples sexual assault because “it couldntve been like that”?
.
need i remind you of how many times i almost had to be hospitalized because of your neglect?
.
need i remind you of how many nights i spent alone, in the cold, in the dead of winter, just because you wanted to fuck your boyfriend?
.
need i remind you of what you yelled at me so many times?
.
need i remind you of what i seen?
.
need i remind you of how many times you blamed your abusive behaviors on medication?
.
need i fucking remind you of my entire purpose?
.
i dont care about your feelings anymore.
i gave up years ago.
but now.
i dont feel just numb for you.
i hate you.
in every sense of the word.
.
i dont care of what you or anyone else thinks of me.
.
i dont care about what you think of my appearance.
.
i dont care if you think im too thin or fat or whatever word youll use next.
.
i dont care about what you think because you’ll hate me no matter what.
.
you thought id stop being xxxx when you broke up with him.
you yelled at me.
no.
you fucking screamed at me for weeks.
im tired of even putting in the slighest effort of acting as if i fucking care.
i dont give a fuck about you.
and yknow?
if.
no.
if it would work.
if it was possible.
id fucking kill you.
id stab you.
right here.
right now.
to end my suffering.
to end his suffering.
all of it.
id end it all.
i dont care if its wrong.
because i know no one else knows about whats going on.
yknow.
only one person around here knows what youve done to him and me.
and i havent even met her in person.
yknow.
the people i used to be close with from school.
only just learned you had an affair.
i know that.
the police are do-less.
since you know them.
and hes a man.
not a woman.
it wouldnt be taken seriously.
that he should just fight back.
yknow.
youve ruined what life he has left.
his parents beat him.
his ex wife beat him, and cheated on him.
and here.
youve done the exact same thing.
yknow.
he’ll never get to see how love truely is.
because of you.
because of what youve done.
i cant say i really like him either.
but.
that doesnt give you the right to ruin his life.
.
yknow whats worse?
how i know the only reason that so far youve never dared to lay a finger on me.
is because ive proved that i won’t hesitate to beat the fuck out of you right back.
i know i joke about that night.
but.
really.
hitting you for doing that was the best decision i couldve made.
its kept me safer than i wouldve been for years. 
and even now.
if you were to as so much to touch me.
while in a fight.
id do it all over again.
you maybe 100 pounds heavier than me.
but you dont know how to fight against someone who wont just sit there and take it.
i wont forgive you for what youve done.
even if he will.
.
i want nothing to do with you.
get out of my life for good.
#j writes badly#woohoo i just love living in a very fucked up house its soo great /sarcasm#ughnf whats worse is that if it werent for my parents rn my life would be quiet literally perfect.#holy shit the being pissed at my mother instead of destroying my arm thing is actually working irl holy shit#(actually shoked abt that tbh)#unironically i wanna make a less oily fuck rn. like so badly. bc my parents went to the store and got eggs so i can#oh yea for the new gen folk that dont know all of the j lore (this has been bothering me bc its coming up on the anniversary)#i know how to break someones fingers and make it look like an accident!#turns out theres a specific way thats more common in abuse versus accidents!#dont ask why i know this 🙂 (or do- it reallt doesnt bother me) (also not that i would- /gen)#this is basically me catching everyone up through j lore im not even kidding tbh#and yes. i have hit my mother before bc she wouldnt stop “playing” as i had hot ramen in my hands!#(look. it wasnt the best move at the time but uh. really saved me in the long run unironically!)#THERES FUCKING GEESE FLYING OVER MY HOUSE RN HOLY SHIT#sorry. uh. i cant help it tho. i heard them and it was cute#oh yea even MORE j lore; i have a mildly unhealthy obsession with “being stronger” because im consitently (and rightfully)#paranoid that my mother is gonna try and hit me!#when the whole 2020 chrismas thing (when i hit her) happened i had just got done wih archery so i was still pretty strong#but then eating disorder happened and i quit archery. muscle atrophy etc etc#so like. its a big ass thing i think abt every day now!#yea theres a real reason why i consider my friends as “safe” 💀#heheheheeeeee when no where else is safe thats just life ig!#oh god i need to brush my teeth fuck.#hhvtbd but my mother is awake :(#HHGBHGBSNS i need to start doing that at an ealier time bc it keeps getting in the way of things#again. how the fuck does smth so simple as brushing my teeth make so much feel better 😭😭 its weird#sighh well! time to go back to trying to find drawing inspo!#(i unironically cannot use my own trauma as a drawing point bc it makes me actually suicidal. thats why i write it! /srs)#CHOKEKSSSJ ok ill hush now!
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luveline · 1 year ago
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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 
cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 
A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 
“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 
“I wanna see Max.” 
“She has to be here somewhere.” 
That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 
Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 
Steve frowns at you worriedly. 
“Who died?” asks a new voice.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 
“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 
“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”
“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 
“Is it awful?” you ask. 
“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 
“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 
“Dustin. He’s outside.” 
Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 
He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 
“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.
You school your impression. “Like what?” 
“Like you like him.” 
You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 
She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 
“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 
“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 
“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 
“He was touching you a lot.” 
“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 
“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 
“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 
“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 
You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 
“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 
Oh, boy, you think. 
As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.
From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 
Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 
“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 
“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 
“Steve.” 
“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 
“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 
“What?” he asks. 
His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 
You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 
“Are you okay?” 
“What?” 
“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 
“I sounded weird?” 
“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 
You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 
“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 
“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 
Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 
You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 
After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 
“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 
You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 
“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 
He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 
“You were in the way of the light.” 
“That what it was?”
“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 
“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 
Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 
“It’s good.” 
“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 
He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 
Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 
You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 
You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 
He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 
You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 
“You okay?” he whispers. 
You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 
Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 
A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I really like you, Steve.” 
He stares at you. “…But?”
“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 
“I thought…” And of course he did. 
“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 
He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 
“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 
“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 
“Yeah.” 
Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 
“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”
“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 
“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 
“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 
“I like you too!” he says loudly. 
A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 
You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 
“You okay?” he asks tightly. 
“I’m sorry.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 
You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 
He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 
“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 
You nod vehemently. 
Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”
—♡—
The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 
A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.
“I think I might melt.” 
“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 
“You can be my parasol.” 
“Your what?” 
“It’s a sun umbrella.” 
“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 
You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.
He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 
If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 
“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 
He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 
“That’s perfect.” 
“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 
“No… I’m thinking.” 
“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 
“I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 
You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 
“It’s a question.” 
He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 
“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 
“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 
“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 
His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 
“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 
“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 
His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 
You tip your head aside to catch your breath.
“Better late than never,” you joke. 
Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️
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inkskinned · 11 months ago
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you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.
bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.
this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?
so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."
you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.
you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.
but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.
quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.
you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.
you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?
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buck-star · 10 months ago
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Light after Dark | Bucky Barnes
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You ex-boyfriend never treated you well but when Bucky steps into your life it changes and he shows you how much he loves you. Would the behaviour you had with your ex-boyfriend be there because Bucky looks distanced.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃����𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 10.057 (it’s long but worth it, guess so)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, angst, abusing ex-boyfriend, violence, slapping, shouting, wound/scars because of abuse, smut, non/dub-con, manipulation, blowjob, deep throating, nipple play, handjob (male!receiving), cum eating, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), protected p in v, multiple orgasm, belly bulge, praises, fluff
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hello hello! It's me, again. Got bit of an angsty idea. Let's say that reader has an abusive ex, and this dude was physically and emotionally draining. She never had a single nice thought about herself in three years. She always thought she had big thighs, or wide hips etc etc. And let's say that she does have some scars from her ex, whenever he used to beer bottles at her they'd crash and cut her. She always thought she was not worthy, because he used to cheat on her all the time. Now, presently, we're with Bucky. And nowadays Bucky has been a little irritated and distant. And you think the worse, and your defense mechanism come up. Back with your ex, you used to cook good food and make so much effort (but your asshole ex never bothered) Bucky is confused why there's whole royal course of a meal on the table when he comes home. You don't want to point out the obvious and say it's for nothing, but it's really because you don't want him to leave. Bucky knows something is up, but how does he approach the situation???🤭🤭🤭This was pretty long lol (Again you don't have to write this if you’re uncomfy😌😌) Okie BYE!! @amathslutsguidetofandom
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for the request. I absolutely love it and I hope you like what I made with that. Also wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for listening to me, and helping me with some parts during writing.
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 -> Multifandom-Flash Bingo | 1008 | 1.1 | Cut his heart out with a spoon | @multifandom-flash | Fandom-Free Bingo: Valentines Edition | Row One-Two | Tracing Scars | @fandom-free-bingo
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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“Come one, can’t you get your shit together? It’s not that hard,” he shouted at you, throwing his hands up while he looked at you.
His expression was disgusted, and he was disappointed — because of you, like he always was. You just asked him to help you with the plates, but he was annoyed, mad that you couldn’t do it without annoying him. You didn’t want to annoy him; it was never your intention, but you’re tired — working hard in the household every day, sleeping only half of the night — and he never appreciates what you did. He wanted to have a meal — a proper meal — but you presented him with something he didn’t want to eat that day. How could you dare to cook soup when he wants meat?
“Take your plate and sit on the floor,” he told you, pointing next to him on the ground.
“P—please. I’m sorry,” you whimpered.
He rolled his eyes, and not even now have you done what he told you. Alex placed his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down until you were sitting next to him on the floor. He used his hand under your chin to tilt your head up, forcing you to lock in with him. Alex let go of your chin, smirking at you before his hand met your cheek painfully. You hissed, tears building in your eyes, but you swallowed harshly and looked down on your plate, which was lying in front of you.
“Shut your mouth. I don’t wanna hear a fucking word."
Your body started to tremble, but you stayed quiet. Alex laughed, turning to the plate in front of him and sliding the spoon through it a few times. He hadn’t tried the soup you cooked; he stared at the plate. That’s nothing a person like him would eat; Alex deserved better than soup. He deserved to be treated well. He turned his face, seeing you sitting in the same position since he smacked your face. You weren’t saying a word; your hands were shaking, and you tried to hide your tears. He took the plate in one of his hands, holding it above you. With a sadistic expression, he let the soup fall down on you.
“Oh— sorry. I forgot you’re not the trash,” he said.
You whimpered, feeling the hot liquid covering your body and burning your skin. Alex watched you and the way the soup soaked your clothes. He then stood up and pushed you to the side; you were curled up in yourself, crying silently while he just kicked you. Alex walked out of the kitchen, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess lying on the ground. Alex just left the house when you started crying more.
Almost half of the night you were lying on the ground, your body trembling, and you cried until there was no tear left anymore. You loved that man; you feel in love with him because he was caring; he made you feel good and appreciated you. But you feel like you were the reason for him being the way he is now. Maybe you were too fat, maybe your food wasn’t good, maybe you didn’t do things like you should do then? You often thought about it already — sleepless nights while Alex was sleeping next to you, smelling like a bottle of alcohol itself while he wrapped his arm around your waist.
Somewhere in the night, you heard the keys in the door. Your body tensed immediately while you pretend to be sleeping on the couch. Alex knew you weren't, and even when he would wake you up, he was drunk and frustrated.
“Babe, come here now. You little bitch,” he shouted through the house, and you sat up. “I won’t repeat myself, slut.”
You slowly walked toward him, holding your arms tightly around your body to cover yourself a bit. He grinned when he saw you walking closer to him; you look so small, while he felt so good looking at your scared form in front of him. Alex was holding a bottle of beer in his hand, and he took a sip, groaning when he noticed that the bottle was empty.
“Alex, y—you should go to bed,” you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrow.
You dared to say something, telling him what he had to do. He didn’t think twice when he lifted the bottle and smashed it against your head. The glass broke and left a bloody wound on your head. You whimpered and tried to hide the tears from rolling down your cheeks, but he saw it, and it made him chuckle even more. Now you knew that you shouldn’t tell him what to do, or else Alex would show you that you were his own little toy to treat and fuck you however he wanted.
“Get on your knees.”
“P—please. C—can I just clean the wound?”
“Get on your knees, or I will give you more than just this one to clean. Fucking little bitch,” he hissed, grabbing your chin harshly.
You whined, trying to turn your face away, but he was too strong for you. So you needed to look directly into his eyes while he leaned closer, and you smelled his breath — which smelled like nothing but alcohol. You pushed the urge to look disgusted away, but when he leaned even closer and captured your lips with his, you tried to pull away from him. His tongue slid over your lips, and when you weren’t parting your lips, he just smacked your cheek to make you hiss in pain. Then you opened your mouth, and he was able to guide his tongue into it. You felt disgusted, but you loved him, and when it was what he wanted, you wouldn’t deny it; otherwise, he would still do it. He has control over your relationship, as he showed you. Alex pulled away from you, leaving you panting while he smirked and pushed you down on your knees.
“Suck my fucking dick. Other girls would beg me to suck it, so why are you complaining about my dick, huh? Thinking you’re pretty? You’re not; have you seen your ugly, fat thighs? I would be ashamed to show them someone,” he said, and you nodded.
You didn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks; you felt so ashamed and embarrassed for looking the way you do. With shaking hands, you gasped his belt and unbuckled it. Opening his pants before you shoved them down his legs. You saw the outline of his dick in his pants, but he wasn’t hard. When you looked at his dick a moment too long for his liking, he cleared his throat, grasped your hair, and pushed you closer.
“Do you really think I will be turned on when I see you? You’re just a little ugly slut,” he said, laughing about the tears in your eyes.
You knew you weren't the most beautiful person, but even when you heard that for three years now, it was still hurtful. Alex always told you that he could have everyone, that everyone wanted to be with him, but he was together with you, even when it’s just because you couldn’t be without him — that’s what he was always saying.
You pushed his boxers down as well, revealing his soft cock. Alex took his shaft in his hand, stroking himself a few times before he pulled you closer and tapped his dick against your lips. You opened your mouth slightly, and when he managed to push into you, he immediately rammed his dick down your throat. He never paid attention to how you felt when you had sex; he didn’t care. You gagged around his length, trying to get used to it, but he had already started to thrust into you. His cock always slid down your throat, and his balls slapped against your chin. His hand in your hair guided you over his cock, and he slapped your cheeks a few times, causing more tears in your eyes.
“You’re such a fucking little slut, aren’t you? That’s the only thing you can do. Sucking my cock."
Your nails were digging into your tights, trying to ground you while he held you on his cock. He was deep in your mouth and throat, and you tried not to panic, but when he didn’t let you pull back, you wiggled softly, trying to move away from his length. But he didn’t let you move away; he was holding you with his cock in your mouth in place. When he was finally letting go of you, you pulled away and breathed deeply, crying quietly, while he grabbed your chin once again. His eyes darkened as he looked into yours. And you knew you shouldn’t have tried to pull away from him.
“Do you wanna kidding me? Making a scene like that?” He asked, looking disappointed at you.
He didn’t wait for an answer before he pushed his dick back inside your mouth. His hips thrusted forward, he groaned, and you felt his dick twitch in your mouth just before he came in your mouth. His cum was sliding down your throat, and he pulled away, smacking your face again before he pointed toward the couch.
“A—Alex.”
“Can’t you just keep your mouth shut? You annoy me. You’re my girlfriend, and your boyfriend wants to fuck you now.”
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When you woke up next to your boyfriend, your pussy was aching. He fucked you rough, never minding if it would hurt you or if you enjoyed this sex too. You were slowly getting up, and you felt disgusted with the mixture of sweat and cum on your body. So you walked to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake him. You really needed a hot shower, so you did exactly that. A hot, relaxing shower was perfect for your arching pussy and your tensed muscles, but when you heard Alex shouting that the breakfast wasn’t ready, you panicked again. You should have done the breakfast first and then thought about a shower. He swung the door of your shared bathroom open, narrowing his eyebrows.
“Do you think you could take a shower before making breakfast for me?” He asked, and you shook your head.
“I’m sorry—“
He walked closer, towering over you and pulling the towel away, leaving you naked in front of him. Alex looked your body up and down, slapping your breast and causing you to gasp.
“Have you looked into the mirror? Look how ugly you are, and your pussy, only great because she is still tight,” he said, turning around to took a shower as well.
You wrapped your arms around your body, trying to cover it. He is right; you’re ugly, and you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Your body is covered with scars — scars he caused with beer bottles or when he just hit you hard enough. You bent down to lift your towel, wrapping it around you, and got out of the bathroom to change into leggings and a t-shirt. Then you made your way to the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for the two of you.
It didn’t take long until Alex walked into the kitchen. He smirked at you when you looked so small compared to him since you tried to make yourself small around him. And especially because he can see the respect or more fear you have in your eyes when you look at him. You placed the plates on the table, both of you taking a seat, and you ate in silence; you didn’t want to annoy him. When he was finished, he looked at you, shoving his plate closer to you.
"You already made better food. I want you to clean until I come home from the meeting,” he told you.
“Oke,” you said, taking the plates to put them in the other dishes to clean them later.
Alex went to work, and you needed to clean. You weren’t really motivated to do so, but you didn’t want him to be angry at you again. So you started in the kitchen and then went to the living room. When you were almost finished, you heard Alex coming back home, and your muscles were immediately tensed.
“Lunch?”
“I cleaned and haven’t-“
“I don’t mind. You have to bring lunch to the table, and you didn’t once again,” he said.
“Thought I told you that when you’re not doing what I said, I will break up. You want that? No? But you did it, no. Lazy ass didn’t do what she was told.”
You whimpered, but he shook his head, pointing to the door of the apartment. And grasped your arm to pull you closer to the door. It was raining outside, and you knew he didn’t mind; he would let you wait outside until he allowed you to come back into the apartment. Alex went back inside and left you in front of the door. Your clothes were immediately soaked because of the rain, and you felt the cold all over your body. You were freezing, but he wouldn't let you into the apartment until he wasn't mad anymore. So you sat on the ground, your back against the wall, and your legs were pulled against you while you wrapped your arms around them. You cried quietly, trying to warm yourself up a bit while the cold rain was wetting your whole body.
"Hi, are you oke? Aren't you freezing?" A soft voice asked, and you looked at the man in front of you.
He was kneeling, offering you his hand, but you just smiled at him. He saw that it wasn't a real one, but he didn't want to pressure you. His brown hair was as wet as you were, but he didn't mind. He also didn't mind taking off his jacket and placing it over your shoulders.
"Thank you," you mumbled.
"I'm Bucky, and you?" He asked softly, his hand resting on your knees.
The warmth of his body warmed you a bit as well, and his steel blue eyes and the smile on his lips warmed your heart. You admired his blue eyes; he looked soft and beautiful.
"I'm Y/N"
"And what is a pretty girl like you doing outside in the rain?"
You blushed and turned your face away. Bucky smirked, looking at you, while he tried to find out why you were sitting there with a bruise on your pretty face. He hadn't seen that one before, but when he did, he reached out to slide his fingers over your face to turn it toward him. You hissed, trying to escape his fingers even when his touch was way softer than Alex's. Bucky removed his hand and waited until you were ready to face him again.
"I'm sorry; I didn't know I would scare you. I don't want to hurt you, but where are the bruises from?" He asked, and you shook your head.
"Nothing, really. I just- I just walked against the counter yesterday. I was stupid and ignored the open door of the counter. And I'm sitting here because I forgot my keys," you tell him.
Bucky nodded. He didn't really believe you, but he didn't want to push you either. When he noticed someone opening the door behind you, he got up to face the person behind you.
"You little slut, didn't I tell you to get pizza?" Alex asked, ignoring Bucky, who furrowed his eyebrows.
"Alex, you didn't say that you wanted pizza," you said quietly, looking at your hands.
"Don't dare to talk back, or you can spend the rest of the night here as well," he shouted at you, and you flinched.
Bucky's jaw was clenching when he saw the way Alex treated you, and when you got up from where you were sitting, Bucky reached out to grab your shoulder and pushed you behind him. Alex was laughing about it; his eyes were piercing into Bucky's.
"Do you think someone like him would treat you better? You're nothing but slut, a dumb little bitch," he said to you even when he was looking at Bucky.
You whimpered softly, but before you were able to say something, you saw Bucky's arm flying forward, and a moment later, your boyfriend was walking backwards, his hand covering his nose while he hissed in pain. Bucky just broke his nose with one punch, and you saw the blood slowly running down his chin, and Alex's hand was covered in it as well. You weren't sure if you felt scared or thankful that Bucky protected you for your boyfriend.
"Fucking slut. I'm gonna break up with you; fuck your new lover; he won't love you the way I loved you," he said, shutting the door and leaving you with Bucky in front of it.
Bucky turned around, seeing you crying, and, with widening eyes, looking at him broke his heart. He didn't want to scare you more, but he was just too angry at Alex for treating you the way he did. Bucky smiled nicely, opening his arms for you to decide if you wanted him to hug you or not. You hesitated a moment, but his warmth and the way he protected you made you crave more. So you walked closer toward him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you as close as possible. You placed your hand on his chest, inhaling his sweet-mint scent, and closed your eyes for a moment.
For the first time in years, you felt saved and loved. Someone could really like you the way you are. Bucky didn't know you, but he gave you the warmth you never got from your ex-boyfriend. His touches were soft, and you enjoyed the warmth and softness of them.
"You will come home with me. You can sleep in my bed then; I prefer the floor in the living room," Bucky said.
You were freezing, and when Bucky already offered you his bed and maybe a warm shower, you would definitely say yes. So you nodded softly, and Bucky lifted you up, his hands resting under your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist while you placed your hands around his neck. You looked at him with a smirk, and Bucky grinned just as much as you did. Only then did you realise his beautiful blue eyes, which light up when he smiles, like he did.
"Can I take a shower then as well? And Bucky, I think I'm too heavy for you to carry me home," you say quietly.
"You can also take a long, warm bath if you want to. And don't worry, you're not too heavy for me," he chuckled and gave you some butterflies in your stomach, causing you to giggle softly.
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"I'm home, doll," Bucky shouts through the apartment you both live in now.
Bucky takes off his jacket and shoes and makes his way into the kitchen. He inhales the smell of the food deeply, smiling when he sees the plates filled with his favourite food on the table. He walks around the table, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Bucky places his chin on your shoulder and looks at you while you're cooking.
When Bucky picked you up that day, you met him for the first time. He brought you to his home, and like he said, you were allowed to take a long, warm bath, and you slept in his bed. It was the first time in forever that you felt safe. Bucky made breakfast in the morning — a lot of breakfast because he wasn't sure what you liked to eat, so he made pancakes and French toast, and he offered you cereal. When you finished the dinner, he asked you to look over your wounds, and when you allowed him to do so, he picked you up to carry you into the bathroom and placed you on the edge of the bathtub. Bucky slowly moved his fingers over your thighs, and when you looked away because you were ashamed, he told you how beautiful you are.
Bucky took off your shirt, revealing a lot of scars and wounds all over your body. The hiss that left his lips made you flinch, but he assured you that he was just shocked that such a beautiful person like you has an ex-boyfriend like Alex. Bucky cleaned all your wounds; he didn't say that you were ugly. His words surprised you every time because he always admired your body, and he still does. The two of you came closer when Bucky offered you to stay with him, so you both would have someone, and you said yes, but your behaviour with your ex-boyfriend needed time to slowly fade away.
Bucky was really confused when you were always up before him when you made the meals and always studied his expression to see if it was good or not. With time, Bucky learned to tell you that the food is good, that he would like to cook with you together, and that he is going to help you with the dishes. Bucky took care to always tell you when he got home and to tell you what he would like to eat, or he told you to decide. When you were unsure, Bucky helped you decide, but he never pressured you. His only intention was to make you happy because he could never get enough of your beautiful smile.
Whenever you were looking into the mirror and a disgusted expression was on your face while a few tears fell down your cheeks — you wanted to be at least a bit handsome — Bucky smirked and was standing next to you, and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. He took off his shirt and showed you the scars on his own body. The bunch of scars around his metal arm, but also the others. He showed you a side of himself that was also just a broken man, and you fell in love with that side just as much as you fell in love with the strong Bucky who would punch everyone to protect you.
When you suddenly got woken up by a scream and you were scared your ex-boyfriend was shouting at you, you needed a moment to remember that you were with Bucky. It confused you at first why you heard a scream, but when you heard another and then a noise that sounded like a punch, you got up to find Bucky sleeping on the floor in the living room. It wasn't new to you to see him lying there, but when you saw the tears rolling down his cheeks and the sweat on his forehead, you walked closer to place your hand on his shoulder. He woke up immediately and tried to wipe the tears away, but everything in his body told you that he had a really bad nightmare. You sat in his lap; your arms were around his neck, and you were sliding your fingers through his soft brown hair. Bucky had his face hidden in the crock of your neck. You being close to him is just as helpful for him as his being close to you to feel safe and comfortable.
You never judge him for having nightmares, for not being comfortable around too many people, or for struggling with his scars and mental health sometimes. And he gives you the same; he never dares to judge you. Bucky tries to show you how beautiful you are, that you're worth it, and that you are and can be more than you think. And he loves you the way you are, just like you love him the way he is.
Slowly, you get used to being good the way you are, and Bucky will never shout at you or hurt you. But for a while, he has looked irritated and distant. He comes home late, and even when he says it's nothing, you feel like you have done something that makes him mad or that he loves you less. So you try to be better, clean the apartment more often, cook what he loves, and try not to be too clingy around him.
"It smells beautiful," he says, kissing your neck softly.
You lean into his touch, smiling, while you finish the dinner. His hands are trailing up and down your sides, and you feel the goosebumps erupting all over your body. You love his soft, warm touches, his kiss all over your neck, and the way his breath hits your soft skin.
"There is something in the oven," you say, and Bucky takes a step back to walk to the oven. "You can just take a seat; dinner is almost done."
Bucky looks slightly confused. Usually, you wouldn't mind his help, but for a few days, you don't ask or let him help you with food and dishes anymore. You cook a lot of what he loves, and the meals are almost royalty meals. He doesn't mind eating your food because he loves what you do, but he wonders why you suddenly act like you did when he first met you. He walks around the table and takes his seat. He looks at you with a soft smile, but he still doesn't understand why you put so much effort into cleaning and cooking.
"How come you cook such royal meals?" He asks softly but sees you flinch.
You constantly feel like you have done something wrong; maybe that's not what Bucky likes? Maybe you shouldn't have cooked that? Bucky wants, probably, a pizza. You feel the tears building in your eyes, and when you turn around, you see Bucky's smile fading away. He looks with a worried expression at you while he gets up and walks closer to you. You shake your head, walking backwards and crashing into the kitchen counter behind you.
"Doll, can I please come closer? I can stand here when you feel comfortable, but please let me come closer," he says, and you hesitate a moment.
Bucky stands a few meters away from you, waiting for you to allow him to come closer. When you nod slightly, Bucky steps closer and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible against him. Your head rests against his broad chest, and your tears are soaking his t-shirt while he holds you tightly.
"B—Bucky I'm sorry. I didn't want to make the wrong food. I cleaned the house today; please don't be mad for not cleaning enough," you say quietly.
"Shhh. Doll, you didn't do anything wrong; why do you think that?"
"B—Because you look so distant. Don't you love me anymore? Am I too ugly or too fat? I—I can do a diet."
Bucky's eyes widen, and he slides his hands down to your thighs and picks you up. He shoves the pots away from the cooker. He then turns around and carries you to the bedroom of the two of you. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you try to wipe the tears away when he places you on the bed. Bucky stands in front of you and smirks softly, then he gets on his knees in front of you. His hands slide up and down your thighs until he reaches the hem of your shirt.
"I love you. I love you so much. And the missions with Sam were really exhausting, especially because John is always trying to tell us what we have to do. But I love you so much, and you are beautiful exactly the way you are. You're not fat or ugly; you're perfect the way you are," Bucky tells you. He then pushes you down and towers over you with a wide smile on his lips.
Bucky captures your lips with his soft and plumb ones, his hands sliding along your sides, and you sigh softly into the kiss. Bucky deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping through your barely parted lips, and he groans when you place your hands in his soft hair and tug at them softly.
You've never had sex with Bucky; he didn't pressure you since you were uncomfortable with it because of your ex-boyfriend. But right now, it feels perfect — the way Bucky has his lips on yours and his hands all over your body. You feel a heat in your lower stomach, which makes its way between your legs, and you can't help but moan about the feeling. When Bucky pulls slightly away, your eyes widen but are filled with lust, the pleasure written on in your expression, and Bucky smiles about it. He kisses down your jawline and to your neck, biting softly and licking over your soft skin.
"Bucky, please," you whimper.
He smirks, kissing your lips once again, before he plays with the hem of your shirt and pushes it up. You sit up, letting him remove the fabric from your body, and he groans about the way you look underneath him with lust in your eyes. Bucky kisses your collarbone, down to your breasts, and unclasps your bra so you can take it off as well. His big hands capture your breasts, palming them softly, and he earns soft moans from you. Bucky licks a strap down to one of your nipples; he kisses it softly before he takes it into his mouth, his tongue twirling around your nipple. You arch your back, pressing yourself more against your boyfriend, who chuckles.
"You're beautiful, doll," he mumbles, nibbling at the soft skin of your breast.
You blush and hide your face with your hands, giggling softly. Bucky looks at you, grasping your hands and pulling them away from your face. He leans closer to kiss your lips softly.
"Don't hide that pretty face of yours. You’re so beautiful; I wanna see you, please," Bucky says, pouting, and you smirk.
You lean closer and peck at his lips, just as softly as he did. Bucky moves his lips down your collarbone and to your other breast, kissing around your nipple before he takes it in his mouth as well. Suckling softly and scratching his teeth over the sensitive skin. You moan, tugging at his hair and pulling him even closer. Bucky slides his hands from your breasts down your stomach, kissing the way down and giving every inch of your soft skin attention.
“Do you want it? If not, we can wait until you’re ready to have sex with me,” Bucky says, his fingers playing with the waistband of your pants.
“I want it, please, Bucky. I need you,” you mumble, blushing once again.
“You’re cute when you blush,” he chuckles.
Bucky opens your pants, trailing his fingers along your skin while he pushes your pants down. He then kisses the way back to your belly and smirks when you wiggle in anticipation. He pushes himself up, removing his shirt as well as his pants, before he leans over you again. You can see his growing bulge in his boxers, and the outline of his cock is visible. A little wet spot forms where his tip is, and you reach out your hand to touch his cock.
“Wanna touch it, babydoll?” He asks, and you nod, your eyes focused on his covered cock.
Bucky grins, getting up the bed once again, and pushes his boxers down. His cock springs free and slaps against his stomach; the red tip is leaking with pre-cum, and you see the vein running along the underside of his shaft. Bucky gets on the bed next to you. You sit up, looking directly into his eyes, while he smiles at you. You slide your fingers over his abs and to the base of his cock. Bucky looks at your fingers, his hand wrapping around yours, and he brings both of your hands to his shaft.
“It’s oke, doll. I won’t do anything unless you want me to,” he says, leaning closer to kiss you before he wraps your hand around his shaft.
You smile when you feel the softness of his length. He is huge, but with Bucky, you feel safe, and you know he wouldn’t do anything when you say you don’t want him to do so. His hand lets go of yours.
For a moment, you just look at his cock in your hand and the way his pre-cum is leaking down his tip. It’s glistening softly, and you swipe your thumb over his slit, smearing the cum all over his tip. Bucky groans softly, smiling when you slowly move your hand up and down his shaft.
“Do you like that?”
“It feels wonderful, babydoll.”
You giggle, swiping your thumb a few more times about his tip until Bucky can’t hold back and thrusts forward into your hand. His eyes widen, and he looks at you, but there is no discomfort, so he relaxes and lets you continue to massage his dick.
“C—Can I touch your balls?” You ask, cheeks heating up.
Bucky nods, and you look at his balls before you use your other hand to bring it to his balls, taking them into your hand. They are soft, and you roll them in your palm, causing Bucky to groan.
“Babydoll, you’re doing so well for me. But when you continue, I won’t last long,” Bucky says.
You grin, moving your hand faster and wrapping it tighter around his shaft. Your other hand is massaging his balls, and when you swipe your thumb once again over his tip, Bucky grasps the sheets and thrusts his hips forward.
“Doll,” he says, looking deeply into your eyes.
The blue lights up when he smirks; they are slightly darkened because of the lust, but they show you nothing but love. When you stroke his cock a few more times, Bucky throws his head back and comes into your hand. He breathes heavily, and sweat is covering his forehead. His seeds are covering his tip and your hand, and for a moment he is worried that you could feel uncomfortable with it. But you just stroke him until he comes down from his high, and then you look at your hand, his cum slowly dropping from it, and you move it to your mouth, so you lick a bit of it away, moaning softly at its salty taste.
“It tastes good,” you smirk, tapping his cock again, and Bucky moans.
When Bucky catches his breath, he pushes you back down so you lay next to him. He spreads your thighs and slides his fingers up and down your thighs further until he reaches your panties. Your face is turned toward him, and he’s focused on your expression, making sure you’re oke. When you nod softly, Bucky guides his hand over your panties and caresses your fold through the fabric. You moan softly; he knows how to touch a woman to make her feel good; he immediately hits your clit and you buck your hips. He then slides his fingers further down, feeling your panties damp, and he smirks.
“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, and you nod, but place your hands on his cheek and press your lips on his.
Bucky moves his lips perfectly against yours; he’s deepening the kiss before he kisses your neck and collarbone before his focus is back on your panties. His fingers circle your clit through the fabric, and you moan quietly, arching your back. Bucky takes the waistband of your panties between his fingers and pulls them down, revealing your pussy. He rolls himself on top of you before he pushes you further down in the bed by your hips. He is then lying between your thighs and smirking at you.
“You’re so wet and so beautiful,” he says, placing a kiss on your pussy.
Bucky’s eyes are focused on your pussy, his fingers trialing through your folds, and he parts them slightly. Using his tongue to lick along them to your clit. Circling around your sensitive spot before he sucks at it softly, making you gasp. You have never felt so much pleasure during sex, and Bucky hasn’t really touched you yet. His fingers trail back down to your soaked entrance. He pushes his digit against it, smirking at the way you push yourself more against his finger.
“You’re cute when you’re desperate for more, doll,” he says, placing his lips once again on your clit.
One of your hands finds its way to his hair, tugging at it and pulling Bucky closer to your cunt. He chuckles against your pussy, causing vibration, and you whine. He slowly pushes one of his fingers into you while his other hand holds you down by your hips. You only then know that he used his metal hand to push inside of you. The sudden cold of his finger feels great compared to the heat in your pussy. Bucky thrusts his finger in and out of you, smirking about the way your pussy is clenching around his digit and sucking him inside. His mouth doesn’t let go of your clit while he does so, enjoying the sounds that are leaving your lips. They are like music, and he could listen to your soft moans all day.
“Bucky— please. It feels so good.”
“You’re tasting so sweet, doll. Can’t get enough of your pussy.”
You smirk, throwing your head back when he adds another finger and pushes them as much as he can into your tight hole. You’re soaking his fingers, and when he curls them, he finds your sweet spot. The moan that leaves your lips is erotic, and you look at him with shock in your eyes about that sound.
“Don’t worry, doll. Just found your sweet spot,” Bucky chuckles, licking down your folds to your entrance.
His tongue joins your fingers, and his lapping at your entrance swallows all your juice. His fingers curl inside of you, hitting always your sweet spot, and you feel the knot in your stomach growing. You haven’t felt a pleasure like that in years, but Bucky is so soft with you; he never says anything bad about you or your body. Bucky loves you; he loves your body; and he shows you that, every day, he makes sure you know how much you’re loved by him and that you’re the most beautiful woman for him.
“I feel soy squeezing my fingers; if you wanna come, then do it. Come all over my fingers, doll,” he says, placing his mouth back at your entrance.
His words, the way his tongue is working over your folds, and the way his fingers are always hitting your sweet spot make you come. Your cum is floating out of you, but Bucky doesn’t dare to miss a bit of it and takes it all. Eating you out like it’s the most delicious meal he's ever had. And he fucks you with his fingers and his tongue through your orgasm; your breath hitches whenever his tongue slides over your folds. Your pussy feels so sensitive, but Bucky is so soft. He earns more soft moans until he pulls his fingers out of you and kisses your clit once more before he places his chin on your lower stomach and smirks at you.
“How are you feeling, pretty girl?”
“Great, thank you. And you?”
Bucky chuckles, you’re always so nice. Even when it’s all about you, you always make sure that he is fine too. That both of you feel comfortable.
“I’m good too. Do you want to have my dick now?” He asks, grinning.
You nod, running your fingers through his soft hair. Bucky kisses your stomach, pushing his elf up until he kneels between your legs. His big hands are caressing your thighs. Bucky’s cock is hard again, and the tip is touching your pussy when he moves closer to you.
“Could you give me a condom? It’s in the drawer from the bedside table.”
You turn yourself a bit around, reaching for the drawer, and open it. You grab a condom and give it to Bucky, then you close the drawer and lay down more comfortably again. Bucky opens the package of the condom, taking it out and throwing the package away. Your boyfriend grasps the base of his cock and pulls the condom over his dick.
You’re spreading your legs further apart when Bucky settles himself between them, his cock still in his hand, and he taps the tip a few times against your clit. He smirks at you, sliding his dick through your folds, and covers his cock with your arousal. You moan softly when he reaches your entrance, pushing his tip softly against it. You whimper softly when Bucky slides his cock once more through your folds. He loves the way you look through your lashes at him; your lips are slightly parted, so desperate for his cock.
"Bucky, please," you say quietly, pushing your hips toward him.
Bucky lines himself up with your entrance and pushes slowly inside of you; his cock is huge, and he stretches you like no one has before. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he pushes further into you. Your back arches, but he doesn't hurt you; the pleasure is breathtaking, and you grasp the sheets. Bucky chuckles, pushing balls deep into you; he then leans closer and captures your lips with his. His cock is filling you perfectly, and you clench around him, causing him to groan into your mouth.
"You're so tight, warming my cock so perfectly," he groans.
"You're so deep," you moan when he pulls slightly out to push back into you.
You both chuckle, and Bucky takes one of your hands, brings it to your stomach, and places it on your lower abdomen. He then thrusts his cock into you, letting you feel him through your skin and causing you to moan even louder. Feeling his cock that way turns you on beyond belief. He moves his cock in a slow but steady rhythmus inside of you. Your walls are squeezing him, sucking him deeper into the warmth of your pussy.
Bucky's balls hit your ass whenever he pushes his dick balls deep into you. His dick is glistening with your arousal, and Bucky looks the whole time into your eyes.
You're beautiful when you lay underneath him like that. Your other hand makes its way to his back, and you try to ground yourself while Bucky holds your other hand, still pressed on your stomach. With every thrust you feel him against your hand, he cock is hitting all the right spots, and he smirks when he hits your sweet spot harder than before.
"That's what you like?" He asks.
"Scared that I will break when you're thrusting harder into me?"
He shakes his head, laughing while he speeds up his thrusts. Your mouth drops open when he causes a pleasure inside of you that you have never felt before. It grows in your stomach and makes its way down to your pussy. Your eyes widen while you breathe heavily, but you still push your hips more against Bucky to show him to fuck you harder. And he does; he pulls almost completely out of you to thrust back inside of you. His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes when you squeeze him harder.
"I won't last long when you squeeze me like that, doll," he says, pressing his lips to yours.
You smirk, clenching your walls on purpose to make him groan against your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and his thrusts become harder and faster while you're not far away from the edge anymore. The pleasure in your stomach is growing, and Bucky growls. When he hits your sweet spot a few more times, he feels your orgasm just as close as his own, speeding his thrusts up. Bucky doesn't want to come before you do — or at least when you do.
"B—Bucky, I'm so close."
"I know, me too. Come with me, doll," he mumbles softly.
He pushes his cock into you; you feel every inch of him inside of you; his lips are slightly parted like yours; and his breath hits your soft skin. The feeling of him feeling you completely inside of you causes you to come all over his cock. You moan his name and its music to his ears, hearing you moan his name while he is buried balls deep into your pussy. You're squirting all over his cock, and Bucky grins while he comes as well. He comes in the condom, still thrusting into you while you both calm down from your high. Bucky lets go of your hand, sliding it over your stomach and your sides, caressing your skin. He places kisses all over your neck while you catch your breath and run your fingers through his soft hair.
"Are you oke?" He asks, his blue eyes slightly worried that he could have been too rough.
"I'm— it was perfect."
His expression softens, and he pulls slowly out of you. You hiss about the sudden emptiness and grasp his muscular arms to pull him back. Bucky chuckles, placing his fingers at your pussy and strokes your folds softly. You're clenching around nothing, while Bucky admires the way your cum is dripping out of you.
He then sits up and helps you sit up as well. Bucky removes the condom and gets up from the bed, making his way to the bathroom to throw the condom away. You're looking at him, smirking. He is adorable, sweet, and caring. He never tells you that you're ugly because of your scars; he just kisses them when you struggle because of them and tells you how beautiful you are. And you're doing the same; whenever he has nightmares or suffers from his past or scars, you know exactly how to cheer him up. A lot of kisses and cuddles always help that soft, big man, and with the way his eyes are shining, his lips curl up to the softest and most adorable smile.
You rest your back against the headboard of the bed, waiting for Bucky. He throws the condom away and runs warm water into the bath; he buts your favourite bubble bath into it as well, before he makes his way back to you. He smirks, picking you up with no effort and getting back into the bathroom. Before you can say something, you're sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by a lot of bubbles and your favourite scent. You squirm softly when you feel the warm water on your sensitive pussy. Bucky gets into the bathtub behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and pulls you as close as possible.
"I love you," he mumbles, taking some of the foam and putting it on your hair.
You giggle when it rolls down your hair and tickles your skin softly. Bucky rubs his hands softly over your stomach, drawing small circles on it while you lean back, resting your head against his broad chest. Bucky plays with the foam, placing them everywhere on your body, and chuckles then.
"You did so well for me, babydoll. Your pussy's feeling so good around my cock," Bucky says, kissing your neck softly. "Made for my cock."
You chuckle, sliding your hands over his legs. But he is right; it was perfect, and he was so soft that you weren't scared when he pushed in; you felt safe, and you knew he wouldn't do it when you didn't want it.
"My pretty doll, I'm so in love with you. How about I prepare some popcorn and pizza after the bath while you decide which movie we're going to watch?"
"Sounds like a good idea," you say, turning around to kiss him.
Bucky washes your hair, trying to avoid letting shampoo come into your eyes, and he manages to do so. When you turn your whole body around, you're washing his hair. When you put the shampoo in his soft brown hair, you give him some fresh hair styles. Laughing about the way he is pouting when you giggle about his hair. You kiss his pout away, causing him to pout again to get more kisses.
When the both of you are finished, you get out of the bathtub, and Bucky holds a towel to wrap around you, kissing your forehead softly when he walks to the bedroom and dresses himself, giving you panties and a t-shirt of his. You smirk, dress yourself, and comb your hair. Bucky makes his way to the kitchen, preparing the popcorn and the pizza. When you're finished in the bathroom, you walk into the living room, placing all the pillows and blankets on the couch and letting yourself fall into them. When Bucky came with the food and drinks into the living room, he burst out laughing. Only your arms and legs are visible from underneath the pillows. He places the food and drinks on the small table and lifts the pillow on top of you, smirking.
"Does the pillow eat you?" He asks, and you chuckle.
"No, I just like to cuddle."
You sit up, moving a bit to make some space for Bucky. He lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arm around you, then he takes the popcorn and hands it to you before he places the pizza in his lap. With a smirk, you look at the pizza and then into his blue eyes.
"Needy boy," you mumble into his ear.
You slide your hand over his chest to his stomach until you almost reach his cock, but then you take a slice of pizza and bite into it with a grin. You turn on a movie, Bucky, and you like that your head rests on his shoulder while he has his hand around your waist and pulls you as close as possible.
"Just as needy as I'm," he says, making both of you chuckle.
Bucky takes some popcorn from the bowl, which is standing between your legs, so he has to grasp between your legs like you do when you take a slice of pizza from him.
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"Bucky?"
"Mhm?" He asks, half asleep, and pulls you even closer against him.
You smile softly and run your fingers through his soft hair. You move some strands out of his face and lean closer to kiss him. Bucky growls and makes you lie on top of him, his arms holding you tightly pressed against him. His fingers draw small circles on your soft skin, and he hides his face in the crock of your neck.
"Y-You know about my things, which are still at Alex's house, right?" You ask carefully; you don't want to upset Bucky.
He hums in response and looks at you, his blue eyes as soft as always. He leans closer and captures your lips for a passionate kiss, showing you that you don't have to worry about telling him about your ex-boyfriend. Bucky knows you love him just as much as he loves you. And he understands that you want to get your personal stuff from your ex-boyfriend.
"A—And I wanted to ask if— could you maybe come with me to him?"
Bucky immediately nods, rolling both of you over so you're underneath him, and he smirks at you. His soft lips grace over yours and along your jawline to your neck, where he bits softly into your skin. His hands move smoothly over your sides, caressing your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. You sigh softly and enjoy the warmth and softness of Bucky's touches. He is always so soft and careful with you, like you could break into his hands when he doesn't pay attention. But you don't complain; Bucky is everything for you — the love of your life and your best friend.
After a lot of kisses, cuddles, and a good breakfast, you're ready to go to your ex-boyfriend and get your personal stuff. Your hands are sweating, and you dry them on your pants. Your body is slightly shaking. Bucky recognises that; he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Your head rests on his chest, and you listen to his heartbeat.
"He won't hurt you again, babydoll. I'm taking care of you; I'll protect you, and he won't do anything when you don't want it." Bucky mumbles and pushes you softly away.
He presses his lips against your forehead, which helps calm down your nerves. Bucky opens the door for you, holding your hands tight in his while you two walk along the street to the apartment you used to live in a few months ago. When you see the entrance of it already, you panic, stay still, and inhale deeply. Bucky turns toward you and places his hand on your cheek, sliding his thumb over it.
"Doll, you're stronger than you ever were. This man never broke you, and he never will. He can't harm you; I love you, and I won't let him touch you again," Bucky says softly.
He knows how hard it can be to accept a trauma you're carrying in your soul. Wounds that turn into scars, but it needs more time as a cut on the skin. Bucky knows how much you suffered because of your ex-boyfriend, but he also sees the strong woman behind all that pain. He loves you for the person you are, not for the person he wants you to be. When you nod, he leads you further to Alex's apartment. He knocks with a strength you're not used to at the door, and then the door is opened by a man you feel like you don't know.
Alex has messy hair; his beard isn't shaved like he used to, and he has dark shadows underneath his red eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept for a while, but when he sees you, he smiles. A smile you had only seen on his lips when you first met. The one you fell in love with. But when Alex sees Bucky standing next to you and holding your hand in his, his smile drops.
"Hi, I—I would like to get my stuff, please," you mumble.
Surprisingly, Alex nods and takes a step to the side, letting you and Bucky walk into the apartment. When you look around, everything looks similar to the day he threw you out of the apartment. The only difference is that there are clothes and trash on the ground. Bucky lets go of your hand, staying next to you to make sure Alex isn't doing anything. You're walking through the apartment and picking up your things, putting them in a bag you brought.
"Can we talk, please?" He asks when you walk back to the floor, where he is still standing.
You nod carefully, and Bucky kisses your cheek before he walks a step to the side to let the two of you talk. Alex runs his fingers through his hair and his hands over his face, and then he inhales deeply.
"I'm sorry, I—I Baby—“
"Alex, please. We're not together anymore."
"I never wanted to hurt you. I love you. I haven't had a girl since you moved out. Please, I love you. Give me one more chance to show you that I love you. I will be a better boyfriend this time," he says, and you see the tears falling down your cheeks.
You shake your head. And his eyes widen. Realism hits him when he sees that you don't feel the same for him anymore. He sees in your eyes that you moved on, not only in your eyes; you look in general different from the time you were together with him.
"I'm sorry, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say with such strength in your voice. You never thought you would talk to him like that without fear.
"Please, you— I love you."
"You were strong, and I was not. And you used it — you used it against me. When all is done, there is nothing to say. You have gone, and so effortlessly, you have won. You can go ahead and tell them. You can tell your friends now what you want; you can tell the girls you fuck now how shitty I am and how bad I'm in bed. I never did what you wanted or the way you wanted. Tell them all; I know now that you fucked them all without feeling ashamed to cheat on the girl you have at home, the one who loved you and expected to be treated like you did. To be abused by her boyfriend while still loving him. Shout it from the rooftops; write it on the skyline; all we had is gone now. Tell them I was happy even though my heart was broken. All my scars were open, but I found someone who doesn't mind them and helps to heal them, someone who loves all the scars you caused."
Bucky smirks when he hears your words, and his eyes light up when he hears you tell your ex-boyfriend what was inside of you for so long. And you were finally able to tell him how you felt and how you now feel.
"I know I made mistakes. But I love you."
"Everyone does, but you betrayed me. And falling out of love is hard, but falling for betrayal is worse. And you betrayed me so often. Broken trust and broken hearts — you broke both our hearts; you broke mine when we were together, and yours broke because I moved on. And thinking all you need is there, building faith on love and words, only empty promises will wear. Alex, I loved you, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say and nod before you walk to Bucky.
He smiles widely at you, his eyes shining in the most beautiful way you have ever seen. You place your hand in his, and he takes the bag before you two make your way to the door and get out of the apartment. When you close the door behind you, you breathe shakily, and you feel like all the pain and fear are fading away. You walk a few steps, but Bucky just can't hold back anymore and stays still, turning around and wrapping his arms around your waist.
"I'm so proud of you, doll. I love you so much. I would tell the whole world; I just do it. I will tell the world how much I love you," Bucky says with a grin, and twirling the two of you around, he then leans closer. "I love you so much, and I'm proud of you. I don't even have words for that; you're the most beautiful woman, and you belong to me; you're mine just as much as I'm yours," he whispers into your ear.
"Thank you. I love you too, Bucky," you giggle, then you smirk playfully. "So, where do you want to go to tell the world that you love me?"
"I already did. When I whispered in your ear that I love you. Because you're my world, my perfect world," Bucky says, kissing you softly.
You feel some tears of joy rolling down your face when you realise his words. No one ever said more meaningful words than Bucky does. He is definitely everything for you, and you are grateful to have such a wonderful and loving man as your boyfriend. One who sees you as the only and most wonderful woman, someone who doesn't even look at other women, and one who tries to make you laugh as often as he can. Bucky is the love of your life, and you're grateful that destiny brought the two of you together and that the two of you discover every day another thing you love about one another.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @vicmc624 @kpopgirlbtssvt @ordelixx @angelbabyyy99 @mostlymarvelgirl @somegirlfromasgard @buck-buck-buckaroo @lov3lys1ns @etherealdisneyvillainness @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel
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yourlittlebunnyy · 6 months ago
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sweet request - eris x reader
masterlist
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summary: Eris wants to see you pregnant with his child.
warnings: none i think?
w/c: 1k
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You have tied the knot with the mighty High Lord of the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra, ever since the day you discovered your status as mates. Currently, you're occupied with your newly acquired duties as High Lady. This allows Eris to be alone with his thoughts, and his mind is consumed by the desire to see you carry his heir.
Later, you make your way back. "My dear." Eris gently holds your face and says, "I would like to discuss something with you." He smiles. Instinctively you reach out your arms to encircle his neck, holding him close to you. It was hard for you to get used to spending all day divided from your mate, but you had to do it. When Eris became High Lord, a lot of things changed in the Autumn Court, including the power of females: you first wished to be an example for all undervalued, abused and exploited Fae and decided to work and toil as hard as Eris. This allowed many other females to emulate you, feeling free to make their own choices, and the Autumn Court slowly began to change its mindset.
But all this, of course, took time and effort, not allowing you to spend much time with your beloved. Eris’ grin widened as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. He loved to feel you close again, after a whole day of being apart. He was happy that you were taking your status of High Lady so serious. But even he could see how much it was wearing down on you. Eris’ expression quickly changed into that of worry and concern as his eyes slowly looked over your tired body, noticing the bags under your eyes.
“Darling, are you tired?” The Autumn Court High Lord questioned, his hands gently cupping your face.
His concern tugs at your heart, and you can't help but smile at him. Eris has always been an outstanding mate, and before that, a friend always willing to help you.
"No, no. Don't worry. What did you want to tell me, you, rather?" You ask, returning the conversation to the question he had asked you just moments ago.
Eris knew you were lying, and it took everything he had in him to not call you out on that. He took a deep breath, knowing that if he would push it, it wouldn’t end well. He caresses your cheek, a frown on his lips as he sighed out quietly.
“Just something I’ve been thinking about.” He said, his hand now gently moving down to your hip, caressing it with his thumb. He was quiet for a second, as if mentally preparing himself for what he wanted to say next.
It was not often that Eris was... nervous. Sure, sometimes he is agitated, sometimes he is sad. But he was never... afraid to tell you something. In fact, once he was, you remember pleasantly.
Eris was the first to sense your bond, and that very afternoon he ran to you to reveal it, not wanting to lie to you and giving you a choice. He was nervous that afternoon, just as he is now. You wonder what was left so 'unsaid' between you that made him so uncertain.
"Hmm, and what is that?" You ask as you place a hand on his that was already resting on your cheek, an encouraging smile opens on your lips, inviting him to speak.
Eris took another deep breath. He was so nervous. No he was terrified. How would you react. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, his eyes locking onto yours, seeing the encouraging smile that you adorned on your beautiful lips. He couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with you.
“It’s something that I want.” He began. His heart was racing, but he couldn’t show weakness. He needed to remain calm. No matter the outcome.
Eris knows how much effort you are putting into your new role, and he does not want his request to prevent you from doing what you like, or worse-that you feel obligated to do what he wants just for him. If you were going to have a child, it would be at the behest of both of you; Eris would not agree otherwise.
"Well, love, you are a High Lord, I could say you can have anything you want." Your partner chuckles, but it doesn't calm his nerves. The hand resting on your hip fiddles with your dress, and it does not go unnoticed.
It felt like you were setting him up for rejection. But he couldn’t think like that. He can’t give up before he even tried. He looked down, away from your eyes now, a look of doubt in his brown-amber eyes. He inhaled deeply, as if to give himself courage to continue.
"Anything?" He questioned as his hand stopped moving on your hip. His heart rate picked up again.
Eris could see the worries that were starting to cross your mind. He knew a lot of scenarios were now playing out in your mind, and it pained him to know you thought he didn’t want you. That, by Gods, was the last thing he wanted you to think. He let out a small breath, and quickly brought a hand up to stroke your chin with his thumb. “Hey, stop thinking.” He muttered. “Just-“ A pause, as he tried to gather the words he wanted to say next.
"Please, love. Just say it, okay?"
He was quiet for another few seconds, mentally preparing himself once more. But he knew you wanted him to just spill it. He took a deep breath, and finally said what was on his mind.
“I want to see you pregnant.” He said. His cheeks heating up as he did so. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It shouldn’t be a hard request for you to satisfy.
Your heart loses a beat as a mix of emotions takes over you. If that's really what he wanted to tell you, then you don't understand why he's so nervous. A slight chuckle escapes you, making Eris confused. Are you laughing at him, or at his request?
After a small moment when you recover, you take his hands in yours and look him straight in the eye. You make sure to send him as much love and comfort as you can through bonding, and smile sweetly when he reciprocates with the same emotions.
"So, you want a child? With me?" You ask shaking his hands, Eris smiles.
He was confused. He had been dreading telling you this, dreading your rejection, and he had expected a different reaction coming from you. But there you were instead, trying to hold back a laugh. He almost pouted at that. And was about to, if it wasn’t for you taking his hands in yours, and staring into his eyes. For a second his heart stopped. But it started up again as your love through the bond hit him.
He knew he had been worrying for no reason. He always did.
“With you.” He confirmed, his smirk returning again.
You smile again at his words.
He smiled back at you, before he gently used his hands to tilt your head back by your chin. He slowly started walking you backwards, gently pushing you towards the wall behind you, as his smirk slowly turned into a devilish grin. Once your back hit the wall, he leaned forwards, and spoke in a tone that left no room for any disobedience.
“I suppose I’ll have to put a baby in you now, won’t I?”
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cherienymphe · 1 year ago
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Teenage Dirtbag X
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JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron
Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON acts, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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➥ series masterlist
summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.
Your rescue just comes with a price.
You blinked at JJ’s question, leaning back against the wall of the pool house.
He sat next to you, both of you facing the couch, and you tried to ignore the feel of his arm brushing against yours. Despite the fact that it was only a week ago that he was kissing you in your bedroom—and that Rafe didn’t not deserve it—you still felt wrong about the whole thing. Horrible or not, the older blond was still your boyfriend, and it was bad enough that you were hiding out in the pool house with JJ while Rafe was probably off snorting coke with his friends.
You didn’t want to make it worse by doing anything other than talking.
The blonde’s question made you eventually sigh, straightening.
“Hey…hey, you don’t have to answer anything you don’t-.”
“No…I…” you shook your head. “It’s fine.”
That was the truth.
“It’s just that I’ve never talked about any of this with anyone before…”
Your voice shrank, and you didn’t want to admit how comforting it felt to feel JJ’s hands come up to rest on your arms. It was strange to say all of this out loud to anyone, especially JJ, because you were so used to Rafe’s behavior—had been rationalizing it for so long—and you felt nervous as to how JJ would take it.
“It was my 19th birthday,” you slowly said.
You felt JJ tense, and when you snuck a glance at him, there was a deep frown on his face as he looked at you.
“We were arguing…” you sadly smiled as you thought about what it’d been about. “…because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”
You scoffed at the memory and at how you’d ignored what you thought was a little thing.
“It’d been a sore spot for a while. I was a virgin, I wasn’t ready, and Rafe was waiting longer than he’d anticipated.”
JJ’s hands fell, and he fully turned to face you, that frown remaining on his face as he listened.
“It became this whole…thing that really just pissed me off because it was my birthday,” you spat out, frowning now too. “It was my birthday party, and he was ruining it.”
You swallowed, recalling how angry and sad you’d felt that night.
“You know, I was reading up on this one day, and it said that sometimes people like him will purposely start arguments and fights on special days and holidays and stuff to make it all about them?” you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head. “They were right.”
Tears kissed your eyes, and JJ reached out to brush his thumbs underneath them.
“…because every time I think about that day, instead of remembering turning nineteen and celebrating with my family and my friends and my boyfriend… All I remember is him slapping me,” you whispered, holding JJ’s gaze. “All I remember is where it all started and how he begged me to forgive him…and how I should’ve left then.”
“Hey…”
“It was my birthday…but to me it’s just the beginning of the end. It’s the start of when Rafe ruined my life.”
JJ wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, and you pressed your face into his shoulder. You felt so odd—so much lighter—and you didn’t need to be a therapist to know that it was because you were finally talking about this. The blonde’s hands rubbing up and down your back was enough to make your lashes flutter.
“You know, I blamed myself for the longest time,” you mumbled.
JJ pulled away almost immediately, lips parting, and you shook your head.
“I know that it’s not my fault. I know that, now, but… I was so angry that night that I said things that I knew would make him mad,” you shrugged. “It just didn’t seem fair that I was the only one upset on my birthday.”
“That doesn’t excuse him hitting you,” JJ bit out, and you nodded with a shrug.
“It doesn’t…but…for a while I kind of believed I’d brought that on myself.”
JJ looked like he didn’t know how to take in what you’d told him, pink lips pressed together as he just studied your face. The bruising under your eye was practically nonexistent, and you shuddered when he reached up to lightly graze the skin with his fingers. You’d been exceptionally agreeable since the incident, dreading a repeat of the night where Rafe forced himself on you so violently that you’d had to strip the sheets.
JJ suddenly blinked, brows twitching, and there was an unsure look on his face.
“Can I ask you something?” he wondered, voice low, and you nodded.
A look passed over his face that you couldn’t place, and he seemed to be thinking hard about whatever was on his mind.
“A little over a year ago…”
You felt your shoulders droop, almost positive you knew where he was going with this.
“Sarah told us how you and Rafe had called the police one day.”
You sighed, recalling the story Ward had repeated. Neighbors were bound to notice a police car in the yard, bound to spread gossip, and he couldn’t very well tell people the truth.
“She didn’t know what for. Said that Ward wouldn’t tell her…”
JJ’s words died in the air as you stood, his hands falling from you. You tried not to think about that day if you could help it, and you were surprised by the quick procession of tears. JJ stood with you while you wiped your face, and you knew what he was going to ask before he even opened his mouth.
“Did you call the cops? On him?”
By his tone, you could tell that he knew the answer, and when you sniffed, JJ was there. He turned you around and pulled you against him. The reminder of that day—and all the emotions that weighed you down that evening—had more tears escaping against your will. You twisted your fingers into the back of his shirt, trembling in his hold, and JJ held you tighter.
“I thought I was going to die,” you shakily confessed. “I thought he was going to kill me.”
You could feel a shiver crawl down his spine at that.
“He was so mad,” you cried. “He was screaming and throwing glass at me and…he put a gun in my mouth.”
Your face was pressed into the crook of JJ’s neck.
“I didn’t know what else to do. I really thought…” you trailed off, squeezing your eyes shut. “It’s why I didn’t even want to talk to you. I didn’t want to go through that again for something as stupid as a smile.”
JJ seemed to freeze at that, and when he pulled away a bit, his gaze was questioning.
“What…?”
You opened and closed your mouth while JJ just stared at you, blue eyes glinting as his mind started to put the pieces together.
“What do you mean? Are you saying…?”
“No! JJ, that wasn’t your fault, it was mine.”
“Stop saying that,” he breathed. “What the hell do you mean? Are you saying Rafe did that because…?”
You rubbed your forehead, sighing.
“JJ, it wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who smiled back at you that day at The Wreck. Rafe saw.”
You swore you saw the color drain from his face, and you watched JJ stumble back, falling to sit on the edge of the couch. He was staring up at you with parted lips, and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that he was going over that interaction in his mind. It was such a simple and harmless interaction…one that had an almost fatal consequence.
JJ ran his hands down his face.
“…and when I told Rafe that you’d apologized to me?”
His voice was low—troubled—and when he lifted his gaze to meet yours, you only pulled your lip between your teeth. When you didn’t respond right away, you watched him exhale, shoulders sagging as he buried his face into his hands.
“JJ, that wasn’t your fault.”
I’m an idiot,” he choked out.
“JJ…” you whispered. “You couldn’t have known.”
“That doesn’t matter!”
He was standing, now, and you hated the conflict and regret you saw in his eyes.
“I knew he treated you like shit,” he spat, gesturing towards the door. “I knew it would piss him off.”
“JJ,” you reached for him.
“I just thought you guys would argue a little,” he whispered, and you rested your hand on his arm. “I didn’t know that he was…”
You held his gaze—yours pleading—as you tried to get him to see that it wasn’t his fault. You needed JJ to understand that there was no way he could’ve known. Sarah lived under the same roof as Rafe—and you half the time—and she still didn’t know. You weren’t going to fault JJ for thinking Rafe was only capable of being a little bit of an asshole.
When JJ’s hand rested on your cheek, your heart skipped a beat.
He was getting closer, and you should’ve been stopping him. The truth was that you felt safe with JJ, and you didn’t want to. The beginning of your relationship with Rafe felt like ages ago, so this safe—and excited feeling—you were experiencing with JJ felt almost new. When his nose touched yours, you placed your hand on his chest.
“I never would’ve done that if I had known…”
“I know you wouldn’t,” you reassured him, swallowing when his other hand touched your waist, fingers grazing the skin from where your shirt rode up. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” JJ argued. “You were right that day. I was being an asshole.”
When his lips brushed yours, you shook your head.
“JJ-.”
The rest of your words were swallowed when his lips covered yours, following you every time you tried to step back. It had been a week since he kissed you last, and the way he moved his mouth over yours told you that he would do it every day if he could. His hands were all over you, and you gasped into his mouth when they rested on the small of your back, pinning your lower half against him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your lips. “I’m really fucking sorry.”
When your back met the wall, JJ wasted no time in pressing his knee between your legs, and you couldn’t hold in the shudder as he pressed his leg against your clothed mound. Things felt like they were moving too fast, so much so that you didn’t even realize what was happening until you moaned, JJ forcing you to grind yourself against his leg.
His hands were tight on your waist, and his lips had just traveled to your neck when your phone rang.
It startled you and angered JJ, the blond letting out a frustrated huff. It was Rafe—you knew it was Rafe—the other blond calling you almost every hour from the moment he’d left. JJ’s hands briefly squeezed your waist before forcing himself to pull away. His blue eyes glinted, and when you studied his face, he only shook his head.
Reluctantly, he let you go.
“Hey,” you softly said the moment you answered the phone.
You avoided JJ’s gaze as Rafe’s voice filled your ear.
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“You know what? I actually think I’m gonna just head home.”
JJ’s voice reached you from the kitchen, and you only briefly glanced up as Pope responded.
“Seriously man? Now, you don’t even want to go out anymore? You made such a fuss!”
“Yeah, I know,” the blond said, and you heard Sarah say something—probably to John B. “…but I’m not feeling too good, and I think I’m just going to go home.”
Pope sounded disappointed—as did John B. —but they didn’t argue with him much over it. You were currently in the Cameron’s kitchen getting something to eat, and you had been since Sarah, her boyfriend, Pope, and JJ came inside under the reasoning that Pope had to pee.
“We’re just going to hang out with some people at the beach,” she’d said.
You could see it in her eyes then that she’d wanted to ask you to join them, but even if you hadn’t given her a look warning her off of that, Rafe’s tight grip on you was clear. If Sarah thought he was strict before, then it was nothing in comparison to how he was now after the incident at The Chateau. His phone call only moments ago was proof of it.
“How are you going to get back?” Sarah wondered, her voice pulling you from your thoughts.
“You know I’ll find a way,” JJ told her, tone light and boastful.
She made an unsure sound before letting it go.
“Well, leave before Rafe gets back. I don’t want a phone call from Rose or Y/N telling me that my brother and my friend got into a fight.”
You closed the fridge as the rest of them filed out, telling JJ to call them when he made it back to The Cut. The house was oddly quiet, and while you wanted to pretend like you weren’t alone in the house with JJ—Rose didn’t count—it was kind of hard to do when you turned around to find him at the kitchen entrance.
He was wearing some shirt with the sleeves cut off—as he often did—and you tried not to let your gaze linger on his arms.
“I hope you didn’t do that for me…”
The smirk that danced along his lips gave you your answer.
“Maybe,” he shrugged, stepping into the kitchen. “I was kind of hoping Rafe wouldn’t be here.”
“…and he could walk in at any moment…as is his right. Considering,” you gestured around. “…this is his house.”
JJ leaned his arms on the other side of the counter, gazing up at you as you grabbed a paper towel.
“Hey, I’m sure I could find some excuse if he catches me in here…”
He straightened, slowly making his way around the island, and you didn’t miss that mischievous glint in his blue eyes.
“If he manages to find me on top of you…maybe I could even tell him I forced you into it.”
“JJ…” you said, taking a step back.
He held your gaze for a few moments before looking away with a shake of his head.
“Why do you feel bad about what you’re doing? He treats you like shit,” he chuckled, but it lacked humor.
You looked away from him, shrugging.
“I’m not doing anything,” you whispered.
He didn’t respond right away, and you didn’t hear him move closer, so you shuddered when you felt his fingers grazing the side of your face.
“You shouldn’t feel bad about kissing me,” he quietly told you. “If you ask me, you should be doing a lot worse.”
When you looked at him again, he was much closer than you’d anticipated, and you sharply inhaled. Despite his cheeky nature, you could see the way his eyes dimmed as he looked at you.
“Every time I think about him…and you…I think I could kill him.”
You frowned at his confession, shaking your head.
“JJ…”
“I would if you asked me to,” he continued, moving closer. “I’d drown him in the fucking ocean.”
“You can’t-! You can’t say things like that,” you said, voice lowering.
“Why not?” he curiously wondered. “You’re telling me you don’t want him dead for everything he’s put you through? There was blood on your sheets last week-.”
“I know,” you cut him off. “I was there, remember?”
You watched JJ take a deep breath, and he seemed to be calming himself down. The silence was a little tense, and you worriedly eyed the entrance, expecting Rafe to just show up at any moment. When JJ took your hand, you tried to pull it away, but he wouldn’t let you. You found yourself between him and the counter, and your heart was in your throat.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just…don’t understand why you’re fighting me.”
Your eyes burned, and you briefly looked towards the ceiling.
“…because,” you breathed. “He’s still my boyfriend.”
“The only reason you’re with him is because you don’t want him to fucking murder you,” JJ sneered. “That’s not a relationship, that’s a hostage situation.”
You couldn’t disagree with JJ’s assessment, and you both knew it.
“He enjoys treating you like shit…so why can’t you bring yourself to enjoy treating him like shit?”
Again, JJ’s logic wasn’t wrong, and you briefly closed your eyes with a sigh.
“…because if he caught me, he’d kill me,” you whispered.
When JJ’s hand touched your face again, you held his gaze. The smile he gave you was small, and your heart fluttered when he brushed his thumb over your skin.
“What did I say earlier?” he mockingly replied. “Let him try to kill me for fucking his girlfriend, I don’t care.”
He pressed his lips to yours.
“I just want you to stop feeling guilty over that asshole because he doesn’t deserve it.”
You chewed on your lip as he ran his eyes over your face, and when he was about to kiss you again, you shook your head.
“You should go. Sarah was right, Rafe could be back at any moment, and… That’s not a fight I think I’ll ever be ready for,” you sighed, moving from between him and the counter.
JJ seemed reluctant, but he eventually obliged, grazing his hand along your waist on the way out.
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Rafe’s light snores grew quieter the moment you closed the door behind you.
He’d come to your house drunk and stumbling, too wasted to even fuck you—although it wasn’t for lack of trying. Naturally, he wouldn’t hear a word you said about drunk driving, waving you off and laughing in your face. After his second failed attempt to stay awake, he merely rolled off of you, his even breathing reaching your ears only moments later.
You’d pulled your knees up to your chest, eyeing him for the longest time and mulling over your conversation with JJ. You knew that the other blond wasn’t wrong. Rafe had done—and would do—much worse to you. Your relationship wasn’t a relationship, at all, but instead a prison, and maybe you shouldn’t feel guilty for finding some semblance of happiness. No matter where it came from.
Once alcohol knocked Rafe out, he was pretty much dead to the world for hours.
…and that was how you found yourself putting on shoes while he slept. You might’ve been more nervous and scared if you weren’t so in tune with Rafe’s patterns. There was no doubt in your mind that he wouldn’t wake up until at least noon the following day, but you still kept your steps light as you made your way down the stairs. You couldn’t stop your heart from racing, and your fingers shook while you disabled the alarm.
The walk across the lawn felt too long, and if you hadn’t already psyched yourself up, you might’ve turned around and went back inside the house. Out of paranoia, you looked over your shoulder, relieved to see that your room was still dark with no sign of movement in the window. JJ didn’t open the door right away when you knocked.
However, once fatigue faded a bit, and he realized that it was indeed you through the cracked door, he was swinging it open and pulling you inside.
“I just…wanted to sleep here for a few hours I guess,” you murmured, still feeling unsure.
JJ shifted on his feet, and you only then noticed his bare chest. The plaid pants he wore hung low on his hips, and you told yourself you weren’t here for anything like that.
“…and Rafe…?”
“So drunk that not even an earthquake could wake him,” you said with a shrug.
JJ pulled his lip between his teeth, eyeing you with a look that was hard to name. He didn’t respond right away, just staring at you and studying you. His light hair was going every which way, some hanging into his face, and one hand ran through it when the other eventually reached for you.
“I’m glad you came,” he whispered, pulling you to him.
The pool house wasn’t as big as others you’d seen—namely some of your former friends—but it was spacious enough for both a living room and a decent sized bedroom. JJ’s hand was tight on yours as he pulled you through the threshold, and you glanced around, recalling that you hadn’t been inside the bedroom since high school. The bedding was askew, obviously lived in, and you were glad your parents barely paid the building any mind outside of the yearly spring cleaning.
“Do you like staying here?” you asked him, sitting on the edge of the bed.
JJ found that funny.
“If you’d ever seen my place, you’d know how crazy that question is,” he told you, plopping down beside you. “I love staying here.”
His face was close to yours.
“…and not just because of the 100 thread count sheets or whatever.”
He shrugged at you, eyebrows waggling, and you fought back a smile.
“I guess I’ll have to see your place to give me some perspective then.”
His own smile twitched, and you didn’t like the way his face fell a bit.
“Nah,” he breathed. “That’s…not something I want you to see.”
You felt your own face fall.
“…I mean, I know things with your father are pretty…ugly, but it’s where you grew up, isn’t it?”
Your tone was a little hopeful, and you watched JJ watch you. His blue eyes shined in the darkness, and you didn’t miss the way his smile grew again. When he reached for your face, he let out a light laugh.
“Yeah…yeah it is where I grew up,” he confirmed. “I guess you’re right about that.”
He pulled you with him as he laid down, and you faced him on your side.
“We’ll have to find some way to get you back to The Cut then,” he whispered.
At the reminder of your last visit, you both grew quiet. You were sure you both were remembering that morning when Rafe came to pick you up, and you recalled your next reunion with JJ, feeling comforted that he was so worried about you the entire time. As if thinking of the exact same thing, he touched the skin under your eye, and before you could say anything, JJ leaned in to touch it with his lips.
“I really hate that you’re with him,” he said after a while, pulling away. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
You took a deep breath at that, reaching out and touching his arm, thoughtful.
“…and you do…?”
When you lifted your gaze, your eyes met his again.
“I like to think that I do,” he murmured, fingers dancing towards your chin.
JJ pulled you into a kiss, and despite the fact that this wasn’t what you snuck out of the house for, you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach flipped. In this moment, JJ felt like your boyfriend—lying in bed with you and talking to you and kissing you. It was the most relaxed you’d felt in bed for a long time, and you knew it was a feeling you could get used to…and have trouble going without.
“What are we doing?” you found yourself whispering in the darkness.
You looked between his eyes as you asked this.
“Rafe’s…asleep in my bedroom…and I…” you scoffed. “I’m here with you.”
“It’s sexy, isn’t it…”
“JJ,” you sighed. “I’m serious. Like…what are we doing?”
You were sure that your worry was all over your face.
“We don’t have to have an answer for that, right now,” was his response, hand touching your waist. “I just want to help you forget about Rafe, sometimes.”
He kissed you again.
“I want you to be with someone you don’t have to be afraid of,” he murmured against your lips. “Someone you can relax with.”
He pulled you closer, rolling you both, and when he rested on top of you, you pressed your hands to his arms.
“JJ, I don’t… I’m not comfortable with anything like that yet.”
Your lips brushed his as you spoke, and you swallowed.
“Kissing you and sneaking around to talk to you is one thing, but…”
You didn’t know why, but going beyond that in any way would make what you were doing seem too real—too deceptive. JJ didn’t seem to care about that though, pressing his lips to yours again.
“Do you trust me?” he wondered into the kiss.
“Yes, but-.”
“…but what?” his nose touched yours as he pulled back, holding your gaze. “You’re just scared because Rafe’s intimidated you and beaten you down so much that you’re afraid to do anything for yourself.”
Was that the root of it? It was true, of course, but you also still felt uncomfortable.
“I don’t know…”
“Hasn’t Rafe also been the only guy you’ve ever been with?”
You gave a reluctant nod, and JJ smiled at you.
“…and you don’t think that has something to do with it? You being scared of what you don’t know…?”
That was also true, and JJ took your silence as consent, kissing you again as his hand trailed down your frame. You made a slight noise of protest when his hand slipped between your thighs, Rafe’s t-shirt riding up. The blond on top of you swallowed it down, refusing to break the kiss, and you jerked when his fingers brushed over your underwear.
“JJ,” you said when you turned your head away, pushing at his arm.
“It’s okay,” he breathed against your cheek. “Trust me.”
When you looked at him again, his fingers were already tracing circles over where your opening was through the fabric. His blond hair touched your forehead.
“I would never hurt you,” he assured you, more pressure from his fingers, now.
You involuntarily lifted your hips, and you didn’t know if it was to push him away or get closer. You wanted to push him away, not quite okay with taking things this far just yet. In truth, you didn’t know if you’d ever be, and you thought about what JJ said. Maybe you were just scared, but did you fix that by pushing yourself to do something you weren’t ready for?
You supposed it didn’t matter, anyway.
JJ’s fingers were circling your clit, panties resting on his hand as he touched you. His lips trailed kisses along your neck, and without thinking, you threw your head back. You forgot all about Rafe who was knocked out drunk in your bed, none the wiser to JJ’s fingers sliding between your lower lips. You could feel genuine excitement, something you hadn’t felt in a long time, and you sighed when he dragged his fingers between your folds.
You could tell that JJ was being mindful of whatever lasting damage there still might be from last week.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, lips at the corner of your mouth. “…and wet.”
You shuddered at those words and the feel of the tips of his fingers just barely dipping into you before he pulled them out.
“Do you get this wet for Rafe?”
The mention of your boyfriend had your heart skipping a beat, but the feel of JJ’s fingers massaging your soaking cunt had you answering honestly.
“No,” you breathed, and you felt him smirk against your skin.
“I want to fuck you so bad,” he confessed.
“JJ,” you warned, hand on his wrist.
“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but a guy can dream.”
You pulled your lip between your teeth.
“I think about it a lot…pushing my cock into you and watching you stretch around me…”
When you softly moaned at that, JJ hummed.
“Do you think about it too? About milking me dry?”
You clenched around nothing, aching as he circled his fingers.
“…because I do…especially in his bed,” you dug your nails into his skin. “Fucking you until you come on his sheets, letting me fill you up right where he sleeps.”
You gently shuddered, your orgasm washing over you as you wrapped your other arm around him. JJ rode the wave with you, fingers rubbing against you, playing with you as you soaked them.
“Atta girl,” he whispered against your lips, and you felt slightly disbelieving at what had just occurred.
The proof was smeared on the inside of your thighs, but even when you watched JJ place his fingers into his mouth, it still didn’t feel real. JJ wouldn’t let you go as you caught your breath, kissing you again when you finally did.
“See,” he quietly told you. “That wasn’t so bad.”
He may have been right in some aspects, but JJ’s way around words and that tempting influence of his had you worried about what else you’d convince yourself you wanted.
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stargirllanaa · 1 year ago
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Pretty when you cry
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Warnings: NON-CON SMUT, Dark!Rafe, Toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, domestic violence, drug-use, manipulation, lying
Summary: Heavily Based on ‘Pretty when your cry’ by Lana Del Rey, like really heavily, Your relationship with Rafe Cameron is falling apart before you’re eyes.
A/n: First smut 🫣 anyway, request are open so hit my inbox with your darkest ideas! I would definitely recommend listen to Pretty when you cry by Lana Del Rey while reading!! Enjoy <3
Wc: 2k
18+ ONLY MINOR DNI!!
Your friend group had planned a fun night all together; you were all going to stay at the beach till dark and watch the stars. You had been looking forward to it; things had been rocky with Rafe, and you just wanted to get out and enjoy a night with your friends and boyfriend.
As you applied your blush, you were completely lost in thought; images of a few nights ago and your encounter with your boyfriend flashed through your brain.
You tried to focus on your makeup routine, but the bruises that were revealed on your wrist when your sweatshirt sleeve fell were a constant reminder.
“Are you serious, Rafe?” You questioned your boyfriend when you caught him in the bathroom doing a line.
“You said you were done... You said you were quitting.” disappointment filled your voice.
He looked up at you with dilated pupils, trying to wipe away the white powdery residue from under his nose.
“I'm sorry baby… I-” he thought to himself for a minute.
You signed in response.
“I should have known…” you softly said under your breath,
“No… listen…I got into a fight with my dad earlier...This is the last time...” The blonde promised you in a shaky tone.
Your eyes shot to the leftover coke on your bathroom counter; there were about two lines left, you didn't want that shit in your house, and more importantly, you didn't want him doing that shit in your house. So you moved your hand over, ready to wipe it straight onto the floor.
But Rafe saw it coming; he had been analyzing your eyes the whole time. He caught your wrist before it came close to the counter; his grip was tight and rough.
“Come on, baby, don't make this complicated.” your boyfriend threatened as his grip got tighter and tighter.
“Rafe, you're hurting me,” you said as your eyes brimmed with hot tears.
“You’re hurting me, y/n!” he pulled you closer to him; the scent of his cologne was so strong it made you nauseous. “You know I'm going through stuff and… mess up sometimes! And I-”
“You promised me, Rafe!” you cut him off. “You promised you would stop.” tears spilled over, and you smiled, lacking happiness. “But you don't care about that, do you?”
His eyes narrowed at your words, and his grip on your wrist became tighter, causing you to let out a sob.
“You clearly don't give a shit about spending time with me because you're high all the time.” you voiced between sobs. “You don't even give a shit about me…you care about one thing,” you said, voice broken as you used your free hand to point at the two remaining lines on the countertop.
Rafe said nothing, but you could tell you were spot on by how he looked around as his breathing sped up.
He dropped your wrist before leaving the bathroom and the lines he had just fought you over; he made sure to slam the door and stomp down the stairs.
You shivered as you thought about how tight he was holding on to you, but he was high, and people do crazy things under the influence. But the problem was Rafe had been under the influence a lot recently.
And every time he hurt you, it would always go the same way; you guys would argue, usually about his drug problem. He would hurt you, usually to make you shut up. Sometimes were worse than others, but it always ended in you sobbing and him profusely apologizing. He blamed it on the drugs…his dad and you would forgive him. Or he would just leave you there and text you ‘sorry’ later.
You missed the days when the two of you first started dating; everything seemed so simple and sweet… So normal.
You and your boyfriend were going ice skating together; you were excited but nervous. It was your first time, and you didn't want to fall and embarrass yourself.
As you entered the rink, you immediately held onto the railing as you tried to keep your feet in place. They were slipping and sliding everywhere, and the railing was your only hope not to fall and bust your ass.
“Baby,” Rafe said with a slight laugh as he stuck his hand out. “I got you; hold my hand.”
You took his hand, one hand on the railing, one in his. He showed you how to push yourself forward and keep balance, but you were still struggling.
“How do you do that,” you said with a chuckle as if he was a professional ice skater.
“Youre cute,” the blonde said with a smile; the truth was you were the girl he had always dreamed of; you were so naive.
You always hoped he would stop using and times could return to how they were, but part of you knew things would never be how they were; they hadn't been in a long time.
Looking back at the mirror, you realized you had been applying blush to one cheek for about 2 minutes. You needed to finish getting ready. Things would be better tonight, at least you hoped they would be.
When you made it to the beach, Rafe wasn't there yet; that was fine, though he was probably late, traffic or something. You tried your best to focus on your friends, the music, and the alcohol, but as the night went on and the stars came out, Rafe's lack of presence was very noticeable. Your friends and even his friends had asked you where he was, and you just responded with a quiet ‘he’ll be here soon.’ was that true? You didn't know. He wasn't answering texts or calls; you even dm’ed him on Instagram, hoping for a response.
But he didn't show up, he didn't come through… he never did.
And as you looked up at the stars surrounded by friends, all you could think about was when Rafe told you that ‘all the pretty stars had shined for you.’
———-
One of your friends dropped you back home after your night out. Rafe was supposed to take you home with him, but it was apparent why that didn't happen.
As soon as you started taking off your jewelry, your phone started ringing; you looked over at it to see who was calling and quickly picked it up.
“Rafe, are fucking kiddi-” you started.
“Open the door. I'm outside,” he stated before hanging up.
You rolled your eyes at the sound of him ending the call; you were so fucking angry. The two of you were supposed to have fun tonight, not fight. He stood you up. He did this shit all the time, using stupid excuses like, ‘I lost track of time,’ ‘my dad and I got into a fight again,’ and ‘I fell asleep.’ But those excuses could only work so many times.
As you stomped down your stairs to the front door, you took a deep breath; you didn't want things to go left more than they already had, but that didn't stop you from opening the door when your gut told you not to.
Rafe pushed past you, letting himself into your house.
“Baby, I'm sorry I lost track of time.” classic Rafe.
You looked down at your phone, taking in the time, then back at him.
“For 4 hours, Rafe?” You scoffed at his words; how many times would he use that excuse?
“The ‘fight with your dad’ would have worked better this time.” you sarcastically stated as you rolled your eyes.
“Don't be like that.” the blonde spoke as he walked closer to you.
“No, don't tell me how to act! You always do this to me.” your eyes brimmed with tears as you thought about how broken your relationship was.
Rafe brought his hand up to your face, initially causing you to flinch, but he brought it closer to the top of your head and began stroking your hair.
“I'm sorry… stuff's been hard for me with my da-.” he started.
“I can't do this.” you tearfully confessed, trying to pull away from him.
His hand paused in your hair, but he still kept you close.
“What do you mean ‘you can't do this?’” your boyfriend questioned, voice mixed with confusion and anger.
“Rafe, let go of me.” you calmly stated, trying to get away before things got ugly.
The hand stroking your hair was now grabbing a handful of it; he pulled you back slightly, but only enough to make eye contact.
“I need you, y/n,” Rafe said as his eyes narrowed.
“Don't say that-” you stated under your breath, looking down at the floor.
“Don't say I need you?” the blonde asked you as he pulled your hair slightly, forcing you to look back at him.
“You know you're just gonna leave again,” you shouted through tears.
Rafe looked away from you, thinking of what he should do; he needed you; you couldn't leave; you couldn't just decide that you ‘couldn't do this.’. He had to show you how much he needed you.
You gasped as Rafe’s grip on your hair tightened as he started dragging you. The pain coming from your head was so brutal it left you screaming for him to stop. Before you knew it, he pulled you up by your hair and pushed you back onto the couch. You were terrified; when you looked into his eyes, they were darker, just like they were the night he grabbed your wrist, and every time he had ever hurt you before, but you were confused; he usually just slapped and pushed you around. This was a different level; he had never taken it this far.
“Rafe!” was all you screamed out before he cut you off.
“You don't think I need you?” he smirked before pushing your hair back so he could see your whole face. “I need you so bad you don't even understand.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering how hurting you could possibly show that he needed you, but when you saw him start to undo his pants, everything became a lot clearer.
“Rafe..” you trailed off, hoping he wasn't about to do what you thought he was.
“Shhh baby... You’re okay.” the blonde says as he reaches under your skirt.
“No, I can't do this,” you said as you tried to sit up, but your boyfriend immediately pushed you back down.
“I told you to shut the fuck up.” He hissed, clearly annoyed by your words; he had already made up his mind; there was no going back now.
And when you felt him inside of you, you couldn't stop the sobs that escaped from the back of your throat, and when you glanced back at him to see him staring directly into your eyes while taking advantage of you, it made your stomach turn.
“Fuck” Rafe said with a moan, “you're so pretty when you cry.”
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ch0llies · 14 days ago
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REVIVAL | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO
A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend's Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo-your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there's no escaping Chris- or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?
story warning: this story includes very toxic and abusive behavior. none of the actions or words in this series are justified and are written exclusively for entertainment purposes only. under no circumstances are they personally associated with chris other than just using him as the main character. read at your own discretion. now that that is cleared up, there will be filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!
word count: 4k
CHAPTER SIX:
Two Months Later
The cycle never ended. If anything it got worse. Chris pulled you in, made you believe you were something to him, only to push you away the second you got too close. And the worst part? You let him. Over and over and over again.
Some days, he was all over you- his hands on your waist, his lips ghosting over your skin, whispering things that made you forget everything except him. And then, the next day, he’d act like you barely existed. He’d brush past you without a word, act cold, distant, and cruel, as if the night before never happened. And every time you told yourself you wouldn’t fall for it again, that you’d shut him out, he’d find a way back in.
It was exhausting. It was toxic. And yet, you couldn’t stop.
To make matters worse, the triplets’ channel had blown up. In just two months, they’d gained over 20,000 subscribers, and their videos were pulling in thousands of views daily. With their rapid growth, filming had become their priority- meaning your apartment had basically turned into their second home.
Matt had even moved in with you and Ava, claiming he “practically lived here anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. He and Ava were inseparable, and while you loved having him around, it also meant dealing with the other side of their relationship- the constant sex, the loud giggles coming from her bedroom at ungodly hours, and the way they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Chris, of course, was around even more now because of it. Between filming, editing, and brainstorming video ideas, he was constantly in your space, constantly finding new ways to get under your skin.
Right now, the living room was a mess of cameras, lighting stands, and random props as the boys set up for another video.
“You’re sure this is okay?” Nick asked, adjusting the camera on its tripod. “We don’t wanna be in your way, Y/N.”
You scoffed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Nick, you guys have basically been living here for weeks. I think we passed the ‘in my way’ phase a long time ago.”
He grinned. “Fair enough.”
Matt jogged into the room, wrapping an arm around Ava’s waist and spinning her in a quick circle before setting her down with a loud kiss. She giggled, slapping his chest playfully, and you rolled your eyes.
“You two make me sick,” you muttered.
“You’re just jealous,” Ava shot back, smirking.
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, you felt it- Chris’s presence behind you. Close. Too close.
“You should be jealous,” he murmured in your ear, his voice just low enough for only you to hear. “They have their whole life planned out and you? You’re just my bitch.”
Your stomach twisted as his words sank in, a familiar frustration bubbling to the surface. You turned to face him, but he was already walking away, joining Matt and Nick by the camera, acting as if he hadn’t just whispered something that would sit in your head all night.
This was how it always was. He got under your skin, made sure you knew he was in control, and then left you stewing in it.
You clenched your jaw, exhaling sharply as you grabbed a pepsi from the fridge. If this was your life now- Chris everywhere, pushing and pulling, never letting you breathe- you were going to have to figure out how to survive it.
Even if it meant pretending he didn’t affect you. Even if it meant lying to yourself every single day.
The video wrapped up after another chaotic hour of filming, and soon enough, everyone collapsed onto the couch, exhausted but still buzzing with leftover energy. You sat wedged between Ava and Nick, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as the boys talked about their next upload.
Chris was sprawled on the other end of the couch, legs stretched out, his fingers lazily tapping against his thigh. The air between you was already tense- it always was- but tonight, there was something different, something thicker and heavier lingering between you.
Then, out of nowhere, Chris scoffed loudly, his eyes dragging over you with an expression you couldn’t quite place-but you knew it wasn’t good.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked suddenly, his tone dripping with amusement and something sharper, something meant to cut.
Your head snapped up, your stomach twisting immediately. “What?”
He gestured vaguely at your oversized hoodie and bike shorts, his smirk deepening. “Did you gain weight or something?”
Your breath hitched in your throat, and the room went still. Ava and Matt were still laughing about something, not fully tuned into the conversation yet, but Nick caught it. His head snapped toward Chris, his expression shifting into something wary.
You clenched your jaw, heat rising to your face. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Chris leaned back against the armrest, completely unfazed. “I mean, you just look… bigger. Maybe it’s the outfit.”
Something inside you snapped.
Before you could think, you were lunging over Ava, your hands flying toward him as pure rage overtook every rational thought. Ava yelped as you climbed over her, and before Chris could react, your palm connected with his cheek in a sharp slap that echoed through the apartment.
“What the fuck, Y/N?!” Matt barked, grabbing you before you could strike again.
Nick shot up from the couch, eyes wide. “What the hell is going on?”
Chris barely flinched from the slap, his jaw tightening as he wiped at his cheek. His expression was unreadable, but you could feel the anger radiating off of him. Matt still had his arms wrapped around you, keeping you from lunging again, but you shoved him off roughly, stepping back and breathing heavily.
“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on,” you spat, glaring down at Chris. “Your brother just called me fucking fat, that’s what’s fucking going on.”
Ava’s mouth dropped open, and Nick immediately turned to Chris, his face a mix of shock and disgust. “Dude, what?”
Chris just smirked, rubbing his jaw where you had slapped him. “You’re overreacting.”
You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “Overreacting? That’s real fucking funny, considering you were telling me how much you loved my body when you were inside it the other night.”
The entire room went silent.
Ava’s head whipped toward you so fast you thought she might get whiplash. Matt and Nick both froze, their faces morphing from confusion to complete shock.
Chris’s smirk immediately disappeared, his entire body tensing. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he pushed himself off the couch.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped, his voice low, dangerous.
He took a step toward you, and you squared your shoulders, refusing to back down.
Matt and Nick immediately jumped up, stepping between the two of you as Ava stared in horror, trying to process what she had just heard.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Matt said, holding a hand out toward Chris. “What the fuck is happening right now?”
Nick’s eyes darted between the two of you, his face pinched in disbelief. “You guys have been sleeping together again?”
Chris didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes locked on you, his fists clenched at his sides. The anger rolling off him was palpable, but you weren’t scared. Not even a little. You were pissed.
You took a step closer, tilting your head up to meet his glare. “Nah,” you said, shaking your head. “Let him go. What’s he gonna do, huh?”
Chris took another step forward, getting right in your face, his chest barely brushing against yours.
You didn’t flinch. You didn’t blink. You just smirked up at him, pushing every ounce of anger and adrenaline into your words.
“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice dripping with venom. “That’s what I fucking thought.”
Chris’s hand shot out before you could react, gripping your jaw roughly and tilting your face up toward him. His fingers pressed into your skin, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the control he he had. His blue eyes burned into yours, his expression a mixture of fury and amusement.
“You’re gonna regret this,” he muttered, his voice low and threatening.
Ava gasped loudly from behind you. “Chris, what the fuck?”
Nick and Matt immediately moved forward, their faces twisting in anger.
“Whoa, dude,” Matt barked, pushing forward. “Fucking watch it.”
Before you could even react, Matt shoved him back roughly, breaking his hold on you. Chris stumbled, falling back onto the couch with a heavy thud. His smirk returned, but this time it was darker, more twisted.
“Nah,” Chris said, shaking his head as he adjusted his jaw, his eyes flicking back to you. “If we’re gonna go there…” He let his words hang in the air for a second before locking onto you with a look that sent your blood boiling. “Why don’t you tell them how much you like being manhandled by me?”
Your whole body tensed, your vision going red. Your heart pounded so loud you could barely hear Ava’s shocked gasp or Nick’s stunned, “What the fuck?”
Chris just smiled evilly, watching as the words settled over the room, as the weight of them crushed you under embarrassment and anger.
Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms.
You lunged for him again.
Chris didn’t even flinch, just smirked wider, waiting for you to completely snap.
But before you could reach him, Ava stepped in front of you, pressing her hands against your shoulders. “Okay, that’s enough- let’s just go upstairs.”
You shoved her hands off roughly. “Nah,” you spat, shaking your head, eyes locked on Chris. “He’s fucking getting it. I’m sick of his shit.”
Chris just sat there, leaning back lazily on the couch like he hadn’t just lit a match and dropped it on a pile of gasoline. His smirk never faltered. If anything, he looked thrilled by your reaction, like this was exactly what he wanted.
Matt and Nick both moved in again, their faces set in frustration, trying to de-escalate, but you didn’t care.
Your blood was boiling, your hands shaking with rage.
You were done playing his game. And if Chris wanted a war, he was fucking getting one.
Chris stood back up, towering over you, his smirk now fully twisted into something cruel and enjoying this. His blue eyes glinted with satisfaction, like he wanted you to react, wanted to break you down in front of everyone.
“Yeah,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “Go ahead, Y/N. Tell them.” He took a step closer, tilting his head as his voice dropped into something even darker, something condescending. “Tell them how much you like me grabbing you like that. How you beg for me to be rougher. How you whine for me to touch you. How fucking pathetic you are for me.”
Your whole body went rigid, your breathing sharp and uneven as the words sank in, hot and humiliating.
Ava gasped again, but she didn’t step in this time.
Nick muttered, “Dude- what the actual fuck?”
Matt looked at you with a mixture of confusion and concern, but all you could hear was Chris. His words burned into your skin like fire, filling you with a rage so consuming you didn’t even think-
You lunged.
This time, no one was there to stop you.
Your hands collided with his chest as you shoved him back with everything you had. But Chris barely moved. He let out a low chuckle, his smirk deepening, enjoying your reaction.
Before you could strike again, his hands snatched your wrists, his grip strong and unyielding. In one swift movement, he twisted your arms together, locking them in place as you struggled.
“You never learn, do you?” he muttered, shaking his head as if he pitied you.
You thrashed against his grip, but he didn’t budge. His fingers tightened around your wrists, his hold completely inescapable. Your breathing was ragged, your chest rising and falling too fast, your anger consuming every rational thought.
Then, without another word, he started dragging you away.
“Chris, let go of me!” you yelled, twisting in his hold, but he didn’t stop.
“Woah- wait, wait, wait!” Matt’s voice rang out, his footsteps moving toward you both.
“Nah, what the fuck?” Nick snapped, his voice sharper now. “You can’t just take her like that!”
“Chris-” Ava started, stepping forward, her tone full of warning. “Bring my girl back- NOW!”
Chris ignored all of them. His grip on you stayed firm, his body radiating nothing but control as he dragged you toward the hallway, toward somewhere away from them. Somewhere just you and him.
Ava’s panicked voice cut through the tension. “Matt, do something!”
Matt didn’t hesitate. He surged forward and shoved Chris back- hard. Chris stumbled a step, his grip loosening on you just enough for you to break free.
Matt got right up in his face, his jaw clenched, eyes blazing. “Yo, you wanna put your hands on someone? Let’s go, kid.”
Chris let out a low, humorless laugh, rolling his shoulders like he was itching for a fight. “Are we really doing this right now?”
Matt didn’t back down. “Yeah, bud. Let’s do it.”
And then Matt swung.
His fist connected with Chris’s jaw in a clean, sharp hit that sent a crack through the room. Chris staggered back, his tongue swiping over the inside of his cheek where Matt had landed the punch.
But before he could retaliate, you moved.
“Matt, STOP!”
The words flew from your lips before you could even think. Without hesitation, you stepped between them, your hands pressing against Chris’s chest, keeping him from lunging forward.
Matt froze, his breathing ragged as he glared at you. “What the fuck, Y/N?”
Ava’s voice rang out next, full of disbelief. “Are you deadass? Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?!”
You weren’t listening. Your hands instinctively moved to Chris’s face, checking where Matt had hit him, your fingers lightly grazing his jaw. “Are you okay?” you asked breathlessly, your voice softer, concerned.
Chris’s smirk returned- but this one was different. He tilted his head slightly, soaking in the way you were touching him, the way you had stepped in for him instead of letting Matt beat his ass.
And then, before anyone could react, he cupped your face in both hands, his touch almost gentle in contrast to the chaos around you. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, his fingers curling into your hair as he pulled you closer.
Then he leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead.
The action sent shockwaves through the room.
Matt’s fists clenched at his sides. Ava’s jaw dropped in pure disbelief. Nick looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.
Chris’s arms wrapped around your waist, securing you against him as he turned his head just enough to glance at Matt, smug satisfaction dripping from every inch of him.
“See?” Chris murmured, loud enough for everyone to hear. “She’s fine.”
Then, his grip on you tightened slightly, his lips brushing against your temple as he muttered the final nail in the coffin-
“We’re leaving.”
And he started guiding you toward the door, leaving nothing but silence, shock, and the unmistakable feeling that you had just chosen the wrong side. But you knew it would be the side you’d choose again and again and again.
Chris didn’t give anyone time to process what had just happened. He moved swiftly, his grip still firm on your wrist as he led you toward the front door. His eyes flicked toward the table near the entrance, and without hesitation, he grabbed your car keys.
“Chris, what the fuck-” you started, yanking at your arm, but he wasn’t letting go.
Ignoring your protests, he snatched a jacket from the coat rack- the first one he saw- before throwing it over your shoulders. It wasn’t yours. It was his- one of his dark, oversized hoodies, drowning your frame, completely swallowing up the little shorts and shirt you were wearing prior.
And you knew he did it on purpose.
Chris didn’t like other people seeing you like this. Even though he had no right to that opinion. Even though you weren’t his.
But he still covered you up like you were.
He pulled you outside without another word, walking straight toward your car. With one hand, he wrenched the passenger door open, and before you could fight back, he shoved you inside.
“Chris-”
SLAM.
He shut the door before you could finish, storming around the front of the car and sliding into the driver’s seat like it was his car. The second he turned the ignition, the engine roared to life, and his grip tightened around the steering wheel.
Then, without so much as a warning, he peeled out of the driveway, speeding down the street recklessly.
The anger in the air was suffocating.
The silence was short-lived.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” you screamed, whipping around to face him.
Chris’s jaw was locked, his knuckles white around the steering wheel as he refused to look at you. “Shut up.”
“NO!” you snapped, slamming your hands against the dashboard. “PULL THE FUCK OVER!”
Chris laughed. A cold, humorless laugh. “Not a fucking chance.”
Your nails dug into your palms, your rage blinding. “You do NOT get to do this to me, Chris! You do NOT get to fucking drag me out of there like I’m-”
“Like you’re what?” he interrupted sharply, finally cutting his eyes toward you. “Like you’re MINE?”
The car swerved slightly as he took a turn too fast, and your breath caught in your throat.
You weren’t scared.
You were fucking furious.
“I AM NOT YOURS!” you screamed. “I HAVEN’T BEEN YOURS SINCE HIGH SCHOOL, YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!”
Chris slammed his fist against the steering wheel so hard that the entire car shook. His breathing was ragged, his knuckles white, his face twisted in pure, unfiltered rage.
“YOU WERE NEVER MINE IN HIGH SCHOOL!” he shouted, his voice so raw and furious it sent a jolt through your body. “THAT WAS THE FUCKING PROBLEM, YOU CUNT! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO FUCKING LEFT ME!”
Your chest heaved as his words slammed into you like a bullet, but you didn’t back down.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING CALL ME THAT! I LEFT BECAUSE YOU WERE NEVER GONNA BE WHAT I NEEDED, CHRIS!” you screamed, your own voice just as raw. “You never fucking cared about me- not really! You cared about owning me! Controlling me!”
Chris’s jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle twitch. His grip on the wheel tightened, his breath coming out fast and uneven. “Oh, that’s rich,” he sneered. “You think I didn’t fucking care about you? You think I wasn’t fucking obsessed with you? I would’ve burned the entire fucking world down for you, Y/N, and you fucking left.”
His words felt like a slap.
For a second- just a second you saw it.
The real anger. The real pain. The Chris who had been left behind, the Chris you had ghosted, the Chris who had spent years turning that heartbreak into something uglier, something crueler. You did this to him.
But you weren’t about to let him rewrite history to make himself the victim.
“You pushed me away first,” you hissed, your voice shaking with rage. “You never told me what we were, you never let me in, and the second I started moving on, you decided I wasn’t allowed to!”
Chris let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, is that what you tell yourself? That I pushed you away? No, baby.” His voice lowered, his tone sharp as a blade. “You left because someone else gave you a little bit of attention. Because the second you saw an easier option, you fucking took it. You ran the moment things got complicated, because that’s what you do, isn’t it?”
Your hands shook in your lap.
“Fuck you,” you whispered.
Chris smirked, but it wasn’t amused- it was mean. Cruel.
“Oh, I already do,” he murmured. “Over and over again.”
Your body burned with rage, with shame, with the unbearable truth in his words.
He leaned in again, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “And that’s why we’re here. Because you’re mine now, Y/N. Maybe you weren’t back then. But you are now.”
“I AM NOT FUCKING YOURS YOU EVIL, MANIPULATIVE, PIECE OF SHIT! GET OUT OF MY FUCKING LIFE!” You screech, your entire body fighting between the urge to slap him again and the urge to fucking sob.
Chris slammed his fist against the steering wheel again, his knuckle busting open as the car swerved. “Oh, REALLY?” he shouted. “Then why the fuck did you just CHOOSE ME OVER THEM?”
Your mouth opened- but nothing came out.
Chris scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah. That’s what I fucking thought.”
Your blood was boiling. Your hands were shaking. “You are so fucking sick and twisted, Chris-”
“AND YOU FUCKING LOVE IT!” he yelled, voice raw with frustration.
You sucked in a sharp breath, your vision blurring with rage.
“You don’t know shit about what I love,” you spat.
Chris finally slammed the brakes, pulling the car onto the side of the road so fast that your body jerked forward against the seatbelt. His breathing was heavy, his hands still gripping the wheel like he was trying not to completely lose his mind, his knuckle bleeding down his hand but it was like he didn’t even notice.
Then, slowly, too slowly, he turned his head to look at you.
His eyes were burning.
“You’re right,” he murmured, his voice dangerous. “I don’t know shit about what you love.”
He leaned closer, his breath warm against your face as he tilted his head.
“But I do know you love me. That every time I touch you, you melt for me.”
Your heart slammed against your ribs.
“And I know that you can sit here and scream and curse at me all you want, but at the end of the day?” He licked his lips, eyes scanning your face. “You let me do this to you.”
Your breathing was ragged, your throat burning from all the screaming.
Chris smirked, leaning back against his seat. “So, tell me again, Y/N- who’s really the fucking psycho here?”
Your entire body burned with anger, with frustration, with pure, unfiltered rage. You clenched your fists so tight your nails dug into your palms, your breath coming out in ragged gasps.
“YOU’RE THE FUCKING PSYCHO!” you screamed, the words tearing out of you like a final, desperate attempt to shake him, to make him feel something real.
Chris just grinned.
“Oh, baby,” he murmured, shaking his head like he pitied you. “You wanna see psycho?”
And then he closed his eyes.
He shifted into drive and peeled onto the main road without looking.
The tires screeched, the engine roared, and your stomach dropped as the car lurched forward, blindly, into traffic.
“CHRIS!” you shrieked, your hands flying toward him, shaking his arm. “OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!”
But he didn’t.
He laughed.
And kept driving.
The headlights of another car came blaring toward you, horn blaring, tires screeching-
You screamed.
With shaking hands and tears streaming down your face, you yanked the emergency brake, the car swerving violently off the road, your body jerking forward against the seatbelt. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as the car skidded onto the shoulder, your heartbeat pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.
And only then- when the world stopped spinning, when the car settled in the dark stillness of the roadside, when your whole body was shaking with terror- did Chris finally open his fucking eyes.
And the fucker was smiling.
A slow, lazy, utterly thrilled smile, like he had won.
You were still gasping for breath, tears spilling down your face as you tried to process what the fuck just happened, when he reached over and cupped your face in his hands.
“Shh,” he cooed, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his grip firm, inescapable. He leaned in, tilting your chin up, forcing you to look at him through your tears as blood dripped down his fist onto the hoodie you were wearing. “You’re okay, baby. See? I told you you’d be fine.”
And then he kissed you.
You were still crying, still shaking, your whole body running on pure adrenaline, and he fucking kissed you.
His lips moved against yours slowly, deliberately, his grip on your face owning you, holding you in place like you belonged to him. His tongue swiped against your lower lip, his breath hot and steady, like he wasn’t the one who just almost killed you both.
You didn’t kiss him back.
You didn’t fight him off, either.
Because you couldn’t breathe, because you were still trying to process, because you were so fucking scared- and he knew it.
When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, his smirk small, knowing.
“We’re gonna go back to my house,” he murmured, his hands still holding you like you were his. “I’m gonna tell my mom we’re together.”
Your blood ran cold.
“Chris-”
“And you’re gonna be my good girl, just like you always are.” His thumbs brushed your wet cheeks, smearing your tears away. “And you’re gonna play along, okay?”
Your stomach twisted, your throat closing up with a choked sob.
You tried to move, but his hands tightened around your face.
“Okay, baby?” he repeated, softer now, like he was gently coaxing you into insanity.
Your whole body trembled.
“Fuck you,” you whispered, your voice raw, broken.
Chris only grinned.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided, pressing another slow, possessive kiss against your lips, barely letting you breathe. “That’s not very good manners.”
His smirk deepened.
“Mary Lou wouldn’t like that.”
Your stomach dropped, fear curling up your spine like a vice.
Chris let go of your face, his fingers trailing over your jaw as he finally pulled back, shifting his focus back to the road.
Then, without another word, he reached down, undid the emergency brake, and pulled back onto the road towards his family house.
And you just sat there.
A/N: long overdue part!! thank you for being patient!! i actually loved writing this and can’t wait to get back into this series now that earned it is over!!
MASTERLIST
tags: @mattsobvimyfav @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @violetstxrniolo777 @urfungi @jxst-Ixving-bxt-wxerd @chrispycremedonut @ranwa0y @princesspinkkk23 @madisonnxtdoor22 @sturniolohohoho @theboredknightcat-blog @hi-people-who-are-alive @middlepartmatt
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hollyhomburg · 27 days ago
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Prey Animals (Masterlist)
—  Pairing: Yoongi x reader, Bts x reader
—  Subgenders: Omega! Reader, Beta! Yoongi, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Jimin, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Hoseok, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin
—  Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, Enemies to friends to lovers, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt and Comfort,
—  Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.
—  Words: 80k so far
—  Warnings: Violence, Blood, Murder, sexual and physical abuse, PTSD, themes of healing, suspense, mute character's, depictions of eating disorders, healing, hospitals, epilepsy, assassins, spyies,
Before you read:
This is the second version of this story, it's better, edited and longer. But if you want to read the first (near complete) version of this story you can read it on tumblr here, or on Ao3 here. there's like a million words of it lol.
not everything is tagged in this version. there is quite a bit of triggering content. i go into much more greater detail about the m/c and the abuse that she suffered at the hands of Geumjae in this version. if there is anything that doesn't get a tag and you feel it needs it, please don't hesitate to tell me!
This version is a lot longer than V1, and because of that the chapters don't line up, chapters 1-13 cover chapters 1-4.
While there are only a few things that have been taken out/restructured, but yoongi and the m/c get a dedicated slow burn love story in this now. i've also added 60k to what we did have so please give this tons of love!
i will not be reblogging these parts nearly as much as the others, because i want there to be less crowdedness on my feed. i will try my hardest to respond to comments if there are any this time around.
~-~
Prologue: Omens
Summary: you watch your husband murder someone, and try not to make it worse
Part 1: The Beta
Summary: Seokjin meets Yoongi when he's at his lowest.
Part 2: The Funeral
Summary: The death of a king pin makes the whole picture come crumbling down. In 120 days, Yoongi will decide who rules the criminal empire.
Part 3: The Alpha
Summary: Seokjin meets Namjoon when things are finally getting good, will the introduction of an alpha disrupt his and yoongi's little pack?
Part 4: Of Violent Dogs
Summary: Kim Namjoon will kill. That is a fact that you can count on.
Part 5: The Pups
Summary: Namjoon meets Jungkook in the Emergency room. "he's sick Joonie, and you can't make him better." that doesn't mean he's not going to try.
Part 6: Prey Animals
Summary: A death and A dinner party (a woman that yoongi can't take his eyes off of.)
Part 7: Hoseok
Summary: Yoongi brings home a stray, but luckily he's going to stay. (Yoongi won't, Yoongi is going to leave)
Part 8: Just Not her
Summary: Yoongi cannot decide if he trusts you or not. After being followed, he interrogates you to figure out your motives.
Part 9: Ribbons
Summary: A dinner at the Moon house prompt Yoongi to get closer and closer to you. But how close can he get before he pricks his finger?
Part 10: Junk Drawers and Daydreams
Summary: Yoongi just wants to figure you out. Just that. He promises.
Part 11: Warm Monsters
Summary: Yoongi's attraction gets harder to ignore, as does your suffering.
Part 12: The After
Summary: In Yoongi's absence the pack sort of falls apart.
Part 13: Bruises and Butterflies
Summary: One life doesn't equal seven.
~-~
Commonly asked questions:
Why the different name? because i thought it would be confusing to have two series's by the same name on the same page
Why are you editing this story? because i want to put it up for physical purchase either on amazon (ew i know) or some other alternative, the beginning of the story had always bugged me because it was not paced the same as the rest of it.
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sayyestoheav3nn · 1 month ago
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Tumblr media
You, Again: Part 1/2
Roman x black!oc
Warnings: fluff, angst, short mention of abortion, emotional/verbal abuse
Word Count: 3k
a/n: thanks for your patience, it really means a lot 🥹 I hope this isn't a disappointment. still working on part five of nights like this, most likely won't be posted till monday. click here if you would like to be tagged in part two.
Sky spent hours in her room crying into her pillow. She was sick and tired of this constant fucked up routine.
Her mother’s disdain for her progressively grew worse day by day. For as long as she could remember, that woman did everything in her power to make sure she understood that her biggest mistake in life, would always be the day she chose not to abort her.
It was starting to become a nightly occurrence of her drunkenly barging into her room just to belittle and scream at her. 
Her mother’s hatred for her grew immensely as the years went on, to the point where she would find absolutely any reason to take her frustrations out on her.
This included breaking any and everything she could get ahold of in Sky’s room.
Sky knew any attempt to defend herself would only make the situation ten times worse, so she just stayed quiet and accepted it.
Sky could tell she wanted a reaction out of her, which is exactly why she refused to give it.
Maybe life would have been a tad bit easier, if her sister would’ve had her back during these repetitive toxic situations she was forced into. 
But no, her one and only sibling turned out to be an even more evil and vindictive bitch. 
Eva was four years older than her, and it was absolutely no secret that her older sister despised her.
Sky spent many years hoping she would eventually be able to build a relationship with her big sister. 
Unfortunately, she couldn’t have been more wrong. 
Sky remembers that night like it was yesterday. The night where Eva went to the bathroom and her creepy boyfriend tried to make multiple passes at her.
The fact that he knew she was underaged and still chose to hit on her, disgusted Sky to another level. She quickly rejected his creepy insinuations, trying her best to ignore him. 
As soon as Eva stepped out of the bathroom, Sky wasted no time in telling her exactly what happened, not giving two fucks about the fact he was still standing there.
Her boyfriend immediately interjected, saying that Sky was the one who was hitting on him, he painted a story about how she’d been making him uncomfortable for the longest of time whenever Eva wasn’t around.
She remembered the exact lies he spewed, “Baby you know how jealous she’s always been of you, don’t tell me you believe this crazy bitch! Why would I ever do that to you? Let alone in your own house!”
To her surprise Eva looked at Sky like she was fucking insane, Sky could see her sisters anger rising.
“Eva, please don’t tell me you believe him over me…” Sky’s voice cracked as tears started to form in her eyes.
Eva pushed Sky against the wall with all the force she had, causing the back of Sky’s head to slightly start bleeding. 
“If you ever even think to go near him again, I’ll fucking kill you,” Eva sneered.
In that exact moment Sky whole heartedly accepted the fact that she was truly alone, with absolutely no one by her side. 
And just when she had fully given up hope on continuing to live this shitty life, with her even shittier family, she met Joe. 
Joe was a boy who made her whole entire world shift. 
He was her new neighbor, who in a short time of getting to know, became her favorite person. 
As years passed they grew even closer, she was his best friend, and he was hers. 
He was truly a light in her dark world, and there wasn’t a damn thing she’d do to change that.
……….
After another night of the same bullshit fight caused by her drunken mom, Sky carefully stumbled out of her bedroom window making her way across the wet grass that was now starting to soak her fuzzy slippers. Her phone was dead, so she had no choice but to rely on the natural moonlight to illuminate the short path leading her next door.
She lightly tapped on Joe’s window, hoping not to startle him.
Shortly after, he carefully slid his window open. His eyes were low and sunken, a sleepy smile formed on his face.
“Come in.” Joe helped Sky climb in, which basically consisted of him doing all the work in picking her up.
“Shit, sorry for waking you up Joe,” she whispered.
“Sky, how many times have I told you? Never apologize for that shit,” his voice was low.
Joe knew that she had issues with her family, but Sky made sure to never tell him how bad it really was. She knew him well, his hot headed ass would confront them with no hesitation, but that would only end up making things worse for her. 
If Sky’s mom found out about him, she’d forbid her from ever seeing him again.
And that’s something that Sky simply would not allow, so choosing to keep him in the dark, in her eyes was the right choice.
Joe pulled his covers back leaving Sky’s preferred side easier for her to get in.
His bedroom became a safe space for her, it was starting to become a habit for Sky to spend her nights sleeping there. For some odd reason the smell of his sheets gave her a sense of comfort, his cologne scent became soothing to her.
They both laid down on their backs, with their gazes focused on the ceiling. 
Joe was always respectful, making sure he left a small space in between them.
“You wanna talk about it?” He whispered.
“Thanks, but not really,” she sighed.
Joe could hear the sadness in her tone, he knew she was holding something in, but he didn’t want to push her. He believed she’d open up when she felt comfortable enough, so he respected that.
“That’s okay….but know you can tell me anything, Sky.”
She turned her body to face him, “I’m going to tell you something, but promise me you won’t get upset,” she muttered.
Just as Joe was deep in his thoughts admiring Sky’s beauty, beauty in which he was convinced everyone saw except her, her light angelic voice instantly snapped him out of it. “Talk to me, we’ll go from there.”
“This is going to be my last night sleeping here…”
Joe quickly sat up on the bed, with his eyebrows furrowed. Sky could feel his gaze locked in on her. “Why?”
“Joe I know we’re just friends and that we’ve always had boundaries, but you have a girlfriend. It…it just seems disrespectful to keep sleeping here knowing that,” she muttered.
Joe paused in silence for what felt like forever. Sky was starting to get anxious, because the last thing she needed was to cause problems or a rift between them. As regret started to seep in, she decided to try and smooth the situation over.
“It’s just—”
“We’re not together anymore,” his voice was low.
Confusion, that’s exactly what Sky was feeling. This was the last thing she was expecting him to say.
“W—Why didn’t you say anything? What happened?”
“She didn’t like me being friends with you, so she gave me an ultimatum… to choose between you or her.” 
At that Sky stood up, her anxiety causing her to pace the room while so much guilt began to weigh her mind. She felt so fucking bad, knowing that her friendship ended his relationship which was the exact thing she was trying to avoid. 
She swallowed down her emotions as best as she could, which worked to no prevail because she instantly felt warm tears begin to slide down her face. “Joe I-I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t….you shouldn’t have chosen me.”
Joe instinctively walked towards her now seeing that she was crying, he gently grabbed her chin forcing her gaze on his. 
“Sky, there’s no reason to be sorry. It was the easiest choice I’ve ever fucking made.’’
“I—It’s my fault Joe…. I shouldn’t have put you in this situation,” she sniffled. 
“Look at me,” his voice was assertive but still gentle, Sky’s glossy eyes met his.
“The ultimatum wasn’t the only reason I ended things with her, Sky.” 
“Joe, w—what do you mean? I’m confused…..”
He moved some of her hair behind her ears, the way his eyes were glued to her lips gave her butterflies. “I….don’t want to just be friends anymore.”
Sky could feel her heart beating out of her fucking chest. Sure she believed they were close, but in no world did she ever think he thought of her that way. Joe carefully studied her facial expressions, trying to figure out what she was thinking.
“I—”
Before she could speak Joe interrupted. “I’ve always liked you Sky, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, inside and out. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. With that being said… I understand if you don’t feel the same way, my intention isn’t to make you uncomfortable. But, I just needed you to—
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
“I want you to kiss me, Joe.” 
Just as he was beginning to lean in, she slightly hesitated while slowly pulling back.
“I’ve.. I’ve never…” Sky was too embarrassed to finish her sentence.
“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”
She shook her head no, her gaze now shifted to the floor. 
Joe lightly brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Sky, it’s just me. I got you, I promise.”
Once she silently gave him the approval, Joe gently pressed his lips against hers, starting off slow letting her get used to the feeling. Her lips were so fucking full and soft, it was going to be a challenge for him to contain himself.
Once Joe could feel her growing comfortable, he began to deepen their kiss. Sky could feel her arousal intensify as the kiss went from soft and slow to something more needy and sensual.  
Without a second thought, he picked her up by her ass, hoisting her on his hips. 
Sky wrapped her legs around him, while doing the same with her arms around his neck. Joe carried her back towards his bed, laying her down gently, while pulling her closer towards him.
To his surprise Sky climbed on top, straddling and kissing him. Joe sat up with his back resting on the headboard, a light moan escaped him when she slid her fingers behind his head, lightly scratching at his scalp.
He slightly pulled away, biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes entranced by that beautiful face of hers. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
“Me too,” she grinned.
Time passed, and Joe had no idea how long they spent kissing. It’s almost as if time didn’t exist when she was around him.
They eventually had to stop, Joe refused to get ahead of himself, making sure to prioritize taking things slow with her.
Just as they were about to sleep, Joe got up and walked to his drawer pulling out something plastic, it was too dark for her to tell.
“Shit, I almost forgot.” 
“What is it?”
Joe handed her the light plastic item. “I know you forget to bring it sometimes, so I bought you one to leave here.”
Once Sky shined her phone light on it, a smile formed on her face.
A bonnet. 
Joe went out of his way to buy her a bonnet.
Something so simple, yet so fucking thoughtful made her eyes water “Thank you Joe.” 
She immediately pulled it out the package, wasting no time in putting it on.
Sky kissed his cheek and laid down, Joe pulled her by her waist with his big arms wrapped around her, there was no longer a gap in between. The warmth of his chest on her back was the most comforting thing she’d ever experienced, resulting in her instantly falling asleep.
Since the day he met her, she’d been the only person he thought about. Having her this close to him, internally evoked new emotions for him.
Watching her sleep so peacefully while being wrapped in his arms, brought a smile to his face. In that very moment he made a vow to himself, to always put her happiness first.
No matter what.
…………….
Present
The New York city lights illuminated the busy streets. Sky wasn’t used to being in such a live and ambient city. 
After a shit ton of convincing from her best friend Lori, Sky forced herself to step out of her comfort zone and pursue a new potential career opportunity. It’s something that she had been wanting to do for the longest time, but unfortunately her deep rooted insecurities had her convinced she wasn’t good enough.
She was scared to waste so much time and effort, just to end up receiving rejection. 
Except she was wrong, very wrong. Because after an exhausting few months of traveling around the world and going to so many different try outs, life finally threw her a bone.
Sky had received a message from her agent, informing her that a well known modeling agency based in New York, was interested in flying her in for a week to attend their casting call.
This was an opportunity she was glad she didn’t miss. Lori, being the amazing friend that she is, decided to join Sky to offer her unwavering support.
After being in this colorful, fast paced city for a few days, Sky went in for one last meeting with the agency where they informed her she would officially be signed.
Sky still had the weekend left in this enormous city, so she figured she’d make the most of it. Lori, suggested they try out this new fancy bar to celebrate Sky’s new job.
As they walked in the atmosphere was relaxing, the room was filled with dim lighting and the low sounds of jazz music. Sky noticed diverse groups of people scattered across the room, the air was filled with chatter and laughter, which brought a small smile to her face.
They decided to sit at the stools of the bar, they figured the closer they were, the faster they’d receive their drinks.
To say they were having a good time would be an understatement, Sky was starting to truly enjoy the feeling of being immersed in this vibrant city.
While Lori went to the bathroom, Sky decided to order their third drinks, and as she was waiting she ended up getting distracted with a dumbass reality show, that for some reason was starting to pique her interest.
Just as the boring commercials started to play, she was starting to zone out when out of the corner of her eye she saw a WWE ad.
Sky could instantly feel her breath hitch in her throat. It’s not the first time she’s seen him randomly displayed on tv. 
That’s not the exact reason her heart was racing, while her body felt frozen in place. It’s the fact that the advertisement said he was in this exact area for a press event he had during the weekend. 
Every piece of joy she was feeling prior to this revelation was stripped away.
Lori came back, and with one glance at Sky, she immediately knew something was wrong, “Sky, are you okay?”
Sky cleared her throat, trying her absolute best to play it off. “I’m fine, I promise. I think these drinks are hitting me all at once,” she nervously chuckled.
Lori stared at Sky, seeming completely unconvinced, but she ultimately decided to let it go.
“I’ll drop it for now, only because it’s a big day for you.”
“Thank you,” Sky mouthed.
Sky waited twenty minutes for Lori to finish her drink, her anxiety made it feel like she was waiting a lifetime. Once Lori finished up, Sky asked to leave, using the excuse that she was exhausted. 
Lori paid their tab after refusing to let Sky pay a dime. They started to make their way out of the packed bar, trying their best to maneuver away from large crowds. 
Just as they were close to the entrance door, Lori had to turn around when she noticed she left her sunglasses. Sky was looking back to see if her friend had located them, while still walking forward. 
She decided it would be best to wait outside since the bar was starting to get congested. When she reached to open the door, her gaze was glued to her purse while she dug for her cellphone.
Before she knew it, she accidentally bumped into someone, causing her to stumble back.
She stood up, immediately apologizing, moving to the side as more people walked in. “Shit. I’m so sorry!” 
“Sky?” His voice was low and hesitant. 
In hearing that voice, his voice… she looked up, suddenly feeling the air grow thick. The bar started to feel small, as if it was enclosing around her.
She felt her body go cold, her legs started to feel weak and numb. No words escaped her mouth, she was rendered speechless.
He studied her, noticing she was just as fucking stunning as he remembered. After all these years, the feeling he got when she looked up at him, never changed.
“Sky…” 
“Stay the fuck away from me, Roman,” her voice cracked, while tears began to pool in her eyes. She pushed past him, while quickly walking away.
He knew he deserved it, but hearing her call him by that name fucking stung.
He stopped her by gently grabbing her arm.
“Sky, if you never want to see me again after this, I’ll…I’ll let you be. But please just let me explain,” he pleaded.
“I think it’s a little too fucking late for that,” she scoffed. 
Sky walked out the bar without looking back, quickly texting Lori saying she’d be at a café a few blocks over. Right now all she wanted was to create as much distance as possible, from the man who broke her heart.
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iamtired10 · 4 months ago
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open your window
pairing - best friend! pham hanni x basketball player! female reader
synopsis - sneaking into pham hanni’s house at 2 am through her window was practically a tradition by now. you’ve done it countless times before, but tonight feels... different.
genre - pure fluff
warnings - drunk asf, swearing, and a whole lot of cute.
word count - 1.9k
— requested!
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it was 2 a.m.
the time when the world outside is quiet, still, and wrapped in the embrace of sleep.
but for pham hanni, her peaceful night was disrupted by the soft buzzing of her phone on the nightstand, pulling her out of her half-asleep daze.
she squinted at the screen, trying to make out the words through her sleepy haze.
owl leader
opeb ur damn wimdoe, yanni
fvckkksjxioskejfydiej
it's freezinh out herrre
the neighbor's betch is barkimg its lungs out
dont wanna get caught by the atttractibe ghost rn skdifiif
hawhiny
...
i have a lot of nasty things to say, but let's start with this: fuck you.
owl leader
han my sweet fluffy bestie-of-the-century pooookoe bear OPEM THR DAMN FOOR
i cant stand on this sketchy-ass ladder any longer
fckkkkk it's about to collapse wljjfirowkhsgd
hawhiny
🙄
hanni groaned, her warm, cozy blanket hugging her tightly, tempting her to stay in bed.
the thought of getting up at this ungodly hour to let you in was the last thing she wanted to do.
but she knew better.
if she didn’t get up now, you'd definitely do something worse, and her night would go from bad to worse.
dragging herself out of bed with an exaggerated sigh, she padded across the room, still half-asleep, and peeked out of the window. there you were, face pressed against the glass, knocking as if your life depended on it, mouthing exaggeratedly, “OPEN THE WINDOW!”
“romeo’s here, babe! your romeo has arrived!”
hanni raised an eyebrow at the sight of you, swaying unsteadily on a ladder you most likely stole from one of the neighbors. she unlocked the window, cracking it open just enough to speak, “can’t you, for once in your life, act like a normal person and use the damn door? you’re going to get yourself killed, and i’ll have to explain why my best friend fell off a ladder at 2 a.m. because she’s a complete idiot.”
“i’m just trying to be romantic, my sweet juliet!” you slurred dramatically, struggling to keep your balance on the ladder. “f-finally, you opened up! i was freezing out here... about to turn into an icicle!”
hanni rolled her eyes, knowing all too well what was going on. she could tell just by the way your words slurred together and how you couldn’t stand still for a second.
“are you drunk?” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she opened the window wider and reached out to you.
“nah, nah… i’m just a little tipsy. nothing major, i promise.” you grinned at her, clearly not fooling anyone.
hanni gave you a look of disbelief. “uh-huh, sure. and what exactly are you doing here, stumbling around my window at 2 in the morning?”
she extended her hand to you, helping you climb in through the window, though you were so unsteady on your feet that you almost dragged her down with you.
you stumbled inside, barely managing to stay upright as you grabbed onto her hand. “well, first of all, i missed my juliet!” you declared proudly. “and secondly… WE WON THE MATCH!! BABY, LET’S GOOOO!!”
you threw your arms up in the air triumphantly, nearly knocking over hanni’s lamp in the process.
hanni flinched, quickly steadying the lamp before it could crash to the ground. “could you not scream at the top of your lungs? you’re going to wake everyone up,” she whisper-yelled, glaring at you as she hit your head.
you pouted, rubbing the spot on your head where she’d lightly smacked you. “you didn’t have to hit me! that’s child abuse, pham hanni! i could report you for that.”
“child abuse? please. you’re acting like a 5-year-old,” hanni muttered under her breath.
“you don’t understand…” you slurred. “we won the basketball match! i had to celebrate! it’s basically my job to get tipsy after a win. besides, i needed to see my Juliet.”
“right, because there’s no other reason to climb a ladder in the middle of the night,” hanni deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked down at you.
“hey, hey… don’t forget, i’m banned from your house, remember?” you pouted, looking up at her with big, sad eyes.
hanni sighed. “yeah, banned because you broke my mom’s favorite vase trying to show off your basketball skills. she’s still pissed about that, you know.”
“i swear, i didn’t mean to! jasmine was—” you paused, blinking up at her. “wait, wait, it’s fine, right? she’s not still mad about that, is she?”
“trust me, she’s over it. you’re just making excuses because you like sneaking in through the window,” hanni said, rolling her eyes.
“maybe... but, seriously, i’m romeo! you’ve gotta have a romeo in your life, and i volunteered!”
“you do realize romeo was a fucking DUDE, right?”
“details, details,” you waved her off, attempting to steady yourself but immediately losing your balance and tripping over your own feet.
you landed face-first on the floor with a loud thud.
“ow! my pride…” you groaned dramatically, holding your head.
hanni sighed, rubbing her temples as if you were giving her the world’s biggest headache. “you’re such a disaster. you’re going to wake my mom, and then we’re both dead.”
“she won’t do anything to me,” you mumbled into the floor. “she thinks i’m cute. but jasmine? oh, she’s gonna stir up everything and make your life miserable.”
hanni couldn’t help but laugh a little. “my sister? yeah, she’d definitely throw us under the bus.”
you finally managed to sit up, blinking at her. “so… what’s the plan now? do i get cuddles or what?”
hanni was dead tired.
her body screamed for the comfort of her bed, to sleep off the entire exhausting day.
she’d already argued with you for ten straight minutes, mostly because all she really wanted to do was crash. but she couldn’t just leave you alone like this—you were flailing around like an octopus. drunk as hell, stumbling and knocking over everything, and honestly, you were about two seconds away from destroying more than just her mom’s vase.
“god, you’re such a pain in my ass,” hanni muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples as she glanced at you as you dramatically throwing yourself backward onto her bed, draping an arm over your face
“why?” you shot back. “for coming through your window? you should be thanking me! you’ve got yourself a romeo climbing up here, risking life and limb to see you. who else would do that for you, huh? i missed you so much today. seriously, i came here to steal my juliet away! admit it—you love it when i do this.”
hanni stared at you like you had three heads. “again... romeo was a fuckin’ guy, you idiot.”
you giggled, rolling over and waving your arms dramatically. “well, i’m your female romeo. so come here and cuddle me! romeo demands cuddles.”
“why would i even do that?” hanni asked, still eyeing you with mild annoyance, even though the corners of her lips twitched, trying to suppress a laugh.
you blinked at her, pouting as you sat up. “c’mon, han han! you love me, right? so just cuddle me.”
she crossed her arms and sighed, but there was a softness in her eyes now. “alright, fine. but stay quiet, or my mom will—”
before she could even finish her sentence, you flung yourself onto her, wrapping her in a tight, almost suffocating hug. “there it is. my cuddly juliet,” you mumbled against her shoulder, eyes already half-shut as you melted into her.
hanni groaned. “you’re insane.”
you nodded sleepily, barely registering her words. “yeah, but i’m also insanely in love with you.”
the words spilled out of your mouth in a drunken slur, but the way you said it—so soft, so genuine—made hanni’s heart skip a beat.
for a moment, her eyes widened in shock, but she quickly brushed it off, chalking it up to the alcohol talking.
as the two of you lay there in silence, you nestled against her like a clingy cat, the peace only lasted a few minutes before your drunken brain sparked back to life.
“oh, right… forgot to ask you… the trillion-dollar question: how was your amazing date with anton lee today?”
hanni stiffened beside you, a noticeable tension creeping into her posture. “it was fine,” she mumbled, trying to sound indifferent, but there was an edge in her voice.
“fine?” You lifted your head, frowning. “no, no, no. that doesn’t sound fine. something went wrong, didn’t it? spill. i’ll break his legs if he did anything. seriously, just say the word.”
hanni exhaled, clearly not wanting to rehash the evening, but knowing you wouldn’t let it go.
“we went to see a movie, but honestly, it was kinda boring. and then we had dinner, but the entire time, he just kept talking about himself. like, dude’s obsessed with himself—he’s probably not straight, not bi, but fully autosexual. who the hell talks about themselves that much on a date? he was like, 'look at what i did,' 'i’m so amazing,' 'blah blah blah.' i was sitting there, trying not to lose my mind.”
you burst into uncontrollable laughter, snorting at the mental image of hanni suffering through the date while anton babbled on.
“oh my god, i would’ve paid to see that. but you should’ve let me take you out instead. we’d have gone somewhere fun, like a carnival or something.”
hanni rolled her eyes. “a carnival? you? please. you’d trip and fall off the first ride.”
“rude,” you said, pouting. “but i wouldn’t fall if i had you to hold my hand. i’ve got experience, remember? i’m your romeo after all.”
hanni chuckled softly, shaking her head. “yeah, yeah. anyway, what are you even going to do after graduation? you gonna work at a carnival?”
you paused, your playful demeanor dropping for a second. “i don’t know, han. sometimes i think about it, y’know? like, what comes next after university?”
the shift in your tone caught her off guard, and she glanced over at you, surprised. “yeah… i think about that too. it’s scary sometimes, isn’t it? the whole 'what comes next' thing.”
“yeah…” you sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “like, will we still be close? or will we drift apart like everyone else does after uni? my parents are all over me about my future, but i just wanna stick to basketball and… figure it out later.”
hanni’s heart tightened at your words. the thought of drifting apart from you felt like something she wasn’t ready to deal with.
“we won’t. i promise. we won’t drift apart.”
you hummed in response, your voice soft and tired. “good… ‘cause i don’t wanna lose you, han. you’re too precious. if you go away, whose window am i gonna climb?”
hanni chuckled, leaning her head against yours. “right…”
“by the way, your hair smells nice,” you mumbled, your sleepy voice slurring again as you nuzzled into her neck. “what shampoo do you use again?”
hanni rolled her eyes, her hand absentmindedly stroking your back. “you’ve asked me that a million times. don’t act like you don’t know.”
“rude…” you muttered, your voice trailing off as sleep overtook you. “anyway, i love your shampoo and… smdhidkdheuxu…”
you were out cold, leaving hanni shaking her head in disbelief.
“not this dork falling asleep after confessing her love to my shampoo,” she mumbled, glancing down at your peaceful face, your breathing steady as you slept against her.
her annoyance melted away as she watched you sleep, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
maybe you were right.
she really did love it when you climbed through her window just to see her.
maybe… just maybe, she loved it more than she’d ever admit to herself.
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a/n - my brain hurts 🤕
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