#and then when i figured out what he was getting at i was like 'oh!! the y2k bug!!!!' n he was like 'YES THE YEAR 2000 BUG'

[cherubunie]

baby doll ~ sim jaehyun x reader

౨ৎ inspired by this request !! ♡ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 제이크 ] ☆ in which jake eats out his virgin girlfriend for the first time and ends up going batshit insane with obsession & possession

word count ; 2.7k

dom! jake x sub! reader . corruption kink , oral , lots of praise , very very slight degrading if u squint , fingering , neck kisses , hickeys , Jake is a little bit of a pervert , not proof read , this kinda sucks oh well

Jake and you have been together for four months , and the two of you have decided to take things slow.

he was so so patient with you- so kind and loving , never has he ever made you feel uncomfortable or forced to do anything. he wanted to go at your own pace, even if that meant he had to rub one out after a heated make out session in private once a while.

he was the sweetest boyfriend ever and he loves you so much..

so much he began to slip into insanity

you two have had conversations before, such as establishing a safe word and what kinds of things the two of you were kind of into

which led him to discover that you were in fact a virgin.

ever since you told him that small fact about yourself, he drove himself further into madness.

how on earth were you a virgin?

he thinks to himself on a regular basis. you're too fucking gorgeous.

the thought of having the perfect little girl who has never experienced having sex was phonenomal. he wanted to show you all the different ways he could make you feel good, which positions he could fold you into, he wanted to force perfect whines and moans out of your mouth as he fucked his cock deep inside you for the first time. he wanted to teach you how to suck him off- imagining your round eyes looking up at him while your mouth was stuffed full of his length was too much for him to contemplate.

Jake knows its wrong, but when he's snooped through your room a couple times while you were in the shower. he imagined what your naked body looked like when it was wet, how the water droplets would travel inbetween your breasts and thighs- the picture made him unbelievably hard-, he then found himself discovering the awful cute panties that are folded neatly in your underwear drawer that have adorable matching bras. he also discovered a measly pink vibrator tucked away in a box of that underwear drawer, completely dead and his mind began to race.

have you came to the thought of him at all? do you imagine him fucking you as you use the pathetic little toy on your clit?

he couldn't seem to stop his dirty thoughts that began to cloud ever part of his being.

the thought of you wearing one of those adorable pieces of underwear underneath your clothes made him feel all sorts of things. and oh god whenever you would walk around your apartment with just a hoodie on made him wonder if you were wearing one of the cute lacy panties with a black bow stitched in the middle.

here you were, reaching up on your tippy toes to grab a glass out of the cabinet.

and that god damn hoodie of his that you're wearing began to ride up to show the curve of your ass, the lacy underwear peaking out from underneath.

Jake felt himself growing in his jeans just at the sight, you truly had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"come here baby" jakes voice traveled through the apartment. you pop your head out of the kitchen with the biggest smile on your face.

"coming, I was just getting water" you trot into the living room, setting down the glass of water onto the surface of the coffee table. you stand up and look at him, that cute smile on your face still prominent.

his hoodie falls around your mid thigh, the article of clothing completely swallowing your figure and he begins to wonder how you look underneath.

he would love your body regardless of its shape of course, but that doesn't stop the dirty thoughts that form in his skull. every fiber of his being is telling him to rip it off of you and stuff your face into the couch below him and fuck you raw- but he decides on the latter.

"come here doll, let me look at you" your feet patter on the hardwood floors as you walk over to your boyfriend, standing in between his spread legs. his hands find the outsides of your thighs , his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your exposed skin.

"you're so beautiful" his words make a deep blush coat your cheeks. his hands suddenly grip your legs, shifting your body so that you can sit on his lap facing him.

you gasp at his forwardness, but lean into his touch nontheless. your head leans down and your breath fans his face. Jake looks up at you through his eyelashes, admiring your beautiful face that's beet red at his gentle words.

you both lean in for a kiss, your chapstick smearing onto his lips as your mouths move together. your hands move to wrap around his neck, pushing your body into his front.

the kiss quickly began to escalate, your mind was fuzzy, your hands were frantic, and your pussy began to wetten.

his tongue intruded your lips, sliding against yours while his hands moved from your thighs up to your hips underneath the hoodie you were wearing.

his fingers played with the hem of your underwear, a quite whine leaving your throat- to which Jake happily swallowed. your hands moved up to his head, your fingers lacing in his thick locks in order to tug and pull on them.

now it was jakes turn to moan into your mouth, his fingers tightening on your hips as he began to grind his growing bulge into your core.

everything felt hot and overstimulating , your head began to hurt as you quickly pulled off of your boyfriend.

your lips were kiss swollen and your face was red. Jake looked up at you with concern, his hands instantly slipping out of the hoodie in order to cup your cheeks.

"what's wrong my love, are you okay?" you nodded your head trying to catch your breath. your eyes fly closed and your hands grip into his shoulders.

"we don't have to baby doll, lets put on a movie and cudd-"

"I- I want to.." your voice was small, tone laced with embarrassment. jakes eyes widen in shock and he tilts your head to look at him.

"we don't have to if you dont want to , im okay sweetheart I promise" he reassures you , as hes done for the millionth time since the two of you started dating. your eyes open and lock onto his.

"I want to, Jake... I really really do im just- nervous is all.. what if it hurts?" oh my god.

Jake feels his chest tighten and he bites back a smirk, his hands moving down to cup the slope of your waist. he wished you wouldn't have said that, because all he wants to do now is manipulate your body into any position he wishes while he takes away any and all sense of innocence you have in your body.

"how about this baby, I'll eat you out and finger you until you're ready for me, hmm?" jakes eyes darken slightly , you avert your eyes from his with an embarrassing huff.

"what it... what if i.. I dont know.." you stutter over your words, not wanting to finish the stupid sentence.

"big girl words, doll" you sigh again and cover your face with your hands, muttering into your palms

"what if I taste bad" your words are muffled, but Jake can hear them regardless. he takes his big hands and wraps them in his hold, forcing your hands away from your red face as he speaks to you.

"you will not taste bad , I swear... how on earth would you have a bad taste, you are the sweetest girl to ever walk this damn earth" his compliment makes you giggle.

there is absolutely no way you could taste bad and he knows it.

he's smelt your underwear before out of pure curiosity and has never been more obsessed with the idea of eating you out ever since.

before you could protest, hes picking you up into the air. your legs wrap around his waste and your arms tighten around his neck with a squeal.

"Jakeee" you drag out his name with a giggle as he walks over to your room. he sets you on the foot of the bed and you feel even more embarrassment at all your stuffed animals looking at you.

Jake stands inbetween your legs, his hands on your knees in order to keep them apart.

you lay on your back and reach above your head, turning around your stuffed rabbits that rest in front of your pillows before sitting up and facing him.

Jake has to stifle a laugh that threatens to bubble up passed his chest, but one makes it out anyways.

"dont laugh at me.. I dont want them watching" you are too fucking adorable, his heart swells in his chest at your words.

Jake leans downs, his body towering over yours as he brings you into another kiss, this time it's more heated; demanding as his mouth moves against yours rhythmically. your hands move to his back, arms wrapping around his shoulders. you feel his hands at the base of the hoodie. he breaks the kiss with a wet pop, he looks into your lust-filled eyes- a silent plea.

"can... can we keep it on..?" you ask him, and he instantly responds.

"of course baby, anything you want sweetheart" Jake brings one of his hands to press against the mattress behind you before he gently leans you back, your head falling onto the mattress gently.

you feel yourself growing wetter, your clit pulsating in your panties as he kisses you deeply once more. your hands move to his hair- tugging on it once more.

Jake bites your lower lip and you hiss, your hips grind up into the air in a desperate search for friction. he trails his kisses to your neck before sucking down on your skin, leaving the prettiest purple marks that have you arching your back while breathless whimpers drip off your tongue like honey.

Jake detaches from your neck and sinks down to his knees in front of the bed, his face coming down to your clothed pussy. he pushes the hoodie up around your stomach, baring your underwear to him. your face is hot and you worry about how you taste and look, attempting to control your breathing as you lay down on the mattress.

"shh baby, its okay, I got you" his words reassure your overthinking mind. he brings a cold finger up to your clothed clit and presses down, earning himselfa sharp inhale from the perfect woman above.

he rubs his digit in soft circles, coaxing your body to relax.

"j-jake.." you whine as he chuckles. after a moment of concentrated massaging to your clothed clit- he sees a prominent wet patch form on your underwear and he curses at the sight.

without thinking, he pulls your panties to the side and slips his fingers through your wet folds. your back arches and your eyes close at the feeling.

"so wet for me already?" he teases you. your mind is racing - as is your heart while he pulls his fingers away from your heat in order to pull your pretty panties down passed your ankles.

you sit up on your forearms as he places his hands on your knees in order to pull your legs apart.

and the sight of your dripping pussy makes him fall for you all over again. the unholy thoughts that run ramped in his mind are sick, the way he wants to split you in half and fuck you dumb overtakes his thoughts- but he calms them in an instant.

he brings his face closer to your heat so his breath fans your aching pussy. your arousal drips down your ass and onto the sheets before he brings his tongue out in order to lick a stripe up your pussy- making you shudder in your hold.

he does it again, and again, and again- making your breathing rapid and uneven

"so sweet.." he mumbles before wrapping his arms around your legs in order to pull you down onto his face- his lips automatically wrapping around your clit.

your mouth slacks open in a gasp followed by loud moans. his tongue works its magic against you- flicking and sucking around your sensitive bundle of nerves. your hands fist in the sheets, using them as leverage to keep you grounded.

Jake groans into your pussy as he feels your hole clench around nothing- so he brings his middle finger up to your cunt before sliding it inside your tight pussy.

you quite literally suck his finger inside you before clenching around him. Jake lets out a stream of curses into your wet pussy

"fuck.. so tight. such a perfect baby doll falling apart in my hands" you moan at his words, your hips rocking into his face.

the unfamiliar feeling of Jake eating you out makes body feel weak and your mind feel empty- stars beginning to form in the darkness behind your eyelids.

Jakes finger pumps inside your pussy, curling in desperate search for that sweetspot deep inside you- and when he finds it, your back arches even further off the bed as you squeal. he chuckles against you- sending vibrations through your entire body starting at your core.

"found it" you feel tears well up in your eyes, and Jake decides to scrape his teeth gently against your clit- making you hiss at the odd feeling.

"god you're so fucking beautiful, my perfect little angel" his finger repeatedly kisses your cherry-sweet spot, the pleasure overriding your senses as you grab his hair and grind into his face.

"j-jake please.." you have no idea why your begging, but the sound of you moan his name as you come undone in the palm of his hand makes jakes cock rock hard- straining against his jeans and he swears he could come just by eating you out.

his grip on your thigh tightens, his tongue concentrated on your puffy, swollen clit.

an unfamiliar feeling forms in the pit of your stomach, and you begin to feel hot and uncomfortable.

"j-jake i.. feel weird hmm, pl-plea-se" your moans pick up volume and your legs attempt to close around his head, but the grip he has on your thighs is strong and unmoving.

"doing such a good job for me sweet girl, wanna cum angel?" you shake your head frantically, the wave of your orgasm beginning to crash down on you.

"y-yes please" you answer, making Jake pout his lips into you.

"such a good girl, you can cum baby, I got you sweetheart im here" you fall into this hands as the coil in your tummy begins to unravel, your hands come to cover your eyes and your legs begin to shake.

your moans turn into high-pitched mewls and cries

"oh my god Jake!" one of your hands comes down to your side in order to reach for your boyfriend, and he just about breaks down.

you're reaching for him.

you want to hold his hand as eats you out, as you come all over him.

he unwraps his arm from your leg and instantly grips your hand in his, and that pushes you over the edge as your fluids squirt out of your pussy and all over his face- dripping down his chin to stain the sheets below.

Jake gawks at you, his mouth slack open and his eyes wide as you become a puddle

the realization of what just happened hits him;

you just fucking squirted for him.

"fuck- you're so perfect oh my god- such a good girl, pretty girl" as you begin to settle down, Jake pulls his fingers out of you and stands up before leaning down to face you.

he tucks a stray hair behind your ear as he kisses your forehead.

"you did such a good job for me baby doll, so pretty" he compliments.

"I-i was?" Jake nods his head and takes you into his arms.

"yes baby, the best"

[brattyspence]

virginia is for lovers | s.reid

summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post

tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau

a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 

Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 

You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.

Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 

That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 

The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.

It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.

“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”

He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 

“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 

“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”

She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.

“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 

“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”

“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”

He scrolled down.

liked by @jjareau and others

@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago

↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE

↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞

↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3

↪ 12k comments

He clicked onto your profile. 

@yourusername 

5.2M Followers

Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more

“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”

“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.

June 10

@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.

June 25

@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 

@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)

July 30:

@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage

August 15

@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻

@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 

August 20

@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!

↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl

↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡

↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘

“Oh, wow.”

She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”

“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”

“Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.

He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 

You picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”

“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”

“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”

“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”

“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”

He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.

“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”

“That's what I wanted,” You reply.

“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”

You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.

He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”

You groan. 

[starkeysprincess]

Duuuude ugh I thought about what it would look like with stepbro!rafe making you cum for the first time cause you told him you’d feel funny sometimes so you’d try to get off but then it felt like you had to pee and you’d stop and the innocence he’d get off on…

-like I can see him at the start of your fucked stepsibling relationship him just liking to grope and fondle you and then one day when he’s stressed he just needs something to smack and rough up so he calls for you “you gonna let me play with my favorite little ass?”

-once he has you over his lap spanking and gripping you while he watches TV, you’re getting wet and tell him you feel funny and never really felt what happened after cause you were scared and so he points out his bulge under your lower tummy “you did that sweet baby. get that empty head working and see if you can figure out what you need” and before you know it he’s helping you grind on his lap, talking you through it, praising and degrading you until you finally feel your first orgasm. “You wanna feel that again, you come to me, I’ll take care of you, princess, but head upstairs, now I gotta show you how to take care of me for being such a good big brother”

warnings: stepcest, spanking, dry humping, reader is 18+

he practically uses your ass like a stress ball, whether squeezing and kneading the fatty flesh or giving it a harsh smack whenever you’re nearby; he just can’t help himself, especially when he was under immense stress. "rafey?" your voice called out, entering his bedroom when you heard him call your name. his hand encircled your wrist, pulling you further into his room, and locked the door.

"what's wrong?" you frowned, noticing the distressed look on his face. "nothing your pretty little head needs to worry about, alright? i'm just stressed, s'all," your stepbrother murmured.

"is there anything i could do to help?"

rafe didn't have to think twice at your question, "mhm, i have a whole lot of stress to relieve. you gonna let me play with my favorite little ass?". his fingers play with the ends of your hair, sensing your hesitation, “c’mon, princess. you wouldn’t want your stepbrother to be stressed, would you?” he faux pouted. you shook your head, "no, i wanna help you if i can.".

"yeah? you're such a good girl. always wanting to make me feel better, huh?" he licked his lips, sitting on the edge of his bed before pulling you to lay across his lap. his hand ran up the back of your thigh to the hem of your oversized shirt, pushing it till it bunched around your waist, revealing your perfectly plump ass.

“missed this sweet little ass,” he groaned, kneading the soft flesh. a small yelp slips from your lips when his large palm harshly lands on your ass, making your body jolt forward.

you could feel the band of his ring leaving an impression on your sensitive skin with each delivered smack. your skin felt hot, the stinging sensation slowly fading into pleasure as he alternated between slapping and massaging your red, swollen ass. you squirm in his lap, your panties soaked and sticking to your cunt. “what’s got you squirming, hm?” rafe teased, his hands gripping your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to see a wet patch seeping through the thin material.

“oh, you like this, huh? i could tell by how much of a mess you’re making, ruining these pretty little pink panties,” he chuckled. “rafe…” you whine, your cunt pulsing with need. he bucks his hip, his bulge pressing against your lower tummy, “feel that? s’all cause of you sweet girl. need you to get that pretty little head working and see if you can tell me what you need.”

“i-i don’t know,” you stammered, “you don’t know? you and i both know that’s a load of shit,” rafe tsks.

"guess i have to show you what you need then, huh?" he chuckles, pulling you up till you're straddling his lap. his hands find your hips, holding them steady as he guides you to rut against his lap. he grins to himself, licking his lips when he hears your breath hitch in your throat as his bulge grinds against your clothed cunt, "feels good, yeah?".

you nod weakly, burying your face into his shoulder, encouraging rafe to push and pull your hips back and forth. you press your face further into his shoulder, muffling the small moans that slip from your lips, "that's it, keep making those sounds. let me hear how good it feels," rafe cooed. his palms slide to your ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave bruises, his own hips bucking to meet each roll of your hips.

a sharp gasp erupts from your throat when your clit bumps where the tip of his cock rests, making your body squirm, and your hips start to roll against his. "there you go, just like that...show me how much of a desperate little slut you are," rafe groans, grinding himself harder against you, matching your rhythm.

"please..." you whine, trying to halt your movements as you feel an unfamiliar tightening in your lower belly. "shh, just let it happen, sweet girl. s'okay, i got you," rafe reassures, his grip on your hips tightening.

rafe buries his face into the side of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, “c’mon, baby. cum f’me, want you to show me how much you need me.”. you cry out against his shoulder, your cunt clenches around nothing as your orgasm washes over you.

your body slumps forward into his chest, your breath tickling his neck as you pant for air. rafe's thumbs rubbed soothing circles onto your hips, “good girl, you did so good.".

"hey, look at me," he rasps, his hand intertwining in your hair, pulling your head back to make you look at him. "if you ever wanna feel that again, you come to me, understand? i'll take care of you, okay?" he brushed your hair out of your face.

"okay," you whisper, nodding in response. "good...now i gotta show you how to take care of me for being such a good big brother. can you do that for me?" .

[alarajrogers]

He's a leader, an inspiring figure, but not physically powerful. She's a badass -- a killer, a superhuman, someone the world fears -- and she will do anything to make sure his vision comes true. Including things he would hate to know about.

She's a leader, an inspiring figure. He's her strong second-in-command, totally loyal, smart and capable and people like him. He could be in command if he wanted to be, but he knows she's better at it, so he happily assists her.

One is a wizard. One is a sharpshooter, swordfighter, or martial artist. They fight crime!

She's his bodyguard.

They're on opposite sides of the conflict. They hate each other. They love each other. They try to kill each other but maybe not as hard as they could be trying.

He's a superhero. She was a superhero, until something disillusioned her, and now she tries to convince him he's on the wrong side, and he tries to convince her that she is. They are actually having sex, not just UST'ing.

He's a hero. She's a dragon. Do with that what you will.

He's naive and idealistic. She's cynical and jaded. But oh, how she wants to believe in the world he sees... even as she tries to convince him of the world as she knows it, because she doesn't want the world to hurt him.

One is a scientist. One is an elite government agent. They fight crime!

They're cops. They're partners. And when they find out how corrupt the department is, they have to rely on each other to survive as the entire police force they gave their working lives to come after them to kill them.

They're both spies. When will they find out the other one is an enemy spy?

She seems like a typical housewife. That's because the entire world wants to kill her for being the most dangerous human being alive, and no one would suspect a PTA mom of being that person. He knows what she is and will do anything he can to hide her... until the day she's forced to reveal herself to save him.

He's a starship captain. She's a trickster god.

She was born to a long line of humans who can control supernatural entities. He's a proud supernatural entity who hates how much he wants to submit to this inferior human... who has the power to control him, but won't invoke it until he asks her.

I mean, I could do this all day. Ships don't even have to be queer to be great. They just have to have the man and the woman on equal footing, with each having power though their power might be in different domains. The entire probelm with het ships is how the woman is generally in some way treated as an ancilliary to the man. Either she's better than him at everything and yet for some reason he's the chosen hero, or he's better than her at most things, or we are told she is awesome but she never gets to show it. So don't do that. Give them both power and show how they are separately both powerful, and how putting them together makes them both stronger (unless it doesn't because they're fighting each other.)

"how can m/f ships be good-" first of all through the power of bisexuality anything is possible so write that down. second of all if we start othering ships based on gender and nothing else we're no better than the opposition. third of all you need to watch more addams family

[oneforthemunny]

hold my heart and watch it burn |ex-husband!eddie munson x ex-wife!reader|

prompt: your first christmas apart and it's proving to be a lot harder and lonelier than you thought.

contains: i mean, you know i'm gonna write christmas angst lmao. so angst. divorce. ex-husband!eddie. dad!eddie. mentions of loneliness. of fighting. language. holiday blues. divorce blues. just sad but a little better at the end? maybe? kinda?

"Jude!" Your voice drops, breathy with a stern hiss that your eight year old ignored, running ahead through the crowds of people bustling through the ridiculously busy Starcourt Mall.

Lucy's small hand in yours, you pulled her through the crowds of people, dodging a woman and her twenty shopping bags that swung when she turned, nearly taking you out.

"Jude Wayne, stop." A rare tone of your voice came out, void of it's usual lightness that you always used with the kids- a tone that you usually reserved for their father.

"Woah," Your shoulders tensed, fighting back a grimace at the squeal Lucy let out, wringing her hand out of your grip. Speak of the devil, you thought, lips pursing to hold back the snarl you wanted to give. You wouldn't, not in front of the kids, no- you'd keep it civil for them, even though you wanted to smack the smug, dimpled grin that greeted you when you did finally look at him.

"Hi, sweetheart." Eddie hummed, eyes rolling over your figure, hoisting Lucy on his hip.

Your lips twisted, fighting back an eye roll. "Hi," You snapped curtly, turning to Jude, bending at your knees to get to his level. "Jude, you can't run through the mall, honey. You have to stay with me-"

"-Ah, he was just excited, baby." Eddie grinned, nodding at the young boy, who looked so much like him. "Weren't you, Jude?"

"Yeah, Mama." Jude nodded, lips curling in a positively sweetly devious grin- just like his Daddy's. You could feel your heart melting already. "I just want to see Santa. I hafta tell him the things on my list or he'll-"

"-You will, Jude." You sighed, the start of a headache pulsating dully at the base of your skull. "We'll walk to the line right now, and you both can tell Santa what you want, ok?"

Jude nodded, still walking ahead in quick, excited steps. Your eyes cut to Eddie, looking past him towards Lucy. "Surprised you showed up on time." Your tone clipped, quiet enough that the kids couldn't hear but that he did.

Eddie scoffed, a snort of air. "Showed up on time to see my kids? That's not very nice." Eddie's tone stayed light though his eyes narrowed when they looked at you.

"The truth isn't always nice, is it?" You quipped, turning forward to look at Jude.

"You act like I don't come to every thing they do." Eddie retaliated, a low hiss in his tone that left your jaw clenching with a familiar bubbling rage. "Really trying to make me into the deadbeat dad, hm?"

"I can't make you into anything." You scoffed. "But if the shoe fits-"

"-You're really doin' this?" Eddie's voice dropped, jaw ground tight with irritation. "Really? Today you're gonna start this?"

"I'm not starting anything." You snapped, a little louder than you meant to, eyeing Jude and Lucy carefully. "You're the one who's usually late to things. It's a fact."

Eddie scoffed, a light airy laugh leaving his lips that made your blood boil, nails digging into your balled fists. "Please. You think I don't know what this is about?"

"What?" You snapped, brows furrowed at him.

"Oh, c'mon, you're pissed about Trina." Eddie turned, looking at you fully.

You knew he had to see the way your heart dropped, sinking into a burning pit in your belly, filled with ache.

Trina was a bartender at The Hideout, she'd been one since you and Eddie had started going, and one you'd always felt a little wary of. The way she'd giggle and bat her eyes at Eddie- she'd been a catalyst to a few fights when you were still together.

Last Saturday morning, Eddie was late coming to the house to get the kids.

"Rough night?" You giggled, his hair wild, eyes puffy with lack of sleep- a look you'd seen too many times before, one that was always a sign he was hungover.

"Yeah, sorry, I forgot to set my alarm last night. I went out, and got a little... ya know," Eddie had muttered, running a hand down his face. "Had to shower because I smelt like smoke and didn't want Lucy's allergies actin' up, and I had to take Trina to her apartment, then I had to get gas, and-"

"-Trina?" You'd nearly spat. "From-From The Hideout, Trina?"

"Yeah, we, uh, we kinda went out last night." Eddie wouldn't meet your eyes, looking anywhere but at you. "I mean, you've been goin' on dates, and... ya know." He lifted his hand, nervously running his fingers through his bangs, a habit he'd always had.

You noticed the gold band missing from his left hand for the first time since your wedding, stomach dropping as he walked in, greeted by your children's excited squeals.

You were sick in the bathroom after that.

Now, your stomach still flipped, still burned with a familiar nauseating ache. Standing in line, trying to feign excitement listening to Jude and Lucy babble on and on about what they wanted Santa to bring them, trying to ignore the spiraling thoughts that consumed your mind.

The same thoughts that kept you up at night, tear stained cheeks pressed into the pillow next to yours, that still smelled like Eddie- the one he'd slept on three nights before his date with Trina. Did he know he was going out with her when he laid there next to you? Was he thinking of her when he had slid into you that same night? When he kissed you so fiercely, so full of love that it left you dizzy, did he wish it was her instead?

A piercing wail of a infant cut through your thoughts, taking another zombie like step towards the front of the line. Jude was bouncing, eyes so wide an intense, honed in on the older man in a red suit juggling the screaming baby to a photo.

"What're you gonna ask for Luce?" Eddie hummed, bouncing the four year old on his hip with a grin.

"Play Doh," Lucy gave a toothy smile. "The ones where you can make the rings." She shoved her chubby finger towards Eddie with emphasis.

"Oh, you gonna make some rings for Daddy?" Eddie grinned, glowing from the inside out- damn him, he was a good dad. Your heart fluttered when he wiggled his own fingers at her playfully, rings shining dully under the white Christmas lights of the mall. "I've been needin' some new ones."

Lucy laughed, silly infectious giggles that had your lips tugging in a grin, your hand smoothing over the wool of Jude's jacket. "You ready Luce? You're next." You cooed, stepping up to the bright candy caned line.

A bored teenage 'elf' looked at you with a less than jolly expression, waving them over as the kids ahead went bounding towards the mall Santa.

"Stay with Jude. Hold her hand, Jude. We'll be right over here." Your voice tightened, not moving until her hand was in his, scampering towards the next marker. "Smile pretty!"

"C'mon," Eddie muttered, his hand softly on the small of your back. "They're good."

You glared at him, huffing and pulling away from his grasp. "Don't talk to me like that."

Eddie sighed, tired and bored. "Like what?"

"Like that," You sneered, voice low as you stood behind the gate with the other parents, watching their kids as they told Santa their lists. "You don't have to be so condescending."

"Condescending." Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, just like that." You snarled, turning away from him, lips in a tight, annoyed line. "Like you always are."

Eddie nodded, slowly, tongue running on the inside of his cheek. There was a tense pause, both of you looking forward wordlessly.

"Look, I don't know what pissed you off so bad, if it's the Trina thing or-"

"-Can you not do this?" You bit in a hushed hiss. "Watch your kids. Don't make this about us." Your chin jerked towards Jude and Lucy, who were too enthralled with climbing on the fake sleigh to look back at two of you, which you were thankful for.

Eddie laughed humorlessly, an airy, unamused snort of air and you could feel him stiffening beside you. "Fine."

The eye roll you gave was so fierce it left you with a headache between the brows, fingers tapping on your crossed arms, trying to ignore him- to be present for your kids, enjoy and embrace the moment, but dammit was it hard. When he always had to have the last fucking word. Flashbacks of countless fights spun through your mind like a rolodex.

You managed enough cheer to mask the tension, greeting Jude and Lucy with their waving candy canes. "Did you tell Santa what you wanted?" You cooed, a hand running over Lucy's head.

"Yeah," Jude hugged your waist. "I told him I'd been really good, but will you tell him too, Mama? When you talk to him later."

You smiled, warm with content at his childlike innocence. "Of course." You nodded. "Let me pay for your photo and you can take it to Papa Wayne-"

"-I got it." Eddie muttered, still not looking at you, already flicking through the bills of his wallet, handing them to the cashier dressed like a elf.

"Let me pay you my half." You frowned, slinging your purse forward, pulling the zipper.

Eddie shook his head with an eye roll, nodding at the cashier, before stepping to the side. He sifted through the change in his palm, plucking out two quarters and handing them to Lucy and Jude. "Here, go get something out of the gumball machine."

Lucy and Jude squealed with excitement, bounding towards the array of candy and toy machines in the middle of the mall, ignoring your shout of warning.

"They already have a candy cane." You looked at Eddie with a bored expression. "So you're giving them more sugar?"

"Jesus Christ, it's the holidays." Eddie huffed. "Thought this was your favorite holiday?"

"It is." You countered, arms crossing over your frame defensively.

"Then quit bein' so mean." Eddie shook his head. "Just 'cause you're pissed at me."

"I'm not pissed at you." Your lips pressed in a hard line. "Not everything is about you."

Eddie let out a laugh, teetering on mocking and mean. "I- you know what, I give up." He shook his head. "Stay in your foul mood, whatever."

His hand fell on the white envelope on the counter, pulling the small photo out, handing it to you. "Here. Merry Christmas." His words fell flat, filled with irritation. "I'll have them back by eight tonight."

You fought back a snarl, looking at the grinning face of your children on the glossy photo, two identical smiles that reminded you so much of the man you loved- used to love.

"C'mon, let's go see Papa." Eddie clapped, grinning at the kids. "Tell Mama bye." His eyes met your with a forced grin, teeth nearly baring at you.

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, bending to hug each of them, pressing a kiss to their cheeks. "Be good, ok? Tell Papa I said hi."

Your eyes met Eddie's, a beat of silence between both of you, nearly challenging the other to speak first, to admit defeat. Neither of you did.

Eddie gave a curt nod, turning in the opposite direction with your children through the ever growing crowd.

You felt incredibly lonely, walking to your car silently, a sinking feeling in the pit of your tummy.

"Fuck-" Your fingers brushing the tip of the box, pushing it further back onto the shelf, away from your grasp.

Your annoyed huff echoed off the concrete of the garage walls, settling back on your tip toes. "Are you fuckin' serious? Ed-" Your words were strangled in your throat, heart dropping with sudden realization.

He wasn't here.

You should've been used to it by now. The house was empty, quiet even with the stereo playing. You'd turned it on, shoved a worn Christmas cassette tape in and tried to drown out the miserable silence that filled the house.

It used to be a tradition, just for the two of you. You and Eddie would drop the kids off at Wayne's going back home to wrap all the gifts you'd hidden. Eddie was always in charge of that, hiding them in the hard to reach, clever places around the house. You'd make hot toddies on the stove, Eddie would put on your favorite Christmas cassette without asking, and you'd spend the evening wrapping gifts.

Your first Christmas, Eddie had been so excited, positively beaming as you wrapped little onesies and teething toys- small gifts for Jude, but Eddie still boasted with pride. "Can you believe we're really doin' this? We're parents. Real parents wrapping real gifts for our real kid. Isn't- That's just fuckin' insane."

Now, you were alone, wrapping gifts for your kids and filling out the gift tag just to them for the first time in years.

The feeling was anything but joyful, sitting on your couch alone while Rudolph played lowly in the background. The hot toddy you'd made didn't nearly lift your spirits the way you hoped. No, if anything, it only made you feel worse.

Maybe it had been a mistake- the divorce. The thought had consumed you since you'd heard about Trina. Maybe Eddie was right, maybe the divorce was too much. Maybe you should have gone to therapy instead. Why else would you be feeling like this? Alone and miserable and full of regret. Were you just jealous? Was it the longer, darker days and colder weather messing with your mind? Or was it really that you-

"Hellooooooo!" Jude's sing-songy scream had you jumping, the hot liquid sloshing over the edge of the mug, splashing on to your reindeer printed pajamas.

"In here." Your voice was tight, not passing for the cheery tone you were hoping.

Two sets of feet bounded towards you as you set down your mug. Jude and Lucy came in, babbling with excitement about their day with Papa Wayne, still in their snow boots and coats.

"Mama, we saw Papa today an-and he asked me if I could make him some extra reindeer food so he can have some for his roof too, so Santa doesn't miss him." Jude jumped in your lap, eyes bright and wild as he told his story with excitement.

"Did he?" You grinned, unzipping Jude's jacket gently. "We'll have to make him some, won't we?"

"Yeah." Jude nodded, looking over at the tree. "Are those for us?" His eyes widened.

"Not until Christmas." You pointed at him. "Or I'll take them all back."

Jude pouted, eyes darting towards the screen. Your eyes cut towards Eddie as he helped Lucy out of her little snow boots, shimmying them off carefully and putting them by the door. The ache in your chest only grew.

You stood, crossing the living room towards the entry way. "Hey, Luce," You cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head when she flung herself at you. "Did you have fun today with Papa?"

"Yeah," Lucy giggled, hanging off your leg. "We gotta see the lights."

"The neighbors," Eddie muttered, his gaze not meeting yours, looking at Lucy instead. "They have a bunch of light displays now. Decked out the whole trailer. She really liked it."

"That sounds like fun." You smoothed a hand over her head. "Why don't you go see what Jude's watching? Let me talk to Daddy for a minute. Ok?" You tracked her as she bounded towards the living room, plopping next to Jude on the couch.

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between you and Eddie before you even turned around.

"So, um," You swallowed, rocking back and forth on your slippered toes. "Sounds like they had a good time." You lifted your head, looking up at Eddie.

"Yeah, they had fun." Eddie shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, eyes flickering from you to the frilly garland over the door. That same dreaded pause came back, filling the space between you.

"I'll head out," Eddie broke the silence, your heart lurching at his words. "I'll, uh, be back tomorrow morning, if that's cool? Stop by and-"

"-Wait," Your tone was fiercer than you meant it to be, Eddie's eyes told you that. "I-I just-" You turned towards the kitchen, heart hammering with a steady thud in your ears.

"I, uh, I made hot toddies." You swallowed your hammering heart. "Why don't you- I mean, if you want one, yo-you could stay for a while. Put the kids to bed, ya know, if you don't have plans or whatever." You muttered, cringing at how juvenile you sounded. You sounded like you were back in high school, stammering the same way you had when Eddie first asked you out.

Eddie's lip curled in a small smile, running a hand over his face. "Sure." He shrugged, shedding off his worn leather jacket. "Thank you."

You shook your head gently, turning towards the kitchen, ears ringing with the dull beating of your heart, barely registering the squeals of laughter from Jude and Lucy in the other room. You ladled the steaming contents into a festive mug nearly robotically, brain numb with the same swirling thoughts that made you feel like you were underwater- washing away in the strong current of your own mind.

Your slippers felt like weights, dragging your body across the hardwood floor towards the living room, passing Eddie the steaming cup. His hand brushed yours, sending your system flooded with electric excitement.

As you settled back into the cushions, your body relaxed- just for a moment. The kids were squealing, babbling and giggling about their afternoon with Papa. Rudolph still playing lowly in the background. Eddie next to you, sipping out of his mug. For a moment, the lights strung on the tree felt brighter, warmer.

For a moment, it felt like home again.

That sickening realization had your stomach lurching, pulling you back into the cruel reality that none of this was permanent. Eddie, the lights, the happiness- it was all temporary. It would be gone tomorrow.

You wished it wouldn't.

Your mind at war with itself, filled with conflict and regret as you tried to mask it, giving fake grins and exaggerated coos that half heartedly passed for truthful.

"They're finally asleep." Eddie's voice had you jumping, the mug slipping through your hands into the sudsy water.

You turned, chin hooking over your shoulder to face him. "You were probably right. All that candy wasn't the best idea." Eddie gave a tight grin, his eyes sparkling dully, just enough to have your heart skipping. "They got even more at Wayne's too."

"I told you," You sighed softly, a playful hum in your tone. Still, it wasn't convincing enough, not for Eddie.

Eddie frowned behind you. "What's goin' on with you?" He didn't miss the way your spine went rigid.

"What?" You voice pitched, high like it was when you were lying- when you were hiding something. That hadn't changed since high school.

"Don't- c'mon." Eddie gave a soft huff, accompanied by an eye roll. "Just tell me what's goin' on."

"Nothing's goin' on-"

"-Don't lie to me." Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. "I've known you too long. You think you can lie to me and I won't know? Please."

Your lips tugged in a smile you tried to hide, turning back towards the dishes you were finishing up. Eddie moved beside you, hip leaning on the counter next to you.

"What's on your mind, baby?" His voice was so gentle- you hated that it was exactly what you needed, that he knew it was exactly what you needed.

You swallowed the ever growing lump in your throat, fighting the swell of tears that was already forming.

"Hey, c'mon, sweetheart," Eddie's hand pressed to your cheek, cupping it sweetly, his rings pressed to your skin. "Talk t'me, baby. What's goin' on?"

"Nothing." Your voice was as strained as the words you struggled to get out.

"Baby," Eddie eyed you playfully. "I know we're not together anymore, but I still know you and you can- what's wrong?" He froze, his hold going rigid at the first shake- a tremble of emotion that was a telltale sign you were about to break.

"Did I say something? I was just- hey, don't cry. Don't cry." Eddie cooed, gathering your face in his hands, pulling you towards him.

Your lip trembled, biting back a sob that tore its way through anyways, vision flooding with tears that built on your waterline.

"Is this- Is this about Trina? Because I didn't- Nothing happened, we just went out. Well, I mean, she kissed me, but I didn't- I really didn't-" Eddie's voice rose in panic, rambling, frantic at the watery sob you let out.

"Please, hey, please don't cry? I'm not- fuck, baby, I didn't- I thought it would be ok, be-because you'd been on a few dates, and I thought it would be a good thing."

"It is." You blubbered, sniffling wetly, wiping your eyes with the back of your rolled pajama tops.

"Then why are you crying?" Eddie frowned lightly, pads of his thumbs wiping over the apples of your wet cheeks catching your tears.

"I just..." Your eyes pinched shut, jaw clenching to keep in another sob. How could you tell him? You couldn't. You knew you couldn't, even though you wanted to so badly.

"Just what?" Eddie's voice dropped. "Tell me."

He could feel your trembling breath, his own heart squeezing with constricting fear before you spoke.

"I just... I miss this." Your voice cracked, eyes squeezing shut. You couldn't look at him, couldn't bring yourself to see his reaction.

"I-I didn't know how much I would miss just... just us all being together, and I really fuckin' miss it, and I think," Your breath hitched, heart stilling entirely with hesitant fear.

Eddie held his own breath, eyes wide, looking at you with a wild gaze like he knew what you were going to say.

"I think," You swallowed around your words, strangled in your throat. "I... I made a mistake."

Eddie's heart leapt so fiercely he thought it tore through his rib cage. His body eerily still, unable to move.

"I didn't know you going out with someone else w-would make me feel... this bad, and," Your eyes shone, the strung lights in the kitchen catching in your tears. "And I've really missed you."

"I've missed you too." Eddie's lungs constricted with those words, feeling breathless and light headed.

"I don't like spending the holidays without you." Your voice squeaked, teary and upset, face crumbling with the admission you'd been holding in for too long. "I don't- I don't like being without you, an-and I think I made a really bad mistake and I-I'm sorry, Eddie, I'm so-o sorry-"

Your teary face pressed to the soft material of his t-shirt, your cry muffled into his chest. Eddie held you close to him, as tight as he could, his own head spinning now.

He'd dreamt of this, longed for this moment since you'd fist served him the papers. The day had finally come, one he thought he'd only see in his head- you coming back to him, taking it back, taking him back.

Only it didn't feel as triumphant as it did in his head.

Not with you sobbing into his arms. Not with his head spinning so fiercely he thought he might still be dreaming.

"It's alright," Eddie soothed nearly robotically, staring ahead out the window towards the darkened street as he soothed your sobbing apologies. "We'll- We'll figure it out, baby. We'll be alright."

Every time you both felt like you found your footing, finally on stable ground, you were back here- falling with horror back into uncertainty.

Even as Eddie held you in the kitchen, or later when he slipped into bed with you, both of you whispering and sniffly under the sheets, it wasn't new but it wasn't the same as it was before.

You weren't sure if it would ever be the same as it was before, if you'd ever have what you had before. Even if you replicated the same traditions, hung the tinsel in the same place, retraced your footsteps exactly as you did the year before; it would never hold the same feeling as it once did.

[ultralightpoe]

JUNO - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]

Enjoy!

“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”

-

You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain. 

There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person. 

Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?

But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. 

Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare. 

From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said. 

As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’.  But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink. 

Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention.  Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat. 

This could be fun. 

“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it. 

“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”

“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh. 

“Would it be worth my time?”

“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”

But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?

But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic. 

“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”

-

That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin. 

“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”

The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”

“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?” 

As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost. 

“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”

He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door. 

You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you. 

You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.” 

“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.” 

Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress. 

“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”

“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”

“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath. 

Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms. 

He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining. 

“What will you give me?”

“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”

“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”

“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him. 

You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence. 

When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark. 

He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster. 

So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”

-

It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about. 

Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill. 

But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?

And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person. 

“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors. 

-

“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)

Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)

Can't help myself, hormonеs are high

Give me more than just some butterflies”

-

“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”

“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan. 

Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn. 

The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back. 

“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”

“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off. 

He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”

And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to. 

And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap. 

“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm. 

“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home. 

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?”

-

The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check. 

You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement. 

“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.

“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you. 

“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”

He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.” 

“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt. 

You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center. 

He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own. 

With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair. 

It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan. 

And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him. 

Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up. 

You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”

“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze. 

You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”

“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point 

“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”

And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them. 

“You ready doll?”

“Always for you sergeant.”

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”

-

He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time. 

His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back. 

It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure. 

And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off. 

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)

I'm so fuckin' horny

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”

-

His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild. 

Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump. 

Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher. 

By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets. 

-

“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might (Might)”

-

You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was  empty. 

So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs. 

You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin. 

By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you. 

“Goodnight.” You whisper. 

“Goodnight, Doll.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

The waiting was the most dreadful feeling. 

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door. 

It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look. 

“Is it…”

“I….”

And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.

-

[alchemistc]

He's drunk when he sends it. Pissed because Buck won't just let this die. Tired of seeing his name flash across his screen, texts full of anger and sadness and hurt.

I suspect you've already met your last and it's not me he sends, and then turns off his phone and reaches for the bottle of whiskey on his top shelf.

---

If he'd been sober he would have known better. It's not even like it's been a pervasive thought - just an inkling at the start of things that seemed to be completely off base once he got to know everyone better, but looking back... He can see it. The built in life. The steadfast support. The knowledge that they'd always, always have each other's back. The kid who hero worshipped him.

The thing is he's fielding texts from Eddie, too, checking in and then circling around to being so goddamn judgmental that it's like they've coordinated their attacks to give Tommy no room to breathe.

He ended it to save himself from slipping so far under the surface he wouldn't make it back.

The fact that he's lost them both to his own fear is icing on the cake for the demon on his shoulder that keeps trying to remind him that once upon a time he'd fully thought Eddie and Buck were amicable exes.

---

He has to blink to figure out who's standing on his doorstep. The mustache is gone.

"If you meant who I think you mean, you're dumber than you look," Eddie says, and shoulders past Tommy before Tommy can even muster an affronted expression.

Tommy wanders after Eddie into his own kitchen, immediately annoyed that he looks more at home there than Tommy has felt in weeks. He'd gotten used to the loft - the space, the echoes, the lights of the city. The smell of his own aftershave on Buck's pillow.

They never spent much time here. The loft was closer - to Harbor, to the 118, to all the things in the city that tempted them out for a night. And staying at the loft meant he wouldn't have the echoes of Buck in every room, around every corner. (The echoes are in him, instead, and he still feels the absence like a lanced wound.) Tommy has always been good at making other people think he's good at putting distance between himself and them.

Eddie digs in a drawer, pulls out the bottle opener shaped like a cow and pops two tops. Holds one out for Tommy and scowls when Tommy wrinkles his nose at the Corona.

"Absolutely screw you if you think I'm driving halfway across town for you just to get the ones you like, right now."

Tommy can't argue that. He takes a drag and swallows. Stares. Is everyone else experiencing whiplash seeing him without the mustache? It looks fine but it'd taken so much fucking work to get used to it and now it's just gone. Clean shaven, an acre of skin he hasn't seen in months.

Tommy blinked and the entire world was different. Tommy freaked and the world changed.

"What are you doing here?"

Eddie's eyebrows both lift, a frank Are You Fucking Serious look on his face that makes Tommy want to take him to the mats and have it out in the garage instead of over beers.

"Buck may be spinning his wheels trying to figure out what the fuck you meant but I know damn well what you were implying."

That seems unlikely. Eddie always seems to be the last person to have a single clue what was going on, with Buck scraping in just before him. It's a tight race.

He used to find it charming.

(He absolutely does not still find it charming, he tells his heart, and wonders if he could hire some tiny asshole gnome to go stomp around in an atrium or two and get it to stop doing what it's doing. Fucking traitor.)

"Do you actually believe that, or is it some dumb excuse because you're terrified of being happy?"

Oh, that's fucking rich.

Tommy opens his mouth to tell him exactly that but Eddie just steamrolls right by him. "You don't have to point out the hypocrisy, jackass. I'm well aware of my own issues. Thing is - you're like, almost right. Buck does make me happy. Next to Chris there's no one else in the world I'd rather have by my side, rain or shine, good or bad. I love him. He's my person."

Tommy rolls his jaw. It's not a vindication to hear it.

"Except I'm not gay, Tommy. And I don't want that. I never have. And neither does Buck, just in case that argument was about to hit the airwaves."

"How do you know?"

Something sparks in the back of Eddie's eyes. Understanding. Triumph.

"You want an itemized list or a demonstration?"

Which is when Tommy knows he's stepped into an absolute minefield. No markers. Just free balling his way through a conversation that could explode with even the slightest pressure.

Eddie's got his phone out.

None of this is ideal.

When he looks up, his eyes land squarely on Tommy, who would like in this moment to be able to curl so far in on himself he gets sucked clean through the other side. "First of all, Buck may have just been improvising his entire journey of sexuality but for once I was trying to get ahead of the curve so that whole starry-eyed newly not straight vision you have of Buck is bullshit. You let him pull you along by the shirt strings for months without pressing pause and then you freak out when he thinks his speed and your speed are the same speed?"

This is feeling a whole lot like an ambush, now.

"Did you ever even try to slow him down?"

Tommy has some choice words that aren't remotely appropriate to say to someone who is at least tangentially still his friend, so he takes another swig of shitty beer. God, this shit is awful.

"You wanna know how I know I'm not his one? How I know he's not mine?"

Tommy really, really doesn't. Honestly he'd like to kick him out.

"Because he went at our friendship at the same warp speed pace he took your relationship and it never fucking scared me."

Proof in the pudding, for Tommy. He's not the sort of jackass who actually thinks he can make a different judgement call on someone else's sexuality than the one they've made themselves, but come on.

"Shannon's been dead for half a decade," Eddie says, voice dropping so suddenly Tommy feels it like an icy draft. "And maybe one day I'll make my peace with that. Maybe one day I'll get out from under it. The point is I've lost them both and the loss wasn't the goddamn same."

"Buck came back," Tommy argues.

Eddie scoffs. Wrinkles his nose. "Jeez, he wasn't kidding about how weird that sounds." His phone buzzes on the countertop, and Tommy wonders what the hell that look on his face means. "Don't change the subject. I'm not here to talk you into anything. I'm just here to drink a beer with you and tell you how goddamn stupid it is to think that an uncertain future with Evan Buckley isn't worth every second of terror it causes you."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do."

Eddie tips the bottle against his lips. Swallows. God, why hadn't Tommy just pursued the self-proclaimed straight guy for a couple weeks before he scratched the itch somewhere else and kept a friend, instead?

"Maybe." Eddie tips his head. "Maybe I do, though. Maybe in the months and months you were invited to all my mopey nights in with Buck and all the crazy crap we end up involved in at the station and all the times you couldn't shut up about him when he wasn't around and all the times I got to see you falling ass over teakettle for my best friend, I learned a fucking thing or two about Tommy Kinard." He wags his head back and forth. "Maybe."

"Is there a point to this?"

Eddie tips his eyes to his phone, and it's probably too late at this point for the suspicion to begin to creep in.

"I mostly just came to confront you about your completely off base bullshit excuses, but there's actually a pretty simple solution to at least one of your multitude of issues, so. Now we're waiting."

Tommy doesn't like the sound of that at all.

"Chris is mad at you, by the way."

It's a distraction. It's fully a - "Why is he mad at me?"

"I should actually thank you, because it's the first time he's actively talked to me in months," Eddie continues, like Tommy hadn't asked a question. "He's pissed because Buck is sad and there's literally nothing in the world that gets a rise out of the Diaz boys like sad Buck."

"You can just say you're pissed at me and go, Eddie."

"Oh I'm angry. Don't think I'm not. Mostly I'm just sad for you. You had six months to get to know Buck and never thought to yourself 'hes going to love me and it's going to hurt' until he skipped too far ahead in the program."

And that's - kind of the final straw. He's let Eddie get his licks in. He deserves it, he knows he does. Honestly it's a little cathartic to hear - to know exactly what Buck has spent his time dissecting post-Tommy. "That's all I ever thought about. Do you think I didn't know going in? I tried to put a stop to it before it even started and he just doubled down! Do you think for a second I wasn't viscously aware that I was setting myself up for -."

No. He's not gonna say it. He's not giving that to Eddie when he couldn't even give it to Ev-Buck. When he couldn't give it to Buck.

Eddie looks victorious anyway.

"And for six months you thought it was worth it."

"For six months I was too much of a coward to stop thinking about it."

Eddie drains the rest of his beer. "I'm not gonna lie. You screwed up pretty bad. Like. Astronomically bad. Giving up your location in a firefight bad."

Tommy does everything he can not to wince.

"It's salvageable, though. If you want it to be. If there's anything I know about Buck it's that second chances are his bread and butter." He's been dancing around saying anything of substance about Buck's feelings, in all of this, but the hints are there. As if the bouts of angry-depressive texts from Buck weren't clue enough.

"And what if it's not what I want?"

Eddie's eyes dart to his phone one more time. "Then you can make it a clean break in about ... three and a half minutes."

Tommy nearly tosses his beer across the room.

[william-t-sickofyourshit]

So it was decided - Sebastian was going to have a surprise visit tomorrow! William really hoped that this will cheer him up, and he was sure that it will make him happy to know how supportive their friends were. Ronald offered to get flowers, and Alan and Eric were going to buy some sweets. William gave them tips regarding what Sebastian liked best. And he was honestly so touched that everyone cared so much, and that they wanted to go and show Sebastian their support. It was so sweet! And honestly, William felt lighter right away, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders… he didn’t have to deal with this situation all alone anymore. 

The three friends stayed at William’s place for a little bit, they still had some questions about Sebastian’s condition, and what it all meant, when he could get back to work. William answered as best as he could, but there were still lots of things that he didn’t know himself, still a lot of unknown ahead of them… But at least now he felt a little reassured that there were people around who will help both of them go through this difficult time.

Once the friends left, among many more hugs, William quickly got ready to finally go visit Sebastian in the hospital. First he went to his cottage to take care of the cats, clean their litter boxes and feed them, make sure everything was alright. And then he hopped into the car, and sped up down the road, wanting to see his boyfriend as soon as possible. He was rushing, and he didn’t even have time to text Seb and let him know that he was on the way.

And William had no idea that Sebastian actually already had a visitor! His grandma was there, keeping him company. So William was in for a surprise. As he walked into Sebastian's hospital room, he was still in a rush, so he didn’t notice someone else was there right away.

“Hey darling! Ah, sorry I’m so late…” William greeted his boyfriend as he walked in, but soon he came to a halt as he noticed an older lady there. It was a no-brainer to figure out it was probably Seb’s grandma. “Oh, sorry I didn’t know you have a visitor. Hi, hello…” William smiled politely. 

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Doctor Doctor, Gimme The News | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Doctor!Reader

Summary: You receive a particularly difficult patient by the name of Bradshaw and you try your best to resist his charms.

CW: tall Bradley, Mavdad, it's still goofy XD

WC: 1800+

Part 1 | Masterlist

You’re sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand, waiting for your friend to finish flirting with the bartender so you can pay your tab, when you hear a familiar voice from behind.

“Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”

You glance over your shoulder wearily, instantly recognizing the tall aviator you met at the clinic earlier in the week. Bradshaw, was it? “Yeah, I get that a lot,” you say, giving him a polite smile before turning away.

Bradley doesn’t take the hint and plants himself on the barstool next to you. “So, are you gonna tell me your name? Or am I just gonna have to keep calling you Doc? Might get a bit awkward in bed.”

You snort into your drink as you’re taking a sip. Bradley grins, clearly pleased that he’s made you laugh. His slightly narrowed eyes sweep over your face with a quiet confidence, and you find yourself rather enjoying his attention. “Well, for the sake of making things less awkward,” you respond with a small smile, and then tell him your name.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, and then leans forward slightly to add, “again.”

You bite into your lip to suppress your widening grin.

“I was hoping I’d run into you, actually,” he comments, turning away to flag down the otherwise occupied bartender.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, feigning surprise.

“Yeah,” Bradley responds, tapping on his beer bottle and nodding at the bartender. He turns back to you and shrugs. “Saves me from having to fake an illness to come see you.”

You eye him somewhat reproachfully. “That would be extremely inappropriate.”

Bradley laughs. “If you think that’s inappropriate, I’m not gonna tell you what I planned on doing once I got there.”

Your eyes widen at the insinuation. “Lieutenant!” you exclaim.

Bradley continues chuckling. “Don’t worry, you’d have liked it.” He winks and then nods at the bartender who’s brought him his beer.

You stare at him because his boldness is mindboggling. “You shouldn’t be drinking with a head injury,” you point out.

He looks at you with amusement. “What head injury?”

“The one that brought you to my office?”

“You know what brought me to your office?” he says, and then points a thumb over his shoulder at a crowded table near the back of the bar. “Captain Maverick Mitchell. My self-appointed father figure,” he says in a tone that’s half-grudging, half-affectionate. “And possibly fate,” he adds as an afterthought.

You blink at him skeptically when he glances back at you. “Wow,” you say. “Pulling out the big guns.”

Bradley laughs again. “I have quite the arsenal.”

“Oh, I bet,” you say with a chuckle. “Aviator, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bradley responds proudly. Then he nods at the glass you bring to your lips. “Looks like you need a refill.”

You shake your head. “I was about to head out actually.”

Bradley purses his lips and narrows his eyes. “But then I arrived and changed your mind, right?”

You laugh slightly. “Not quite, Lieutenant,” you respond, rising from your stool and waving at the bartender. “I’ve got an early morning.”

Bradley gets out of his seat and pulls out his wallet. “Allow me, please,” he says.

“That’s not necessary,” you reply uncomfortably. You don’t like feeling indebted to anyone.

Bradley gives you a more serious look. “It’s the least I could do for nagging you this evening.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads of its own accord. You find Bradley reasonably attractive, sure. But it’s the way he carries himself that’s really got you hooked. You can hardly pull your gaze away. “Don’t forget about the part where you were the most obnoxious patient.”

Bradley lets out a hearty laugh. “That deserves a whole pint, Doc.”

You give him a smile. “Maybe another time,” you say politely. Despite his persistence, you can’t jeopardize your position at the clinic by consorting with a patient.

But before you turn to leave, Captain Mitchell approaches the bar and, upon perceiving you, he exclaims, “Oh! It’s the doctor!” He gestures in your direction while looking at Bradley.

Bradley gives him a flat look. “No shit,” he says.

Maverick glances between the two of you and then nods in realization. “You’ve spotted her already.”

You press your lips together to conceal a smile as Bradley brings a hand to his face like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his ‘self-appointed father figure’. “Hello again,” you say to the captain, extending your hand.

“Good to see you, Doctor,” Maverick replies with a knowing grin, shaking your hand. “Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”

“Oh god,” Bradley groans. “That's embarrassing.”

Maverick looks over at him with a confused expression while you giggle. “I was actually planning on scheduling him in for a follow-up,” Maverick says. “Noticed some concerning behaviors.”

You raise your eyebrows while Bradley watches Maverick’s profile incredulously.

“New behaviors?” you ask, glancing back at Bradley.

“No, no.” Maverick waves a hand nonchalantly as he settles onto a barstool. “Not new.”

Bradley shakes his head. “Why are you such a shit disturber?”

Maverick laughs and claps him on the back. “You buy the lady a drink yet?”

You drop your head slightly to hide your growing smile.

“I was trying to,” Bradley declares. “Before your ass showed up.”

You look up apologetically at the two men who are now watching you expectantly. “I’m not…thirsty.”

Maverick winces while Bradley’s shoulders visibly fall. “It’s his fault, isn’t it?” Bradley says, gesturing at Maverick with his thumb again.

“How is it my fault?” Maverick exclaims.

“It’s not his fault,” you attest, glancing at the captain.

“You should talk some more about my concerning behaviors,” Bradley retorts.

Maverick snorts. “I was kidding!” he says. “She knows!” he gestures at you. “You know, right?”

You glance between the two men patiently, wondering if they realize just how much they have in common. “Neither of you is driving tonight, right?” you ask, feeling, for some strange reason, a sense of responsibility for them.

Maverick turns to face you with a jolt. “I’m sober,” he asserts.

Bradley’s eyebrows converge in a dubious expression before he looks back at you. “He’s not driving,” he confirms.

“And you?”

“This is only my second beer!” he exclaims.

You meet his gaze with a smile because you don’t want him to feel attacked. “Okay,” you respond gently. “Drive safe.”

You start to walk away when you hear Bradley say, “Can I walk you to your car, Doc?”

You turn to face him again, about halfway to the door. “You know my name now,” you say, and he grins at you.

“I do,” he agrees. “That was for old times’ sake.”

You sigh. “Sure, Lieutenant. You can walk me to my car.”

…

Out in the parking lot, Bradley muses, “I’m thinking of maybe dislocating my shoulder next week. That’s an easy fix, right?”

You look over at him sharply. “That’s not funny.”

Bradley grins. “Not even a little?”

You roll your eyes at him and continue walking.

“Come on, Doc!” he calls after you. “My sense of humor is a good thing, remember?”

You smile to yourself and slow your pace to let him catch up. “There are other ways of getting my attention besides injuring yourself,” you remark as he falls back in step with you.

“Such as?” he asks.

You approach your car and unlock the door. “I can’t give away all the answers, can I?”

Bradley presses his lips together and grins. “Does that mean I have a shot?”

You lower your gaze coyly. “I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

“That’s not a ‘no’,” he points out.

You smile, glancing back up at him. “No,” you agree. “I suppose it’s not.”

Bradley’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he holds your gaze. “Can I take you to dinner?” he asks.

“No,” you reply almost immediately. Then, after a beat, you add, “Not yet.”

Bradley licks his lips, still grinning. “I’ll take it.”

You chuckle slightly, reaching for the door to your car.

“Can I stand here with you a little longer?” he asks, his voice a little more raspy when it isn’t bursting with confidence.

You pause, your hand still on the door, shocked at how desperately you want to oblige. How delightful it would be to just say yes on a whim. Without considering the repercussions or weighing the pros and cons. Without deliberation or apprehension. Impulsively. The word itself makes you flustered. “Okay,” you say, glancing up at him as he shifts a little closer.

Bradley smiles at you and leans his back to the car. He stands quietly for a few moments, just existing beside you, which you find both endearing and infuriating. You don’t have a lot of time on your hands and simply standing around is a colossal waste of it in your books. But something about the warm evening breeze paired with the smell of the ocean and Bradley’s crisp cologne makes the experience less harrowing, and maybe even possibly pleasant.

Still, you’re restless. “So, when you said you wanted to stand here, you actually meant stand here…” you comment.

Bradley glances down at you with an amused expression. “You got something else in mind, Doc?”

You half-snort, half-chuckle. “I just thought maybe you had something else to say. I didn’t realize we’d be standing in silence.”

Bradley grins at you. “It’s called being present.”

You study him with a slight grimace, genuinely trying to keep your cynicism at bay. Being present isn’t a kind of luxury you can often afford. Most days, you don’t even get a chance to eat sitting down. “What does that accomplish?” you ask.

Bradley, who’s still watching you with a smile, replies, “Does everything you do have a purpose?”

“Of course,” you say. “Why else would I do it?”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and puts his hands into his pockets. “That’s very practical of you.”

“It’s efficient,” you point out, trying to highlight the importance of productivity.

Bradley nods patiently. “Sounds like you need a night off, Doc.”

You laugh. “I just had a night off. But it had a purpose – my friend needed help wooing the bartender.”

Bradley chuckles. “Has the purpose ever been to just have a good time?”

You make a face and shrug. “That’s not really a priority of mine.”

“Wow, Doc, you’re a hoot,” Bradley replies facetiously.

“I warned you,” you remind him, opening your car door.

Bradley leans his arm over the frame of your car as you climb inside. “You know you leave me no choice, right?” he says, ducking his head slightly to peer into the vehicle.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“We’re going to have to rearrange your list of priorities,” he says.

You watch him for a moment, marveling at his persistence. His gaze drops briefly to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes again, and you wonder what it might feel like to be kissed by a guy like Bradley. It would probably be sexy and spontaneous. It would probably catch you off guard and possibly even offend you a little. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t mind being mildly offended if it meant kissing Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. “I’m not sure that’s a realistic goal,” you say. Your tone might be sarcastic, but the statement is fairly accurate.

Bradley grins. “I don’t mind a challenge.”

Rooster Tag List:

I'll be putting the rest of the list in the comments shortly! Please feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my Rooster fics.

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

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@wkndwlff

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@SometimesAnAlice

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@sarcastic-sourwolf

@birdy-bat-writes

[hannieehaee]

How about Joshua with a s/o who always wears baggy clothes and doesnt feel attractive because she doesnt wear revealing ones ?

If u want to write it pls do it only if u are ok with it and feel inspired ♡♡

content: bf!joshua, established relationship, some talk about insecurities, fluff, etc.

wc: 605

a/n: so sorry i took so long to write this!!

masterlist

"hey, babe, have you seen my shirt? you know, the grey one with the loose neck? i thought i- oh."

"huh? what was that?", you asked as you took out an earbud, turning to look at the boy who'd been trying to call your attention.

chuckling, he rounded the kitchen island to reach your side, hands practically attaching to your waist like magnets as he aided you in removing the other earbud, placing both on the counter next to you.

"i was just wondering where my band tee went, but i think i have my answer," he chuckled, pressing a sweet peck to your temple.

"oh, fuck. sorry, josh. do you want it? i can go change," you went to disconnect from him, but he wasnt having it, instead nuzzling his head on your shoulder.

"hm. it smells of my cologne still," he said almost to himself, "you don't have to take it off. i like you in my clothes," he reassured.

you could only scoff.

"your clothes are baggy on me. just like all my other clothes. what difference does it really make?"

joshua shrugged, "just like knowing you're wearing something of mine. you're style's cute. you're cute."

"flattery will get you everywhere, hong," you laughed.

it was one of those nice, domestic moments that occurred every so often. you basked in it, enjoying it before the two of you went back to your regular days.

it wasn't until later that you started to think about what you'd said to joshua earlier.

you did have a tendency to wear baggier clothes. hell, there really was no difference between wearing something of his and a piece of your own. it was incredibly rare for you to show skin or any sort of silhouette, and those instances were really reserved for nights too warm to handle in which you had to opt for some shorts and a tank top.

but even then, you went for looser ensembles. clothes that showed your figure were never really your forte.

you couldn't help but wonder if this ever bothered josh. would he have preferred if your style varied more? what if he thought of you as a prude? maybe he-

"what's got you thinking so loud?", the boy in question interrupted your inner turmoil.

you hadn't realized as you sat in front of your vanity, face wash in hand and still unused, that you'd frozen in place as you thought. his presence in the restroom hadn't registered until he spoke.

"just, uh," you pondered as to whether or not to voice your concerns, but his compassionate smile reflecting on the mirror made you decide, "i was thinking that maybe you'd like it better if i dressed differently? you know, maybe show more skin?"

you voiced it as a question, insecurities building in you as you sought a direct expression of his preferences.

"are you kidding? i like how you dress. and it's not really something that bothers me. you're comfortable and you're beautiful. it's a win-win situation for me," he kind of chuckled as he spoke, finding your question very sudden and unnecessary.

"oh."

you felt a bit dumb now.

"has this been worrying you? you know i'm like obsessed with you, right? you could wear a trash bag and i'd still be as obsessed," he joked, closing in on you similarly to how he'd done earlier in the day.

he finished his statement with a kiss pressed to your lips, humming when you kissed back.

"this just gives me free reign of your closet. i hope you know that," you jested.

"baby, i'm rich. take whatever you want."

[machveil]

I can't resist the siren call

Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N

subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts

Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie

Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later

Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks

Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”

CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent

he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds

he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic

when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—

he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again

[wifes-xxx]

There have been moments, especially when we open our hearts to a husband , where you have felt a distance between you. I know It's as if the door to your heart opens just halfway, holding back parts of you out of fear, caution, or maybe something you now can't quite understand. It struck you deeply like a slap, and you couldn't help but fee this realisation, it sounds like you are being self centred "I can't believe you would be someone so selfish. That you cant give yourself over completely to your relationship. What a dried up and broken woman you have become"

The beauty of exploring love languages and embracing our vulnerabilities lies in their reflection of real-life relationships. These concepts encourage us to examine our own connections, fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation for the complexities of love. It's an invitation to reflect on how we communicate affection and how we can better align with our loved ones, paving the way for more fulfilling relationships

Have you noticed sometimes when you do want it from a your guy , it almost feels like you’re invisible to him?

Are you nodding along?

Has this happened to you?

You already know you’re smitten. With your husband, only…you’re not bold and slutty, so you don’t feel comfortable just walking over and dropping to your knees and unzipping his pants and pulling it out, or telling him that you’re horny and need fucking… now!

So what can you do because you know it’s insulting to him for you to be a boring prude?

It’s fairly easy to get attention, but that doesn’t in any way guarantee that he will want to fuck you. Just something to be aware of. Once you have his attention, you’ll want to really notice what his reaction to you is. Does he smile while listening to every word, or is he busier checking his phone than talking to you? The sharper your observation skills, the less time you waste on knowing how to please him.

Grow up…you’re acting like you’re in middle school. You’re not. There are better, high-value ways to get his attention. Be his wife, his woman and his lover. Show him what you have and let him enjoy you.

Never be boring or distant.

Instead make yourself interesting and be interested in him and his desires. Learn what makes him hard.

Think of each moment like the dating game, you may be insecure about flirting or expressing your interest. It will take practice, but you’ve got this! Show some sexual aggression and really let him know what you have in mind. Use your brain. Or play open docile and ditzy. If it makes him hard and your feeling horny and wet, know in your heart its working for you. Remember that.

Be his good girl a figure out what turns him on and makes him hard, and interested. Usually, within a few minutes of conversation and , you can deduce this. Obviously, look for a bulge, but also keep an eye out for signs of breast gaze and lip gazing what part of your body is he focused upon! Display yourself with abandon like the women these men look at on Tumblr. They are interested atvtmhem for a reason. Forgot you self and think about why men masturbate to these kind of women pictures.

Let it change you prudish self.

Keep the conversation going once you have his attention, and make it clear that you’re not just being normal friendly (you’re being flirty friendly!). Use your language in and out of the bedroom to keep him engaged.

“You make me so wet”

“Never Stop”

“That feels amazing”

“Does that feel good?”

“I can feel your dick throbbing”

“I want you here right now”

“I want You so bad”

“I was thinking about you today”

“ oh fuck me, Just Like That”

“You make me want to scream”

“Fill me up”

” I'm curious honey what porn makes you. Hard“

“Fuck me like you mean it”

“Harder”

“I feel tiny in your arms”

“I love you”

“I love your dick”

“I want your cum”

“Kiss Me”

“Make me cum baby”

“Seeing you right after a workout”

“Taste Me”

“Your cock is stretching me out”

“I'm not wearing my panties today“

Feel free to share you favourites with me.

Oh God, this felt amazingly good to write. I am sooo ready for him.

S_XXX

[demonic0angel]

Anger management idea

Jason got himself trapped in a fairy circle. It's not ideal, but it's far from the worst day of his life. And the Fae trying to free him is cute, even though she's having trouble using her magic.

Jason leaned on his hand as he sat on the ground. He sighed through his nose, wondering why he even had the stupid thought of taking a shortcut.

Tim was a descendent of a fae himself, so why on earth did he do this when he knew better?

He lifted his eyes up.

At least the faery that had appeared out of the ring was cute.

He watched her flutter around, her delicate wings flapping as she muttered to herself, a tiny book in her hands. Her wings were like a butterfly’s, black with white and turquoise spots. Her brilliant red hair contrasted against the dark colors and her clothes, made of water fabric and flower petals, sparkled within the sun.

“I’m sorry,” the faery said again. “I’ll get you out soon.” She had taken it upon herself to help him, despite how Jason had nothing to offer her. He was already grateful that she was willing to do something, so he didn’t feel angry.

“It’s okay,” responded Jason nonchalantly. “Take your time.”

At this rate, she wouldn’t figure it out for another hour and he could take that time to relax and watch her flit about like a nervous hummingbird. She was so beautiful that it wasn’t even a chore.

The faery perked up then. “Wait! I think I got it!”

Jason smiled at her. “Go ahead.”

She waved her hand and chanted a small phrase. A little raincloud appeared from her fingers and then a small thunderbolt struck, slamming into the ground. Jason jumped, eyes wide and the faery cried out in shock before waving her hands again, dispersing the cloud.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!” She cried out, looking tearier by the second.

Jason lightly presented a hand and she stepped onto his palm trustingly. “Hey, it’s okay, Princess. I’m fine. We can just try again. But may I give a suggestion?”

She nodded, looking miserably down at the black spot her thunderbolt had made on the grass.

“How about we make a fey contract? You get me out of here and I’ll do a favor for you. Would that be alright?”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. Jason resisted the urge to shiver at the sudden glint of greed in her eyes as she smiled, her wings fluttering as she nodded eagerly.

Oh no.

“Okay! Let’s make a deal, human!” She closed her book shut and slid it into the bag she kept by her side. Her smile grew into something sweet and dangerous, like poisoned honey. “Shall we form a contract right here, right now? Tell me, what’s your name, human?”

Oh fuck.

Just what had he gotten himself into?

[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖿 141 + 𝗏𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 ; 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ── .✦

── .✦ 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗉 ; "𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇."

It’s day three of bed rest, and Soap’s already climbed up the walls of his room and back down again. Injured or not, he’s never been one to sit still, and being restricted to the base with “no hard jobs, no missions”—as the medic had stressed—has left him itching for something to do. Restless, he decides to wander, eventually finding himself at the library-slash-records room, a quiet corner of base he’s never thought to visit before.

He thumbs through a book on the nearest shelf, flipping pages more out of boredom than actual interest, when a voice behind him makes him nearly jump out of his skin.

“Good choice,” you say casually, glancing over his shoulder at the book in his hands. “I read that one when I was a teenager.”

Soap whips around, wide-eyed and ready to defend himself before he registers you standing there, a bemused smile on your face. It’s not often anyone manages to sneak up on him, especially after working alongside Ghost—but here you are, quiet as a shadow.

“Christ, you gave me a fright!” He laughs, trying to shake off his surprise. “You a ghost yourself, or just a natural sneak?”

“Neither,” you reply with a shrug. “I just work here. Records department.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head with a hint of scepticism. “Records, aye? Right, sure. So… what squad d’you belong to, then?”

You laugh, not seeming to mind his incredulity. “No squad. No task force, either. Just a regular base staff member. I make sure all your physical files stay organised, is all.”

“Well, I didn't expect to find a hidden gem like you in here,” he says, putting on his usual flirty grin, expecting some kind of blush or maybe even a shy look.

But you just give another amused smile. “I’m not a gem, just the records keeper. I also stock the books,” you add, gesturing around. “Figured a small library might be good for those interested. We don’t have much, but it’s a nice change of pace for some people.”

The flirting sails right over your head, and Soap’s grin falters ever so slightly before he recovers. “Ah, so you're the one to thank for this wee slice of quiet paradise on base, huh?”

You nod, a touch of pride slipping through as you straighten a few already-tidy books. “It’s simple, but I like to keep things in order here for whoever wants to pick up something to read.”

Soap tries another grin, leaning against a shelf, his tone softening just a bit. “Well, reckon I’ll be a regular if it means more chats like this. Seems like a fair deal, yeah?”

But you only hum thoughtfully, eyes scanning the shelf beside him, clearly cataloguing if anything’s out of place. Soap finds himself smirking, both amused and oddly challenged by how thoroughly you’ve ignored his attempts to charm you. He realises with a quiet laugh that this just might be the break he needed.

. . .

In the quiet of his quarters, Soap lounges on his bunk with the phone pressed to his ear, listening to his mum and sister talk about his childhood. It had started with the usual check-in—hearing how he was healing, how things were on base—and soon drifted into familiar family banter.

His sister, Cait, laughs as she recalls his ‘miraculous’ ability to get hurt every other day growing up. “Remember when you broke both your arms jumping off that shed roof, John?” she teases, barely stifling her laughter. “Mum had to practically wrap you in bubble wrap.”

“Aye, aye, laugh it up,” Soap mutters, though he’s grinning. “Was tryin’ to perfect my landing, is all.”

His mum’s voice chimes in with a fond chuckle, “Perfect it you did, son. Broke both arms and had us all in stitches—not just ‘cause of the casts, but because you couldn’t stop fidgeting.”

“Oh, I remember,” he groans, recalling the itch of the casts and the boredom of sitting still for weeks. “I was goin’ mad with nothing to do!”

“That’s why I read to you,” his mum adds, the warmth in her voice audible even over the line. “You were always restless, even with two arms in casts.”

Soap’s grin turns a bit softer. “I remember that… just not the book itself. Somethin’ about a fox and a forest?”

His mum hums thoughtfully. “It was a sweet story, but I can’t recall the title. Do you, Cait?”

Cait only chuckles, clearly drawing a blank. “Oh, I remember the fuss he made, but the book? Not a chance.”

Soap shakes his head, feeling a little pang of nostalgia. “Wouldn’t mind findin’ it again someday. Reminds me of home.”

A few days later, Soap strides through the hallway, his arm still snug in a sling but his energy undeterred. He greets everyone he passes, effortlessly drawing smiles and laughter from a few soldiers standing by the vending machines. A corporal waves, and Soap flashes him a quick grin, offering a joking salute with his free hand. 

But today, he’s not here to soak up the attention. His steps have purpose, carrying him straight back to the quiet sanctuary of the records room. When he steps inside, the calm hits him like a breath of fresh air. His eyes land on you instantly, tucked in the back of the room, your head bent over something on the desk.

You’re focused, scribbling notes or reading from a thick stack of papers, and for a moment, Soap just watches. There’s something about the way the light catches on your face, the peaceful concentration you exude. He doesn’t even realise he’s smiling until his cheeks ache slightly. He adjusts his posture and clears his throat, strolling over casually, pretending not to notice the way his pulse picks up just a bit.

“Hey, there,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet like a soft ripple on a still pond. You glance up, blinking at the interruption, and he swears there’s a flicker of recognition in your gaze that makes his chest tighten.

“Back again?” you tease lightly, setting your pen down. “Getting into trouble already?”

“Nah, just takin’ it easy,” he says, his tone breezy. “Needed a break from bein’ so popular, y’know? The fans are relentless.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, though there’s a smile tugging at your lips.

He shifts slightly, leaning his good arm against the edge of the desk. “Actually, I was hopin’ you might be able to help me with somethin’. Feels a bit daft, but here goes.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling the weight of how silly this might sound. “There’s this book. From when I was a kid. My Ma read it to me when I broke both arms once—don’t ask,” he adds quickly, grinning sheepishly. “But I can’t remember the title. Just bits of it.”

That piques your interest. You sit up a little straighter, curiosity lighting up your features. “What do you remember about it?” you ask, your tone genuinely warm.

Soap exhales, relieved you haven’t laughed him off, and starts piecing it together. “Right, so it was about this fox. A scrappy wee thing, always gettin’ into trouble. Lived in a forest, sneakin’ around like it owned the place. There was… a badger, I think? Big, grumpy fella, always tellin’ the fox to stop bein’ reckless. But the fox didn’t listen—bit of a troublemaker, that one.”

You nod, your attention fixed on him, and it spurs him on. “One part I remember clear as day—there was a trap. The fox got its paw caught, and I thought it was done for. Had my heart in my throat. My Ma kept tellin’ me it’d be fine, but I was sweatin’ over it.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as if to brush off the emotion. “Then there was somethin’ about the forest gettin’ destroyed, so the fox had to leave. Find a new home, y’know?”

You lean forward slightly, completely drawn in, and it makes his pulse quicken. “That sounds… really sweet, actually. And a little sad.”

“Aye, it was,” he says, his voice softer now. “Hit me like a brick back then. Think I might’ve cried—don’t tell anyone that,” he adds quickly, wagging a finger with mock severity.

Your smile widens. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But… you’re describing it so vividly. I might know it. Hang on.” You tap your chin thoughtfully, sorting through your mental catalog of titles. Soap watches you closely, his expression softening as you mentally sift through the possibilities. After a moment, you shake your head, regret flashing in your eyes. “I think I know the book, but I don’t have it here. Sorry.”

Soap raises his brows, clearly impressed. “You’ve got a memory like a steel trap, lass. How d’you even keep track of all that?”

You wave him off modestly, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “It’s nothing, really. I just like books. Spend enough time with them, and you start remembering the little details.”

“Still,” you say, your tone tinged with determination. “I’ll keep an eye out. If it crosses my path, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

Soap’s grin widens, his eyes crinkling in that way that makes it hard to look away. “Aye, I’ll hold you to that.” His voice softens, and for a moment, there’s a quiet warmth between you that neither of you rush to fill.

“Thanks,” he says finally, the sincerity in his tone catching you slightly off guard. “You’re good company, y’know that?”

Before you can reply, he pushes off the desk with his good arm, the playful edge returning to his expression as he gives you a wink. “Don’t let me distract you too much, aye? I’ll see myself out.”

You manage a small laugh, watching as he makes his way toward the door, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in his wake. But just as he steps into the hallway, he pauses, glancing back through the open door.

For a brief second, his gaze softens, the memory of the fox, his Ma’s soothing voice, and the quiet comfort of your little nook weaving together to warm a part of him he hadn’t realised needed it. With a nod to himself, he turns away, the thought of returning already forming in the back of his mind.

. . .

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual hum of conversation and clatter of trays. Soap, now out of his sling and feeling like himself again, sat among Gaz, Ghost, and a few others from the base, his laughter loud and infectious as they swapped stories and teased one another. His attention was fully on Gaz’s exaggerated recounting of a drill mishap when Ghost’s gravelly voice cut through the din.

“Oi, Johnny. Little mouse headed this way.”

Soap blinked, confused, until Ghost gave a subtle nod toward the figure approaching from behind. Soap twisted around, and his breath hitched the moment he spotted you.

Springing to his feet far too quickly, Soap’s knee hit the table with a loud clang, trays rattling dangerously. The others shouted half-hearted complaints, but Soap didn’t care. All his attention was on you, standing there with a paper bag in hand, a shy smile gracing your lips.

“I—uh—hi,” Soap stammered, suddenly unsure of himself as you held the bag out toward him.

“I found it,” you said simply, your tone giddy. “Thought you might like to have it.”

He stared at the bag, then at you, before carefully taking it from your hands. His fingers brushed yours briefly, and he swore he felt a spark. Peeking inside, his jaw dropped. There it was—the book. The cover was pristine, like it had just been pulled from a bookstore shelf.

“You didn’t…” he began, but words failed him. His gaze flicked between the book and your face, awe written plainly across his features.

You chuckled softly, patting the hand that held the book. “It’s no big deal. Enjoy it, yeah?”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Soap frozen in place. He watched you go, only snapping out of his trance when Gaz whistled low under his breath. Soap turned back to the table, clutching the bag as if it held a treasure.

Seated back at the table, the book resting carefully in his lap, he barely touched his food, his usual chatter replaced by a soft, distracted smile. He flipped the book over in his hands, running his thumb along the edges of the paper bag, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Someone’s got a fan,” Gaz teased, grinning.

“Shut it,” Soap muttered, his cheeks flushing.

But the teasing didn’t stop there. One of the younger men at the table, a mechanic who had joined the base recently, leaned forward, asking him about you with a smirk edged with something he didn’t like, at all.

Soap’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching. Ghost, always the observer, grumbled lowly. “Leave it, lad,” he warned, his voice a quiet rumble. The mechanic wisely dropped the subject.

As the conversation shifted back to base gossip, Soap’s focus stayed on the book in his hands. He traced the edges of the paper bag absentmindedly, his mind replaying the moment you’d handed it to him and the warmth of your hand on his. His smile widened, soft and genuine, as he looked the book over again, the edges of the paper bag crinkling beneath his fingers.

Ghost glanced at Soap briefly, noting the faraway look in his eyes. With a barely audible snort, he shook his head and returned to his meal, leaving the smitten Scotsman to his thoughts.

. . .

Soap spent the better part of the next day scouring every corner of the base, peeking into offices, workshops, and even the records room during normal hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Each empty space only added to his frustration.

“Sneaky little mouse," he muttered under his breath with an undeniable smile, hands on his hips.

His gripping earned a chuckle from Gaz, who leaned back in his chair and exchanged a knowing look with Ghost. “Maybe you’re just not lookin’ in the right places, mate,” Gaz teased, popping a peanut into his mouth.

Ghost, however, offered a rare bit of practical advice. “Try the rec room. Late hours.” His tone was low, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sometimes I go there when I can’t sleep. Tea’s decent, and I watch matches on my phone. Could be she’s got the same idea.”

Soap perked up at the suggestion, nodding gratefully. “Aye, worth a shot. Thanks, mate!"

Later that evening, Soap made his way to the rec room. The base was quieter, the halls dimly lit, and the faint hum of a vending machine filled the otherwise empty space. As he approached the rec room, the soft clink of a kettle caught his attention. Peering in, he spotted you by the small kitchenette, the warm glow of the stove’s light illuminating your face as you poured hot water into a mug.

For a moment, he hesitated. His usual bravado faltered as he took in the calm scene, unsure how to approach without disturbing the peaceful air you carried with you. But then, squaring his shoulders, he stepped inside.

“Didn’t think I’d find you 'ere,” he said, his voice low but carrying a playful lilt.

You glanced over your shoulder, surprised but smiling softly when you saw him. “Evening, Sergeant. Tea, late-night stroll, or both?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Both, maybe. Been lookin’ for you, actually. You’ve got a knack for disappearin’, y’know.”

You turned back to the stove, shaking your head lightly as you reached for another mug. “You found me now, didn’t you? Want some tea?”

“Aye, thanks.” Soap approached, watching as you handed him the steaming mug. He cradled it, savoring the warmth in his hands. “Listen, about the book…”

You waved him off, cutting him off before he could continue. “It’s nothing, really. I should be the one thanking you. You’ve shown interest in the books and my little corner. It means a lot to have someone notice.”

Soap blinked, caught off guard by your words. Before you could turn back around to retrieve your own mug, he reached out, catching your hand. His fingers curled around yours gently, his thumb brushing the back of your knuckles.

The contact was warm, steady, and startlingly tender.

“No,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “It wasn’t nothin’. You went out of your way for me, and… it means more than I can say.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat when he lifted your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your fingers. His lips were warm, his expression earnest as he looked up at you, gratitude and something deeper shining in his eyes.

For once, you were the one left speechless, your heart skipping a beat as the weight of his sincerity settled over you. Soap released your hand gently, his fingers lingering for just a moment before pulling back.

“Thank you,” he said again, his voice a near whisper.

You swallowed, your cheeks feeling uncharacteristically warm. “You’re welcome, Sergeant,” you managed, offering him a soft smile.

“Stay a while?” he asked, nodding toward the small table tucked into the corner.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could overthink it, you nodded, moving to sit down. He followed, his mug cradled in his hands as he eased into the chair across from you. The quiet hum of the room settled over you both, broken only by the soft clink of his mug against the table as he set it down.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it felt warm, almost fragile, like something new and precious was taking root between you.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” he said, his tone low and easy.

“For what?” you asked, taking a sip of your tea.

“Doin’ things that catch a man off guard,” he replied, his blue eyes glinting with something playful yet sincere. “Like huntin’ down a book I barely remembered just to give me a piece of my past back.”

You waved him off modestly, though the compliment made your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. "It's...just a book."

“To you, maybe,” he countered, his voice soft. “To me, it’s somethin’ more. And so’s this.”

He gestured vaguely, encompassing the quiet space you now shared, the table between you feeling more like a bridge than a barrier.

You lowered your gaze to your mug, the steam curling upward as you processed his words. There was a warmth in his voice, an openness you hadn’t expected but found yourself leaning into.

When you finally looked up, Soap was watching you, his gaze steady and filled with something unspoken. You held his eyes, the corners of your lips curving into a smile that matched his.

“This is nice,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

“Aye,” he agreed, his voice low. “It is.”

And as the two of you sat there, sipping tea and sharing quiet smiles, the space between you seemed to shrink, the glow of the moment wrapping around you both like a promise of something more to come.

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[poguehearted77]

Just Another Cliché

Summary: Rafe has been asking to take you out for years and you always shoot him down, after a particularly bad day, you decide things can't get much worse.

<<Here's some fluffy angst for those who need it>>

Shitty was an understatement for the day you had. This day will go down in history as the worst day any soul has ever lived through.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." The murmur is bitter on your tongue as you stuff your hands deeper into your warm pockets. The breath of your words were visible in the crisp winter air as you were about to pass by Rafe Cameron who waited patiently outside of your apartment building with a single rose just like he always did.

Since your senior year of high school, every year on the fourteenth of February, he would wait outside your complex, asking you out, then you say no, then he goes home. That's the tradition.

Well, technically you never said no. You'd always make up some excuse. 'I don't have time for a relationship right now' or 'Now's a bad time' are just a few of the examples you've used over the last five years.

It's not that there was anything wrong with him. You actually did find him attractive. Aside from the sketchy reputation he had going for him back in high school, he was still a relatively nice guy.

You just didn't have the time for a relationship, or at least you didn't before.

A small smile forms on his face as he sees you, already knowing what to expect. Another excuse like "Fine," yup, just as he thought- Wait.

"Say that again?" His head shakes in disbelief, blue eyes bulging slightly. Your shoulders shrug under your heavy-duty winter jacket. "My car was towed, then I lost my job, so why not lose my dignity too? Let's go out." You say and his heart begins to bounce off the confines of his ribs.

Not sure if it was the frosty air nipping at his cheeks or his lifetime wish finally unwrapping before his eyes, his cheeks flushed and he blinked a few times. "You won't regret this, I promise." he holds out the rose for you to take, and you finally do. For the first time in five years. You bite back a scoff, not in the mood for empty promises.

"Why haven't you given up yet?" You ask and now he places his hands in his pockets as a chilling breeze sweeps past you. He's rocking back on his heels slightly, "Life's too short to give up." The tiny smile on his face does make you scoff this time but he moves past it, "I'll text you later," is the last thing he says before he walks off.

You look down at the rose, then at his shrinking figure as he heads for the distance. A little pep in his step and you shook your head, immediately regretting your decision.

Great, this is exactly what you needed, another cliché.

-

Just another cliché is exactly what it was. On the lowest day of your life, you finally gave Rafe a chance. Of course, he changes your life in ways you couldn't imagine and leaves you with a dead weight of regret for not giving in sooner.

Your first date wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was fun. The two of you were inexperienced skaters failing to skate in the middle of the town square during the heart of winter. With festive lights outlining the rink where you laughed every time one of you fell.

There was even a point in time when you'd both embraced the cold connection with the ice floor and had a deep conversation on the sidelines, watching the other skaters circle the rink.

"Why me?" The question slips out before you can catch it and he licks his lips. He anticipated the query would arise eventually. "You remember that party Hailey Vanderbilt threw back in senior year?"

You hum with a nod, that was a party you'll never forget. Pool toys ended up in the trees, broken windows, jello in the hot tub, fights in the front yard and gambling in the back. "You and a few of the girls were playing truth or dare and they had dared you to start a rumour that I'd shaved my head because my family had joined some cult or some shit."

It took you a second, but the memory came back to you. "You don't know this, but I was fucking wasted behind the couch, but I'll never forget the way you stood up for me to them and refused to do it, and I dunno, I jus' think that was really cool of you." His head turns to you, his gaze softening when he looks at you.

At that moment, you felt the butterflies flap around in your stomach for the first time. He clears his throat, expression becoming more sombre as he continues. "My mom," He starts, taking a difficult swallow to get the words out.

"She was really sick. I got caught up with the wrong crowd to deal with it. Doing anything people said would get me distracted, even for a little, but she got worse and me being high every day didn't help so I quit. Her chemo was taking everything from her and eventually, she just shaved it off, she hated looking in the mirror and it killed me."

Your chest tightened at the story, having a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, "So when you shaved your head..." You trail off and Rafe nods along, turning away from you as a stray tear falls. "It was for her. You sticking up for me meant so much more than you know."

So there you both sat, on the ice with your backs against the wall in silence while the faint Christmas music chimed in the background. The date had taken a sad turn but you're glad it did, it sparked the beginning of your forever-evolving bond.

That was only the first date of many. Dozens and dozens of dates had flown past you and with each one you hated yourself a little more for letting him stand outside of your complex for five years rather than invite him inside.

"This is a nice place." He compliments as he takes a look around before settling himself on the couch with you beside him. "Thanks, it used to be a lot nicer when I could afford it. Had to sell some stuff to keep it after I lost my job."

He chuckles, "That explains why we're facing a blank wall and no television." and you pinch him. "Sacrifices had to be made. Who needs a TV anyways when there's so many other things we could do to keep ourselves busy." Your wandering hand gently runs down his firm thigh and you can feel the muscles in his leg tighten.

This was unchartered territory for you. You'd been dating for almost three months now and have never been intimate in that way, but Rafe knew the kind of person you were. A perfectionist, you need to be sure of everything before you try it.

Based on how fervently you were currently kissing along the length of his neck he could assume he had a pretty good idea of where your head was at. "Baby, baby--" He struggles to keep you at bay so he can lock eyes with you. "Are you sure about this? We don't have-" You silence him with the passionate attack of your lips against his.

Nearly tackling him onto his back, your hips straddling his as you demonstrated your certainty to him.

-

The months went on and sleepovers became more frequent. Even when Rafe had that tired look in his eye which was more often these days, you kept him up with your bright eyes and wide smile as you explained to him the newest conspiracy that intrigued you.

He tried his best to listen to what you were saying but he'd often lose himself in the labyrinth of his own mind. You were just so cute when you were talking about what you were passionate about. Especially when you wore the glasses you cursed so much, opting for contacts during the day.

"Why don't you wear your glasses more often?" He asks and you frown, "Rafee, did you hear anything I just said?" He nods, "Of course I did. I heard every last word.... up until about five minutes ago." You whine and he hugs you tight as an apology, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

You couldn't stay mad at him. That was proven time and time again when even your biggest fights would be resolved within 24 hours. Rafe insisted on talking things out, no matter how hurt the both of you may feel. He never wanted to go to sleep without making things right. "Life's too short," He would say.

You both had your shortcomings, but that goes without saying. Rafe was short-tempered and you were stubborn, a bad combination for an opinionated conversation. Things can quickly spiral out of control but when it came to apologies, Rafe outdid you every time. Flowers, or a small gift to show his feelings.

Even now, as Rafe leant against your kitchen island as you transferred the flowers he'd gifted you 'just because'. A weak smile graced his lips as he noted the way you did everything with such intensity, putting your all into everything you did.

Leaning forward onto his crossed forearms he watches you. "You're staring, babe." You say and he can only hum. "Can't help it. I like what I see," His words elicit a soft warmth to radiate in your chest.

"I love you, y'know that?" You're startled as you feel his arms wrapping around your waist from behind. "You tell me only every day, Rafe." He comes down to peck your cheek before you're rotating in his hold to face him. "But I love you too." You're unable to contain your smile as you say it.

It wasn't the first time but every time the words left your mouth, it gave you a little bubbly feeling. Security blossomed within you anytime your eyes grazed over his features.

"Let's go out tonight, yeah? Let's go dancing." Rafe declares without thinking and you laugh, tilting your head to look at the time over the stove. "It's almost midnight, nothing's open at this hour." You reason, but he doesn't back down.

Holding you by the hand, he twirls you. "Not a problem, we'll just do it here." That night your apartment was filled with laughter and soft jazz. Rafe hardly ever had this much energy so late but you loved it.

Two days after that night of dancing, you woke up to an eerie silence that felt too heavy for the morning. You went about your routine, still buoyed by the memory of Rafe's laughter filling your apartment. You checked your phone—just the usual notifications, a missed call from an unknown number, and a message from Sarah that simply said, "Call me."

You barely had time to press dial before she picked up, her voice trembling. She tried to speak, but only the sound of soft, choked sobs came through. Finally, she managed, "I’m so sorry…"

The words hit you, but you didn’t understand them. You wanted her to stop, to say something else—anything else. She kept speaking, her words blurred and distant, as though you were underwater, drowning. Somewhere in her explanation, you heard the words, "peacefully… in his sleep." But it didn’t feel peaceful. Your mind raced, demanding answers. Why hadn’t he told you? How long had he known?

Over the days that followed, Rafe's family gently filled in the pieces: he’d been sick for years, silently enduring, doing everything he could to hide it. Every date, every moment spent laughing with you, was a deliberate choice he made to live his last days fully, in love and joy, with you.

He hadn’t wanted you to know because he couldn't bear to see you suffer for him the same way he was once familiar with in his senior year. Even in the end, he kept the truth locked away, shielding you from the loss he knew was coming.

The weight of his choice tore you apart. You wanted to be angry, to hate him for leaving you out, but in his silence, there was also a strange kind of love. A love that had given you a few precious, unburdened moments together. Still, the pain settled deep within you, refusing to ease.

The anger, hurt, and ache became constant companions in the days that followed. But in his absence, you began to understand just how much he’d given for you.

He'd shared with you how hard it was for him to deal with that eerie state of loss. The stage where the person isn't gone but you know you'll lose them. It alters you in a messed up kind of way and he wanted you as far from that reality as possible. He was protecting you from his own condition till the very end.

Helping his family to clear out his apartment was easily the hardest thing you'd ever done. You couldn't do it without tearing up with every belonging of his you touched.

His favourite hoodie that he never let you wear but loved when you did. The polaroids in his drawer that you took from your first date, taken from the floor of the ice rink.

You noticed he'd scribbled writing on the back of the photo.

She finally said yes.

That was all it took. The last bits of your composure were stolen from you and you wept on his bedroom floor. Everyone always told you it would get easier but it never did. How could things get easier when the other half of your heart was buried six feet below the ground?

You learned to live with the loss, forcing a smile when in the company of others and taking deep breaths every morning when you woke up. Mildly disappointed the realm beyond the living hadn't reaped you during your slumber.

Very slowly, you begin to adjust to this new reality. It’s not the life you imagined, but you learn to live with the loss, carrying him with you in the smallest, most tender ways. His favourite hoodie becomes your comfort on cold nights, wrapping you in his memory and his scent.

Just because he was gone doesn't mean you'd end all of your traditions. Each year on the fourteenth of February, you visit his grave, placing a single red rose on the stone as a quiet tribute.

Though the ache remains, you hold his spirit close, carrying him forward into every milestone and memory yet to come, honouring the love you shared while finding the strength to continue onward.

In some ways, your love story turned out to be just another cliché—until it ripped your heart out from your chest, leaving you with the unbearable ache of everything he left unsaid, every unfulfilled promise, and the haunting silence of a future that will always belong to him.

Somehow, even in the quietest, most heart-wrenching moments, you never gave up on finding the silver lining, because life’s too short.

[menacingpolkamusic]

It's social justice telephone. "Trans men don't have all the privileges of cis men" -> "all men are oppressed for being men." "If you refuse to acknowledge that patriarchy also hurts men, the most vulnerable of them are going to go somewhere that actually listens to their problems and violent misogynists are going to give them the wrong solution" -> "if you were a little nicer to that catcaller he would change."

Because people hear "men" and the first thing that pops into their head is "my abuser." Most of us (there's always gonna be assholes in the conversation) are not talking about their abuser. We're talking about vulnerable men who have legitimate issues with patriarchy. There's a reason people are passing around bell hooks.

We're talking about men who truly want to be allies but are intimidated by women's valid frustrations, such as this man on the Chewed Gum show talking about his feelings on the man/bear question. Alyssa Ljub had a great response at 34:30 (abridged version):

[...] My brother [...] struggled a lot with being a very like sensitive, emotional kind of guy and that manifested as being angry and defensive when he was a teenager and through his more younger adult years, now he's 32 and a full adult and he's really understanding that what he's wanting to express is a more full range of emotions, but he didn't feel comfortable doing that because he was falling into that same mental pattern of that's not manly, men don't cry [...]

In the process of writing the TED Talk, I had given it to my brother to read and he went over it and [...] he encouraged me to look at it again and every time I referred to these like really atrocious things that had happened to women throughout time [...] he encouraged me to look at it and really consider [...] is "man" the word that I want to use, is it because men did this or is it the patriarchy, is it this system that we've created.

And at the end of the day, he was right because we all are victims of this same mentality, like this patriarchal mind space is the reason why [...] you are not super comfortable expressing a full range of emotions or it took you a long time to get there, similarly with my brother and similarly with how we all [choose the] bear and then we have a hard time understanding how men can't see it.

It's all the same system, it's the same machine and so there's a part of me that's always sort of like, it feels good to join in other voices that are able to say "bear and fuck the men who don't understand and that's not my job to teach them" and blah, blah, blah, like there's part of it that will always feel like turning the knife and it feels good for that moment but that's not actually a productive conversation and [...] that's not helping anybody.

And so the other part of it is, okay, [...] we're in this dialogue and [...] oh my gosh, men don't actually see it, they don't really understand why we feel that way and if they can't really understand it and they're in the same system that we are, it kind of is our responsibility to explain because if we don't, we're leaving them to their own devices to figure it out and when they're left to their own devices, they're at the hands of the same system that's telling them to shut down their emotions, be defensive and ignore what we're describing as physical risk that we feel with with strange men and that's not helpful, that's not helping anybody grow.

And so it's frustrating to some women, [...] "I shouldn't have to explain that" and I 100% get that, that's so valid but I think in this conversation, when we talk about how we move forward from how we have pushed men into being a specific type of person that is fitting into [...] this prototype [of] being really tough and minimizing emotions and unable to be vulnerable so that they can appear strong, when we've put men into that space, what pulls them out of it is vulnerability and softness and care and saying it's actually okay for you to want to be emotional in this time and it's actually completely okay that you're hearing this argument where people are saying bear over and over and you're like, "what the hell, I worked so hard to be the kind of man that people would be comfortable around and [...] I worked so hard to undo everything that I was inundated with as a child, like, and you still said bear?"

[...] I would encourage anybody who's listening who has that reaction of like, "I don't want to have to explain it to people. And if they don't get it, that's on them." I would encourage them to also consider how productive that conversation is. And if you, in that very moment, wanted to be productive. Sometimes we're like, "this is not worth it, I don't feel like having this conversation," whatever, that's fine [...]

I feel like that's the biggest thing that is inhibited for so many men in this system. They're not given the permission to feel everything that they want to feel and have a safe space where there might be an adult or a therapist, whatever, whoever is around them to say, "it's okay that you feel that way. And at the same time, the reason why women are saying bear is because even though you're a safe space, the information that we have, the statistics that we have about how many men are not is enough to make me say bear."

But I think at least in the way that I've experienced this conversation, especially with someone close to me, like my brother, where I've grown up with him obviously, and I've known him my whole life and seeing what made the biggest difference for him was allowing him to feel vulnerable and feel the full range of his emotions and actually process them through. Like actually see [...] "these are all the things I'm feeling and this is how we're gonna resolve it. And now I've learned something because I've actually resolved this feeling."

Notice how the person in question is her brother. It's not the catcaller who's feelings she's trying to look out for, it's someone she wants a relationship with. She could have written him off as just another angry cis man when he was a teenager, but she didn't. And now he understands a little of women's perspective and will hopefully try to reach men who wouldn't listen to women.

She recommends bell hooks as well.

Nooo mutual don’t put that “men fall down the alt-right pipeline bc women/feminists are too mean” post on my dash nooo mutual don’t try to say women need to be nicer when dealing with misogynistic men nooo mutual nooo