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lustfulslxt · 9 months ago

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What Are You Doing Step Bro? - Chris Sturniolo

summary : you go on a small trip with your new “family”. you and chris, your stepbrother, test the waters and give into your deepest desires.

warnings : step siblings kink, breeding kink, swearing. think that's it, but probably not. NSFW

a/n : i do not want to hear a single thing about how they're related, it's incest, it's gross, it's weird -- whatever the fuck. there are absolutely no blood relations! if you're not into this kinda thing, simply shut up and keep scrolling while the rest of us get our rocks off :)))))))

His wavy brown hair falls perfectly over his face as he packs his duffel bag. The moonlight illuminates his prominent cheekbones. His long eyelashes brush over his cheeks every time his eyes flutter, the cool light making his bright blue irises damn near glow. His sharp jaw clenches every time his mind runs back to this dreaded 'family' trip. His muscly arms flex with every movement he makes. Every so often, his tongue flicks over his pretty, pink lips. Oh, those lips, how badly I want to feel them dance across my skin. I shouldn't be thinking these kinds of things, but I can't help it. The way he carries himself, so confident and sexy.

It's been a year since our families moved in together. Him, his father, my mother, and me. Our parents got married out of the blue. Honestly, I hadn't even seen much of his father before they announced their engagement, so, it was a surprise they had sprung on us. Then, abruptly uprooting us from our own lives just to come together as a supposed family. We're not family.

His father tries too hard, and Chris is just a douchebag. We bicker so much, yet I can't help but feel extremely attracted to him. There's no doubt in my mind, if he wasn't my stepbrother, I would have been pounced. When we're arguing about who's turn it is for the bathroom, sometimes, I imagine locking us in there and jumping his bones. I know I'm not imagining things, there's an extreme tension between us. However, there's nothing I can do about it.

"Have you even started packing?" His deep voice snaps me from my spiraling thoughts.

I scoff, "Of course, I'm not an idiot. I don't wait until the last minute to do things, like you."

He shakes his head, a smirk pulling to his luscious lips. "I make it work, sweetheart. Just cause you like to be the obedient good little girl."

I turn my head away from him to hide the flush in my cheeks, "Don't call me that."

"Which one?" His smirk grows, "Sweetheart? Or good little girl?"

"Don't call me either of them!" I snap, fulling turning my body to the opposite side of the room.

I can feel my skin burning with desire. I mentally curse myself at my bodily reactions to his simple, yet teasing words. He knows what he's doing, and it's driving me mad. I huff a little before walking off in the direction of my bedroom, his faint chuckling being heard before I close my door.

I jump onto my bed, my limbs sprawling out, and look up at the ceiling. My lips curve upwards, a shit eating grin planting itself on my face. God, I hate him. More so, I hate that I don’t hate him. I hate that I want him as bad as I do. It’s not right.

I spend the rest of the night lying in bed, scrolling through various social medias to keep my mind off of the boy in the room right next to mine. It only seems to work half of the time, my stupid brain continuously wanders back to him. Ugh, why would my mother do this to me? She knows how much I lack self control.

—

The next morning, I spend the first couple of hours getting last minute things ready for our trip. Maybe I lied to Chris last night, saying I had already packed. He doesn’t need to know.

I just got out of the shower and into my room, still wrapped in a towel. I sit on my bed, letting myself cool off and air dry a little bit. After a few minutes of doing nothing, I stand up to dry my hair, only realizing my blow dryer is in the bathroom. I groan and make my way back out into the hall, but when I get to the bathroom door, I realize the shower is running. Of course he’d be in there when I need to grab stuff. After a split second of pondering, I decide to just quickly grab my blow dryer and my brush.

Upon opening the door, steam flows out of the bright room, and I can feel the humidity in there. I scurry to the counter, quickly grabbing my things, when I pause. My eyes staring into the mirror, solely focused on the scene behind me. Our shower door is clear, and though it’s foggy, I can still see right through it.

There, Chris is, in all his glory. His body glistens, water steadily pouring down over him. His hair is stuck to his forehead, his head tilted down while he lets the water run over him. His lean body curving in all the right places. My eyes involuntarily follow his figure down, locking right below his waist. My mouth waters at the sight. His dick hangs down, the same color as his lips, definitely above average. Even from far away, I can see the veins running along side it. My mouth slightly parts at the sight.

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me all day, or you gonna get in?” He asks, his head still facing the floor.

I gasp, slightly embarrassed that he caught me staring at him. “Don’t be weird!”

“Says the one looking at me like she wants to take a bite.” He chuckles, finally turning his head in my direction.

My face catches fire, the rosy shade deepening the longer we make eye contact. I force myself to look away, quickly grabbing my things and running out of there. How humiliating.

Shutting myself in my room, I pause and let out a deep breath. Before I can help it, another grin makes its way to my face. Wow, he’s hung. I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of certain thoughts. Why am I like this?

I set my stuff on my desk, plugging the blow dryer in to get to work. Making sure my towel is securely wrapped around my chest, I start to dry my hair, brushing through it as I go. My hair is super thick, so it usually takes a good minute to fully dry and get it how I like it.

The loud machine blasts in my ears, so loud that I hadn’t notice the presence in my room. The feeling of warm fingertips brushing the back of my thigh, right below my towel, causes me to jump and shriek in fear, my towel falling in the process. I quickly turn around to be met with Chris and his infamous smirk. I hurriedly bend down, yanking my towel back up to cover myself, but it’s too late. He already saw everything, and it’s evident on his features.

“What are you doing?” I squeal.

“What?” He asks, feigning innocence. “You can look at me, but I can’t look at you? That’s not fair, is it?”

“Chris.” I say, swallowing my nerves. “What do you want?”

He grins, flashing his pearly white teeth. “I’m not too sure I’m allowed to answer that. But I won’t tell if you won’t.”

I open my mouth to say something, yet fall short of words. I can’t speak, I can’t even think. He licks his lips and steps closer to me, his hand now brushing against the front of my thigh, just below the towel. My breath hitches in my throat, my skin tingling underneath his touch. He flattens his whole palm against my thigh, leaning in even closer to me.

“Chris!” His dad’s voice calls out from somewhere on the farther side of the house.

He tsks, his lips brushing against my ear, “I guess you’ll have to find out another time, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he walks off, leaving me standing there with a slack jaw as I stare into the distance. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want him. He’s actually going to be the death of me. He makes it so easy to want to be bad.

I swallow, attempting to lubricate my now dry throat, and get back to getting ready. The entire time, Chris and the way his skin felt on mine never leaving my thoughts. In fact, I spent the remainder of my morning fantasizing about what it would be like to have him. All of him. Safe to say, I had to change my panties before leaving my room.

—

It's been a couple of hours since my little run in with Chris. For the most part, I've managed to keep myself occupied to keep him off of my mind. Yet, every now and then, I can feel my thoughts slipping into a steamy abyss filled with erotic fantasies involving my stepbrother. We're all getting ready to leave, taking trips out to the car, filling it with all of our bags and whatnot.

"The resort just called." My mother announces as we all gather at the front door. "Our room is ready for us."

"Splendid! Let's get this show on the road!" Chris' dad cheers, running off to the car with my mom.

Chris and I watch them before looking at each other. A sly smirk pulls to his lips, yet again, and he nods ahead of him. "After you, sweetheart."

I roll my eyes at the nickname and walk towards the backseat of the car. Whistling rings through the air, causing me to snap my head back. Chris is standing in the same spot, looking me up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Pervert." I mumble, lifting myself onto the seat and start crawling over towards the opposite side of the car.

Before I can even get to my seat, I leap forward with a yelp emitting from my mouth. My head shoots back, my eyes locking with Chris'. He's got that same devilish grin on his face that makes me want to drop my panties.

"What's wrong?" My mom asks from the front seat.

"He-" I start, only to be cut off by Chris.

"She hit her knee on the door."

I glare at him as he climbs in next to me. He shoots me a wink, which I only huff at. I lean over and pinch his arm, causing him to yank it away from me.

"What was that for?" He questions.

"You pinched my ass!" I whisper shout, appalled by his behavior, yet at the same time, turned on.

"Don't act like you didn't like it." He whispers back, his tongue running over his teeth.

I simply shut up, unable to disagree because he's right. I did like it. In fact, I loved it. I roll my eyes once more, annoyance flooding my veins. Not annoyed at him, more so at myself for being so affected by him. It's not right. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, hoping sleep overcomes me.

I don't know how long it's been before my eyes flutter open, the sound of faint music waking me. My eyes squint, adjusting to the streetlamps that shine as we pass by them. I'm suddenly very aware of a warmth to my right. Looking over, I see Chris sat next to me rather than the opposite window like he was before.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice coming out in a low tone.

He looks over at me with furrowed eyebrows, "Minding my business. You should try it sometime, baby."

"Don't be a dick. I just woke up and you're basically sitting on top of me." I scoff, spreading my legs to push his away from me and give myself more room.

That might not have been a good idea. Chris' eyes trail down my body, boring into my parted thighs. I can practically see the gears turning in his head. He, yet again, smirks at me, licking his lips.

He leans into my ear, his warm breath fanning my ear, his voice husky. "Admit it, sweetheart. You'd love it if I was on top of you."

His hand brushes the top of my thigh, his fingertips lightly grazing my bare skin. I have to bite my lip to hold back the breathy moan that threatens to escape due to his words and his touch. When I don't say anything, his hand presses more firmly into me. Very slowly, his hand trails higher and higher, applying the same amount of pressure the whole way up. Today would be the day that I chose to wear a skirt.

My eyes are wide as I watch his hand, my lips slightly parting. I can feel the heat rushing to my face, as well as my core. I feel like I'm on fire. I quickly look at him and notice his gaze hasn't wavered from my face, his brain soaking in my reaction to his movements, trying to burn the image in his mind, so he never forgets it.

A shaky breath leaves my mouth as his hand slides under my skirt, disappearing to do God knows what. I'm stuck in place, not daring to move. I want to see how far he's going to take this; I don't want him to stop. I let out a small gasp as his fingers make contact with my clothed pussy. But just as quick as they're there, a voice moves through the air, and they're gone.

"Are you guys hungry?" His dad asks us, completely oblivious to what his son was doing.

Chris looks at me, awaiting an answer. I gulp, shaking my head, "N-no."

A small chuckle leaves Chris' mouth, his lips brushing against my ear. "I can feel how wet you are. Makes me want to bend you over the console and devour you."

"Oh my God." I mutter, my ears growing hot as I squeeze my legs shut and turn as much as I can to the door.

There's no way I can make it through this trip, absolutely no way. If he keeps this up, I'm going to lose it. I don't even know what he's trying to get out of this. Is he trying to humiliate me? Does he actually want to fuck? I groan, tossing my head back. I'm so screwed.

After what felt like the longest car ride of my life, we finally get to our destination. Our parents wanted to stop a get something to eat, so it took even longer to get to the hotel. We make our way inside, bags on top of bags in our hands. After we get checked in, my mom hands me a room key.

"You guys can head up, me and Jerry are going to make a quick pitstop." She informs Chris and me.

I look at her with an 'are you serious?' look, before my eyes subconsciously advert to Chris. He smiles at her and nods, letting them walk off to wherever. I keep my mouth shut and head to the elevators, him following my tail.

We get to the elevator and only have to wait a moment before the doors open. Walking inside, I glance at the room key to confirm the floor level. Without a word, I press the number '6', the doors shutting almost instantly.

"You know-" Chris begins, a slight curve on his lips. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but I can see it all over you. You want me as bad as I want you."

I harshly swallow, looking for the right words to say. Again, I'm left stuck stupid. How does he do this? The simplest statements leave me dazed and practically malfunctioning. He slowly walks over to me, backing me into the wall. I stare up at him, anticipating his every move. His body is pressed firmly against mine, causing me to shiver. His face is millimeters from mine. He lifts his free hand, wrapping it around my neck. My breath catches in my throat, my core throbbing at the small yet extreme gesture.

His fingertips slowly trail upwards, grazing over my chin. His thumb rubs across my lips, putting pressure on my bottom one and gently pulling it down. My lips are parted for just a moment before my bottom lips bounces back after he removes his finger. His hand grasps my jaw, his face inching closer and closer to mine.

"I'm going to destroy you." He whispers against my lips.

Before anything else can take place, the elevator dings and the doors open, snapping me from the trance he always seems to put me in. I quickly compose myself and scurry out of there, following the signs on the walls to get to our room. Once I get there, I swipe the card, running in the second the light clicks green. Chris has to catch the door with his foot, because I was not waiting for him.

Getting in, I take my time to admire the place. Everything looks so elegant and luxury. Since our parents are off doing whatever, I take the liberty to choose my bedroom for the week. The first one I walk into is amazing, and I'm satisfied with it. Tossing my bags at the foot of the bed, I lay back on it, stretching my limbs out. My short-lived peace disturbed when Chris comes strolling in with his bags.

"I already got dibs on this room." I say, pushing myself up on my elbows.

He snickers, "Jokes on you, we're roomies now."

"Excuse me?" I gape at him, "Yeah, no."

"Actually, we are. This is a two-bedroom suite."

"Are you serious right now?" I frown.

He hums, "Mhm. As serious as I was about what I said in the elevator."

My face grows hot, and I have to purse my lips to prevent them from curving up into a smile. I'm actually terrible, because why do I love this?

"We're here!" My mom's voice sounds from the living room of the suite.

I let out a breath, slightly relieved, yet slightly disappointed. I'm so conflicted. I can't help but want all the time in the world with Chris, but also never want to be alone with him. I can feel myself losing control, ready to give into the strong temptation. He's not making it easy either.

"I see you guys picked your room." Jerry grins, peeking his head in with a smile.

"As in we have to share?" I question.

"Yeah. I thought your mom told you."

I don't miss Chris' smirk as he listens to us, clearly enjoying the idea of sharing a room. I don't understand why my mother hates me. How could she sign me up for this without even talking to me about it?

"We're all family now, it's no big deal." I hear her chime in as she rounds the corner.

"Yeah, right." I mutter, my face falling at the simple statement.

It's just a slap in the face, a reminder that Chris and I can never be. Regardless of whatever type of relation, it just can't happen. I'll never see them as family, but my mother clearly does. Maybe it's best not to tempt anything.

"I call the right side." Chris smiles at me, our parents now long gone.

"Nice try. You're getting the floor or the couch." I roll my eyes.

He laughs, "Good one, sweetheart. Admit it, you can't wait to share a bed with me."

I only glare at him, a slight pout on my face.

"Cheer up, baby. Just wait until you see I sleep naked." He mutters in my ear, before leaving.

"Fuck me." I whisper to myself, already knowing I'm in for it tonight.

After unpacking my things, I head out into the living room. My mother and Jerry are sitting on the sofa, so I take the loveseat. I sit sideways, kicking my legs up across the rest of it. I cross my arms, relaxing, sinking into the plush cushions. Looking around, I notice the both of them are dressed up. Did we have plans that I'm not aware of?

"Are we going somewhere?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Oh, no." Jerry shakes his head, "I'm taking your mom out tonight. You and Chris will have the place to yourselves."

Just as he says that Chris strolls around the loveseat. He lifts my feet and sits down, placing them on his lap. I go to pull back, but his grip on me is firm. Without a word, his hands are kneading the soft tissue of my feet. I look up at him, my eyes almost submissive, cause why is he being like this?

"When are you guys leaving?" Chris asks them.

"Our reservation is at 8."

I glance at the time on my phone, "It's 7:15 now."

They both gasp in unison, instantly getting up to rush out the door.

"You're leaving?!" I shriek, now realizing I'll be left alone with the devil himself.

"Yes, honey. You'll be fine." My mom pats my arm. "You'll have Chris to keep you company. Help yourselves to whatever."

"Make sure you take care of her." Jerry points a finger at his son.

Chris smirks, eyes locking with mine. "You know I will."

I gulp, my eyes watching them leave as they call out quick 'I love you's'. The sound of the door clicking shut practically rattles my brain, my breathing slightly labored. I feel so nervous, already knowing it's going to be a long night.

"Want to watch a movie?" Chris asks me.

My eyes widen in surprise, that's probably the most normal thing he's said to me all day. He's been super flirty and seductive, and it's working so bad. I've never been so conflicted in my life. I know it's not right, and if anyone were to see what's happening, we'd certainly be locked away, but I can't help it. I'm yearning for him. His sultry words and lustful touches leave me throbbing every single time. I feel like I'm going to explode in his presence.

"I'll take that as a yes." He says, before teasing, "Unless you had something else in mind."

I groan, "Just put something on. I need a water."

I get up and saunter to the kitchen, my insides burning at the thought of what can occur tonight. I feel like it's inevitable. At this rate, if he keeps going, I'm folding like origami. I open the fridge and grab two waters out, immediately opening one and downing half of it. I have to practically mentally prepare myself just to go back in there. Once I do, I notice Chris now sitting in the middle of the loveseat. I choose not to say anything this time and simply sit beside him.

He already has a movie started, so we sit in silence as it plays out in front of us. The entire time, my mind is elsewhere. I can't focus on the movie at all. I keep crossing and uncrossing my legs, feeling uncomfortable. I can't get Chris' words out of my head.

I'm going to destroy you.

Oh, how badly I wish for that right now. His hands caressing every inch of my body. His mouth tasting every bit of skin. His body flush against mine. His dick stretching me in all the right ways, drilling into my sweet spot over and over and over. I have to clench my thighs, the inner turmoil growing. I feel like the air around us is thick, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tension running high between us. Surprisingly, we make it through the movie without any slick remarks or unwarranted touches. Part of me is bummed, yet I force the disappointment down, knowing it's for the best.

"Are you hungry?" Chris asks as we both get up from the sofa.

I shake my head, knowing I won't be able to eat with my current state. "No. I think I'm just gonna shower and hit the sheets."

He nods, "Okay."

I walk into our room, grabbing a towel and heading to the conjoined bathroom. I just need a quick shower to soothe me. The sexual frustration built up in me is almost unbearable, I feel feral. After turning the water on and letting it heat up, I strip from my clothes and get in. I stand underneath the showerhead, the hot water trickling down my skin. I stay there, eyes closed, trying to force the craving for Chris away. After a moment, I quickly wash up, then get out.

The bathroom is foggy, steam wafting through the air. The mirror is covered in condensation, I'm unable to see myself. I dry off, wrapping the towel around my body and heading out into the room. I pause in my steps, seeing Chris sprawled out on the bed.

"Sorry. Didn't think you'd be in here." I mutter, suddenly self-conscious being in just a towel.

"All good, sweetheart." He replies, his eyes scanning over me. "Come join me."

I swallow, "I have to get dressed."

"Come here." He repeats, his eyes dark with what I can only assume is lust.

I stand still, staring at him. I'm actually contemplating crawling into bed with my stepbrother, naked. There's no way I'm doing this. I keep cursing myself in my head as my feet bring me to the side of the bed that he's lying on. I stand there, looking down at him while he stares up at me. His hand comes out, his fingertips brushing against the hem of the towel, just like before. My heart is beating out of my chest right now, I wouldn't be surprised if it just exploded.

I'm taken by surprise when he swiftly grabs ahold of my wait, pulling me onto his lap. My thighs straddle his, my hands nervously keeping hold of my towel in attempt to keep it secure. However, my efforts prove futile when his hands grab the top of it, slowly unraveling it and letting it fall from my torso. I feel dizzy, my entire chest exposed to him. My stomach tightens, my veins flooded with anticipation.

"You're so pretty." He whispers, his fingers running over my abdomen.

"Thank you." I whisper back, my desire for him taking over me completely.

I can't think of anything else except for this moment right now, and what's bound to take place. His hands run up my arms and I can feel the goosebumps littering my skin. My breathing is erratic, I can't focus.

"Do I make you nervous?" He asks, his head tilted slightly.

I shake my head, unable to form words.

"Are you lying to me?"

My mouth has run dry. I can't even speak. My mind is hazy with lust. I want him so bad. I can feel the wetness pooling in between my legs, my core aching for his touch. He licks his lips as his eyes rake over my body. His hands run over my shoulders and down my chest, inevitably taking hold of my breasts. I can't help the whimper that falls from my lips. Finally. He grips the plush skin, squeezing gently yet firm. He moves them in circular motions, his palms applying just the right pressure to my sensitive buds.

"So perfect." He mumbles, his voice raspy.

My head lolls to the side, indulging in the feeling of his hands on me. My eyes flutter closed as he continues to knead them. A gasp slips from me when I feel his warm, wet mouth wrap around one of my nipples. My back involuntarily arches into him, his face full of chest. His touch becomes hungrier, his mouth now harshly sucking while his fingers work the opposite tit. Soft moans escape my mouth, my pussy throbbing for him.

He pulls away from my chest, his hands gliding up my back. I can feel his bulge beneath me, and I have to fight the urge to grind against it. He suddenly pulls me down, an abrupt moan emitting from my throat as the quick movement causes his dick to rub against my clit. His hand grabs ahold of my jaw, pulling my face into his.

He stares at my face, his eyes trying to read my emotions. "Say you want this."

I nod.

"Say it."

"I want this." I reply, my voice quiet yet sure.

With that, his lips smash into mine. Our mouths move together, hungry and feverish. Our tongues fighting for dominance, taking turns exploring one another's mouths. Our heads turn every which way, allowing more access. Our teeth clash together, saliva practically dripping out of our mouths. My hands run through his hair while his run along my body, pulling me impossibly closer.

Without one swift motion, I'm lying on my back with Chris towering over me. My towel is now completely removed, lying next to us on the bed. His hand turns my head to the side, his mouth now working on my neck. His tongue licking over the skin, teeth biting down, sucking every part. My breathing is quick, my body tingling with a burning sensation, desperate for more.

"Chris." I breathe out in a whine.

He hums, "Mm, I knew you couldn't resist me."

"Please." I whine again.

"Begging me like such a good girl, just like I said." He smirks against my skin, moving down my chest.

My hands grip at the back of his shirt, tugging at it, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He gets the hint and sits up, removing it with ease. His hands move down to his sweats, yanking the drawstring loose. In one quick movement, he's left in his boxers. I can see his dick fighting against his boxers, begging to be released. I can't help but reach out and palm him through the cloth.

He tosses his head back with a low moan, "Fuck."

His hand reaches forward, spreading my legs open for him. My pussy on show, leaking with arousal. He's practically drooling at the sight before him. His fingers trail up my thigh in an agonizingly slow pace, leaving my hips thrusting up for just the slightest touch.

"So needy." He smirks, "Such a naughty girl."

Finally, his fingers make contact with my aching clit, eliciting a long moan from me. He rubs it in slow circles, making my body tremble with every movement. He stops for a brief moment as he plunges a finger into my entrance, my body jolting from the sudden sensation.

"So, fucking wet." He groans in contentment.

His finger continues pumping in and out me with his thumb rubbing my clit, and I can't help but grind into his hand. It feels so good, but I want more. To my dissatisfaction, he pulls away, leaving me to cry out at the loss of pleasure. I watch as he pulls his boxers off, tossing them with his sweatpants. His fully erect dick flies up, slapping his stomach. His tip is an angry red, needy for stimulation. I saw it in the shower, but now, up close and personal, I am clenching, ready to wrap around him.

His hands grip my hips, flipping me onto my side. He takes ahold of my thigh, hiking it up for better access. His opposite hand grabs ahold of his cock, stroking it before rubbing the tip through my folds. I bite my lip, my stomach tightening, bracing for penetration, my pussy desperate for it. He slowly sinks into me, fully bottoming out. My jaw falls slack, my mouth vocalizing a drawled-out moan. He shudders inside of me, his eyes closing at the feeling of my pussy snugly swallowing him.

His thrusts are slow and hard, setting a rhythm. One of my hands clench the sheets, the other one rubbing his stomach. My eyes squeeze shut, the pressure instantly building in my stomach. I've been waiting for this all day. His free hand runs up my back and around my chest, harshly squeezing my tit. Lewd moans fill the room; him grunting with every deep thrust, constant whines falling from my lips.

"Taking me so well. Just like a good little slut." He says, his hand moving from my boob to my neck.

His strokes pick up in speed, the bed shaking with every thrust. The knot in my stomach continues to grow, my orgasm sneaking up on me faster than ever. He's fucking me so good. I can't hold back the noises he's pulling out of me. The tip of his dick jams into my sweet spot with just the right amount of force. I'm unraveling fairly quickly. It's so wrong but it feels so right.

"Yes, right there." I cry out, clenching around him. "F-fuck, fuck, fuck."

"You close, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, hm?" He groans out, his body leaning over mine.

"Fuck y-yes. God, please don't stop." I moan, my loud voice bouncing off the walls.

He starts fucking into me even faster, the pleasure almost overwhelming. "I don't plan on it."

My legs shake below him, my knuckles gripping the sheets until they're white. His breath on the back of my neck, his moaning in my ear, both sending me over the edge. My body convulses as euphoria takes over. Pornographic moans leave my mouth as I clench around him, letting go. My juices flowing out, completely coating his dick and dripping down the both of us.

"You feel so good." He whines, "Made just for me."

The bliss is at an all-time high, my mind completely fogged with lust for him. I never want this night to end.

"Mm, want you to fill me up." I whine, pushing back onto him, meeting his thrusts.

His hips sputter as he moans, "Yeah? Filthy little slut wants her stepbrother's baby in her?"

I can't even respond, my mouth hung open as screams leave it. It happens so suddenly, another wave of pleasure washing over me at his words. My hand clings to him, wanting to feel all of him. I'm trembling underneath him as my second orgasm hits. His groans grow louder as his thrusts grow sloppy. With just a few more strokes, his body is heaving over mine as he empties himself inside of me. He pumps a few more times, before completely pulling out and sitting back. Both of us struggle to catch our breaths, exerted from that entire moment.

Suddenly, I'm crying out again as he shoves two fingers into me, pushing his cum back in. "Aht, aht! Can't have that."

I'm still shaking with aftershocks when he lies down beside me, his fingers making their way to my lips and into my mouth. My tongue glides over them, sucking off our mixture. He pulls them away with a groan and turns my head towards his. He places another kiss on my lips; hard and passionate.

"We should probably get dressed." I breathe out after a minute.

"No, just stay like this for a little bit longer. I'll make sure it's taken care of before they get back." He whispers, pulling me into him.

I want to protest, but I'm tired and the thought of sleeping in his arms makes my stomach flutter. So, that's what I do.

a/n : ah bye why do i need this so bad? hope you like it! if it's not for you, just shut up k thanks xx

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #imagine #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #step siblings #smut #request

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makethemhoesmad · 2 months ago

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liability(pt. 3)

pt 1. pt 2

only a couple months late, but here it is!!

i’m thinking there will be one more part, hopefully coming sooner

thanks to @imaginespazzi, @azzibuckets, @patscorner, and @barbspeaks for dealing with my copious amounts of yap

—

“it’s for the better,” paige says, for the third time. the first two times, she’d whispered it to herself, trying to make herself believe that it was true. now, she said it to nika, who had witnessed azzi’s erratic flight to and from paige’s place, and wanted to know what had happened.

“thats what she said? verbatim?” nika questions. that’s not the azzi she knows. the azzi she knows is the one that would fight, tooth and nail, to keep her and paige together. that, even if they were separated for years, decades, lifetimes, she would be determined to find her way back.

“yes, nika i told you it was crazy. i announce that im staying another year to play with the people i love and.. oh.” paige breathes out the last word, tucking her head into her hands as she realizes something.

“what, paige? why’d you say oh?” nika inquires.

“she thinks i should have left,” paige murmures, standing up. she begins to pace the room, speaking quickly to what seemed to be only herself, forgetting nika was even there.

“she must think that i’m wasting my career by staying here, she must think that it’s her fault and that she’s the one ‘ruining my career’ in her mind. typical azzi. she’s on a spiral right now, she’ll come down, probably. probably.” the last statement seems to bring paige back to reality, and tears start to well up in her eyes. she looks to nika, sniffling and asking, “how am i supposed to make her see that she’s not, and never will be a liability.

in another room on the same campus, yet somehow seeming miles away, azzi is alone in her room, curled up under her blanket that still smells like paige, in paige’s hoodie and paige’s sweatpants. she’s giving herself only tonight to grieve for what she killed, and then she’s going to try and move on. that’s what she keeps telling herself, to justify the way she’s sobbed on and off all night. she’s about to start another round when she hears a loud knocking on her door. grudgingly, she sits up and trudges out of her room, opening up the door.

“paige, what are you doing here?” azzi gasps, even though she knows full well why exactly paige has just knocked on her door a mere five hours after their breakup.

“az, we’re still teammates. we have practice in two hours i don’t want you to ever think that you’re holding me back. i’m doing this because i love you, but also because im doing this for me.” paige says, her eyes glistening. azzi wants to take her back, right there. but she shouldn’t, she can’t. so instead, she says something she’s sure to regret.

“you know, paige, if you had just stayed healthy, this wouldn’t have been a problem.”

paige recoiled at azzi’s words, shocked at the harshness in her voice and the statements she made. in a moment of what she will eventually remember to be nothing but complete stupidity, she fires back.

“damn, i mean, if you hadn’t insisted on continuing to play after you fucked up your knee, you might’ve been able to figure it out instead of hurting it worse.”

“don’t do that, paige.” azzi says, her face going scarlet. “you do this when you get mad, hurt people’s feelings and don’t mean it.”

“i could say the same about you, azzi. we’ve played almost zero games together, and that’s the reason i wanted you here in the first place. it’s almost like i want to play basketball with my girlfriend, you know?”

“ex girlfriend,” azzi corrects quickly. she slams her teeth together, trying to trap the words back into her throat. why did she need to correct her so quickly?

“so that’s what we’re playing at, then? we’re playing pretend? we’re gonna sit here and we’re gonna act like we haven’t lived in each other’s skins for five years? our families are best friends, azzi. we can’t lose all that because you got insecure”

and azzi doesn’t know how to answer that. she doesn’t have a rebuttal, doesn’t have a defense or a witness. it’s just her, her thoughts, and her now seemingly unexplainable reasoning to break up with paige. right now, really all she wants to do is fall into paige’s arms and cry until she feels better, because paige always makes it better. something tells her that paige might not want to hold her, right now, though. so instead, she takes a deep breath, firmly points towards her door, and demands, “out.”

ironically, if azzi had in fact just thrust herself it paige’s arms, they’d probably be reunited right now. but instead, paige is standing outside azzis apartment door, debating whether to speed home and put on her gym clothes and wait for azzi to leave for practice outside her door, or corner her after practice. corner her, paige thought, speed walking to her car and grinning.

#paige bueckers #mutuals💀#azzi fudd #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #pazzi #pat🪦#cessa😗💗🤞🩷#sister wifey #barb🔥#liability

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strawberryblue-blog · 7 months ago

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Disaster. Part 1 —Joao Felix.

summary: You see Joao again after he broke your heart and nothing goes as you expected.

warnings: none. enemy to lovers, exes to lovers, many curses, cute, soft.

words count: +2.3k

#SEXYNOTE: Don't worry, there will be a second part of this and it will come faster than you think. Thanks for waiting, sorry for being late. love y'all 💙

The Uber took you to the place you had indicated when you left home, right outside the restaurant where you were supposed to have dinner. Before entering you took your purse and took out a gloss to put some on your lips, it was just a little gloss to look more appropriate. Even though you had left work an hour ago and after a quick shower and putting on the first thing you found, it wasn't like you were ready for your date.

Yes, a date. A blind date that your best friend had set up for you, which you clearly hadn't asked for but had had to agree to when she was so insistent that you come along.

Camila had taken it upon herself to find the perfect suitor for you, according to her. You had absolutely no idea who this was, you didn't even know if it was true or if it was going to be a joke from your friend. She was very insistent that your partners were invisible because she had never really seen you with one. But you had never done anything official with anyone for a long time, you didn't invest your time in men anymore.

You walked into the fancy restaurant, which you allowed yourself to admire as you closed the door behind you. Your friend had mentioned dressing well and you felt a little offended when she said it, but now you understood. Eating here was probably going to be expensive but you could treat yourself for today and if it all ended badly on the date, you would never come to this place again.

"Hello, excuse me" you called to the receptionist. "The table in the name of Y/LN?" you asked at the girl's kind smile.

"Good evening, your table is table 9" she kindly replied checking on her computer.

You politely thanked her and as you turned to go your way, your legs shook. You were nervous and you were not one to get nervous. But the thought of sitting down to dinner with a complete stranger made you hesitate. However, you plucked up your courage and went on your way, spotting the tables guiding you to find your number.

A man's marked back made you swallow your breath. You were a few steps away from him and when your eyes caught sight of the young man with his back turned, you sighed, calming your nerves. I'll just be a while, eat, chat and then leave. «Be nice» You said in your mind. Above all you were going to be polite, whatever your date, you were going to make a good impression.

You took your last steps, approaching the table and when the boy heard you, he looked up at you.

Oh, no. No way.

"Hello, Y/n" he greeted with a smile.

You, on the other hand, frowned in confusion feeling your legs wobble. Damn it. It couldn't be. This was a dream.

"I'm sorry, I think there's been a mistake" you said trying to pretend you didn't recognize it. Your voice dropped and you looked to your sides in confusion.

But inside you, everything moved. This was not true.

"There isn't" the young man mentioned. "Camila wanted to get us together apparently" came back a chuckle.

Damn it. You couldn't believe it was him sitting there. He looked so changed. He really looked more handsome, more mature, like a real man. But in your mind he was still the young man from a few summers ago, the handsome boy who had been driving you crazy since you were little.

"This has got to be a fucking joke," you sigh in disbelief.

Your friend really is crazy, how could she think she could bring you on a date with Joao? The same guy who had rejected you years ago and broke your heart, you hated him!

"You look great" he announced trying to flirt.

"Not with me, Joao" you warn denying.

You don't know whether to be offended by the situation, whether he had been sent by someone who hated you in this life or what was the reason he was here. But he definitely knew you would be here, while you came here hoping to connect with someone else.

You felt somewhat frustrated by what happened that the hunger or anxiety you felt vanished and the urge to run from the place came over you.

"I-I think I should go" you stammered starting to walk.

"Wait!" you heard him yell but you started running to get out of the place.

Yes, you felt offended, humiliated and weird. How were you supposed to connect with Joao if you guys weren't speaking to each other since that day, you hadn't even thought about seeing him again. You were supposed to move on with your lives and never cross paths again. Had Camila lost her mind? Of course she had. There was no other explanation.

You stood on the sidewalk of the place with your head looking sideways, waiting for a cab to arrive as quickly as possible. Damn it! You'd come here for nothing, now you were hungry and a goddamn craving for Joao!

It was clear that seeing him again had had an effect on you, even more so when he looked as fucking hot as he did. You weren't the same as before, now you were both grown up and you had the strength to face him, but he wasn't going to play with you again.

A sigh escaped your lips as no one seemed to appear in the night. Great, what else could go wrong? You'd already ruined dinner, you'd drive home hungry and embarrassed. There were no cabs around and walking was not an option.

Lights flashed in your view as a car approached you, you sighed gratefully. When it parked in front of you, you bit your lower lip with a grimace. It wasn't a cab or an Uber. It was a damn sports car that was worth more than your entire estate put together. It was Joao's car.

You ignored him as he leaned out the window, averting your eyes to the road praying a cab would show up right now. You weren't going to let him drive you home, you weren't going to let him into your life again.

"Stop acting immature, get in" he indicated after a few minutes.

No one had shown up until then. Not even a damn bus that could take you home. But you couldn't give in.

You turned on your heels and started walking briskly, with your head held high and taking it all in. Getting a little further away was a good option and maybe on the way you would find a cab. Beside you, you could see the car start to approach you, and you pressed your lips together indignantly. Why hadn't he left yet? Wasn't it enough for him to see you running out of the restaurant or to ignore him here?

As you walked, the car's lights still shining on you, you could see out of the corner of your eye how he was getting closer and closer to you. You were starting to get annoyed.

"Get in, Y/n, please" he shouted from inside like a plea. "It's late, let me take you home safe and sound" he said again and you stood up with a start.

You hated it. You had done something wrong in this life for karma to pay you back like this, right where it hurt the most. Of course. It's not easy to forget when a man rejects you in your full youth, much less one you liked very much. And he had hurt you so much.

You sigh cursing and grab the doorknob of the car, opening the door to sit in the seat with a serious little pout on your face. You stare straight ahead at all times, not giving him the pleasure of looking at you even though you know he smiled like he had won the lottery.

"Don't say a word" you point out angrily. Joao nods with a chuckle and sets off.

The silence is overwhelming inside the car and you can feel the nerves stinging on the tips of your toes. Your palms sweat and you don't know what to do. There is no music, no words. There are only sighs and the voice of the geolocator pointing the way to your house.

The tension becomes more and more suffocating, at times you find it hard to breathe and your gaze wanders a little to the boy's place. You swallow as your eyes focus on his muscular thighs and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Joao notices your tension and turns from time to time to look at you, making it increasingly difficult.

Damn it. Through the window you catch a glimpse of his profile and your heart races at the sight of him looking so calm, when you're a mess inside thanks to him. The heat in your neck makes you swallow your saliva nervously, the trip seems to take forever and you start to get anxious about getting home.

A current of electricity runs down your back when Joao's hand releases the steering wheel and goes to your leg. Your breath hitches and you freeze. His fingers dig into your inner thigh and you stifle a gasp in your throat as he gently caresses you. You want to grab his hand and pull it away but you cannot. He's left you speechless. You don't even recognize yourself right now, but the fire begins to grow inside you and you despair that you can't control it.

You're thankful when you start to recognize the houses in your neighborhood, knowing you're close to home makes you feel a little safe. You need to get out of this car before something else grows inside you.

When his car parks in front of your house, you sigh to fill your sick lungs with air. You haven't breathed easy since his hand caressed you and when his hand is removed from your body, the air rushes back into your system. You open the door, staggering, anxious to get out. You listen as Joao also gets out of the car and you watch him from the corner of your eye circle the car.

On his face is a seductive smile, a smile that makes you think he won. Damn it, you should never have let him bring you home. Or let him touch you. «Great, Y/N, you're an idiot!»

When he's close to you, he's leaning against the side of the hood of his car, his hands in his pockets, staring at you. Your body is on its side, you turn your back to him and it's now that you feel humiliated. You have to thank him, it's the least you can do for driving here but your face falls in shame. You hug your body, giving yourself some reassurance and turn around facing him.

"Thanks for the ride" you say simply.

The distance between you is prudent but you know that doesn't ensure you feel your belly contract as you see him there, licking his lips with his exalted gaze on you. Your eyes tremble as they meet his, you try to look away but you can't help but think how cute they are. Everything about him. Damn it.

"My pleasure, Y/n" he says softly. You nod with a grimace.

You make the feint to turn around but stop yourself. You can't, your body acts on its own. You run up to him and kiss him without saying anything. Even though you took him by surprise, Joao rests his hands on your hips and pulls you to him, kissing your lips. Your tongues dance in rhythm, while your hands are busy caressing his chest. The taste of his mouth is still intact in your memory, recalling your first kiss years ago.

When the images of that night that was so special for you (but nothing special for Joao) come into your head, you quickly pull away from him. Your lips are numb and heavy, your heart pounding and the fire in your chest burning.

It was a nice kiss but that will be all.

You won't see him again, you don't want to see him again. This is just part of your mistake in having gone on the date in the first place. Tomorrow you can forget about it as long as you stay away from Joao.

Just like that, you turn and walk quickly for home, escaping his nets before it's too late.

It's not too late, is it?

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #fc barcelona #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix imagine #joao felix #strawberryblue blog

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julesdaydreams · 7 months ago

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@rosekillermicrofic II prompt: May 1 - rose II word count: 951

TW: blood (it's nothing major, just a cut, but it's there)

Barty was standing in front of him with a rose.

Barty, his best friend for over six years, was standing in front of him, Evan, with a fucking rose.

And Evan's mind was spinning.

It wasn't like he hadn't dreamt of a moment like this. When the ball at the end of the year was announced, Evan's mind immediately wandered towards Barty. How it would feel to go there with him. His best friend, but more importantly, with the boy he's been madly in love with for the better part of three years.

Evan imagined himself standing in front of Barty, asking him to the dance, and not as friends - like the other times the two of them had attended gatherings together instead of bringing a date because they just couldn't be arsed to ask someone - but as more.

And now Barty was standing in front of him with that damned rose, thorns still adorning the stem because of course Barty wouldn't bother removing them, would like the fact that if he wasn't careful they'd sting and draw blood.

Was this some crude joke of his friend? Was this like all those other times they've gone together to such things instead of bringing someone else? But no, that wouldn't explain the rose. In all those years there had never been a rose and Evan didn’t know what it meant.

“So?”, came the all too familiar voice and Evan's head snapped up and towards those large eyes that looked like Barty's, but also not because Evan had never seen them like this; wide and expecting, but there was fear behind them, a tension, as if Barty was ready to bolt if Evan said something wrong.

“What?” Was all Evan's very unhelpful brain could come up with.

Barty looked exasperated with him already.

“The ball, Evan. You want to go? With- With me?” Barty's voice was higher than usual, if not by much but Evan could tell. He was also fidgety - which was usually pretty normal for the boy, but not with Evan. Not when they were alone.

Finally focusing on the fact that he should probably say something, Evan stepped into action.

“Oh! Yeah sure, mate. You don't have to ask so formally, we always go together to these things, no?”, he laughed lightly but it all came out wrong. Because for once in his life Evan couldn't suppress the hope that this was something else, that this meant more, whatever that more was.

Barty cursed, rolled his eyes, before looking at Evan with so much intensity, he found himself pinned to the floor, not even blinking.

“Rosie, you know that's not what I meant. That's not what this is. I got you a rose for fucks sake! Isn't that obvious enough?! I don't want to go as mates. Not with you. Not anymore. I just- I really hope I haven't been reading this wrong and I'm making a complete arse of myself right now. But- you want this too, right? Want… want us to be more than best friends?”

It all came out in a jumbled mess, just calming down over the last few words and he sounded so unsure. Evan has never seen him like that he wanted to make it go away, now.

So, when his brain finally caught up with him, when his thoughts where finally aligned, focused on the boy in front of him, the boy he loved, he just acted.

He took the rose from Barty's hands, feeling the way the thorns dug into his palm, cutting skin, because he couldn't waste a moment being careful about such a thing when all he wanted was Barty.

His arms wrapped around Barty's neck, pulling him down the few inches he had on Evan, and crashed their mouths together.

It wasn't gentle. Maybe it could've been. If Evan wanted it to. He could've taken Barty's rose gently, instead of crushing the stem in his palm. Could've taken Barty's cheeks in both his hands, cradling them, before planting a sweet kiss to the other boys lips.

But Evan had waited three years for this moment. Had been gentle with his own heart this whole time, trying to protect it, to shield it from every hook-up of Barty's, from every hickey that the other had, that weren't from Evan.

For once he wanted to be reckless and now, here, with Barty he finally could.

Soon it was tongues and teeth clashing together and Evan biting Barty's tongue, drawing blood from the other and loving the taste, loving the whimper it elicited from the taller boy.

Evan would've spent the rest of his life standing there and snogging Barty, but the taller boy took a step back all too soon, looking at Evan with such adoration it made him melt on the insides.

“Is that a yes?”, Barty asked and it wasn't nervous anymore, but cocky. That familiar smirk on his face finally back where it's supposed to be and Evan was so happy with it all.

“That's a fucking yes. I'll go to that stupid dance with you, Barty.”

They kissed again, something long and slightly less brutal, if just as intense.

And if Evan forgot about the rose in his bloody hand and brought it to the side, cradling Barty's neck and jaw; if the thorns stung the other boy's creamy skin, painting it a crimson red… Well. None of them seemed to mind.

#rosekiller #evan x barty #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #hp marauders #marauders #marauders fandom #short story #writing prompt #rosekiller microfic #rosekiller fanfiction

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imisscherryboy-blog · 1 year ago

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running back 2 u

enemies to lovers — football player! ajax x sports med! gn reader

part 2 part 3

spotify playlist ★

story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven’t been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.

notes: enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, american football, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, use of american education system, reader is in a sports medicine class (if you don’t know what that is it’s basically students that help out at school games, usually water girls/boys/people, assist with injuries) i wrote this with the pov of the reader being a POC but if you’re not just disregard when i say white and stuff lmao + part 1/?, title is an nct reference, debating eventual smut, kaveh and alhaitham are gay

side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh)

warnings: swearing, vivid depiction/description of injury

★ part 1 of an ongoing series ★

you hated ajax and ajax hated you. that much was safe to say. ever since that incident in 9th grade, you never talked to him, let alone acknowledged him. before that, you both had known each other since elementary school. everybody loved ajax, his teachers, his peers, and even you. he just had that personality that made everyone love him; but you knew him underneath that persona. you knew his flaws and he knew yours. he’d tell you things he’d never tell anyone, he trusted you. but, all good things come to an end. in the summer going into your first year at highschool, you found yourself never wanting to speak to him again. he ultimately became the person you two would make fun of together in prior years. a typical, white, football player. but damn was he a good running back. he used to be so charming, but now he was just a playboy that had a new girl in his bed every week. you hated him for it, you hated the person he became, but you mostly hated how he’d plague your mind like a disease.

the day of the game finally came. you and kaveh both wore your school’s varsity jackets and jeans. you guys trudged the god foresaken orange gatorade cooler out to the field for the junior varsity and freshman team. the jv game had just finished, and you began setting up for the varsity game.

“y/n, i can tell you’re scared about ajax.”

“wow kaveh, you’re sooo observant.” you said sarcastically as you both were now in the utility room, filling the water bottles for the players.

“listen, you probably won’t even have to talk to him. as much as he likes to talk behind your back, he’s scared of you. you literally know EVERYTHING about him, you could ruin his reputation in milliseconds.” kaveh had a point. you knew his deepest and darkest secrets, but he unfortunately knew yours as well. you screwed the last lid of the water bottle on tighter than usual as you responded.

“thanks kaveh, but promise me you’ll be the one giving him his water, not me.” kaveh laughed as you said this.

“i’d actually be more than happy too! he’s pretty fine anyways…”

“kaveh— please.” you sighed as kaveh only laughed louder. you walked out to the field, the sky a pretty hue of pink as the jv players left and students filed in the bleachers for the real game. you made your way to the bench, right next to the field and placed the water bottle trays down, as cheering filled the stadium, you both looked behind you.

“ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, our undefeated, five-time league winners, the varsity football team!” the announcer said as the cheers only got louder. the varsity boys ran onto the field, ajax leading the team. you rolled your eyes. you’d admit, he looked good in the navy blue and white jersey, adorning the number 11. ajax was the captain and star of the team, his stats practically outdid any other running back in the county. he ranked first for almost every category, he was a good running back, you’d give him that at least. but at that moment, a feeling came over you. you felt jealous. jealous of the new cheerleader girl he was seeing, jealous of his success, you irrevocably hated him.

“god alhaitham looks good.” kaveh said, very much distracted when they began to sing the national anthem.

“you’re shameless, kaveh.”

“well, the national anthem definitely did not include gay people so…”

the game began, and the annoying and repetitive chants from the cheerleaders almost got stuck in your head. they even had a special one for their glorious star boy tartaglia! you could give zero fucks about him and his stupid chant, but you couldn’t help but notice him staring you down as the rival team took a time out. he gulped his water, sweat dripping from his slicked-back hair, before returning back to the field. as promised, it was kaveh’s job to offer him water, not yours. when one team scored, the other followed suit, the game was neck and neck. watching ajax skillfully receive alhaitham’s (the quarterback) throws and run it was something you could watch all day. but you hated him, so you pretended to look busy every time the home team ran a point. it was halftime now, and you and kaveh hung around the bench. they were up by only two points, it was practically anyone’s game, but that’s what makes the epic highs and lows of highschool football, right?

“swear to god, ajax keeps looking at you.” kaveh whispered to you as you refilled the green water bottles. the boys went into the team room as you and kaveh stayed outside. ajax’s fan girls in the stands had finally calmed down. you just looked at him and looked away as you continued to fill up the water. “like, every time he scores a touch down, he’ll do his stupid little celebration and he’ll glance over here—and then i’d look at you, and of course—‘oh, she’s trying to look distracted and pretend to not care again!’.” kaveh rolled his eyes at you, looking at you for an answer. “you still care about him, don’t you?” this time, you didn’t look at him and just stared at the bottle.

“yeah, like i’d give two shits about the school fuck boy. it’s just, i can’t help but remember how he used to be, that’s all.” it was a blatant lie, and kaveh knew. but he decided to stop pressing where it hurts. and just like that, half time was over and the team looked spent, but they still had 30 minutes to clutch. the cheers started up again. another touchdown, and chants of his name were the only things heard in the stadium. you felt surrounded. you just wanted to go home.

finally, the seventh minute began. the scoreboard emitting a soft glow displayed both home and away teams tied. everyone on the bleachers were all sat for these final minutes. including you. you watched intently with kaveh and your sports med teacher on the bench as they hiked the ball.

“alhaitham, number 9 is going for a throw,” the commentator’s voice reverberated through the field. alhaitham spots ajax, right on the 30 yard line, centered on the field. alhaitham takes a couple steps back and throws, the ball spins with accuracy. the crowd and kaveh all cheer.

“a dot! per usual from quarter back alhaitham, how many yards can their star running back score for the team!” ajax grabbed the ball and went for a right hook, swiftly dodging the defenders. he only got faster and faster as the cheers grew louder. he hooked right, and made his way for that touch down line.

“ajax! ajax! ajax!” the crowd chanted as kaveh and your teacher were now standing. you watched him closely, all of a sudden remembering back to when the two of you competed in your middle school’s flag football tournament. he had signed you up without you knowing, and you both somehow cinched first place.

“oh my god—” kaveh’s gasp snapped you out of your thoughts, as you looked onto the field.

the bleachers were silent now. ajax laid on his side, clutching his knee. the ball was long forgotten now.

“it appears number 11 is down.” the commentator remarked. your heart sank to your ass. you knew that knee injuries could fuck up anyone’s career in seconds. especially a running back’s. before you knew it, you were standing, your teacher yelled something to kaveh as he began running toward him to see what happened, you stood frozen. the cries of his fan girls behind you were the only things you could hear, kaveh was trying to tell you something, but you kept looking at ajax’s writhing body and back to kaveh, and back to ajax, and now at the rival team, and back to kaveh.

“y/n! are you listening? this is serious!” kaveh’s voice was almost a yell.

“i-i’m sorry, what do you need me to do?” you blinked a couple times.

“get the ice pack!” he yelled as kaveh made his way to the scene, the rival team went back to their bench as they were in small groups, most likely talking about what happened. you grabbed the ice pack from the cooler and ran over. his eyes were screwed shut as he cursed loudly, your teacher asking where it hurt.

“ah fuck, my knee! motherfu—” ajax bit back his curses with the back of his hand. your teacher radioed for a golf cart, which made you confused because you’d think someone would be calling 911.

“shouldn’t we be calling an ambulance..?” alhaitham asked, kneeling next to kaveh and ajax’s head. kaveh visibly looked flustered.

“y-yeah. we should! as a matter of fact, why don’t i just call them right—” your teacher cut kaveh off as he interjected.

“it’s a torn acl, if we call an ambulance right now, all they’ll do is give him some ice and painkillers which we very much have. we’re not spending 6k for an ice pack. save that money for the surgery.” your teacher remarked.

“the what..?” ajax looked at him with wide eyes as a campus supervisor came with a golf cart, the crowd was at a stand still.

“kaveh, stay here and take over for me. y/n, come with me.” you knew ajax’s injury was nothing life threatening, but you couldn’t help but worry for his future. you nodded your head as you and your teacher got into the front seat of the golf cart, cursing kaveh in your head, wishing it was him to take your place. ajax’s teammates carefully laid him on the golf cart and he cursed at them to be more careful. you rolled your eyes.

“ajax, we’re gonna need you to talk to us, we can’t have you passing out.” your teacher drove the golf cart to the recovery room, making sure to drive slowly over any bumps.

“you want me to talk? well, a torn acl is gonna ruin my goddamn career—fuck!” the golf cart jerked forward a little, making him curse.

“it’s probably not completely torn, ajax. you’ll recover in no time.” your teacher said.

“you’ll probably be out for the season.” you added, you couldn’t help but add a little salt in the wound.

“you’ll be out for the fucking year if you don’t shut the fuck up.” ajax snapped back at you.

“you need some ice dipshit?” you turned around with the ice pack and tossed it onto his knee, making him yell out in pain.

“what the FUCK is wrong with you—” he yelped in pain again, you just rolled your eyes.

“y/n! cut it out! you too, ajax. we’re here.” the teacher took the key out of the golf cart and looked at you. “i need to call his parents and file a report for the insurance, i’m trusting you to patch any cuts and tape his knee for the time being. keep the ice on it—and please don’t assault him.” your teacher was already on their way as they headed towards the office. you didn’t even get a minute to protest.

“no fucking way they just left me with this loser.” ajax scoffed from the back seat of the golf cart.

“at least my knee still works.” you grabbed the key and unlocked the recovery room, it had a couple of medical beds and cabinets filled with all kinds of medical equipment. you turned the lights on as you heard ajax outside yell.

“now you’re just leaving me? jesus, i couldn’t have asked for someone better to help me.” you ignored him as that was not what you were doing. you went to the smaller room in the back to get a wheelchair to get him onto one of the beds. you walked back outside, ajax’s face turned from one of pain to an angered look the minute you stepped outside. you wheeled the wheel chair to him.

“get on.” you said with little to no remorse.

“yeah let me just fly onto the fucking wheel chair why not. can you help me?” ajax yelled as he tried to sit up straight on the back seat. you scoffed and somehow got him onto the wheel chair. you both were silent, but you knew when ajax went quiet, he was overthinking. you knew he was thinking about what he’d do with his injury. you decided to give him something else to think about.

“it’s not that bad ajax. you survived skateboarding into a brick wall, i’m sure you’ll be fine.” you brought up an old memory the both of you shared.

“everyone saw. even the fucking scouters—i’m done for.” your words seemed to fly past his head. almost like he forgot about you and his’ history. you helped him onto the medical bed and made him sit straight so you could tape his knee. you went into the back room to get more ice. from the main room, you heard him start talking again.

“when i ran into that brick wall, you were the only one there. i didn’t have scouters that could get me d1 scholarships.” he remarked. he did remember at least. you came back with a roll of medical tape and some ice.

“you need to roll you pants up past your knee.” you went for the straight forward route as anything else would’ve gotten too awkward.

“yeah no fucking way that’s happening, cut it off for all i care.” you figured getting the leg of the pants over his injury wouldn’t be the most best of things, so you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his pants just above his thigh. he hissed in pain even though you didn’t even touch it. he was always this dramatic, you thought to yourself. you unrolled the pieces of tape and got to work. if ajax was good at football, you were the best at sports medicine. you knew how to wrap an ankle like second nature—a big part of the reason why your teacher asked you to assist, not kaveh. he went quiet again, and you’d much rather have him yelling at you than overthinking the situation after all this.

“how’s teucer?” you asked as he hissed whenever you’d place a piece of tape on his knee.

“w-why do you care? can you be any more gentle?” you looked up at him and kept working. you weren’t any gentler, you just worked slower to make it look like you were. he fell for it easily.

“he’s fine. he just graduated elementary—ow, school.” he responded after a minute passed.

“that’s good.” you said in quieter-than-usual tone. you couldn’t deny it was still awkward between you two. you hadn’t had a conversation like this in practically years, and you never thought you would have to. “so what exactly happened out there? you trip or something?” you knew he didn’t trip. you also knew that ajax had a tendency to overestimate himself, overall causing him more harm than good.

“the turf must’ve been off.” he said looking away. ajax was well aware he let himself get cocky. it was the final minutes of the game and he wanted to end it off strong. in doing so, he got himself a torn acl. good going ajax.

“mhm..”

“what? don’t believe me?” before you could answer the question, your teacher walked in. the first thing ajax asked was if they won the game or not. his “half touchdown” didn’t count, leaving them still tied.

“we won. but it was still a close call.”

ajax looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. he was already upset with his injury, and a loss especially with their title as undefeated would be 10x worse. you tried to look normal, but in truth, you were a little happy for the team. after all, you had some sense of school pride.

“your mom is outside. i’ve talked to her already and explained the injury in length. please focus on resting, then let’s talk about your next games.” with that, your teacher left you both alone again.

“can you walk?” you asked.

“i’ll try.” he said wincing as he got up. you went to his side and put his arm around you. it was silent. you helped him to the parking lot, occasional swears were heard from him. you said his mom waiting outside of the car.

“oh sweetie!” ajax’s mom held him tightly.

“hi mom, i’m fine.” his words were muffled into her shoulder.

“oh goodness, let’s get you in the car!” she helped him into the passanger seat. they spoke to each other in russian, it sounded like he was getting scolded. it was none of your business anyway. after doing so, she came back out.

“y/n? i remember you!” she said, giving you a hug.

“hi mrs tartaglia.” ajax’s mom had a soft spot for you. she’d always pack you extra food, and would never fail to treat you like one of her own, it made you happy. due to the circumstances, you hadn’t seen her in what felt like years.

“how’ve you been? we’ve missed you!” her hand stayed on your shoulder, her voice was genuine. but who exactly did she mean by “we”?

“i’ve been alright, thanks for asking.”

“ajax still talks about you, you should come over some time! teucer and tonia miss you!”

huh?

did you hear that right?

maybe it she didn’t actually mean it like that, why would ajax still be talking about you?

ajax rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

“mom i’m hurting let’s go.” he half shouted.

“alright, alright. i’ll see you soon hopefully, y/n! thank you for looking after ajax!” she said with a warm smile as she got back in the car before you could say a word. you simply waved and smiled back at her. you glanced over for a second, seeing ajax on his phone. you didn’t understand. did ajax really stil talk about you? you’d have a lot to tell kaveh..

the two of them left the parking lot in their black tahoe suv. you just stood and watched. you cursed to yourself. you couldn’t understand why ajax’s words pulled at your heartstrings a little. you were confused. and things would only get more confusing from there.

-> part 2

328 notes · View notes

avoxrising · 11 months ago

Text

The Feral One • Ch 15

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

The plot thickens…

Content Warnings - Boggs kills the mood

“Do you really want me to?” he purrs, stepping closer to you. You were sitting on the edge of his bed, looking up at him mischievously.

“Well that depends,” you hum. “Do you love me?”

His lips are on yours before you know it. Despite being in love for years, this was the first time you’d had physical contact of this sort, and damn, you should have done this sooner. Why hadn’t you done this sooner?

He finally pulls away after a few moments, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Always,” he replied.

“Do you love me?” he asks, kissing along your neck.

“Yes idiot!” you exclaim. “Are you that oblivious?”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Johanna,” he laughs, giddy at your confession.

“Shut up,” you state, pulling his lips back onto yours.

His hands roam your waist as yours toy with the buttons on his jumpsuit. The moment heats up and you can tell where this is headed, but his watch buzzes, killing the mood.

“We’ll have to finish this later,” he sighs, checking his watch. “I’m needed in command before dinner and you are needed back in your room.”

“Ugh, fine,” you reply. “But we will be finishing this later.”

And finish it you did, spending the next afternoon making out on Finnick’s bed. He seemed hesitant, however, to take it any further with you.

“Why don’t you want to have sex with me?” you ask him as he pulls away again. He’s a bit shocked by your question.

“I just think it’s not something to rush into,” he explains. “And I didn’t think you wanted to because of what happened before.” You see him wince at the mention of this previous event which only confuses you more.

“What happened before?” you ask, sitting up.

“Your victory tour…” he replies. “The night in the capital.”

“We never had sex in the capital,” you tell him, still confused as to what he’s talking about.

“No we did not,” he confirms. “Do you seriously not remember?”

“I cannot think of anything you could be referring to,” you respond. You had no clue what he was talking about.

“Forget it then,” he says, trying to drop the subject. “I just don’t think we’re at that point yet.”

“Fine,” you pout. “What were you referring to though?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, shaking his head as he avoids eye contact. “It’s probably best not to remind you.”

He was jealous that you could forget the worst night of your life, while he had to constantly relive all of his.

“Finnick and I had the best idea!” you announce as you waltz into command, Finnick following behind you. The two of you had come to a sort of compromise last night that may fix your living situation.

“And what might that be?” Plutarch asks.

“So you won’t let us live together because we aren’t married, right?” you state. Coin mutters a quick “yes” before you continue. “And you guys need more stuff for your propos…”

The two adults just stare at you, unsure of what’s going to be suggested.

“So… we thought of a compromise,” you explain. “We will let you film a fake wedding of us here in 13 if you let us live together. It will not be legally binding but it can appear real enough on camera so people who see it outside of this bunker believe it.”

“What do you think?” Plutarch asks Coin.

“You two still wouldn’t be able to live together as you are not legally married in 13,” she states.

“Oh my god it’s not like we’re going to make any babies!” you exclaim, causing Finnick to cringe. “We literally just want to be roommates, like we have been for nearly 6 years.”

“I like the idea,” Plutarch shrugs, looking over at Coin. “It would definitely be good footage.”

“Fine but I have some caveats to the arrangement,” Coin relents. “Firstly, Miss Y/L/N must still attend regular checkups with our doctors as well as follow an assigned daily schedule like the rest of the district. Mr. Odair must actually follow his schedule and will commence combat training with the other victors.”

“Deal,” you smile.

The district is a buzz with the news of a wedding. You receive congratulations from many people, most of whom you’ve never met, and confused faces from the victors. They knew you two liked each other but what changed?

“You’re engaged?” Johanna asks, nearly choking on her water.

“Fake engaged,” you clarify. “We made a deal with Plutarch that he can film our fake wedding for a propo if Coin lets us be roommates.”

“I see,” Johanna sighs.

“Why don’t you guys just actually get married?” she asks. “It’s gonna happen with you two eventually.”

“Finnick doesn’t want to,” you reply. “He says marriage is something you do because you love someone, not because you want to be roommates.”

“Ugh men,” she groans. “You mean to tell me he doesn’t realize that the two of you are in love?”

“No we’ve established that already,” you explain. “He just doesn’t want to rush into anything.”

“What do you want?” she asks.

“Him,” you respond. “He’s being weird though. The other day I asked him why he didn’t want to do anything past making out with me and he said it’s cause of my victory tour but literally nothing out of the ordinary happened on my victory tour so I’m super confused and he wouldn’t explain it to me and told me to drop the subject.”

Johanna looks at you in shock and you can’t help but get the feeling that everyone knows something you don’t.

“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” you ask her.

“Uh if you don’t remember then I don’t think I should remind you,” she responds. Before you can ask her what the hell everyone was hiding from you she suddenly turns serious.

“What did they do to you in the capital?” she asks. “Like what did your treatment include?”

You are a bit taken aback by her change in subject but respond anyways.

“They, um, would take me to a room down the hall and make me sit down in a chair while they gave me some medications,” you respond. “They said they had been recently approved by the capital to treat ptsd and other illnesses I was suffering from. The medicine would make me super sleepy but outside of that I felt fine. I can’t exactly pinpoint when it started working but I know that once it did I felt so much better that I had ever have before.”

“Did they tell you what was in the medicine?” Johanna asks, concerned. “Or what it was called?”

“Nope,” you shrug. “I questioned it at first but after a few dosages I stopped questioning what I was taking because it made me feel better.”

“I think you should tell your doctor about the medicine and treatment,” Johanna tells you. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair smut #the feral one #mockingjay #finnick #finnick smut

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 11 months ago

Text

The Other Half Part Twenty Three

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: This is a long one y'all. There's more angst, BUT there's a fluffy ending, so. Ya just gotta trust me.

Length: 6K

Warnings: Angst that ends in fluff, so you're gonna suffer, but you're gonna be happy about it; canon-typical violence; a D-level DC villain that's usually more of a Superman baddie, but he's fought Batman once or twice, so.

Summary: When Michelle had announced that she would be moving to Keystone City, you’d burst into tears. Your other friends had passed it off as you being overcome by the news of your oldest and dearest friend moving, but Michelle knew you, and she knew better. It hadn’t taken her long to drag the truth out of you.

“I never liked him.”

Michelle’s flat insistence makes you splutter a laugh through your tears. You sniffle, raising both hands and scrubbing at your eyes, knowing that you're almost certainly ruining your makeup. You’ve tried to put on a brave face, but Michelle has known since you arrived that something was off. She’s banished everyone else from the kitchen, giving the two of you a quiet space to talk. The odd swell of laughter and conversation reaches you every few moments, reminding you that you’re having an incredibly sensitive conversation just a few feet away from people that would probably sell it to the Gotham Gazette for one corn chip.

“Yes, you did,” You argue, raising your hand and scrubbing a tear away.

“...I mean, a little.” Michelle rips a piece of paper towel off of the roll, passing it over. “Did he tell you why?”

You dab at your eyes, trying to piece a reasonable explanation together—one that wouldn’t shock Michelle and expose Bruce’s secret.

You had waited up for Bruce all night, but he’d never come back. At least, he hadn’t come back to you. You’d realized when you’d gone down for breakfast that Bruce had returned, but slept elsewhere—down in the bat cave, maybe, or in an entirely separate wing of the house? But there he was at the table, genially listening to your father discuss whether or not the Metropolis Metros had any chance of making the playoffs that year. You had gotten yourself some coffee and sat at the opposite end of the table, unable to catch Bruce’s eye. He was avoiding it; he was avoiding you. He’d kept that up as you’d seen your parents to the car, as you’d hugged your mother and dodged her attempts to discuss what had been said last night. You saw the firm handshake that Bruce had shared with your father, the strained smile that he’d managed as your father had insisted that he hoped that there weren't any hard feelings.

The two of you had stood side by side as the car pulled out of the driveway, hands to yourselves, eyes set on the fading red tail lights until they were out of sight.

“Can we talk about it?” You finally hedged.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.”

You turned to watch him stride away, stunned. It took you a moment to follow, taking the stairs two at a time to catch up.

“I think there’s a hell of a lot to talk about!”

“I don’t agree.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because they’re right.”

“Excuse me?”

“They’re right!” Bruce barked, whirling around to face you. You froze in place, eyes widening as his yell echoed in the foyer. “I can’t keep you safe.”

“You have kept me safe—You do keep me safe, Bruce!”

“If I could, you never would’ve gotten kidnapped in the first place!”

“I got out of there because of you—”

“You got in there because of me!”

“There are people in this world that are just plain greedy, Bruce. There’s nothing that you can do about that, it is not your fault.”

“It’s my fault that you of all people were taken, and as long as you and I are together, you will continue to be a target.”

“I don’t care!”

“I do!”

“Oh, so you get to go out every night and put people away and get the shit kicked out of you even though you know I hate it and that’s fine, right? Bruce Wayne can make his own damn decisions and put himself in as much danger as he wants, but I get into one little situation and that’s it? You’re decided? I don’t get a say in this?”

“You get a say. You have had a say, but I am through knowing that I’m endangering your life.”

“Well let’s think this through, then. Who else are you putting in harm’s way? Lucius, for one—”

“That’s enough—”

“You’re endangering Alfred. Are you telling him that you’re through putting him in danger?”

“Do not bring Alfred into this.”

“It’s a bullshit argument, Bruce.”

“I’m done talking about this,” He warned coldly, turning away from you. You didn’t let him get far, keeping a pace or two behind him as he strode toward the study.

“What if I’m not?”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“What do you want, Bruce?”

“I want you to leave!”

He stopped short again, but there was no danger of you slamming into him this time. In fact, you took one step back, then another. You searched Bruce’s face desperately as your entire body felt like it was going to cave in on itself. You shook your head a little, hands flexing at your sides as you forced yourself not to reach out, not to tug him in and hold him close and beg him, plead with him to reconsider.

“You don’t mean that,” You insisted.

“I do.” Bruce’s gaze dropped to your shoes.

“Look at me.”

“I’ll have Alfred pack your things—”

“Look me in the goddamn eye and tell me that.”

“You can stay at the penthouse until Michelle can move you back in.”

“Bruce, don’t do this—”

“You can take as long as you need.”

“You—” You reached up, grasping the lariat necklace and yanking it roughly. You felt the clasp break roughly against your skin, heard diamonds scatter as you tossed it at his feet. “You are a fucking coward.”

You hadn’t let him see you cry, but you were sure he’d heard you. You’d hardly made it into your shared bedroom before you’d knelt down and let out a raw, sharp scream—one so long and so loud that you were hoarse when it finally broke. You had spent the day hiding out in your room, and had only managed to stop crying just long enough to fake a few smiles at Friendsgiving.

When Michelle had announced that she would be moving to Keystone City, you’d burst into tears again. Your other friends had passed it off as you being overcome by the news of your oldest and dearest friend moving, but Michelle knew you, and she knew better. It hadn’t taken her long to drag the truth out of you.

“We just, um…” You sniffle. “We just haven’t been seeing eye to eye on a lot of things lately.”

“Marriage? Kids?”

You shake your head at her plying.

“A lot of things.”

“...Does this have anything to do with the fact that your parents were at Thanksgiving?”

“Let’s just say their visit was less than stellar.”

“Oh, hon, I’m sorry,” Michelle shakes her head, taking your hands in hers. You give them a gentle squeeze in turn, eyes swimming as you look down at them. She’s quiet for a few moments before she plies:

“What are you going to do?”

“...May as well move to Metropolis,” You admit. “Mom and dad are there, you’re leaving, and Bruce…” You clear your throat. “There’s nothing keeping me here.”

“Will they let you transfer at work?”

“Something tells me they’ll have the bright idea first thing Monday morning.”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“He’s stubborn. Once he gets an idea into his head, he won’t shake it.”

“You can be damn stubborn, too.”

You nod a bit. “I can, but I’m just…” You shake your head as the tears well viciously again. “I’m so damn tired, Mish. I can’t keep fighting for him if he doesn't want me.”

“Honey,” Michelle sighs, crowding close and drawing you into her arms. You curl your hands around her arm, keeping her close as the sobs begin to shake you again.

“How is the weather there?”

“We’re really resorting to speaking about the weather?” You smile. “My my, times are desperate. Did you pull the lilies up yet? Must be getting cold over there.”

“Now who is speaking of the weather?”

You chuckle at Alfred’s reminder, shaking your head. The two of you go quiet on your sides of the phone. You focus your gaze on your mom’s macrame plant hanger, shifting from foot to foot. You know how Alfred is (“Just fine, as always, dear.”), but you don’t dare ask how Bruce is.

“Have you settled in?” Alfred presses before you can bring anything else up.

“Um…” Your brow furrows. “The office is nice—bigger desks.”

“And the apartment? The car?”

“I’m with my parents. I don’t have a car.”

Alfred is quiet for a few moments before he offers: “Master Wayne—”

“I know what he did,” You cut in quickly. You'd gotten the email from the newly Wayne-owned apartment building, as well as the message to pick your new car up from the dealership when you'd arrived in Metropolis. “I don’t want anything from him.”

Alfred sighs softly on the other end, and it makes your gut twist. You lean back against the kitchen counter, looking down at the floor.

“...How is he?” You finally mumble.

“He misses you.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

“Buying you an apartment and a car?”

“I don’t care about things, he knows that. If he cared, he would pick up the—...Damn phone,” You trail off in a mumble as you hear yourself growing more and more frustrated. You tried calling him three times before you left Gotham, but you hadn't gotten a single response. You haven't bothered to try since.

“Anyway,” You clear your throat, “You never answered me about the lilies.”

“I have a few weeds to pull up before I cover the beds.”

“You should do that soon. It’s only going to get colder. Are the lights up in the city yet?”

“They are.”

“Must be nice. I love Gotham at Christmas.”

“How is Metropolis?”

“It’s nice! It’s nice. It’s fine. Pretty. Good lights. Not as good as Gotham’s, but good.”

“Are the accommodations at your parents comfortable, at least?”

Comfortable. That isn't the word you’d use. These days, you’re sleeping on a lumpy pullout couch in a cramped living room, living out of a duffel bag. They’re meant to be spending their days comfortably, not with their heartbroken daughter sleeping in the living room and trying to put the pieces of her life together. You’re grateful to them for opening their home, and you feel so ungrateful for feeling crowded, but a week ago, this was not the life that you pictured—

You raise your hand to pinch the bridge of your nose to stem a wave of tears.

“Mhm!” You nod, though Alfred can’t see you, hoping that the affirmative movement will bolster the firmness of your tone. “S’nice, it’s cozy.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

“Yeah! Yeah, thank you.” You clear your throat. “I should get going for work soon, I’ve got a meeting to prep for.”

“Of course. I'll send the remainder of your things tomorrow."

“Sounds great. I’ll call you soon.”

“It will be lovely to hear from you then.”

“It’s lovely to hear from you now.” You smile bitterly. “Bye, Alfred.”

“Goodbye.”

You lower the phone and hang up, raising your hand to swipe at the few tears that have managed to slip. Work, you have got to get to work. Your parents' place is a quick bus and train ride to and from the office, but you’ve been getting in early to get up to speed—and with the hopes of avoiding the paparazzi.

There aren’t nearly as many as there were when you were in Gotham, but so far, you’ve had a handful lingering around the front door when you leave. They always throw out questions—Why’d you leave Gotham? Did you and Wayne break up? Did he cheat on you? Why aren’t you living in the apartment with your name on it? Are you ever going back to Gotham?

You hadn’t bothered to answer a single question, just kept your head down and strode toward the train station. They had the decency not to follow you on, or back to the apartment. When you arrive this morning, there isn’t anyone with a camera outside the building. You give the receptionist a friendly smile before you head to the elevator, pressing the up button with a knuckle to keep from dropping your phone or spilling your coffee.

The office is quiet when you step inside. You can see a couple of other people there, but they don’t acknowledge you as you settle in. You open your laptop, humming to yourself as the laptop begins to boot up. You heard a few carolers performing Silver Bells on your way to the office, and it is stuck in your head now. You rest your chin on your hand, trying to picture what the grounds’ gardens must look like all covered over. You can picture Alfred crouching down, covering the raised beds with chicken wire, with Bruce pulling it taut from the other end—

You shift in your seat, trying to push the thought of Bruce away.

He’d be bundled up, too, maybe using the spare pair of gloves that you bought for Alfred—

Ugh, stop it! Stop, just banish him from your mind. That’s probably impossible, sure, but you can pretend, right? You click on the internet app, and freeze when you see the loaded article on the homepage: Bruce helping a model out of a car. You recognize her. You're sure that you’ve seen her at a couple of Liz’s parties. You can’t quite remember her name, though…Your eyes stray to the description before you force them away again, pulling up your email and biting the inside of your cheek to keep from letting tears fall. It feels like all you can do these days is cry, no matter what you do. You know that getting over Bruce is going to be slow-going.

Your hand strays to your neck, where the lariat necklace used to sit…No. Nope, letting it go. Taking out your headphones, putting on your favorite angsty playlist and letting it go.

“How was your day, honey?”

You poke through your container of leftovers as you lean against the kitchen counter. You give your mom’s question a placid smile, and don’t bother to say a word. You know that an admonishment isn’t far behind.

“Oh, don’t stand and eat,” She tuts just a moment later when she spots you.

“I’m fine standing, mom. I've been sitting all day.”

“Your day, honey.”

“It was okay. We got the invite for the Christmas party, it’s next week.”

“Everyone was nice?”

“It’s an office job, not my first day of kindergarten.”

“Well,” She sniffs, “Forgive me for asking a question.”

You roll your eyes.

“Everyone's pretty nice, yeah, but...I don't know. We reviewed this application for a toy maker who wanted to set up a workshop for the holidays, but the board wound up turning it down. I thought it seemed like a good cause,”

“Oh really, that’s nice.”

Nice. She isn’t listening—but you push on anyway:

“It’s a bummer, you know, this Schott Jr. guy’s application was kinda…Sad. It was a little childish, though. I think the writing on the grant really messed up his chances.”

“You can tell me about it later, hon. I have my quilting group tonight.”

God, your mother has more of a life than you do these days. “Well, have fun. Where’s dad?”

“Late shift.”

“Out on Neville Island? Jeez, how late are they gonna keep him?”

“Your father is a big boy.”

“I know, just…”

Your mom casts you an almost pitying look. “This isn’t Gotham, sweetie. He’ll be fine.”

You nod a little, peering down into your remaining leftovers.

“Have fun at quilt club,” You add as your mom heads for the door.

“Sure! We’ll keep it down when we come in!”

“Yeah, I know you all get really wild while quilting.”

“Oh, and honey?”

“Mm?”

“Try not to spend the night sulking. Maybe…I don’t know, go to a bar, pick someone up—”

You choke roughly as you accidentally inhale the bite of food. You regain your breath, throat throbbing as you gasp, “Mom!”

“The only way to get over someone is to get under someone! Okay, I’m going, I’m going,” She insists, holding her hands up in mock-surrender as she edges for the door, taking up her quilting tote bag. You scoff, turning and practically flinging the remainder of the leftovers into the trash as you hear her footsteps retreat down the hall.

“Only way to get over someone is to get under someone,” You mumble, “Fucking…Unreal.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing toward the trash can. Maybe you shouldn’t have thrown out those leftovers. You’re still hungry. Maybe you ought to get yourself out of the apartment, grab some food. Or...You reach into your pocket, drawing out your phone. You don’t call Alfred again—instead, you dial Michelle’s number and walk over to the couch, plopping onto it. You wince a little, glancing down at the cushions. You really should be more gentle with it, you are sleeping on it all the time.

You set the sound to speaker as you wait. It rings…And rings…And—

“You better not be calling to tell me that you’re back with that jerk.”

You can’t help but smile at Michelle’s candor.

“I haven’t even heard from…Him.”

“That jerk. Call him a jerk.”

“Mish, please.”

“Well, he is. But I guess I’ve said it enough for both of us.”

“How’s Keystone City?”

“Honey, I have never seen so much corn in all my damn life.”

“Is it doing the men out there any good?”

“It would have to be super corn if it did.”

“How’s the apartment?”

“Oh my god, it's fucking huge. Half the price we were paying in Gotham for double the size. You should move down here. With our joint funds, we’d be able to build our own mansion.”

“Mm, I don’t think I could move down just yet. I’ve only been at the Foundation for three months, and just moved to this location a week ago. If I up and left now, I’d lose my job in minutes.”

“We could find you one down here.”

“Is it very busy down there?”

“No. But maybe you could do with slowing down a bit.”

“Maybe. Hey, have you gotten your tree yet?”

“Have you?”

“The couch folds out right where it would go. Mom’s thinking of getting a small one that she can put on the kitchen counter.”

“She wouldn’t.”

“...I think it’s guilt,” You admit. “She’s why I’m here, anyway.”

“Ugh, you’ve hit the point of blaming your mother. Finally—took you long enough.”

“Well,” You grumble, “She wasn’t thinking, but her not thinking kinda got me on her couch. You know what she told me before going quilting?”

“What?”

“That I should go pick up a stranger.”

“What?” Michelle screeches, and you wince, turning your head away from the phone. “Oh, my god! Are you mortified? I would die, oh my god!”

You giggle, a lightness taking over you for the first time in several days.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, the sexual tension between me and the electrical sockets are slowly creeping up. I’ve gotta find my own place.”

“If you need a reference—”

“I’ll call you—”

“I will lie through my teeth.”

“You’re a dear.”

“...Have you spoken to him?”

No. “No.”

“Have you blocked him?”

No. “Yes.”

“Do you miss him?”

Terribly. “Maybe.”

“...Okay, here me out—”

“Oh, no, Mish—”

“I’m just saying, maybe your mom is on to something. Not like that, but—have you taken a moment for yourself since you got to Metropolis?”

You think for a few moments, shifting back on the couch.

“...No, I’m just working,” You admit softly. “I feel like if I let myself do anything but work, I’ll just…I’ll fall apart.” Your words quiver as you say it.

“I’m not saying don’t think about it,” She reassures. “I mean…It was almost a year with him, you know? Just…Don’t let that be the only thing that you think about.”

You sink back into your seat, lips pursing as your eyes begin to wet.

“I don’t,” You protest weakly. Michelle sighs on the other end, and you know that you haven’t fooled her for a moment. You shake your head, resolved to push the conversation in another direction:

“Are you going to paint any rooms in your apartment?”

“...I got a few paint samples.” You can hear how reluctant Michelle is to move on, but feel a swell of gratefulness when she does. “Mostly blues and greens. I’m thinking of some kind of turquoise for the kitchen.”

“Some kind of turquoise? Isn’t there only one kind of turquoise?”

“You know, I used to think that, but the paint section of the store proved me very, very wrong.”

You tuck yourself in early, knowing that you won’t be asleep by the time your parents get in. Still, you’d rather fake it than have them ask you if you had a nice night in. Worse, your mother could ask if you’d gone out and gotten under someone, as it were. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to focus on taking slow, even breaths.

You can’t help that Bruce creeps up in your mind.

What’s he doing right now? Is he creeping through some alley? Swooping down on a wrongdoer? Conferring with Gordon?

Elspeth Emerson, that’s that model’s name. She’d hardly spoken a word to you the couple of times that you had met her. Come to think of it, you couldn’t remember what her voice sounded like.

Can you even remember what Bruce’s voice sounded like?

“I want you to leave!”

You wince at the thought, and you roll onto your side, as if you can pull away from the memory. Yes, you remember what Bruce’s voice sounds like. How long will it take until you forget? You peer through the curtains, chest muddling with pangs of regret and sadness as your mind begins to race—to wonder if things would be different if you’d just fought a little harder—

But how many times can you give your love to a man that’s trying to push you away? A man who only took a few days to get over you—or at least to go out and make it seem like he’s moving on?

He must have known that you wouldn’t use that apartment, or that car. He must have just wanted to seem like the bigger person, as if he wasn't the one that had sent you packing. You huff softly, raising your hand to swipe your tears away as they begin to leak. It’s no use; a few slip. It’s only a moment before the trickle turns into a stream, dampening the pillow beneath your head.

You fall into a rhythm. It isn’t a rut—it is decidedly not a rut. You manage to get up and out of the apartment before your parents are awake in the morning. The paparazzi stop lingering around the office, because your existence ceases to be news. You stop flinching at the mention of Bruce’s name; you stop hearing his voice as you try to fall asleep. The ache of missing him doesn’t disappear, but it lessens, some. You don’t take your mom’s recommendation of getting over Bruce by getting under someone else. You consider it, sure. You download a couple of dating apps, but you never actually make a profile. There’s just nothing about it that feels right.

You speak with Alfred almost daily—usually on the phone, if not over text. You don’t ask about how Bruce is doing, and he doesn’t tell you.

That doesn’t stop you wondering.

“What the hell is that?”

“Did you see it?”

“It’s so cute!”

“Do you think it’s some kind of office Christmas gift or something? A little teaser before the holiday party later?”

“You hear Wayne’s gonna be in attendance? Someone said they thought the saw him in the elevator. Do you think it’s because of…You know—”

“Who cares—Hey, does that thing move or is it just a decoration?”

Your coworker’s chatter draws your focus, and you turn away from your laptop. You can see people crowding around something by the elevators. You stand, joining them and peering around them to try and get a look at what they’re talking about. You can just catch a glimpse of a brightly colored, 5-foot tall nutcracker. Your brow furrows as you take in the fuzzy beard, the crisp blue paint of the nutcracker’s coat, the bright gold buttons, and the rifle tucked at its side. You nod at the painted script on one of the boots.

“What’s that say?”

“Schott and Son.” One of your coworkers steps forward, stepping around it and eyeing the back. “There’s a button back here!”

Schott and Son. God, why does that sound familiar?

“Press it!” Someone else urges. You hear the gears crank and whir, quickly covered by a music box rendition of the Nutcracker Suite. You smile a little, as the Nutcracker’s arms move as if marching. You all startle, then laugh as it steps forward and does a short bow. It reaches around itself, and your stomach churns as it grasps the butt of its rifle. You take a step back, warning,

“Uh, guys—”

“Lighten up,” Someone scoffs, “It’s just a toy.”

Their insistence is stifled by a gunshot, leaving the tip of the rifle smoking. You hear two panicked huffs before someone screams. You whirl around to see blood pouring from your coworker’s shoulder. Their scream is chased by others as the Nutcracker ventures deeper into the office, firing again. You scramble away as the others do, running for whatever cover you can find. You stumble as someone gives you a shove, practically climbing over you to get out of the way. You crawl along the floor, getting beneath a desk and tugging a chair in. You fold yourself in as tight as you can, clasping your hands together and fighting to keep your breathing and quiet as you peer out, watching people scramble to get out of the way of the Nutcracker.

Fuck, you left your phone on your desk, so you can’t call 911—Surely someone has, right? Someone’s heard the commotion from another floor, or an alarm has gone off, something—

You hear a horrifying thud, chased by a few more gunshots. You wince with the furious bashing sounds, raising your hands to press over your ears. You focus on your own pounding heart, your rapid breathing—

The feeling of the chair shifting beside you makes you scream and open your eyes.

The sight of Bruce crouching beside your desk makes you crumble.

“...It’s nice.”

It’s a feeble attempt at a compliment and a conversation starter. It’s also an insane understatement. It seems that Bruce didn’t only buy you this apartment—he’d had it furnished, and filled the fridge and cabinets with groceries, spices, all of your favorite goodies. You look from the fully stocked bar cart by the kitchen over to the living room, where Bruce is hurriedly closing the curtains over the lowered shades.

Maybe it shouldn’t be such a surprise that the apartment he chose is so big.

Just being the bigger person, You remind yourself, He doesn’t want to be the bad guy.

Bruce finally turns to look at you. You see his lips twitch with something unspoken before he purses them and swallows thickly. He looks so wan—pallid, and tired. He’d looked it when he’d found you beneath that desk, after apparently smashing the shit out of that Nutcracker with a printer. The ride to this apartment (in the car that he had bought for you and had driven to the office) hadn’t made it any better. Neither of you had spoken.

“You never, um…” You clear your throat. “What are you doing in Metropolis?"

“It was requested that I make an appearance at the holiday party.”

Your gaze narrows slightly. You smell bullshit...But you're not really in the mood to litigate it right now.

“Right.”

You turn away, finally, shrugging off your coat and tossing it over the back of a chair as you head for the bar cart.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Wayne. Great, even.” You take up a clean glass, setting it windowsill beside the car before you reach for the bottle of whiskey. “You want some?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“More for me, then.”

“Are you sure you wanna do that right now?”

“I can’t think of a better time.”

You reach for the seal, struggling to twist it off before you fling it away. You grasp the bottle firmly, trying to ignore your shaking hands as you lift it and the glass. You can’t steady them no matter how hard you try, but you pour anyway, some of the liquid sloshing over the sides and onto your fingers—

You go still as Bruce crowds up close to you, grasping your hands and forcing them down. The glass connects with the windowsill with a sharp, shrill sound; you wouldn’t be surprised if it was chipped, if not cracked. You squeeze your eyes closed as you just feel him—the heat and strength of him up against your back; the gentle press of his face against your hair, and the sound of him drawing in a deep breath; the warmth of his hands, steady over yours. Your lower lip begins to wobble as Bruce intertwines your fingers, using his grasp on your hands to curl your arms around yourself.

“Good thing I wasn’t in Gotham,” You quip dryly, forcing your stern tone over the your rapidly fracturing resolve, “Or today could’ve been a real disaster.”

You shake Bruce off, stepping out of his arms and snatching your glass from the sill, striding more deeply into the living room. You hear Bruce sigh behind you before he hedges:

“What do you want me to say?”

“An apology would be nice.”

“You want me to apologize for wanting you safe?”

“Was I safe today?” You snap, whirling to face him again. “Was that—Killer nutcracker something I was safe from? You can’t anticipate every moment of my life, Bruce. No matter where I go, I could be in danger. What, do you want me confined to a room somewhere and permanently out of harm’s way? What if someone breaks into that room?”

You search his face, desperate for some kind of recognition, some kind of understanding. Bruce shakes his head, his gaze dropping shamefully to his shoes. You lower yourself into an armchair, peering down at the amber liquid, watching it shift with your still-shaking hands. You hear Bruce cross the room before his shoes come into view. He grasps the wooden coffee table, tugging it closer and sitting on the edge of it.

“I just don’t…I don’t like the idea that someone could come after you again, with the purpose of getting to me, or getting something from me,” He admits softly. “I can’t be the reason that I lose someone I love. I can’t do that again.”

You lift your head as Bruce’s voice breaks, heart stuttering as you see his eyes well with tears. You set the drink aside, taking his hands in yours.

“I know that it scares you. It scares me, too. But Bruce, you cannot protect me from everything. But you do—” Your voice breaks as your face twists with upset, “You do protect me, from so much. You protected me after the kidnapping, you protected me today. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would’ve happened…’Sides between this and the attempted robbery at the store, I think I’ve proven that I can get into plenty of trouble all by myself.”

Bruce huffs a shaky laugh through his nose as he nods. He raises your joined hands to his lips, pressing kisses to your knuckles.

“I’ve missed you so goddamn much,” He murmurs.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“I want…” He winces at the phrasing, and seems to reconsider. “I mean…Would you consider coming home?”

Home. Your chest aches with it—with the thought of the mansion, and Alfred, and the covered garden beds.

“Bruce…I love you so much. I want us to have a life together, but…” You shake your head, steeling yourself as his face falls, “But I can’t keep having this argument. I can’t be pushed away from you over and over again and keep wanting to come back. This nearly broke me—No, Bruce,” You chase his gaze as he averts his, holding his eye as your tone grows more firm. “I understand that you want me in one piece, I get it. But how the fuck do you think I feel, night after night, knowing that every time you leave may be the last time I see you?...If I come back,” You hedge carefully, “This is…It. If we implode, or you change your mind and throw me out again, we’re through, I mean really through—”

“That will never happen again.”

“But—”

“You have my word.” He says it firmly, holding your eye as you held his. “I…I acted like an asshole. I didn’t want you to leave, but I thought it would be better for you.”

“Nothing about this has been better for me.”

“I know, I see that now. I’m sorry.”

You nod a little, looking down at your hands.

“...You just want me back in Gotham so you can keep a closer eye on me.”

Bruce chuckles softly, raising a hand to cup your cheek.

“I want you back in Gotham because nothing has been right since you left.”

You tip your face into his hand, letting your eyes slide closed and allowing your tears to fall as you accept the gentle touch. Bruce shushes you softly, smoothing your tears away and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Tell you what,” He murmurs. “Why don’t you call your parents, let them know you’re alright and you’re spending the night here before we go back. I’ll figure out getting your things back in a couple of days.”

“They’re not gonna like that…And the Foundation’s going to be pissed.”

“S’okay. I think they’ll understand you transferring back after what happened in the office. They've cancelled the holiday party to secure the building, make sure that thing didn't have any extra surprises hiding anywhere.”

“Speaking of which,” You lean back, scrubbing your eyes. “There’s someone you should look into.”

“What do you mean?”

“The uh…The Nutcracker, it had a name on it—”

“Schott and Son.”

“Right. Winslow Schott Jr. put in an application for funding from the Foundation, but it was denied.”

Bruce’s frown deepens. “When did this happen?”

“Uh—Two weeks ago, maybe? He left a few angry calls and emails, but then he dropped off, so we figured he’d given up.”

“Did he have a company he applied through, or was it just him?”

“Umm…” Your brow furrows as you try to remember. “It was…The Toymaker, or…The Toyman, something like that.”

Bruce hums, nodding. “I’ll have Fox pull the file, see what we can find.”

“Okay.”

You stand and step away, and only make it a couple of steps before you hear Bruce stand. He catches hold of your hand, folding you into his arms. You go willingly, pressing your face into his neck and drawing in a deep breath as you cuddle close.

"Bruce?"

"Mm."

"Why are you really in Metropolis? I know you, you hate these parties."

Bruce's thumb sweeps along your lower back as he peers gently at you.

"I needed to see you," He admits softly. "It was just supposed to be for a minute...But I was headed to your floor, and I heard the shots, and..." His face goes tight, his jaw tensing. "I couldn't stop myself."

"I'm glad you didn't," You give him a small, reassuring smile. "But I'm a little biased." You reach up, gently sweeping your fingers across his stubbled cheek.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” You accuse.

“Told you,” He mumbles, “Nothing’s felt right since I lost you.”

You tip your chin, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Then it looks like you found me just in time."

Next Part

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne x You #Bruce Wayne/Reader #Bruce Wayne/You #Bruce Wayne fic #Bruce Wayne imagine #The Other Half

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myysaints · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, I saw your requests are open.... if you feel like it and like the idea I'd like to see Japanese kpop idol reader x yuki where reader had been an idol for like 7 years and she's very private like when someone asks about her TMI she's just like i bought this shirt on sale 😐 so when she was asked in an interview if she watches any sports or stuff her members sort of out her for being an f1 fan and then her group gets invited to a race where her and yuki get spotted standing a bit too close (nothing couple worthy but they did look suspicious)... ensure f1 and her fans on twitter being in flames where a lot of her fans are like, lol no I refuse to believe we might lose our queen to a guy that goes vroom vroom but it just gets quite after that so no one thinks about it until a picture of them kissing gets out and people are like I waited three and a half years, Asian man did it in one week only for her company to announce that they had known each other since childhood and they are childhood sweethearts with a 10 year history and like the whole f1 grid being like yuki! You had a girlfriend this entire time

So sorry if this is too specific, if you don't like it you can just skip the request 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

°˖ ⊹ ꒰ YT22 ꒱ REAL OR NO? ─ YUKI TSUNODA

... (PART ONE)

YUKI TSUNODA x f!japanese!kpop idol!reader

⌗︙・ summary — you’ve known yuki tsunoda all your life, but the world doesn’t know that. so when your relationship is accidentally called into the spotlight, fans understandably freak out – after all, who thought that these two worlds would collide?

genre — social media au, fc: sakura from le sserafim

notes — thank you anon for the request!!! it was so cute i spent the whole day absolutely going ham on this fic, which is why it's... so.... so long.... i also changed some details but they're very very minor. hope i did your request justice, and enjoy!

www.youtube.com

[ENG SUB] WHAT SECRET IS LE SSERAFIM’S Y/N HIDING FROM FANS? | KNOWING BROS

yourusername uploaded to their story. 29s

[caption: Thank you alphataurif1 for having me at the Suzuka GP! 파이팅 🤍💙!]

yourusername

Liked by le_sserafim, yukitsunoda0511, alphataurif1, and 3,274,302 others

🏷 alphataurif1

yourusername ただいま (I’m home) ~ 🇯🇵🏎

view all 1,009,284 comments

alphataurif1 かわいい (Cute) 😊

Liked by yukitsunoda0511 yourusername thank you admin!

yukitsunoda0511 幸運をもたらしてくれてありがとう (Thank you for bringing me good luck)！

yourusername どういたしまして (You’re welcome)！おめでとう (Congratulations)！

seulgiphoria SLAY RECOGNISES SLAY

hannitokki begging on my knees for just one chance

landonorris Seeing you in the paddock today made me fearless 😉

yourusername too bad that didn't help you go faster ... dearhyunjin LMFAOOOO SHE HUMBLED HIM REAL QUICK

www.youtube.com/Formula1

PRE-RACE INTERVIEW WITH YUKI TSUNODA | ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX 2023

f1wagupdates

Liked by 932,882 others

f1wagupdates Submitted by anon 🙈 SPOTTED! After the Yuki Tsunoda and an unknown woman (could it be the same girl from Suzuka?) seen entering the driver’s hotel lift together. The pair were clad in matching outfits. According to anon, the woman had a mask over her face and “looked like she didn’t want to be recognised”. 🤔 Who could this mystery woman be?

view all 546,237 comments

miradrivescars THEYRE IN MATCHING OUTFITS 😭😭😭

ynsserafim someone find where y/n is QUICK

isaluvsyn they just finished their world tour right?? i think their last stop was in dubai channieslix that was like 3 weeks ago babe im sure y/n is looooong gone and back in korea by now LOL

bitemelando it’s the same hat as the one in the suzuka picture so it’s probably the same girl

verstrappon yall gotta chill it’s just a regular schmegular black cap damn 🤣

minimumverstappen kpop twt is gonna have a field day with this one lol

...to be continued !

#yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #yuki tsunoda insta au #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 #˖⁺‧₊˚ 📂 ── my writing #꒰ ⁺‧₊˚ [🏁] formula 1 #📬 … you’ve got mail!

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got-ticket-to-ride · 9 months ago

Text

John Lennon talking about "the Beatles break up" in 1970

Breakdown:

Jann asks about the Beatles break up and John says he told Paul he is leaving (like they are the only two people in the band?)

Paul was still making a lot of plans for the band but John was already being stubborn about everything.

Paul probably thought he could/would do damage control while John has not made the announcement yet.

John saying he wasn't angry and then saying "not angry in that way" (what way then, John?) and then slipping to "we" were angry.

Paul calling John on the phone the same day (after crying his heart out for an hour) declaring : he can do the same "John and Yoko" thing

John answering like he was going to be ok with it.

Jann Wenner: You said you quit The Beatles first.

John: Yeah.

Jann Wenner: How?

John:

Well, I said to Paul, I'm leaving.

We're in Apple and I just on the way over to. I knew before I went to Toronto, I told Alan I was leaving. I told Eric Clapton and Klaus that I was leaving and I'd like to probably use them as a group, you know, and it hadn't decided how to do it, to have a permanent new group or or what. And then later on I thought, fuck, I'm not going to get stuck with another set of people in it, whoever they are. So, but I I announced it to myself and to the people around me on the way to Toronto the few days before. And on the plane, Alan came with me. I told Alan, you know, it's over. And then when I got back there was a few meetings and Alan had said, well, cool it cool it because there was a lot to do, you know, business wise it wouldn't have been suitable at the time, you know.

And then we were discussing something in the office with Paul, and Paul said something other, like like to do something or. And I kept saying no, no, no to everything, he said, you see. So it came to a point. I had to say something, of course. And well, what do you mean then? So I said, I mean the group's over, I'm leaving.

And but Alan was there. He'll remember exactly, and she will. This is my how I see it. Alan was saying don't tell.

He didn't want me to tell Paul even you know (pause). And but I couldn't help. So I thought I was out. I couldn't stop.

It came out and Paul and Alan said they were glad that I wasn't going to announce it, that I was going to make an event out of it. Right, but Paul and Alan both. I don't know whether Paul said don't tell anybody, but he was damn pleased that I wasn't, you know, he said, Oh well, that means nothing really happened if you're not going to say anything.

So that's what happened. Well, I mean, like, like anybody when you say divorce, you know, their face goes all sorts of colours. It's like he knew what really that this was the final thing, you know?

And then six months later, he comes out with whatever, you know, I told Ray Connolly. So there's a lot of people knew I'd left, but I was a fool not to do it, you know? Not to do what Paul did, which is use it to sell a record.

Jann Wenner: You were really angry at Paul.

John: No, I wasn't angry. But when he came out with his, I'm leaving. Well, I wasn't angry. I was just shit, you know, I mean, he's a good PR man, Paul. I mean, he's about the best in the world, probably. He really does a job.

I was just. I wasn't angry in that way. I was. We were all hurt that he didn't tell us.

That what he was going to do. But he, I think he claims that he didn't mean that to happen, but that's bullshit. He called me in the afternoon of that day and said I'm doing what you and Yoko were doing last year. And I said good, you know.

Mal Evans during an interview in 1975

MAL (Source): And then… John left. And I remember that well. That was really, truly a heartbreaking experience. We were in Apple, at 3 Savile Row, and John said – “It’s over.” You know? And I drove Paul home. And we got to Paul’s house, and

he spent the next hour in the house crying his eyes out.

And I just wandered around the garden like a lost soul, just crying. It was the end of the world. It was like the end of The Wizard of Oz – when she gets back to the black-and-white reality. All the colour had gone out of life.

#Mclennon Dynamic #John Lennon #Paul Mccartney #Mclennon #1970 #The Beatles #things I read to hurt myself #gttr-beatles

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lees-chaotic-brain · 1 year ago

Note

Hey :) this is the same anon who announced they'd send two requests.

Idea Nr. 2:

Character: Green (Fushiguro Megumi)

Theme: sky (hurt/comfort) idk maybe it's more ocean tho... Not sure.

Prompt: #5 the name of your soulmate appears on your body only after that person falls in love with you. As in: Megumi knows his name is written on reader's body (he's seen it) but he doesn't have reader's name so he thinks either they're not his soulmate or not in love with him and he feels awful, but reader just takes longer to fall in love and in the end reader's name appears on Megumi too? Again: just an idea ;)

hi anon! thanks for sending in this lovely request! your other one will be out soon!

note: in this fic your soulmates name only appears on you after they have said that they are in love with you out loud

Selfish (Megumi x Reader)

Word Count: 1.9K

CW: Insecurity, implied childhood trauma (bullying, abuse, toxic relationships, it's up to the reader), angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, swearing, anxiety

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All your life you had considered yourself unlovable. With the way you were raised, how could you?

No, you believed that you were unlovable, unworthy of good things, and incapable of good.

Because of that, when you started at Jujutsu Tech and met your classmates, you were closed off, opting to sit on the sidelines and be alone. You told yourself that if you joined them, you would ruin their fun. It was impossible for people to enjoy spending time with you. You were annoying, a nuisance, why would they-

“Hey.”

You ignored the voice. They were probably talking to someone else.

“You. Sitting on the bench.”

Startled, you looked up.

You were surprised to see none other than Fushiguro Megumi, one of your peers standing before you.

“Mind if I sit there?”

He nodded his head towards the empty spot next to you on the bench.

“Um, sure.”

“Thanks.”

He sat down, folding an ankle of his knee and propping his chin on his fist.

“Those damn idiots.”

He said, watching Kugisaki and Itadori chase each other around squawking.

“Giving me a headache.”

He turned towards you.

“Say, wanna ditch them and go do something else?”

And so began your friendship with Fushiguro Megumi.

Over time, you began to get closer with Kugisaki and Itadori as well, but Megumi always had a special place in your heart. After all, he was your first friend.

But even as you became more and more comfortable with yourself, a small part of you couldn’t help but to believe that he’s only spent time with you because he pitied you.

So when your soulmates name appeared on your wrist, you couldn’t believe that your fellow first year and friend Megumi had not only fallen for you, but you were his soulmate.

After all, you were unlovable. You were incapable of loving him back the way he deserved.

And he was sweet and kind and caring and awkward and smart and so, so much more.

He deserved so much better than you.

So, logically, the next course of action you took was ignoring him at all costs. You wouldn’t let him be in love with you. If he never saw you, surely he would move on, his name would disappear, and the two of you could go back to being friends.

A small part of you was pained at the idea, but you didn’t dare take a closer look at it. If you did, that meant acknowledging that a small part of you yearned for love and-

No. You mustn’t think about it.

For Megumi’s sake.

Even though it was extremely unlikely that he was your soulmate (you weren't even close to good enough for him) if by a slim chance he was your soulmate, the last thing he needed was your name inked around his wrist, shackling him to you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Megumi had been elated when he noticed his name on your wrist.

After all, when he had realized that he was hopelessly in love with you and quietly confessed his feeling to his empty room, he hadn't dared to hope that he would be lucky enough to have you as his soulmate.

But he hadn't had a chance to talk to you about it, because you were avoiding him like the plague.

It had been months.

Did you really dislike him to the point that the idea of being his soulmate sent you running?

Did you really hate the idea of him loving you that much?

Was he really that unworthy of you?

Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

Maybe he wasn't your soulmate. Maybe your heart belonged to someone else.

Something primal in him writhed merely at the idea of you being with someone else.

He wouldn't, no, couldn't, accept this. He had never asked for much in life. He had never asked people to stay, or for any lofty dreams.

However if you truly loved someone else, or didn't want to be with him, he would have to be okay with it. He had to be. At the end of the day, all he really desired was your happiness.

But for the first time he deeply desired something, and that something was to be with you. And he'd be damned if he let you walk away without even an explanation.

Didn't he deserve at least that much?

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

For months you had successfully avoided Megumi, but it appeared that ended now.

When you heard the knock on your door, you assumed it was Nobara coming to ask you to go shopping with her.

Unsuspecting, you had called out that you were coming, and opened the door.

Only to be faced with the one person you were trying to avoid.

Fushiguro Megumi.

"We need to talk."

You panicked and slammed the door in his face.

Shit. Why did you do that? You just want him to fall out of love with you, not think you hate him!

Your internal word vomit was cut off by him speaking.

"I'm not leaving until we talk. And don't even think about leaving through your window. My demon dog is waiting out there for you."

Fuck. Shit. He had you cornered.

"Why do we need to talk?"

"Just let me in."

His voice was slightly muffled by your door, but you could hear the determination in it.

Accepting that you had no other choice, you sighed and took a deep breath to calm your nerves.

Opening the door you gave him a weak smile.

"Want to come in?"

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Minutes had passed, but neither of you had spoken.

You were perched awkwardly on the edge of your bed, and he was sitting in you desk chair that he had pulled in front of you.

Externally, his face was blank, but inside he was in turmoil.

Every time he attempted to open his mouth and speak, his stomach churned and he felt nauseous. What if after he said everything, you still avoided him? What if you decided he wasn't good enough for you?

Still, he had to try. He walked into this ready to accept it if you didn't feel the same way and continued to avoid him.

"I really, really, like you."

You jumped, startled by the sound of his voice breaking the silence.

He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I mean like, more than a friend."

"Uh-"

"Although, I know you are already aware of that."

His eyes darted to his name inked around your wrist, and you slapped a hand over it.

Megumi's heart panged at your reaction, but he continued speaking.

"And I understand if you don't return my feelings. I just wanted to say it to you officially, I guess."

"Okay..."

You said hesitantly, unsure of what to do. On one hand you wanted to accept his feelings and vocalize your own, but on the other hand you wanted to cry, because you couldn't do that to him. You couldn't trap him in a life spent with you. You would just hold him back.

You heard him inhale, and tensed, nervous about what he was going to say next.

"But...I have to know- why have you been avoiding me for the last couple of months. Did I do something?"

"You fell in love with me!"

You snapped, unable to keep it in anymore.

The hurt was evident on his face.

"Is it really that bad...that I love you? Am I really that repulsive to you?"

"No. No no no no."

You waved your hands, tears blurring your vision.

"You don't understand."

You broke down in sobs, your body curling in on itself as you heaved.

"Hey, hey. Are you you okay."

Megumi's heart ached watching you sob. Reaching out, he stopped himself right before he touched your shoulder.

"Would-Would it be okay if I held you?"

You didn't respond.

Unable to continue doing nothing, he grabbed your sleeve and tugged you into his chest.

"I've got you."

He murmured, rubbing your back reassuringly.

"I'm here. I'm here. I want to understand."

You sobbed harder, gripping the front of his hoodie.

"I-It's not you -hic- it's just you can't love me."

"Why not?"

"Because-Because I don't deserve your love! You deserve so much more than me, and I won't allow you to resign yourself to a life shacked to me!"

"Why won't you allow me to!? It's my life, isn't it?!"

"Because I love you!"

The words formed wings, forcing themselves up your throat before bursting out of your mouth.

Stunned silence filled the room, then slowly, both of you dared to look down at his wrist.

And in a single second, your worst fears and his greatest desire were fulfilled. For there, inked upon his wrist, was your name.

Several moments passed as the two of you stared at the letters inked on his pale skin.

"Oh my god."

You breathed, covering your mouth with your hands.

"I'm so, so sorry."

His head snapped up.

"For what?!"

"I'm so sorry you're my soulmate- god you deserve so much more, this is why I was avoiding you. I thought if you didn't see me long enough your feelings would disappear. And even if they didn't, at least I wouldn't be holding you back. I'm so sor-"

"Apologize one more time."

His voice was low, and angry.

"Apologize one more time for loving me back, for being my soulmate, for having me as a soulmate. I dare you. Apologize to me one more time for making me the happiest I've ever been in my life."

"What-"

You didn't understand what he was saying.

"It's up to me to decide what I do, and don't deserve. In my book, I don't deserve you."

You let out a little scoff.

"It's true."

He looked you square in the eyes, his jade green eyes fierce and brimming with intense emotion.

"You make me a better version of myself. When I'm around you, I'm softer, happier, kinder. You make me greedy. You made me truly desire something for the first time in my life. You make my world brighter, and more beautiful."

He clasped you hands in his.

"I don't know why you think you don't deserve me, and we'll talk about that later, but for now, can it be okay if the two of us just agree to be undeserving of each other together, and be selfish?"

You stared at him with your mouth slightly open and tear tracks on your cheeks.

"Can we just selfishly be together, just selfishly seek our own happiness? Who cares if we don't deserve each other. If we're both happy, nothing else matters in this world. When I'm with you, everything else fades away. So please, will you be selfish with me?"

Putting aside all of your insecurities and fears, you leaned forwards and captured his lips with your own in response to his question.

"I love you."

You breathed, pulling back.

"I love you more."

He responded before leaning in again.

I love you. The three most selfish words you had ever said. But you would say them again and again, if it meant that you got to stay by his side.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Omg I had so much fun writing this! I just love him so much.

#lee's 1 year anniversary event #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #hurt/comfort #angst to fluff #soulmate au #megumi x reader #jjk fics #jjk x reader hurt/comfort

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flamingpudding · 1 year ago

Text

DPxDC Family Week June 22 (Day 5)

Prompt: Children | Music

A/N: Super random and I had no idea what to do with the prompts until a couple hours ago.

AO3 Link: DPxDC Family Week Contributions

It was supposed to be a slow and easy day, barely anything big happening. Just a day for them all to chill and relax. Danny really had hoped for that one calm day. He had gotten Jason to come to the Manor to help him with his literature homework. It took a lot of convincing but in the end he managed to convince his second oldest brother to come. Normally he would have asked Jazz or Barbara but the girls were out on a girls night Steph had demanded.

He knows that Dick was also in the Mansion the moment Danny had let it slip a day earlier that he had gotten Jason to agree to help him; the eldest had announced that was going to come visit too. Of course to spend time with the two youngest Damian and Ellie who were busy caring for the animals in Damians Barn. That he got to hang out with Jason, read: force a hangout, was just a bonus.

Bruce was probably in the office and Alfred was in the kitchen baking.

Everything sounds like a nice and calm day doesn't it? Yea, Danny would have thought so too if it weren't for that sudden slip of cold air leaving his lips as well as a certain ghost looking at him through his Textbook.

He blinked, Jason blinked, they blinked.

"Desiree?" Danny carefully started. "What are you doing here?"

She was supposed to be in the Ghost Zone, specifically in Walker's Prison on time out for granting Condiment King of all people a wish and nearly flooding all of Gotham in mustard, ketchup and other things. Lady Gotham hadn't been very amused either, which was why Desiree should be in Walker's Prison.

The ghost in question only smiled brightly at him and he resisted the urge to close the book in her face. He could see Jason digging around in his bag, ever since the ghost had followed him to Gotham he had made sure that all of his siblings had at least something to catch them. "Well hello there Phantom. I just wanted to see if anyone wanted anything."

Before he could answer her she slipped away from them. Danny cursed in a way that would make Jason proud as he jumped off his chair, changed forms and followed the other ghost through the floor, barely remembering to yell at his brother to tell the others to not utter anything that could remotely sound like a good damn wish.

Too bad Danny had not anticipated Desiree going to the Kitchen were Alfreed and Bruce were apparently having a little nostalgic chat. In which Alfred just happens to say that he wished he had more photos of the times all of them had been children.

One wish granting ghosts intermission later…

Alfred blinked at where Bruce had been sitting a couple seconds ago. No, Bruce was still sitting there but he was not the adult he had been talking to but the six years old version.

"Master Bruce?"

The child looked up at him, tilting their head. "Alfred? Why do you look so old? Older than you normally do?"

Well wasn't that a predicament, Alfred mused. "Master Bruce, what is the last thing you remember?"

"Mom and Dad told me they were going on a business trip and I would be alone with you in the Manor for a while."

Okay that was something Alfred could work with. Surely one of the children could tell him what was going on. Maybe Daniel had an idea, this could be something related to the Infinite Realms after all.

"Alfred! Do you know where Father is?" The butler turned to the kitchen entrance only to find Damian and Danielle each holding onto the hands of a young Richard. "Richard suddenly turned into a child and he doesn't appear to remember us."

"I don't remember you because I don't know you." The child between the two frowned at them. "How did I get here? Did you kidnap me?"

"We didn't twerp. You got de-aged." Danielle was clearly fessed up with young Richard and Alfred couldn't help but chuckle.

"Who are you guys and why are you at my home?" Bruce suddenly piped up jumping of his chair and rushing over to the three.

"I live here, who are you brat?" Danielle questioned in return before Damian could say anything, her eyes narrowed at the young Bruce.

"Nu-uh. I live here with Mom and Dad. You're the stranger."

"Hi I am Richard but call me Dick, I got kidnapped."

"We did not kidnap you."

"Hi, I am Bruce and that's Alfred."

"Alfred, this boy… is that father?"

"I am afraid so, Master Damian."

Before anything further could be discussed the screaming of two other children could be heard. Bruce and Dick rushed out of curiosity toward the noise as children were. Damian and Ellie quickly followed behind them. Alfred didn't take long to also follow them.

The five of them did not expect to find more children but these two were brawling. Two similar looking young boys were currently fighting each other biting, hair pulling and even punching while screaming at each other.

"NO JAZZ TOLD ME STEALING IS BAD!"

"SHUT UP YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT!"

"NO! YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT!"

"NO YOU!"

Alfred did recognise one of them as Jason while the other most likely was Daniel. Clearing his throat the butler waited for the two brawling children to notice him before pulling them apart. "Master Jason. Master Daniel. You two shouldn't fight inside the house."

Danny scrunched up his nose side eyeing the Butler and Ellie cooed who would have guessed that her template used to be this cute. "I don't like that. Call me Danny."

Jason on the other hand stuck his tongue out at Danny once the two got separated. "Daniel, Daniel, Daniel."

Danny glared and Ellie could only laugh at the face he was making. "Stop that."

Damian let out a sigh. "It looks like everyone but us got turned into children. What could be the cause of this?"

Danielle shrugged. "Dunno, the only I know that could do that is a ghost but she is in ghost prison."

"I will see if I can conta-"

"Weeeeeeeeeee!"

The two youngest turned oldest looked up in time to see Dick swinging on the foyers chandelier. The young child's hand slipped and suddenly the boy was free falling. Both rushed to catch the child, Ellie taking to the air and catching him while Damian on the ground let out a sigh of relief, before realizing that Jason and Bruce were gone.

Danny thankfully was still with Alfred holding on to the butler hand watching wide eyed and in awe how Ellie was slowly floating down to the ground with Richard in her arms. The boy was loudly yelling "Again" over and over.

"We need to find Father and Todd." Damian declared once Richard safely touched ground. The boy pouted but took Alfred's hand as he was told.

"I believe Master Bruce might have thought out his old room. It would be in the right wing of the second floor. In regards to Master Jason…"

"I will find him." Danielle offered, already speeing off. Damian only huffed in annoyance as the girl did not stay long enough for him to properly plan how to find the two missing children. With another huff he turned around and left to find his child turned father.

Alfred only smiled as the two now oldest children left and led the two whose hands he was holding towards the kitchen. "Master Richard, Master Daniel. How about you two help me bake some cookies?"

"They won't come to live will they?"

The butler chuckled at little Daniel's question but also noted that down as a worrisome statement he would have to inquire later about. "No they won't but they will surely taste better with two little helpers."

The boy let out a sigh in relieve as the other tilted his head slightly. "I love cookies! This is definitely the coolest time I have ever gotten kidnapped for."

"You have gotten kidnapped before? Jazz said getting kidnapped is bad."

"Nope, this is my first time! But how can it be bad if it's fun so far? I wanna swing on that ceiling thing again!"

"I wanna try that too…"

Alfreed only shook his head as he let the two children continue to talk. Whatever was happening the butler would make sure to take as many pictures as he could. This was his one golden opportunity to get these for the family albums. After all Tim had gifted him last month with the latest phone model that supposedly had one of the best cameras integrated.

--------------

Somewhere else in Gotham…..

When Tim finally got out of the meetings he took a look at his phone. Alfred had been sending pictures all day and he hadn't had the time to take a look at them. He choked on his coffee as pictures of Bruce, Dick, Jason and Danny as children greeted him. The young Co-CEO rubbed his eyes wondering if he was dreaming but then Alfred sent him a video that he instantly saved in his blackmail folder. Whatever was going on he would hold that over his brother's heads for a long time.

Duke leaned back into his chair finally taking a break from his study session. He had ignored his phone so far. Now that he was taking a break he looked at it and spluttered at the cuteness that greeted him. Wait, was that Bruce? And Dick? And Jason? And Danny? What was happening in the Manor? Wasn't today supposed to be a slow day? Hurriedly, the Meta packed up his things from his library table and made his way back home. He did stop shortly at one point to take a look at the video Alfred sent, trying but failing to stop the laugh that bubbled out of him.

The girls all crowded around the screen as Barbara pulled up a live feat from the Manors cameras. They all collectively squalled when they watched the children play. A part of them wondered if they should go to the manor to help Alfred Damian and Ellie but they were having too much fun just watching the chaos unfold on screen.

In the video and live on Barbara's screen four children were currently dancing to the strangest music with Danielle before them instructing them on how to pull off the best moves. All the children's attention was on her as she taught them everything from easy hip hop moves to the funkiest dance move she, herself could think of. Meanwhile Damian was on the sidelines, head in his hand mumbling something but because of the music neither the video Alfred was taking nore the video cams, the girls were watching them from, picked it up.

A couple day's later a blindfolded Constantine finally grazed the Wayne Manor with his presence and a solution to return the four children back to their original age. Once that was done, three out of four were certainly mortified, the fourth trying to take it with Humor all while Alfred was happily working on an additional family photo album.

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https-harlow · 2 years ago

Text

Fight The Feeling Pregnancy Announcement Insta AU

A/N- Thank you to @jackharloww for helping me with some of the fan comments!

Warnings- Some hate comments

Liked by Jackharlow, Urbanwyatt, Claybornharlow, Y/Nfan14, and 4,874,927 others

Yourusername Life lately with my plus one ❤️

Jackharlow Is that my shirt in the last photo 🤨

Yourusername Maybe 🫣

Jackharlow I've been looking for it for months

Yourusername It ended up in my suitcase at some point, and I may have never returned it

Jackharlow I should have known you had it, you do always steal my clothes

Yourusername I'm giving you a baby, the least you can do is let me steal a t-shirt

Jackharlow I'm pretty sure you have more of my clothes then I do

Yourusername So dramatic, I tried to give them all back, but I forgot some

Jackharlow I'm kidding, kind of, but you can have as many of my t-shirts as you want

Yourusername You're going to regret saying that when that's all I fit into

Jackharlow yeah, you're probably right

Claybornharlow I'm so glad you're having a baby with my brother, now you have no choice but to be in my life forever.

Yourusername Love you, you're stuck with me forever now

Claybornharlow Love you too, can't wait to annoy Jack with you forever

Urbanwyatt Can't wait for my best friend to have my new best friend.

Jackfan86 I love when Urban says Jack is his best friend

Urbanwyatt I'm not talking about Jack, I'm talking about Y/N

Jackharlow WHAT when did she become your best friend, this is news to me

Urbanwyatt The day I met Y/N obviously

Yourusername I stole the place of his best friend, I'm surprised you just realized it 🙄

Jackharlow Oh I realized it awhile ago I just thought we were both his best friend, I didn't realize I lost the title completely

Urbanwyatt Well, you can't have two best friends

Jackharlow Y/N, would you like to comment on this

Yourusername I can't tell Urban who his best friend is 🤷‍♀️

Yourusername You've held that title for years, you can give it up for a little while

Jackharlow Funny how Urban just texted me saying, don't worry, you're still my best friend, I just can't tell her that because she'll cry

Yourusername Urban just texted me saying you'll always be my best friend, Jack's never getting that title back

Jackharlow Urban, care to explain yourself?

Urbanwyatt 👨‍🦯

Yourusername Hey, I don't cry that much

Jackharlow You cried over donuts this morning

Yourusername …No comment

Yourusername Do I really cry that much?

Urbanwyatt No, you don’t

Jackharlow No comment

Yourusername Hey you can’t use my own response against me

Jackharlow But I did.

Jackharlow Does this mean I’m moving down to best friend #3?

Urbanwyatt 👨‍🦯

Jackfan38 Y/N is really giving model vibes in the first photo

Y/Nfan43 She is a model...

Y/Nfan10 AHH I'm so excited!!

Y/Nfan97 Fuck the person who posted that video, you shouldn't have had to announce anything unless you we're ready

Jackfan92 THIS!!

Jackfan32 Stay away from him!

Jackfan64 If she makes Jack happy, then we should be happy for him

Jackfan21 Uh, I think it's too late for that

Jackfan85 The couple I never knew I needed

Y/Nfan53 They are so cute

Y/Nfan09 Remember a couple months ago when Y/N was talking about the last time she had her heart broken and she looked so upset talking about how her ex cheated on her? I'm so glad she has Jack to make her happy again after that.

Jackfan30 Aww I'm so glad they make each other happy now

Jackfan39 Damn, Jack bagged her?? I thought I'd be mad when he got a girlfriend, but I'm kind of proud not going to lie

Y/NhaterJackfan428 Wait, they've haven't even been together for that long and she's already having his baby? Are we sure it's his?

Jackharlow We might not have been together that long, but Y/N makes me the happiest that I've ever been. I don't want any of my fans sending hate or saying rude things about Y/N, because if you were truly my fan and supported me, you would be able to see that. None of you know Y/N how I know Y/N and she is the sweetest and kindest person I know. Everyone who knows her would agree with me. She doesn't deserve any type of hate from anyone, especially someone who claims to be my fan.

Y/NhaterJackfan428 Just trying to look out for you

Jackharlow I can look out for myself

Liked by Yourusername, Urbanwyatt, Cozane, Jackfan48, Y/Nfan80, and 5,327,318 others

JackHarlow There's truly not enough words in the world for me to accurately tell you how much I love you. Thank you for always being by my side. I'm going to show you how grateful I am for you every single day.

Yourusername 🥹

Yourusername You're going to make me cry

Jackharlow I thought you didn't cry that much 🤔

Yourusername I cry when someone says something sweet to me

Jackharlow Well I love you, even if you cry a lot

Yourusername You just had to fuck it up with the last part of that 🙄

Yourusername But I love you too I guess

Jackharlow I'll take what I can get after my comment 🫣

Urbanwyatt So, I'm the godfather right?

Claybornharlow Uhh, no I'm going to be the godfather

Urbanwyatt Who's Y/N's best friend? She's going to pick me to be the godfather

Claybornharlow Who's Jack's brother? By DNA. I think I get godfather duties by default

Urbanwyatt You can have godfather duties but I get the title

Yourusername Who says we're going to pick either you?

Urbanwyatt Well who else are you going to pick?

Yourusername Well neither of you if you keep fighting over it

Jackharlow We haven't even thought about it yet

Claybornharlow On my way to bribe Y/N so she picks me, because lets be honest, who ever she picks Jack will agree too

Urbanwyatt 🙄

Y/Nfan193 Not Clay getting a love you but on Y/N's post but Jack gets a love you I guess 😂

Yourusername They share the spot of my favorite Harlow sibling sometimes, plus Clay brought me a milkshake, Jack just said I cry a lot

Urbanwyatt you can't bribe her with a milkshake to be the babies godfather

Clayborharlow I was just being nice

Urbanwyatt sure, I don't believe you

Jackharlow 🙄

Jackharlow Actually, keep this fight going, the less 3am trips I have to do to buy snacks the better

Jackfan29 Aww 🥹 I've noticed how happy Jack has been recently, now we know why, I thought it was just because of Y/N

Jack390 Well, its over for me now, I lost my shot 😭

JackhaterandY/Nfan4 I can't believe they are actually together, like why would Y/N settle for Jack.

JackandY/Nfan283 AHHH Can I trade places with an unborn baby 😭 I want Jack as a dad and Y/N as a mom 😭

Y/Nfan302 Literally 😭

Y/Nfan20 I wasn't prepared for this 😭😭

Jackfan3 My daddy is becoming a daddy 🤭

Y/Nfan028 I never knew I could be jealous of a person who isn't even born yet

Jackfan938 Jack really meant it when he said he wanted 8 daughters

Y/Nfan19 Wait where did you see the babies a girl??

Jackfan938 they haven't said yet, but I hope the babies a girl

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader

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