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deliciousangelfestival · 5 months ago

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The Imperfect Couple - 15

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“Seems like you're declaring war on me,” Bucky said, his voice steady but his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Does it sound like that? Forgive me.” Steve set the golf club down, a smirk playing on his lips. “What I meant is, we have to be aware of everything. We're this close to winning.”

“I agree.” Bucky replied, his expression calm, though his mind churned with unspoken thoughts.

“This is why I trust you.” Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “Remember, we're playing in the highest league now.”

Steve paused before adding casually, “By the way, my son wants to visit Nate. Is that okay with you?”

“I'll let my wife and Nate know,” Bucky responded, his voice neutral, though he felt a flicker of unease.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

When Bucky got home, he saw you sitting cross-legged on the floor with Nate, working on a puzzle together. You both seemed relaxed, unaware of the weight he carried from the conversation with Steve. He walked over, his movements deliberate, and knelt beside Nate.

“Nate, buddy, can you go to your room for a bit? I need to talk to your aunt,” Bucky said gently, placing a hand on Nate’s shoulder.

Nate, always obedient, nodded. “Okay, Uncle Bucky,” he said before scooping up a few puzzle pieces and heading inside.

Once it was just the two of you, you glanced at Bucky and noticed his exhausted expression. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“What? Did something worse just hit you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky took a breath, his jaw tightening. “Did you just involve Ian?” His tone was calm, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.

You widened your eyes, momentarily caught off guard by the question. That single look was enough for him to sigh deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I…” His hands clenched into fists momentarily. He wanted to be angry, knowing full well this would put you on Steve’s radar.

“Just… tell Ian to slow down,” Bucky muttered, clearly uneasy.

“I can’t,” you said softly but firmly. “The way Ian works is far more efficient than anything I could do.”

Bucky rubbed his temples, his frustration mounting. “Then I hope God protects him.”

“Bucky…” you stepped closer, your voice serious. “Be honest with me. Is he in danger?”

Bucky looked down, his hands braced on the counter, his shoulders tense. “Steve just gave me a warning. It won’t matter to him if there’s blood on his hands.”

Your heart dropped. ‘Fuck,’ you thought as panic began to bubble inside. You immediately grabbed your phone and dialed Ian, but there was no answer. Frustration and fear mingled in your chest as you quickly texted him instead: Be careful. Eyes and ears everywhere.

You glanced at Bucky, your stomach twisting. “By the way, the Rogers twins want to come here to play with Nate,” Bucky added as if it were a casual comment, though his voice carried an edge.

“You allowed that?” you asked, the disbelief evident in your tone.

The mention of the twins unsettled you. Your mind flashed back to watching The Shining in secret with Tim, and how the twins in that movie had always given you the creeps. That eerie feeling wasn’t just from the film anymore—it was rooted in real life. You had learned the truth: William and Charles, Steve's sons, had a reputation for bullying other students. The thought of them around Nate made your skin crawl.

Would they be a good influence on Nate? You highly doubted it.

Bucky gave a tired shrug. “I can’t say no to the future president, right?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, knowing there was little you could do to stop it. But one thing was clear—you would be keeping a very close eye on them when they came to visit.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The twins arrived at the house, their faces lit up with matching grins, excitement practically radiating off them. Nate, catching sight of them, bolted to the door, his small body bouncing with joy.

"William! Charles!" Nate called out, bouncing on his toes as he welcomed them in. His innocent joy was palpable—he was simply happy to have people he knew coming to play with him.

"Hey, buddy," William said, ruffling Nate’s hair as they walked inside.

After a brief exchange, they settled in front of the game console, and soon, the twins had chosen a violent shooter game. The screen flickered with gunfire and explosions, the sound effects jarring in the otherwise quiet room. Nate, seated between them, initially watched in awe but quickly became uncomfortable.

His tiny hands shot up to cover his eyes, and he flinched with every loud noise, his body tense as he pressed himself into the couch. He covered his ears, trying to block out the unsettling sounds, but he didn’t say a word, not wanting to ruin the moment.

You watched from a distance, trying not to be the nosy adult. You wanted to give them space, but seeing Nate’s frightened reaction twisted something in your gut. Likewise, you couldn’t stand by anymore. Walking over to the boys, you kept your tone polite, but firm.

“Guys,” you said, your voice cutting through the sounds of the game, “is there another game that’s not as scary? Look, Nate’s getting scared.”

William glanced down at Nate, who was huddled close to him. “Oh, why didn’t you say something, buddy?” he said, patting Nate’s shoulder as if that would fix everything.

Charles sighed and turned off the violent game, switching to something more child-friendly. "Here, we’ve got a game for you, Nate." He scrolled through the options and selected a bright, colorful one with cartoon rabbits running a restaurant.

The second the screen changed, Nate’s face lit up. “Wow!” he exclaimed, his fear dissolving as he leaned forward, eager to play. The teenage boys, now seemingly patient, guided him through the simple controls, explaining how to serve food to the cartoon animals. You felt a wave of relief. Maybe—just maybe—the twins weren’t as bad as you had feared.

Later, the boys decided to go swimming. You sat on a poolside chair, keeping a close eye on Nate. He was wearing a floatie around his small frame, happily splashing in the shallow end while William and Charles horsed around further away.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was Ian. "H...ell...o"

You stood up, checking the signal, which was terrible. Frowning, you moved toward the balcony. The pool was indoors, so you stepped outside, hoping for better reception.

“I just got your text,” Ian said when the call finally connected. His voice was rough, but you could hear his smirk through the line. “You know this isn’t going to stop me.”

“I’m serious, Ian,” you replied, leaning against the balcony rail. “Bucky told me directly. You’re in danger.”

A pause, and then Ian’s voice, low and almost teasing, came through. “Hmm… Guess where I am right now?”

You sighed, trying to play along. “London? Since you went home, right?”

“Nope. Paris. And I’ve found something—something lethal enough to kill Steve,” Ian said, his tone dark with implication.

Paris? You froze. Was this related to Hazel? Your heart pounded with a new surge of anxiety. “Ian, don’t—”

But before you could finish, you heard it. A splash—loud, frantic. You turned around, the blood draining from your face. In the water, you saw a small hand desperately reaching out, the floatie floating uselessly nearby. It was Nate.

Panic gripped you like a vice. “Nate!” you screamed, dropping your phone as you sprinted back inside.

Without hesitation, you dove into the pool, your body hitting the cold water like a shock to your system. Your hands reached for him, pulling Nate’s tiny, trembling body to the surface. His arms latched around your neck in a vice grip, coughing and sputtering as you lifted him from the water.

He gasped, burying his face against your shoulder, his small body shaking as he clung to you. “He…he can’t swim!” you snapped at the twins, your voice filled with raw anger.

William and Charles stood there on the edge of the pool, unfazed. “That’s why we were teaching him,” they answered in unison, their tone almost dismissive.

Nate let out a pained cough, his voice weak. “My nose hurts…” he whimpered, rubbing his face against your neck.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, vulnerable and hurt. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, and you glared at the twins. You remembered that they both just watched while Nate was drowning. Without raising your voice, you pointed to the door, your finger shaking with fury. “Get out. Now.”

The command echoed in the room, sharp and unforgiving. William and Charles flinched, startled by the intensity in your voice. Without a word, they quickly grabbed their things, shooting one last glance at each other before rushing out the door.

You stayed in the pool, holding Nate close, your teeth gritted in anger and your heart still pounding. You knew then—those boys were never going to be allowed near Nate again. Not after this.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The twins walked into the Roger household, their shoulders slumped, clearly sensing the storm waiting for them. Behind them, Peggy followed with a stern but composed expression. As they stepped further into the room, the tension was palpable—Steve stood there, arms crossed, his face hard as stone. He had heard everything from you, and his sons could feel his fury even before he said a word.

William and Charles instinctively moved closer to Peggy, seeking the safety of her presence as if she could shield them from the inevitable.

Peggy, sensing the mounting tension, stepped forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. “Steve, calm down. I will talk to them.”

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, his clenched jaw releasing only slightly. “I’m not going to yell,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I need to say something.”

He fixed his cold gaze on his sons. “Both of you will be homeschooled from now on.”

The twins’ faces fell in disbelief. “Dad, no!” William blurted, and Charles’ mouth hung open, too stunned to speak.

“I know,” Steve said, his voice quieter now, but there was no softness in it. “I know the main reason for your behavior is because your mother and I have been too busy for you. We never spent time together as a family.” His arms unfolded, and to their surprise, he pulled them into a hug. “So, homeschooling is the best option, isn’t it?” His tone sounded almost tender, but underneath it lay a cold warning.

William and Charles glanced at each other, then back at Peggy, silently pleading for her to intervene. But she didn’t. She stood still, her lips pressed tightly together, offering no rescue.

“Good children don’t question their parents,” Steve said, his voice dropping low. “You just say, ‘Yes, father.’”

The twins swallowed hard, a sinking feeling settling in their chests. “Yes, father,” they muttered in unison, their voices barely above a whisper. It felt as though their every move would now be monitored.

Steve’s lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t warm—it was the smile of a man in control. “Good. Now, go back to your rooms.”

The boys moved quietly, retreating upstairs, the weight of Steve’s words heavy on their shoulders.

Once they were out of sight, Steve’s smile faded. He turned toward Peggy, his tone biting. “This is why I never wanted to send them to boarding school in the first place. They needed parental guidance, not strict school rules.”

Peggy’s eyes narrowed, a tired look crossing her face. “Don’t start again, Steve. That decision was made by my father.”

Steve’s expression darkened at the mention of her father. His voice dripped with bitterness. “Oh yeah, him. I almost forgot. I’m glad he’s dead.”

Peggy’s face tensed, a flare of anger sparking in her eyes. “When will you stop badmouthing my father?”

Steve’s cold stare met hers. “Never.”

Steve had lived a life bound by duty, his role in the military shaping every part of him. He was a good soldier—respected, disciplined, and obedient. But despite his loyalty, promotions came slowly. His lack of a powerful family background meant he was always overlooked by those with better connections. Essentially, Steve was an orphan—without anyone to vouch for him, he was left behind.

He knew how the system worked. If you didn’t have the right name, the right family, there was always a price to pay. And Steve had paid it, doing the dirty work of his superiors without question, sacrificing his principles just to keep his place. The worst part of it all was that his commanding officer, General Carter, was his father-in-law.

Every step of his career, Steve had been a puppet for the man who held both his professional and personal life in his hands. The weight of it bore down on him every day.

“Good soldiers don’t ask why,” General Carter always said this to him. “They just say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

"Yes, sir." Steve answer it like he's a robot.

At some point, Steve had everything he’d ever thought he wanted—marriage, a steady career, money, and status. On paper, he should have been happy. But he wasn’t. His life felt dull, empty, like the spark had been drained from it.

The day he realized the truth hit him like a punch in the gut. He wasn’t his own man—he was nothing more than a tool for his father-in-law, a puppet dancing to someone else’s tune.

That was the moment he had enough. The frustration, the years of silently obeying, simmered into anger. He wanted to be the one in control. He was tired of taking orders—he wanted to be the one giving them.

Steve’s life had been dull for years, a constant routine of military duties, politics, and the weight of expectations. Until the day he met Hazel. She was much younger than him—vibrant, full of life—and he was supposed to give her advice, to help steer her back home. Julius and Caroline had asked him to help their daughter stop running away. But when Steve sat with Hazel and listened to her story, something shifted. Her reasons for running, the pressures she felt—her life mirrored his own struggles. For the first time in years, he felt empathy.

He told her, quietly, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can find me.”

And from there, things changed. They grew closer, and eventually, more intimate. He knew it was wrong—cheating on his family, betraying his friends—but for the first time, Steve felt alive again. The numbness of his life vanished in her presence, replaced by something that burned, something real. And then came Nate, the baby born out of that connection, out of a love he hadn’t felt in years.

Steve’s thoughts snapped back to the present. His jaw clenched tightly as he faced Peggy. “Did you tell them to hurt Nate?”

Peggy stood her ground, her face a mix of frustration and cold calculation. “No,” she said flatly. “But they’re smart enough to figure out why their father cares so much about that kid, and why he’s always…” She hesitated, her lips curling into a thin smile. “Spending time with his little girlfriend. Maybe they’re just releasing their anger.”

Steve’s fists tightened until his knuckles turned white. “When I get into the White House, you won’t be coming with me.”

Peggy’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t flinch. “And what then?” she said with a mocking tilt to her voice. “You think you’re going to put that girl in my place? Have you forgotten who you are? You were a beggar, crawling to my father for help.”

Steve’s eyes darkened, a dangerous calm settling over him. “And this beggar has crawled his way to victory,” he said slowly, his voice low but filled with menace. “You can act high and mighty because of me. Don’t forget that I can take it all away from you.” He stepped closer, his words laced with venom. “Remember how your family got their business permits? How they were saved from corruption charges and tax evasion? That was because of me.”

Peggy let out a scoff, her eyes filled with disdain. “You think you’re a king now?” She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “I actually pity her, you know. Because one day, she’ll feel exactly what I felt. You’ll never be satisfied, Steve. You’ll never have enough.”

She turned to leave, her hand on the door. Before stepping out, Peggy glanced back at him, her eyes filled with cold certainty. “Never.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You sat beside Nate, your heart heavy as you watched his small chest rise and fall, his face flushed with fever. The doctor had just left, handing you a bottle of medicine. "Make sure he drinks this, and let him rest completely," he’d said before exchanging a few quiet words with Bucky and leaving the apartment.

Nate’s red, feverish face made your heart ache. He had been through so much in just a few hours. You gently wiped a damp cloth over his forehead as Bucky sat beside you, silent and tense.

"Never, ever let Nate be alone with them again," you said, your voice firm.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I agree. And I’m sorry. I never thought they’d pull something like that."

“Don’t underestimate underage kids,” you warned, your voice sharp. “There are so many cases where perpetrators can’t be jailed because they’re underage.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. "Noted. I won’t forget that."

A brief silence passed, then you asked, “Have you called Hazel?”

“I tried, but I couldn’t reach her. I called her assistant, though.”

You nodded, your mind still spinning. The memory of Nate sinking beneath the water haunted you, but there was something else gnawing at you��you hadn’t finished your conversation with Ian.

Excusing yourself, you left the room and grabbed your phone, your stomach dropping when you noticed the cracked screen from when you’d dropped it before diving into the pool.

You dialed Ian’s number, your fingers trembling as you pressed it to your ear. The first ring echoed, unanswered. Your heart pounded faster. The second ring—nothing. A cold sense of unease crept into your chest. Why wasn’t he answering?

On the third try, the ringing stopped abruptly, and you exhaled in relief. “Hello? Ian?” you asked quickly, your voice tight with worry.

There was a pause on the other end, then a voice you didn’t expect—familiar, but not Ian’s.

“Y/N?”

You froze, confusion flooding your mind. “Hazel? Why are you answering Ian’s phone?” Panic started to rise inside you, the pieces beginning to fall into place. Ian had gone to Paris. He had found something—something connected to Hazel and Steve.

“He… he can’t answer it,” Hazel whispered, her voice breaking.

Your breath caught in your throat, a chill racing down your spine. “Why?” The word came out in a shaky breath.

There was a long silence before Hazel finally spoke, her words hitting you like a sledgehammer.

“Because he’s dead.”

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misspygmypie · 6 months ago

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Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 8

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2609 Click here for Part 7

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

“Are you sure about this?” Y/N asked quietly, her eyes searching Lando’s. “It’s a big deal for Noah to be seen by so many people.”

Lando nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “I know, baby. It crossed my mind too. But remember, all the viewers are online, they’re not here in person. Noah’s going to be in the safest place he could be: right here with us.”

Y/N took a deep breath, nodding. “That’s true. I just want to make sure he’s comfortable.”

Noah, sensing the slight worry in his mom’s voice, looked up at both of them, his big eyes curious but calm. “Lando, are we gonna play games? I wanna go play games now.”

Lando’s smile softened visibly at the boy’s excitement. “Yeah, buddy, we’re going to. Remember, some people will be watching us online but you’re gonna be amazing.”

Noah’s grin spread wide at that and Lando felt some of his nervousness ease. He was always protective of Noah and Y/N and this was a big step, letting Noah be seen by his fans in a stream instead of through paparazzi photos but he knew it was the right move.

Max suddenly appeared in the doorway, breaking the moment with his usual playful energy. “What’s with the serious faces? You two look like you’re about to send Noah off to his first day of school or something,” he teased.

Lando chuckled. “It kind of feels like it.”

“Look, guys, relax,” Max leaned against the doorframe, giving them both a confident smile. “Noah’s going to have a blast. Plus, the fans are going to love him, they already do.”

Y/N’s shoulders relaxed a bit and she smiled at Max’s reassurance. “You’re right. And he’s with you two, so I know he’ll be okay.”

“Exactly,” Max grinned and clapped his hands together, “now, let’s make this the best Quadrant video yet. Noah’s got some races to win!”

With that, they all headed into Max’s gaming room, ready to share this special moment with the world and stream another video for Quadrant. The room was lit with colorful LED lights and Max, as always, was cracking jokes, trying to get Lando to break his serious face. “Come on, mate, smile for the camera. Your fans are here to see happy Lando, not ‘I just lost a race’ Lando.”

Lando rolled his eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Alright, alright. Let’s get this started before you start doing stand-up comedy.”

They did their usual intro, with Max hyping up the video and Lando chiming in with his signature laugh. “So today, we’ve got a special guest. Someone who’s been dying to make his debut on the channel,” Lando said, glancing off-camera with a grin.

Max leaned in with exaggerated curiosity. “Ooh, who could it be? Is it Daniel Ricciardo? Oh, wait, no, he’s probably too busy drinking from a shoe.”

Lando laughed loudly and shook his head. “Nope, even better. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the real star of today’s video, Noah!”

At that moment the boy ran into the frame, beaming with excitement. He was wearing a tiny Quadrant t-shirt that still nearly drowned him but it only added to his cuteness.

“Hi!” Noah said, waving at the camera with both hands.

Lando leaned down to his level and ruffled his hair. “Noah here is going to show us how it’s done today, right, buddy?”

“Oh no, Lando, I think we’re outmatched,” Max was dramatically pretending to be defeated, “Noah’s going to wipe the floor with us!”

Noah giggled and climbed onto Lando’s lap. “So, Noah, what’s the plan? Are we going to play some racing games?”

Noah nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! I want to drive the fast car like Lando!”

Lando grabbed a controller and handed it to Noah. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, little man.”

The trio began playing and it quickly became clear that Noah was more interested in crashing the cars than actually winning the race. Lando and Max were in stitches, watching Noah’s car flip and spin out on the track.

“That’s one way to take out the competition,” Max said, barely able to contain his laughter.

Lando, still laughing, leaned into the mic. “I think Noah might be a future F1 driver, he’s already got the daring part down!”

The more they played, the more the chat in the livestream exploded with comments from fans.

“Oh my gosh, Noah is so cute!”

“Lando’s so good with kids, this is adorable.”

“Quadrant needs to hire Noah full-time!”

“Protect Noah at all costs!”

Lando glanced at the chat and smiled. “Looks like the fans love you, Noah. What do you think, should we make you a permanent member of Quadrant?”

Noah, focused on crashing yet another car, looked up and nodded without really understanding the question. “Yeah!”

“Well, Lando, I think we’ve been replaced,” Max shook his head with mock seriousness. “Quadrant is now Noah’s company.”

After the race, Lando hugged Noah tightly and spun the chair around, both of them laughing while going in circles. “You did great, buddy!”

Noah grinned and hugged Lando around the neck. “Thanks, Lando!”

As the video wrapped up, Lando and Max said their goodbyes to the viewers, promising more fun content soon.

“And don’t forget to like and subscribe if you want to see more of this little guy,” Lando said, gesturing to Noah, who waved at the camera with a big smile.

Once the camera stopped rolling, Y/N, who had been watching from the sidelines, came over and lifted Noah into her arms. “You were amazing, sweetheart,” she said, kissing his cheek.

Lando wrapped an arm around her, looking at her and Noah with a fond smile. “He was a natural. The fans loved him.”

“Well, mate, looks like you’ve got some competition for the fan-favorite spot.”

Lando chuckled at Max’s comment, watching as Noah cuddled up to Y/N. “Yeah and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

_____

As the day began to wind down Max and Noah were still thick as thieves, chatting and playing games like they had all been best friends with each other for years. Max, always one to keep the fun going, leaned over to the 4-year-old at some point and said, “You know, Lando and I like to go golfing sometimes. We’ve got a bit of a rivalry going, though I usually win, of course.”

Lando laughed and rolled his eyes but before he could protest Noah’s eyes widened with interest. “Golfing? That sounds fun! Can I come with you guys next time?”

“Absolutely you can,” Max grinned, clearly loving the idea. “We should make it a thing, the three of us hitting the golf course together. You can even drive the golf cart.”

Noah’s face lit up at the thought of driving the cart but before he could get too excited, Lando chimed in with a teasing grin still giggling. “Whoa, whoa, hold on a second! Noah, you can’t even ride a bike yet. How are you supposed to drive a golf cart? Or swing a golf club?”

Noah puffed out his chest, determined. “I can learn! I bet I can hit the ball really far!”

Max chuckled, giving Lando a playful nudge. ��Come on, Lando, he’s got the spirit! Besides, if he’s half as competitive as you he’ll be swinging like a pro in no time.”

“Alright, alright. But don’t come crying to me when he outdrives you.”

Y/N, who had been listening from the kitchen where she prepared dinner for all of them, joined their conversation. “I think it’s a great idea. It’ll be fun for all of you and who knows, maybe Noah will surprise us all.”

“What do you say, Noah? Ready to take on the golf course with us?” Max looked down at Noah with a wink and the boy quickly nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll show you both how good I am!”

Lando shook his head, unable to keep in a quiet laughter. “Alright, but you’re going to need some practice first. Maybe we’ll start with mini-golf and then work our way up to the big leagues.”

“Deal,” Max celebrated, “and when he’s ready, we’ll have the ultimate showdown. Just don’t be too upset when Noah beats you, Lando.”

_____

Lando was looking forward to a rare weekend off and today was special for another reason, it was the first real “Boy’s Day Out” together with Noah and his best friend Max. Ever since the conversation about golfing came up Noah kept asking Lando when they would go - and today would be the day.

The morning started with Y/N getting Noah ready for their big day. She had picked out the perfect outfit for the occasion: a tiny, crisp white polo shirt, beige shorts and a little cap that she carefully placed on his head. She even got him new white shoes and a tiny golfing glove, making Noah look like a mini version of a professional golfer.

As Y/N led Noah into the hallway where Lando and Max were waiting, the two friends were in the middle of a playful debate about who would win the mini-golf game but the moment they saw Noah they both fell silent, their jaws dropping in unison.

Lando was the first to react, breaking into a giggle. “Oh my God, look at you,” he exclaimed, crouching down to get a better look. “You’re like a mini Tiger Woods but way cooler!”

Max, usually the more composed of the two, was completely taken aback. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. “Mate, this is too much. How is it even legal to be this cute?” He looked at Y/N, pretending to be stern. “You’re going to give us a heart attack dressing him like this.”

Y/N laughed, clearly pleased with their reactions. “I couldn’t resist. He wanted to look just like Lando and Uncle Max today.”

Noah, basking in the attention, gave them a big, proud smile. “Do I look cool?” he asked, spinning around to show off his outfit.

“Cool? You’re the coolest kid ever,” Lando said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “I think you’re gonna win just because you look so awesome.”

Max nodded vigorously in agreement. “Seriously, Noah, we don’t stand a chance. You’ve already won in the style department.”

“But don’t think we’re going easy on you just because you look like a superstar,” Lando leaned in, giving Noah a mock-serious look but the boy only giggled, lifting his little golf club as if ready to take on the world. “I’m gonna beat you both!”

Max placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “I think I’ve just been challenged by the world’s cutest golfer. This is going to be tough.”

Heading out the door Lando and Max kept sneaking glances at Noah, still in awe of how adorable he looked. It was clear that the day was off to a fantastic start, with Noah already winning their hearts before even stepping onto the course.

Noah’s eyes lit up when they arrived a short while later and he was bouncing with excitement, gripping his tiny golf club tightly.

"Look, Lando! I’m gonna beat you!" Noah declared, grinning up at him.

"We’ll see about that, buddy. I’ve been practicing,” Lando just chuckled while Max, carrying a bag of snacks Y/N had packed for them, gave Lando a playful nudge. "Practicing, huh? You really want to win this, don’t you?"

"Just trying to make sure Noah has a good time."

Max winked. "Sure, sure. Let’s see if you can handle the pressure."

The first few holes were a blast. Noah was surprisingly good for his age, managing to hit the ball with surprising accuracy. Max and Lando cheered him on and every time Noah made a good shot, he’d turn to both of them for a high-five.

At one point, they reached a tricky hole that had a loop-de-loop. Noah struggled with it, unable to get the ball to go up the loop. After a few failed attempts, he looked up at Lando with big, frustrated eyes.

Lando crouched down next to him. "Hey, it’s okay, Noah. Want me to show you?"

Noah nodded eagerly and Lando quickly positioned himself behind the boy, softly putting his hands over Noah’s to show him how to angle the club just right. With Lando’s help Noah finally got the ball through the loop and he jumped up and down with joy.

"I did it! I did it, Lando!"

Lando’s heart melted. "You sure did, champ! Great job!"

Max watched the interaction with a grin. "Looks like you’ve got some competition, mate. Noah’s a natural."

Noah was having the time of his life, tackling each hole with determination. He was especially fascinated by the windmill obstacle, which he insisted on conquering without any help. Lando and Max stood off to the side, watching Noah as he lined up his shot, his little tongue poking out in concentration.

“He’s really something, isn’t he?” Lando said, chuckling affectionately.

Max nodded, a smile playing on his lips as he watched Noah’s intense focus. “Yeah, he’s a great kid. You’re really good with him, you know.”

Lando glanced at Max, then back at Noah, who was now carefully aiming his putt. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that, actually.”

“Oh?” Max turned to him, eyebrow raised.

Lando took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I’m serious about Y/N, Max. Like, really serious. I never thought I’d say this so soon, it’s only been almost a year but…I’m thinking about a future with them.”

Max’s eyes widened in surprise but then he smiled, clapping Lando on the back. “Wow, mate, that’s big. I mean, I knew you two were close, but…a future?”

Lando nodded, his gaze still on Noah, who had just managed to get the ball through the windmill. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. They mean everything to me. Y/N, she’s incredible and so supportive of me and my career and Noah…he’s like this little light that brightens up everything. I want to be there for them, I want to be the guy they can count on.”

Max looked at Lando, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “Have you talked to Y/N about this?”

“Not yet,” Lando admitted. “I want to. I just…I’m trying to figure out the right time, the right way. It’s a big step, you know? But I’m pretty sure about what I want.”

“Well, mate, I’m happy for you,” Max’s grin widened and he gave Lando another hearty slap on the back. “And I know you’ll be a great dad to Noah if that’s where this relationship is heading. Just make sure I get to be the best man at the wedding, yeah?”

Lando laughed, feeling a surge of happiness at the thought. “You’ve got a deal.”

They finished the course with Max and Lando neck and neck in the score but it was clear who the real winner was - Noah. He had the time of his life, running between Max and Lando, chattering excitedly about how much fun he was having.

On their way back to the car Noah reached up and took Lando’s hand.

"Can we do this again sometime?" he asked, looking up at them with wide, hopeful eyes.

Lando and Max exchanged a glance, both smiling.

"Of course, buddy," Lando said. "Anytime you want."

Max nodded in agreement. "We’re always up for some more mini-golf madness, right, Lando?"

"Definitely," Lando agreed, giving Noah’s hand a gentle squeeze.

_____

Click here for Part 9!

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @jaydensluv @destinyg237 @il0vereadingstuff @lnchicagosreads @alana4610 @hc-dutch

#ln4 x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando fluff #lando fic #lando x y/n #lando norris x y/n #landonorris #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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starlostseungmin · 10 months ago

Text

husband!han

✰ notes: posting this a day early since i’ll be out of town please enjoy <33 not proofread. REBLOGGING, COMMENTS AND LEAVING TAGS are highly appreciated! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin （ han ）changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Han who asked the baker and chef to put the ring inside the cake. You thought it was kind of old school and yet you cried when you saw the ring. He went down on one knee in front of the crowd as the waiter/waitresses came for assistance. “Will you be the mother of Bbama?” “Yes!”

Husband Han who wrote a song that he’d use on the day of his wedding proposal. The lyrics consist of words about his feelings, how deep his love is for you, how thankful he is, and how you are his favorite person apart from his Minho hyung. He went on the small stage of the restaurant and grabbed a small piece of paper so he wouldn’t forget what he had written.

Husband Han whom you can order around. He complains but still does whatever you ask for. Sometimes he just obeys quietly or if he’s in the mood, he looks like a kid who’s happy to help his parents with that adorable and proud smile plastered on his face.

Husband Han who loves to stay home and watch your favorite movies then proceeds to cuddle you all day. He also buys things that will serve good for your convenience and cause less effort. He is a home buddy for a reason.

Husband Han who is happy as a clam when you visit him while he’s at work especially when you bring him and his members with a ton of food.

Husband Han who is a loud introvert and hits high notes effortlessly on a random Wednesday morning.

Husband Han who overreacts, and screams at any small inconvenience when he gets a chance. Hyunjin would be the one to cover his mouth because his ears suffer the most.

Husband Han who has a lot of feelings and takes everything to heart (playfully) during a nonsense argument and will say some things nonstop until both of you just laugh them off. Yet also the type to be calm and straightforward that would pierce your heart if it’s serious especially when he does have a point.

Husband Han who sometimes doesn’t listen to you and is stubborn.

Husband Han who apologizes hours later after thoroughly thinking of what he did or said wrong during the fight. He would hug you tightly when he sees you crying and say “I love you” instead of “I’m sorry.”

Husband Han who listens attentively to your worries and gives you useful advice. If he feels like you don’t want to hear anything and just sit there in silence, he will hold your hand or bring you into his arms while kissing the crown of your head.

Husband Han whose love languages are physical touch, quality time, and words of affirmation (through the songs he wrote).

Husband Han who gets jealous when you pay too much attention to BBama instead of him. He would sulk at the corner and refuse to talk unless you baby him until he decides to forgive you.

Husband Han who gets sentimental when sad so you let him lay on you and bury his face on your neck while you hum his favorite tune or just play with his hair while whispering some things that he needs to hear. He loves it when you do that.

Husband Han who loves cheesecakes especially when you’re the one who made them. He’d devour them immediately with some iced coffee he got from Seungmin.

Husband Han who gets round when he eats something or just mainly his cheeks are the cutest that you want to kiss, pinch, or suddenly goes nom nom nom.

Husband Han who doesn’t mind you wearing his clothes. He loves them on you.

Husband Han whose voice you want to listen to all night after a long day because it’s soothing to hear and brings you comfort, especially when he is talking softly and in a gentle manner.

Husband Han who gets undeniably shy when you kiss him, especially when you’re in public. He is all giddy and a blushing mess, expect to make out with him when you get home.

Husband Han who can sleep everywhere that you get jealous but he would ask you first if you want to cuddle until you fall asleep in whatever comfortable place you’re at.

Husband Han who texts or calls you before going home from work just to ask how your day went and if you want him to buy something. Sometimes you do it the other way around. It’s a must in this marriage.

Husband Han who spoils you a lot.

Husband Han who respects whatever decision you make, especially when it comes to the thought of having kids. Just like anyone else, he doesn’t pressure you and wait until you’re the first one to initiate the topic.

Husband Han who promised to love you and never leave until death do you part.

Husband Han who thinks that having you in his life is the greatest gift he could ever have and the best thing that ever happened.

Husband Han whom you love, protect, and spend the rest of your life with along with Bbama.

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 4 months ago

Note

Please I beg u, I am in desperate need of jealous Poe! 😭😩🤧 can be fo! or resistance, doesn't matter. No pressure ofc!!

Ooh! I'ma go with Resistance Poe because FO!Poe would probably just kill that person and punish reader for not telling that individual off lol.

Not on my watch

Poe Dameron x fem!reader

Wanna get tagged?

Summary: The new recruit was flirting with you. Poe did not like that.

Cw/triggers: Nsfw, jealous and possessive Poe, p in v, oral (fem! receiving).

The new recruit who had just been at the base a couple of days, was helping you out of your X-Wing, grasping your hand gently, too gentle in his hand, looking at you with lovesick expression.

"Thanks." you gave a friendly smile.

"You're welcome. Gotta say, didn't expect some pilots to be as gorgeous as you." he winked, having no intentions of releasing your hand yet.

Both of you were unaware of BB-8 zipping around nearby, catching that guy's obvious flirtation with you.

He gestured towards your helmet. "Oh, mind me holding that for you?" without waiting for your answer, he unclasped and gently moved it off from your head.

Suddenly BB-8 rolled up beside you, tilting its dome up and beeping curiously at you.

Just a second later, a familiar voice boomed through the hangar.

"Hey, you there!"

Poe approached you both, already looking displeased.

"That's your helmet?" Poe asked, his voice was filled with venom but he kept calm.

The recruit just smiled. "No, it's her helmet. I thought I'd be a gentleman for our pretty pilot."

Poe stared him down, his blood boiling up. "Well, I don't know if it works that way, buddy."

"And who are you?" The recruit scoffed, turning to face Poe, still grasping your helmet in his hands.

"Who do you think I am, recruit?" Poe tested him, arching his brow up.

The recruit scrutinized Poe, his eyes widened in realization as he spotted the rank tag.

"Oh, you're the com–"

"Yeah, the commander, that's right." Poe nodded, putting his hands on his hips.

The recruit literally swallowed down his cockiness and ego.

"Sorry about that, sir, I-I won't bother you again.." he stammered, handing you back your helmet then turned to leave, giving off how exposed and embarrassed he is.

Poe turned his attention to you. "Who was that guy?"

"A new recruit apparently." you shrug.

Poe arched his brow up once more. "And you let that guy get you out of your cockpit and almost pamper you?"

"I did not let him– wait, how do you know that?"

"BB-8 saw everything."

BB-8 confirmed Poe's statement with a proud beep.

"Anyways, you showed him his place. He won't annoy me anymore."

Poe cracked a cocky smile. "Yeah I did," he nods, then his demeanor turned more serious "and later I will show you yours too."

Not sure if you've heard him correctly, you blinked at his words. "Excuse me?" you gave a confused smile.

Poe's cocky smile turned into a grin. "I know you heard me, baby."

"Poe, it was just a recruit not knowing where his place was until you showed up." you giggle.

Poe looked around to see if he could catch the recruit again, seeing him carrying a crate, then stepped closer to you, leaning in for a hug, making sure to make it obvious so the guy would look.

Once Poe saw the recruit looking, both of his hands slid down your back to cup your ass, giving a soft squeeze.

"Well, he tried charming the wrong person. You're my girl, nobody gets to pamper her except me." he whispered into your ear, glancing back at the recruit, who's mouth was agape.

Seeing that reaction from the recruit, Poe couldn't help but smirk before he upped the game by planting kisses along the side of your neck.

"Poe, we're in the hangar." you chided softly but unable to hide the smile.

Only now did Poe pull away. "I know. Gotta make sure everyone knows who you belong to, right?" he smirked.

Later that day, Poe stormed into your quarters, sparing no second to get you undressed on the bed and on top of you.

"Baby, imagine that prick seeing me worshipping you rightnow."

Poe licks his way downwards your stomach, your belly, making you squirm and buck up as he changes his way to your inner thigh.

"You still can't get that guy out of your head?" you chuckle.

Poe smirks against your skin. "After all he was flirting with my girl, of course."

"You're being ridiculous–"

He didn't gave you another second, latching his mouth onto your dripping hole, sucking and licking until it was impossible for you to think straight.

"Maybe I am." he mumbled against you, dipping his tongue inside as far as possible. Then looked up, seeing your beautiful face contorted into pleasure, your fingers gripping the sheets so hard your knuckles were white.

Poe smirked, knowing he had you where he wanted you - underneath him, with the only thing on your mind being the pleasure he's giving you.

You got ripped out of the intense feeling he gave you when he abruptly stopped, making you whine at the loss, only so Poe could free himself.

Poe got between your legs, aligning his dick with your hole and leaning down to your ear.

"But hey, sometimes it's my job to make sure people know you're mine."

He started thrusting into you, slowly at first to get you riled up some more, increasing his movements as your moans got needier.

Suddenly Poe stopped, his mouth went next to your ear, letting you feel his hot breath against your skin.

"Tell me you're mine, sweetie..." he whispered huskily.

Your mind couldn't really comprehend what he just said due to you still being numb from all the ecstasy.

"W-what- wait what?" you gasp, bucking your hips up to get some desperate friction.

Poe chuckled lowly, thrusting into you all the way until he was fully sheathed, then proceeds to grind his pelvis against you, driving you mad with pleasure, then stopping again.

"Come on, baby," in a tortuously slow movement, he started thrusting again, knowing it will make your mind go blank "say it."

"P-Poe, you're killing me!" you whine, but it sounded more like a moan.

"That's not what I wanted you to say, honey." Poe chuckled, figuring you must be close due to your desperation.

You bucked your hips again, feeling your peak approaching. "I'm yours, Poe. All yours." you blurt out, your imminent orgasm made you sound so desperate.

Poe grins, starting to pound into you, sending your mind spiraling. "There you go, baby." he pants, his movements got sloppier with every thrust.

You came first, with Poe only a second behind before he released himself into you.

With both of you laying on the bed together afterwards, you couldn't help but ask. "Did you calm down now?"

Poe took you into his arms. "No chance, sweetie." he chuckled, giving you a lingering kiss. "If I catch that prick flirting with you again then I don't know what I will do."

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

With this fic I'd like to introduce my very new taglist! :)

No pressure, only if you're interested! <3

@nekoyin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#star wars #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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gluion · 4 months ago

Text

songs queued! — boynextdoor’s ktv experiences with you

wc — 1.9k (~300-350 per member) genre & warnings — fluff, crack, platonic for woonhak, most scenarios will have alcohol involved (except for woonhak’s), songs that they’d sing in the karaoke included (with one opm song per member because i must give respect to my heritage that gifted me my talent) notes — one thing about me is that i do NOT play about ktvs. you will catch me drinking and having the time of my life in one almost every week (it's been a month since i last went. i miss it). if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback!

request to be part of the taglist! masterlist

park sungho knows one thing: you and alcohol guarantee a night filled with tears. whether it would be over the worst week you’ve had or out of sheer joy from being surrounded with your friends, it’s a sob fest. the first time you cried to him in your intoxicated state brought him to drop the mic… until he heard you talk about the finale of your favorite series. it’s not that sungho doesn’t take you seriously, but he now knows what to do should you cry again.

✰ sungho never strays away from the microphone, always flipping through the songbook to find another song to queue. if anything, you were the type who seemed to avoid the microphone. yet, sungho never pushed you to sing, so long as you sung along or enjoyed the night.

✰ on the nights the reason behind your tears are serious, he leads you somewhere far from the party, and he’ll stick with you until the end. he won’t force you to talk about anything, only holding a glass of water should you ever need one. he knew these were the only moments you could allow yourself to vent, to be vulnerable, and he would never strip that from you. all he wants is to be there for you.

✰ before you leave the party, sungho checks up on you one last time. he wipes your tear stained cheeks before pulling you into a hug. although your intoxicated mind won’t remember, he tells you to call him the next day. and when morning comes, you’ll see a message from him saying that he’s on the way to your place with a bowl of chinese soup.

songs queued — no control by one direction — still into you by paramore — replay by shinee — broken clocks by sza — and july by heize, dean & dj friz — chinito by yeng constantino

lee riwoo is all too familiar with your three different stages of intoxication. first, you’ll be in a bubbly mood, struggling to hold back your giggles over the smallest things that shouldn’t be funny. when you’ve had a bit more alcohol in your system, you’ll let loose and get on the dance floor, dragging riwoo along to enjoy the night with you. once you’ve calmed down, you’ll find yourself entering your third stage of intoxication: going nonverbal. riwoo follows the same stages as you.

✰ riwoo enjoys the karaoke with you. he can let loose and sing his heart out, knowing that someone is there to reciprocate the energy. it’s in the karaoke room—or maybe just being with you that he feels most alive. in your shared looks, you always read his mind, and you always came rushing to him with what he needed; another singing buddy, a person to dance with, someone to laugh with, the only one who can just sit in silence with him.

✰ when one of you go nonverbal, the other person makes it an effort to ask if they want to go somewhere far from the party. after all, the noise and lights could be overwhelming. riwoo always comes prepared with water while you always have earphones should the energy be too much. however, when the two of you find yourselves entering the third stage of intoxication, a corner in the room suffices. the only thing important to you two is having each other during these moments.

✰ while everyone goes off in their own, you and riwoo stick together. the way back home is a wordless one, but one filled with actions; hand holding and interlocked arms. the two of you thank the universe for silent moments—so long as you two are together.

songs queued — red wine supernova by chappell roan — shoong by taeyang feat. lisa — smoking out the window by silk sonic — beauty and a beat by justin bieber & nicki minaj — born this way by lady gaga — dadalhin by regine velasquez

myung jaehyun follows one rule when it comes to ktvs and you: act as the designated babysitter, specifically yours. you and alcohol never mix well. despite how many times you tell him that you aren’t going to drink, you can’t hold yourself back around a bottle of liquor. yet, jaehyun knows how much you needed the break. in fact, he’s always been the one person to tell you to stop spending late nights with your back slouched in front of your computer. so for now, he’ll allow you to have this time to let loose—so long as he’s there to take care of you.

✰ one thing about jaehyun is that he knew how to have fun without the alcohol—that’s how you know he’s the life-of-the-party. somehow, he knew what you needed. someone to sing with? that’s him. someone to hype you up? easiest job for him. someone to take a break with? you didn’t have to ask—he knows. when he sees you taking a seat after you sing your heart out, he rushes to your side. sure, you need some water, but sometimes, you just want someone to lean on. and he always knows.

✰ as everyone starts to bid their farewells, you hold jaehyun’s arm half-asleep. given all the times he took care of you, there would be no question who brings you home. he knows what to do before you fall to your bed; watch out the remnants of the night so that you can enjoy your sleep. after all, he didn’t mind taking care of you. the soft babbling, the sudden giggles, the quiet snores—these happened to be his favorite moments after every night out.

✰ whenever you wake up, you’d find hangover medicine and water on your bedside table. that was enough to make you smile.

songs queued — to myself by dpr live — new thing by zico — i need a girl by taeyang — aeao by dynamic duo — pour up by dean & zico — beer by the itchyworms

han taesan knows all the telltale signs that show whenever you’ve had too much to drink. he moves quick, ready to catch you whenever you stumble or snatch a shot from you. as much as taesan could never hold back from your eyes that plead to him, he knows you; a morning with a pounding headache and lack of recollection of last night’s events isn’t one you wanted to deal with. you think he’s not doing you a favor, sulking as he tells you he won’t leave until you finish a glass of water, but you’ll thank him when the morning comes.

✰ some nights, you manage to get away from taesan’s scolding. however, that only brings him to think smarter. at a point of incoherency, you still search for alcohol, whining as you ask them to fill up your shot glass. while you expect it to be filled with vodka, taesan fills it with water without your knowledge. to really sell it, he’ll take a “shot” with you. your intoxicated mind could never tell. (it was always amusing to see you hiss over the “alcohol” going down your throat.) and when you struggled to keep up with the lyrics, taesan would join along and keep you up to pace.

✰ when the night finally comes to an end, taesan never allows himself to watch you go home by yourself. you’re too drunk to take care of yourself, and for his peace of mind, he stays with you until he sees you enter the front door.

✰ when morning comes, taesan only recaps your foolish actions. while you sit in embarrassment, taesan laughs. (but he’ll never tell you of all the times he made sure you got home safe. he didn’t care how late in the night—or early in the morning—it would be. all he knows is that he’d do it any day.)

songs queued — linger by the cranberries — welcome to the black parade by my chemical romance — 1999 by g2 & gray — mr. brightside by the killers — sk8er boi by avril lavigne — huwag na huwag mong sabihin by kitchie nadal

kim leehan can’t deny he likes you in your intoxicated state. you’re never this bubbly, clingy, with him unless you’ve got some alcohol in your system. and in this state, you never know how to control your words. shy compliments and secret confessions never fail to leave your mouth. he swears he can hear his heartbeat with every word you say. it starts off with the love songs; you never can stop yourself from singing them. while everyone’s busy singing along, they never spot the glances you take at leehan. he doesn’t know if it’s your poor attempt to look at him discreetly, but he will always lock eyes with you. it’s the heat in your cheeks that are enough to send a message his way.

✰ when you start settling down, you stay with leehan, latching onto his arm and basking in his warmth. leehan accepts your touch, even slinging an arm to hold you close. mumbles tumble out of your mouth. when he can’t understand, he’ll lean closer to you—and the distance is enough to make you lose your train of thought. (leehan can’t help but like your starstruck expression.)

✰ once the party comes to its end, you always sober up in time. you’re back to your laidback persona that everyone knows of. yet, leehan still looks at you like the same intoxicated person who held onto him almost the entire night. although you try to feign ignorance, he knows you all too well. his hand rests on top of your head, allowing you to enjoy briefly in his warmth before you go on your separate ways.

✰ you two never talk about it in the next morning. (but you two think back to it in the late hours of the night.)

songs queued — a thousand miles by vanessa carlton — september by earth, wind, and fire — yeah by usher feat. lil jon & ludacris — so sick by ne-yo — you’re so vain by carly simon — torete by moonstar88

kim woonhak would never pass on karaoke, especially if you’re coming along. every song becomes a duet with you. not in a way that you’re stealing each other’s spotlight but more to deliver the best performance in the booth. the karaoke booth transforms into anything you two want it to be; a stage, a garage, whatever space fits the song and you two.

✰ whenever you two get tired, you fall into a routine of catching up on anything and everything. somehow, you two can talk about anything in the world; lucid dreams, burning passions, the concept of water and if it’s wet. woonhak likes these conversations. if anything, he’d be happy to just talk, but he likes creating memories with you—living life with you. his youth is filled with you.

✰ while everyone leaves with a goal to rest, you and woonhak can’t seem to think about what’s in store for the next day. the way home is filled with laughter over tonight’s events. somehow, you remind him that there’s more to life than just school or work. there’ll always be space for these silly moments and never-ending conversations with you.

✰ mornings after surprisingly aren’t as noisy like the nights you spend at the ktv. somehow, you two like it slow, and woonhak’s happy enough to spend it with his favorite person.

songs queued — her by block b — come back home by seo taiji and boys — left & right by seventeen — cat & dog by tomorrow by together — love scenario by ikon — andrew ford medina by andrew e.

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @onedoornet @kstrucknet

boynextdoor permanent tag list: @bndokidoki @0310s @whyilovewhales-pdf

story tag list: @zynz0 @chewnotchoke

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revelboo · 29 days ago

Note

The question has to be asked. For every human they suddenly find on the lost light. Does brainstorm get smacked for it? I think it'd be funny if a count was kept like that

(Juat smth stupid that I'm giggling over while goofy on sleep meds)

He really should be smacked for every “surprise, here’s a human”

My Way Pt 3

Brainstorm x Reader

• “See? I’m already better at this than half the crew,” he calls out to Perceptor as you just stare at him with wide eyes. Maybe you’re defective and can’t vocalize? “You know, these things are kind of cute in an ugly way.” Can feel the frantic beat of your heart against his servos and honestly, he doesn’t get the obsession. Why fuss over and dote on these weird, little organics? Oh. You’re making a noise now. Kind of a high pitched wheezing.

• Frozen as the giant monster talks about you to the other monster like you’re not even there, he glances at the other one and as soon as those yellow optics aren’t staring a hole in you, the terror paralyzing you shatters. Screaming like you’re being bloodily dismembered and he almost drops you, jarring you into biting your tongue as your heart feels like it stops for a moment. “Your skills are astonishing. I’m sure even you can keep one little human alive,” the other mutters before disappearing.

• “Just had to scream, didn’t you? Look, you appear to be an adult. Probably. So I’ll make sure you have access to food and water and you don’t embarrass me,” he growls, watching you wince and touch your mouth. “That was embarrassing me, by the way.” And you’ve still got a hand over your mouth. Did you hurt yourself? How? Those tiny teeth look blunt. Venting, he carries you back to his habsuite and pulls a slightly used cleaning cloth from his subspace, putting you down and dropping it on top of you. Watching you struggle free before your wide eyes dart around and land on the vent. Can he be held accountable if you get in there? Probably. “I wouldn’t. Unless puréed by a fan is how you want to go out.”

• Shivering as the giant walks past you and sits at a desk, apparently wholly unconcerned about you crawling into the vent to purée yourself anyway despite his warning. And it occurs to you that you really don’t want to be on the floor considering how big he is. Especially his peds. Feeling like a toddler, you edge closer to him, head tipped back to study him. If he meant to hurt you, he would have by now, right? You’re pretty sure he’d only almost dropped you because you’d screamed in his face. If there’s more giant monsters, you need to at least buddy up to one of them for safety. Right? “Can I not be on the floor? Please?”

• So you can talk. Leaning to look down at you, he reaches out a hand and you shy away. “You want up here?” Looking miserable, you come closer and climb into his hand and it’s so disconcerting how tiny and breakable you are. Making him feel almost bad about the one Whirl has. How has it survived this long? “There,” he murmurs, lifting you to his desk and tipping his hand to get you to slide out of his palm, because you’re unsettlingly soft and warm. “If you eliminate on my desk, I’ll put you in the vent myself,” he adds as you just stare up at him. Ugly cute. “I’m Brainstorm by the way. Just sit there and don’t touch anything while I work.” Pulling up a schematic he’d been working on, because designing weapons calms him and right now his processor is a mess. No getting back to recharge until he works off the nervous energy. Didn’t want or need a human. What good are you anyway except to get in the way? Servos stilling when you wander closer, staring up at him, little expression serious. “What? Blinded by how handsome I am?” And still frowning up at him, you wrinkle your nose and shake your head. Okay, that’s just hurtful.

I apologize in advance if anything else I post today is badly in need of editing. In my defense, the grocery store had my wine in stock for once

#transformers x reader #brainstorm x reader #mtmte brainstorm

152 notes · View notes

eu-nicola · 3 months ago

Text

not yours part 2

summary: Rafe Cameron is the perfect boyfriend… but not yours, but Sofia’s. However, fate plays against you when you become the only person capable of understanding him in his darkest moments. What begins as a dangerous friendship soon becomes an attraction impossible to deny.

warnings: nothing i think

word counter: 9057

author’s note: english is not my first language and how I love to use movie quotes, please please tell me if you want to be on my taglist as I'm going to make a new one

tags: @immyowndefender @xcinnamonmalfoyx @wtfdudesblog

The night had started off quiet, too quiet for your liking. You had met up with some friends at the usual club, but soon everything became monotonous. Loud music, laughter, a few interested glances from boys you didn't care about... Nothing new. You were used to standing out, to getting attention, and today you felt a latent need for something different, something that would get you out of that routine. What you didn't expect was that the night would take an unexpected turn and that you would end up running next to Rafe Cameron, with your heart beating a thousand miles an hour.

It all started with a simple misunderstanding. A group of unknown boys approached you at the bar, insisting on drinks and comments that went from flattering to annoying in a matter of minutes. At first, you tried to ignore them, but one of them didn't get the message. His hand rested on your arm with too much confidence, pulling you as if he had the right to do so.

"Let me go," you said firmly, looking him straight in the eyes.

The boy laughed, as if your words had no weight, and continued to insist. You didn't like being treated like that, as if you were just another one they could manipulate at will. You were about to let go when Rafe appeared out of nowhere, as if he had been observing the situation from afar. His mere presence changed the dynamic in an instant.

"Do you have a problem?" Rafe asked, his tone calm but full of tension, as if he was already ready for anything.

The boys looked at him, assessing him. Rafe didn't need to say much to command respect; he was the kind of person who could make someone doubt with just his gaze. But this time, the boys decided not to back down.

"It's none of your business, buddy," one of them replied, defying the calm that still remained in the atmosphere.

And then, everything exploded.

What followed was a succession of quick movements, blows and pushes. Rafe was the first to attack, with a precision that made it clear that it was not his first fight. You, though surprised, weren't far behind. You'd always had that explosive side, that energy that made you face things without thinking twice. One of the boys got too close and without hesitation, you pushed him back with more force than he expected.

Chaos broke out. The music was still playing in the background, mixing with the screams and the sound of glasses falling to the floor. Adrenaline was running through your veins. You weren't scared; you were alive, more alive than you had felt in days.

In a matter of minutes, it was all over. The boys were either on the ground or far enough away that you wouldn't try again. You and Rafe barely looked at each other, there was just an exchange of quick glances and the urgent need to disappear.

"Let's go," he said, taking your hand without waiting for an answer.

And you ran with him, leaving the club as if you were escaping a fire. Laughter began to bubble in your chest as they ran through the dark streets, away from the chaos they had left behind. Rafe, always so serious and controlled, was laughing too, that sincere laugh he rarely showed. It was contagious, and before you knew it, you were both cracking up.

“What the hell was that?” you asked between laughs, finally stopping in a dark alley where no one could see you.

Rafe leaned against the wall, still breathing heavily. His face was illuminated by the distant lights, and for a second you realized how rare it was to see him like this, so relaxed, so… human.

“What we do best, I guess,” he replied, running a hand through his messy hair. There was a spark in his eyes, an emotion that mirrored yours.

You leaned against him, breathing deeply as you tried to calm yourself. The silence between the two of you was comfortable, a pause amidst all the adrenaline.

“You know?” you finally said, turning your head to look at him. “It was fun.”

Rafe let out a soft laugh, tilting his head at you.

“Do you like getting into trouble?” he asked you with a lopsided grin.

“No more than you do,” you replied with a wink.

After a few more minutes, Rafe straightened up.

“We better get moving before someone finds us,” he said, holding out his hand to you.

You took it without hesitation, letting him lead you back to his car. The engine roared as they drove away from the place, and you, with the window open and the wind hitting your face.

A few minutes later Rafe’s car stopped in front of your house after a ride in which both of you had remained silent. But it wasn’t awkward.

“Well, here we are, princess pogue,” Rafe said with a crooked smile, glancing at you out of the corner of your eye as he turned off the engine.

You laughed softly and turned to him, leaning your elbow on the car door. That nickname had something of a mockery to it, but it didn’t bother you. If there was one thing you had learned in all this time with him, it was that this mix of sarcasm and humor was part of his charm.

“I know. So exotic, so out of your perfect world, right?” you joked, faking an arrogant expression while you looked at your nails, as if you were the queen of the entire Outer Banks.

Rafe let out a laugh, one you had rarely heard from him, deep and sincere.

“I almost feel like I should ask you for an autograph before you enter your mansion.”

“Sure. But I would charge you… and I don’t think I would be able to afford it, Cameron.” You joked back, raising a challenging eyebrow.

Rafe shook his head. There was something about you that threw him off, took him out of that character he always wore.

“Don’t underestimate me. Maybe I’ll surprise myself and have enough to pay for your expensive autographs.” He replied with a mocking smile.

You laughed again, enjoying that lightness that was rare when you were around him. Rafe had a reputation, and you knew it better than anyone. But at times like this, he felt different, more human, closer.

“Well, we’ll see if you get lucky next time.”

You opened the car door and climbed out, the cool night air hitting your face. From the open door, you leaned into him once more.

“Thanks for saving me from those idiots. I think I could handle it though…” you said with a playful smile.

Rafe looked at you with a mix of amusement and something else, something you couldn’t quite figure out.

“Sure, but… it doesn’t hurt to have someone watching your back, right?” He winked at you.

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” you admitted quietly.

The two of you looked at each other for a moment longer, a moment suspended in the air before he looked away and started the car again.

“See you soon.” He said before speeding off and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

You stood on the sidewalk for a second, watching the taillights of Rafe’s car fade into the distance. There was something about him, that mix of danger and calm, that made you feel alive. Something that drew you in, even when you knew you shouldn't.

With a sigh, you turned and entered your house.

The next day, sunlight filtered timidly through the curtains of your room. You woke up early, as always. You could still feel the echo of the laughter shared with Rafe on your skin and how the emotion of the moment had left you in an almost euphoric state. But today, that emotion had to take a backseat. It was Sofia’s birthday. And that meant that your best friend needed you.

Still between the sheets, you grabbed your phone and sent her a message:

“Happy birthday, Sof 🎉! I hope you’re ready to be the center of attention today… Although that’s not much different than any other day, right?”

Sofia’s response came almost immediately.

“Thank you!! ❤️ I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. I don’t want anything to go wrong tonight.”

You laughed softly, imagining the mix of excitement and anxiety that was probably shining in her eyes at that moment. Sofia had always been like that, wanting everything to be perfect.

You quickly wrote a reply:

“Relax, everything will be fine. I'll come early to help you with whatever you need. You're not going to do this alone.”

“You're the best. Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you. See you in a bit! 😊”

You got out of bed, already with a clear idea in mind. The night was going to be important for Sofia, and you were going to make sure it was perfect. After all, she was your best friend, and her happiness had always been on your priority list.

You went to the bathroom, took a shower, and got ready with the same dedication as always. You liked to be impeccable, and today would be no exception. You opted for a casual but elegant look: light shorts and a tank top in a neutral tone that highlighted your tan. Your hair was loose, with soft natural waves, and a touch of makeup that highlighted your eyes.

Before you left, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror, making sure everything was in its place.

You grabbed your bag and walked out, walking towards the Cameron house.

When you reached the door, you couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill. There was always something about that house that gave you a mix of nerves and anticipation. You knocked softly, and before you could wait too long, the door swung open. Sofia was there, beaming, with a wide smile and an energy that seemed contagious.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, hugging you tightly. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know where to start… there are so many things to do.”

“That’s what I’m here to do, calm you down and help you organize everything.” You hugged her back just as intensely, smiling. “First, breathe. Everything’s going to be okay. Today is your day, and you have to enjoy it.”

“I’ll try,” Sofia replied, giggling nervously as she led you inside. “But you know how I am.” If something goes wrong…

“Nothing is going to go wrong,” you interrupted her firmly. “Trust me. Now tell me, where do we start?”

Sofia led you to the kitchen, where there was an endless list of things to do: decorations, food, everything needed for a party that promised to be the event of the month.

When they finally finished, the sun was beginning to set behind the horizon. The house was impeccable and elegantly decorated. Sofia had taken care of every detail: lights were strategically hung to create a warm and luxurious atmosphere, while gold and silver tones dominated the place, reflecting the theme of the night. The atmosphere promised to be spectacular.

Sofia and you went up to her room together to get ready.

“I can’t believe everything is ready,” Sofia said as she opened the door to her closet. “I thought we would never make it.”

“See? I told you everything would turn out well,” you replied with a smile. “Now comes the best part: getting amazing.”

Sofia pulled out a long, silver-colored dress, fitted to her figure, with rhinestone details that captured the light in a mesmerizing way. While she changed, you approached your own selection of clothes that you had brought with you.

You chose a simple but elegant gold dress with thin straps that left your shoulders and back bare. It wasn’t the most impressive dress you’d ever worn, but for the occasion it was more than enough. You slid it smoothly down your body, adjusting it in place, and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“What do you think?” you asked, turning slightly to see your reflection.

Sofia, now in her silver dress, looked at you with a smile.

“You look beautiful, as always. That gold is perfect for you.”

You smiled, accepting the compliment, although deep down you still thought you could have chosen something more dazzling.

You sat in front of the mirror to fix your hair. You opted for soft, natural waves, which fell gracefully over your shoulders. You didn’t want anything too elaborate; just something that would complement the dress and enhance your face.

The makeup was simple but effective: a subtle eyeliner that highlighted your eyes, a touch of gold shadow to highlight the theme of the night, and lips in a nude tone that kept the look elegant but discreet. You made sure every detail was in place before standing up and putting the finishing touches on a pair of small, delicate earrings.

“Ready,” you said, turning to Sofia.

She looked at you with pride and excitement.

“We look amazing. Tonight is going to be perfect, I’m sorry.”

“Of course it will be,” you assured her as you both walked down the stairs. “Everything is ready, and you look spectacular. This is your night, Sof.”

The house was already beginning to fill with guests arriving one after another, dressed in matching gold and silver tones. Music floated through the air, and the lights danced softly, reflecting the luxury and exclusivity Sofia had wanted for her birthday.

As you watched everything unfold, a part of you felt calm. They had worked hard, and now it was time to enjoy.

The party was going on with a calm and elegant atmosphere. Guests moved between the decorated rooms, chatting, laughing, toasting Sofia. There was an enveloping calm that you liked; you felt comfortable, but there was also something in the air, a feeling that something could change at any moment.

You decided to take a walk around the mansion, observing the people, their gestures, their glances. You moved gracefully, with a drink in your hand, enjoying the atmosphere and that subtle feeling of being part of something special.

That was when you saw it.

Rafe was leaning against one of the walls, observing the crowd with an indecipherable expression. He didn't seem lost or bored, just... attentive. As if every movement around him had a meaning that only he could decipher.

You slowly approached him, until you were next to him.

"How was the party?" you asked him with a smile, breaking the silence between you.

Rafe turned his face slightly towards you. His blue eyes met yours for a moment, intense but calm.

"I'm enjoying myself," he replied, with that calm and confident tone, as if nothing in the world could alter it.

You nodded, and the smile remained on your face.

"Me too," you said. Silence settled between you two again, but it wasn't uncomfortable, it was as if words weren't necessary for a moment. It was just the two of you, amidst the distant murmur of the party.

Suddenly, you felt his gaze.

It wasn't a casual look. It was a lingering look, as if every detail of your face captured his attention. His eyes scanned every line, every shadow, every expression. It was an intense look, but not uncomfortable, almost as if he were in a daze, lost in that moment. There was no judgment or coldness, just something you couldn't quite define.

You noticed it. You felt it. But, to your surprise, it didn't make you nervous.

You didn't know how to feel about it. There was something intriguing about being watched like that, something that made you wonder what exactly he saw. So, almost without thinking, you looked at him too.

Your eyes searched for his. And for an instant that seemed eternal, they met. Two gazes that held each other, that understood each other without words, that explored something beyond the obvious. There was no noise around them. There was no one else at that moment.

Finally, they both separated their gazes, as if something invisible had reminded them that the world kept turning.

“Behind every beautiful thing, there is some kind of pain,” you said quietly, almost like a thought out loud.

Rafe looked at you again, this time with a slight glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He nodded slowly, as if those words resonated with something he himself understood, something he carried within.

There was nothing else to say at that moment. You gently stepped away, leaving the glass on a nearby table.

“I’m going to walk a little,” you told him, and he simply watched you as you walked away.

The fresh air greeted you as you stepped out into the garden. Each step took you away from the hustle and bustle of the party, but not from the feeling Rafe had left in you.

You walked slowly along the well-kept paths, surrounded by soft lights hanging from the trees, illuminating the path with a calm warmth. The sky was clear, and the stars twinkled softly, as if they were watching you too. You felt good, at peace, enjoying that moment of solitude, getting away from everything for a moment.

But you weren't alone for long.

You heard footsteps behind you, soft but firm. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. There was something unmistakable about Rafe's presence. A confident, calm air, but charged with something more, something that always seemed to throb beneath the surface.

He stood beside you without saying a word. There was no need to explain why he was there, or to ask him why he had decided to accompany you. He just did it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

They walked together, in silence. Neither of them felt the urge to fill the space with words. The night was enough. The soft sounds of the wind through the leaves, the crunch of gravel under their feet, and the occasional whisper of the breeze were enough company.

Rafe had his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed, but his eyes observed everything around him with that characteristic attention, as if every detail was important. Every now and then, his eyes would drift to you, though he didn't say anything.

There was something surprisingly comfortable about that shared silence. You didn't feel compelled to speak, to explain anything, to pretend anything. Rafe seemed to understand that, and you understood it too.

They walked along a path that bordered the garden, passing by a small pond where the reflection of the golden lights from the party sparkled in the water. You stopped for a moment, watching as the soft waves distorted the lights, creating dancing patterns. Rafe stopped beside you, watching the same thing.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you finally commented, breaking the silence, but with a soft voice, as if you didn’t want to disturb the calm of that moment.

Rafe nodded, a smile almost imperceptible on his face.

“Yes, it is.”

The silence returned, but this time it was different. It was a silence filled with understanding, with something that didn’t need to be said out loud. Both of you continued walking, slowly advancing through the garden.

At some point, his steps aligned perfectly with yours, as if walking together was something you had always done. There was no rush. You were just there, enjoying the night, the calm.

The silence continued between you, but at that moment, you felt it was time to go back, to get back to reality. You looked at Rafe, who was still walking beside you, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

“I think I should head back to the party,” you said, keeping your voice light, but with a small smile, “They’re going to miss you. I’ll come back later.”

Rafe looked at you then, a glint of understanding in his eyes. He didn’t seem upset, rather, it seemed like he had been waiting for you to say it. He nodded slightly and, without losing his calm, glanced up at the starry sky.

“You’re right.” His tone was relaxed, but there was a spark in his eyes that made it clear that you didn’t care much about the party or the others.

You both stopped in front of the garden entrance, as if you somehow knew that the walk had come to an end. The party continued in the distance, laughter and conversations floating in the air.

“I’ll see you later then,” Rafe said with a slight smile.

He took a step back, giving you room to turn around and head back into the hustle and bustle of the party.

With a small wave of his hand, you began to walk back.

“See you later,” you said as you walked away, still staring at him for a moment, knowing that even though you were physically walking away, somehow, the words that weren’t said between you would still be floating in the air.

Rafe stood there, watching you go, before turning around again and heading back to the party.

After you both returned to the party, the atmosphere had changed slightly. The music was still playing, but something in the air seemed lighter. People were gathered around the center table, where Sofia was at the front, surrounded by her friends, family, and loved ones. They were all waiting for the moment when she would blow out the candles, the perfect ending to their celebration.

The table was adorned with gold and silver details, like the theme of the party, and in the center, a large three-tiered cake dominated the stage. The candles glowed softly, with the light dancing over the smiling faces of everyone present. Sofia looked radiant, her dress shining under the lights of the room, and her eyes reflected a mix of excitement and gratitude.

Rafe approached you, a glass in his hand, and offered it to you with a discreet smile. It was clear that the tension between the two of you had not completely dissipated, but at that moment, everything seemed simpler, lighter. He raised his glass in your direction, waiting for you to toast with it.

“To Sofia,” he said in a soft tone, looking towards the table, where Sofia was already ready to blow out the candles.

You raised your glass as well, nodding with a smile. “To Sofia,” you repeated, feeling that the night, despite everything, had something special, something you couldn’t describe, but you knew deep down. You both toasted, clinking glasses with a small sound that resonated in the air.

Sofia, with her gaze full of hope, closed her eyes and blew out the candles. At that moment, everyone present kept a brief silence, waiting for her to make her wish. The bated breath in the room felt like a bubble about to burst, and then, as if everything had been calculated, Sofia opened her eyes and smiled.

“Thank you all for being here,” she said, her voice warm and full of emotion, looking at everyone present. “Thank you for this very special day.”

Applause filled the room, and the music took control of the night again, as people began to laugh and enjoy themselves again. Rafe, for his part, gave you one last look before diverting his attention to his group of friends.

The night continued, filled with laughter and toasts.

The next day, the sun shone brightly on the mansion and the atmosphere remained relaxed, almost as if the party the day before had been just a distant dream. The pool sparkled invitingly under the midday heat, the clear water reflecting the clear sky. You had already begun to enjoy the day, swimming and letting yourself be carried away by the calm of the place. The water surrounded you, cool and refreshing, as you swam back and forth, enjoying the peace of those solitary moments.

Rafe and Sofia were in the lounger area, almost ignoring you in their own world.

After a while, you decided to get out of the water. You laid down on one of the lounge chairs, feeling the sun on your skin. But soon, bored of just sitting there doing nothing, you got up and headed over to the pool table. You grabbed a cue and, in order to distract yourself, decided to play a little, not really interested in winning, just to pass the time.

It wasn't long before Rafe approached you, watching with a slight smile on his face.

"Do you dare to play a game?" he asked, also taking a cue and adjusting his shirt a little.

Sofia, from her spot by the pool, watched the two of you, somewhat distant, but not enough to not notice how you interacted. It could have been her curious look, or perhaps the way her body was slightly tense, but at that moment, something seemed different.

The game started with laughter and small jokes between you and Rafe. He, always a bit of a tease, would try to tease you with some comment or make you lose focus, but all in good spirits. You realized that, at that moment, there was no pressure. There was no tension, just the sound of the cue hitting the balls, the laughter and the words that intertwined naturally.

Meanwhile, Sofia stood there, watching in silence.

Rafe, more focused on the game than anything else, made a couple of jokes to you while he won it, but you weren't intimidated. You laughed, both at his attitude and at the little tricks he tried, although without being really competitive, which kept the atmosphere light.

At one point, your cue missed on a crucial shot and Rafe couldn't help but laugh.

"That's the best you've got?" he said, taking his turn to give it the final blow.

Finally, after a few rounds, the match ended and Rafe emerged victorious, albeit with a slight hint of irony, as he knew you had let him win a couple of times just to not make the moment too tense.

Sofia approached, as if she had been waiting for them to finish so she could resume the chat between the three of you.

The day progressed slowly, the sun shining brightly on the pool and the gardens of the mansion. The air was getting warmer and warmer, the atmosphere relaxed with soft music in the background. Sofia and you had laughed together, enjoying the little jokes.

As the sun began to set, dyeing the sky orange and pink hues, Sofia received a call. Her face changed slightly as she looked at her phone, and after a few seconds of conversation, she told you that she had to leave, that her family needed her.

“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked, without thinking too much about what you were saying. An impulse, a need to not let her go alone.

But Sofia looked at you with a smile, her voice soft but firm.

“It’s not necessary. Stay here, enjoy the day,” she replied with a calm that almost surprised you.

So, without being able to do much else, you watched her leave, watching her walk away down the path that led to the entrance of the mansion. You stood there, watching the sunset for a long moment. Something in the air, in the stillness of the place, made you feel uncomfortable, as if everything was about to change. The house suddenly seemed empty, and the sound of your own footsteps echoed in the silence that settled around it.

With the intention of not staying there thinking about what you didn’t want to think about, you decided to go out to the backyard, looking for a distraction. Maybe just a little fresh air would help you calm the anxiety that was beginning to grow inside you.

The patio was quiet, with the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze and the soft murmur of the pool water, but the quiet only served to make you feel even more nervous. You walked a little further, approaching the trees and shadows of the garden, trying to escape a situation that made you feel uncomfortable.

It was then that you heard his footsteps. Rafe, who had not left you alone all day, appeared behind you, his elongated figure projecting over the grass. At first you didn't say anything, as if the silence between the two of you was some kind of invisible wall that you didn't even want to touch.

"Are you going to stay here alone?" Rafe asked, his voice soft, but with something in it that made you turn to look at him. He didn't seem to notice the tension in the air, or maybe he felt it too, but didn't know how to handle it.

And it was at that moment, when his eyes met yours, that everything became more intense. A simple exchange of glances turned into something deeper, something that both of you seemed to understand without the need for words. He was close, close enough for you to feel his presence. His gaze, once calm, now seemed charged with something else. You couldn't say exactly what it was, but it was there, like an invisible current that silently united you.

You both stood there, as if suspended in time, not knowing whether to move forward or back. You wanted to break that silence, but the truth was that you didn't know how. The fact that he was so close, his soft breathing, his gaze fixed on you, made everything much more complicated.

Rafe took a step towards you, without saying a word, as if he was looking for something in your expression, something that would make you give in. Your body reacted before your mind could process it, taking a step back, but not really moving away from him. It was as if gravity had brought them together in that instant, an invisible force pulling them both to the same place. The tension was palpable, like a thin thread that tightened with every millimeter of space they shared.

You felt trapped in the moment, as if your thoughts were caught between the need to flee and the need to stay there. And although you didn't want to admit it, you were attracted to him, and that terrified you. Something about his closeness, his presence, made you feel vulnerable, but at the same time, something in you wanted him not to move away.

Rafe, it seemed, felt it too. He stared at you a little longer, as if he was waiting for you to make the first move, or as if he was undecided between saying something or simply remaining suspended in the air in that moment. Finally, it was he who broke the silence with a slight smile, a smile that, although it seemed relaxed, hid something deeper, something you knew you couldn't decipher.

“I don't know what we're doing here.” he said quietly, as if he didn't want to break the spell that had fallen between the two of you.

You looked at each other, unable to formulate a response, and in that instant, the gap between the two of you closed. Without saying another word, you turned around and began to walk, breaking that moment of tension, knowing that what you felt was not something you could control or explain. But, at the same time, you couldn't deny that a part of you didn't want that moment to end.

The courtyard no longer seemed so welcoming, and you no longer knew whether to leave, stay, or face it. But something told you that tonight, things would not be the same as before.

The night was passing slowly, silence enveloping the atmosphere. Sofia had not yet returned, and although you had tried not to think about it, there was something in you that already predicted that things would change. You did not know exactly how or why, but you felt a pressure in the air.

Hours passed while you waited for her return, but when you finally received her message, you knew that everything had fallen apart. “I will not return tonight. I have things to resolve.” The words floated before your eyes, and something inside you tightened. You knew that the situation was becoming more complicated, and at the same time, you felt a strange mix of relief and nervousness. You were left alone, not knowing what to do, with that feeling that everything you had been avoiding was finally going to happen.

You looked at Rafe, who had been silent in some corner of the house. He seemed so oblivious to what was going through your mind, but there was also something in his presence that attracted you, something you could no longer ignore.

“Sofia won’t be back tonight,” you said, trying to sound calm, but your voice was shaking a little. “I think I’ll go.”

Rafe looked at you with a slightly crooked smile, as if he had been waiting for that answer. The sparkle in his eyes, the slight glint of amusement in his expression, made you hesitate for a moment.

“Don’t you want to go out for a while?”

His invitation was like a temptation, a soft voice that made you reconsider. It was hard to resist the idea of escaping from everything, of leaving behind the tension that was building in the air, of feeling a small spark of freedom, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

You, knowing it wasn’t the right thing to do, hesitated for a moment. How wrong could it be? After all, you weren’t doing anything “serious,” you were just a couple of friends, right? The answer seemed more like an excuse than a justification, but still, something inside you pushed you to say:

“That doesn’t sound bad.”

Rafe smiled immediately, and the way his eyes sparkled made your heart beat a little faster, but you forced yourself to calm down. You didn't know if you were fooling yourself, but the night was young, and the world seemed more accessible at the moment.

The two of you walked outside, the city streets deserted and quiet under the starry sky. The moonlight illuminated everything softly, and for some reason, that silence was comforting. The escape you were looking for surrounded you, and with each step, the tension in the air faded, although you knew that, deep down, there was no escape from what was really happening between the two of you.

You didn't talk much as you walked, but the company was enough. The sound of your footsteps and their calm breathing were the only things you could hear, and yet, there was a silent burden, something you both tried to ignore, but it was there, palpable in the air. Something in their gazes, something in their closeness.

As time went on, aimlessly, they began to laugh, to chat about trivial things, as if trying not to think about the obvious would help them relax. You realized that, for a moment, everything seemed easier.

It was when the first lights of dawn began to touch the horizon, that something in the atmosphere became almost palpable, a touch, a spark. They both found themselves standing close, too close to each other, as if an invisible force attracted them in a way that neither could deny.

You could hear their breathing, ragged, almost synchronized, as if at that moment nothing else existed in the world but the two of them. They were so close that you could feel their warmth, their presence, and that small line between what was right and what was not blurred.

You felt unable to move, as if everything you had been thinking about, everything you had wanted to avoid, was about to break. The urge to reach out to him, to follow the desire that was growing between you two, was stronger than ever. But something inside you made you stop. A clear thought, a reminder of what really mattered to you.

“This is wrong, Rafe,” you said in a shaky but firm voice as you took a step back, looking out at the horizon. “We should stay friends. I don’t want to complicate things. It’s not what we need.”

Silence settled between the two of you, and he stared at you. His eyes, which had previously been bright with amusement, now held something else, something like a mix of understanding and perhaps a bit of disappointment.

“Are we friends?” he asked, almost with a sad smile, as if he wasn’t sure of the answer.

You stayed silent for a moment, searching for the answer in your own feelings. Finally, you decided to give the answer that, at that moment, seemed the most sensible.

“I guess so,” you said, a sigh escaping your lips.

Rafe nodded slowly, as if he finally understood something he had been searching for in you.

“That’s good to know,” he murmured, and for a moment, everything between you seemed to calm down.

But, you knew everything had changed. You couldn’t just go back to how things were before. Without another word, you turned around, feeling the weight of the goodbye, but unable to help it.

“I’m leaving alone,” you said, without looking back.

Rafe didn’t say anything, although hesitation could be seen in his eyes. He didn’t want to let you go, but deep down he knew he couldn’t keep insisting. For some reason, in the end, he didn't say anything, he just watched as you walked away.

You returned to your house, the cold morning air caressing your skin, and although you felt like something had changed between you and him, you also knew that, somehow, you had made the right decision. Although, deep down, you wondered if it really was.

After what happened that night with Rafe, something inside you changed. An invisible barrier rose, separating you from him and, consequently, from Sofia as well. The awkwardness that was once just a spark had now become a smoldering fire, burning inside you every time you thought about him, about how close you were, about how you almost crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed.

You decided that the best thing to do was to walk away. Guilt weighed on you like a burden you couldn't let go of, and although you wanted to pretend that everything was okay, your conscience wouldn't let you rest. You made up excuses not to see them. When Sofia invited you out, to the beach, the pool, or any other gathering, you always had something else to do.

—Sorry, I have to study.

—I can't, I feel a little bad today.

—I have to help my mom with something.

The excuses piled up, one after another, until Sofia started to notice. At first, she believed you. She was your friend, she trusted you. But after several weeks of evasions, her messages started to sound different, more insistent, almost worried.

—Are you okay? We haven't seen you lately.

—Strange that you don't want to come... we miss you.

—Are you avoiding something?

You responded evasively, trying not to raise suspicions, but you knew that Sofia wasn't stupid. However, you preferred to deal with her concern rather than face what was really tormenting you: Rafe.

He, on the other hand, seemed unchanging. There was no change in his behavior, at least not visible. He didn't seem to feel the same discomfort or guilt that haunted you. He would send you messages from time to time, casual, as if nothing had happened between you.

—Are you going to the party tonight?

—Are you okay? I haven't seen you lately.

—Sofia asked about you, I told her you're probably busy.

Sometimes you read his messages and ignored them. You didn't want to fall into that dynamic of responding, of pretending everything was normal. But other times, the temptation was stronger, and you responded, although coldly, without giving rise to anything else.

—I'm fine.

—I don't think I'm going.

—Thanks for letting me know.

Each word of yours was measured, each message carefully worded to not lead to a deeper conversation. But Rafe didn't seem affected. He didn't chase you, he didn't insist, and that made you even angrier.

How could he be so calm after all? How could he act like nothing had happened while you were drowning in guilt? What hurt you most was that, deep down, you knew that was his nature. Rafe Cameron didn't feel remorse. He never had. He was always like that: cold, calculating, and seemingly incapable of feeling guilt.

And that made you even angrier. Because how could you be angry at him for being exactly the way he always was? There was a reason he always looked down on you, there was a reason he always looked at you with that mix of arrogance and disdain. Because to him, nothing really mattered. He wasn't afraid to cross boundaries, because to Rafe, boundaries were just an abstract concept that he could ignore when it suited him.

You felt caught in a contradiction. You hated him for not feeling anything, but at the same time, a part of you envied that indifference. Because while you carried the weight of what could have happened, he kept going, as if you were just another person in his life.

There were days when you wanted to confront him, ask him directly why he didn't feel the same as you, why he didn't seem affected. But the fear of facing his indifference stopped you. Because you knew that if you did, his answer would be cold, sharp, and maybe make you feel worse.

And so, the weeks kept passing. You avoided any place where you might run into him. If you knew Sofia and Rafe were going to be at a party, you just didn’t go. If you heard his name in conversation, you walked away before they could talk about him anymore. Even on social media, you avoided looking at anything that might remind you of that night, that closeness, that moment you almost crossed paths.

But despite all your efforts, Rafe was still there, in the back of your mind. He was like a shadow you couldn’t erase, a presence that followed you, even when he wasn’t around.

One afternoon, as you were checking your phone, a new message from him popped up on your screen. You stared at it for a moment, hesitating to open it. Just seeing it made your heart beat faster, a mix of anxiety and something you didn’t want to admit.

—You’re really quiet lately. Everything okay?

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to decide whether to respond or not. You knew a part of you wanted to, wanted to keep that connection, even if it was minimal. But you also knew that every message, every interaction, only made things more complicated.

Finally, you left the message unanswered, turned off your phone, and sighed. The conflict was still there, inside you, a battle between desire and reason, between what you felt for Rafe and what you knew was right. And all the while, he was still Rafe: untouchable, indifferent, and always one step ahead.

You had built up a routine of avoidance: excuses for not going out, cold and calculated messages, avoiding meetings where you knew he would be. You had decided that the best thing for you was to keep your distance and protect both your heart and your friendship with Sofia. You didn't want to be "the other." You didn't want to be the reason everything fell apart.

But Rafe seemed to have other plans.

He kept looking for you. His messages became more frequent, his gazes more intense every time you met by chance. And when you avoided him, he found a way to close the distance, to make you feel his presence, as if he knew exactly which buttons to push to make you doubt your decisions.

One afternoon, while you were at a local café, enjoying a moment alone, you saw his figure approaching. Tall, self-assured, with that look that always seemed to carry a dangerous mix of arrogance and attraction. There was no escape this time.

“Can I sit down?” Rafe asked, even though he was already dragging the chair in front of you.

You sighed, trying to keep your composure.

“Sure, but I don’t stay long,” you replied nonchalantly.

He smiled, as if he perfectly understood the game you were playing. He knew you were trying to keep him at bay, and it seemed to amuse him more than it put him off.

“Are you hiding from me?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the table and staring at you.

“No. Why would I?” you replied, avoiding his eyes as you stirred your coffee.

His gaze burned into you. It was as if he could see right through you, piercing through every one of your carefully raised defenses. You knew you shouldn’t fall for his game, but with every passing second you felt your self-control slowly crumble.

“I don’t know… I barely see you lately. Sofia notices it too.” His tone was casual, but there was something else there, a hidden insinuation.

“I’ve been busy,” you said, shrugging.

The silence stretched on, and when you finally looked up, you found him watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was something in his eyes, a mix of desire, frustration, and… defiance. Like he was waiting for you to be the one to break that barrier.

“You should focus on Sofia,” you murmured, diverting the conversation back to where you wanted to take it. “She’s the one who matters.”

Rafe leaned a little closer to you, closing the distance.

“What if it’s not just Sofia?” he whispered.

Your hands tightened around the cup. That line, that edge you’d both been skirting since that night, was dangerously close again. And the worst part of it all was that, even though you knew you should walk away, part of you wanted to know what would happen if you didn’t.

“We can’t, Rafe. I don’t want to be “the other.” I’m not going to ruin what I have with Sofia for… this. “Your voice was firm, but there was a barely perceptible tremor in your words.

He was silent for a moment, studying every expression on your face. He didn’t seem upset or disappointed. On the contrary, he seemed intrigued, as if your words were a challenge rather than a refusal.

“For this?” he repeated with a half smile.

“For whatever this is,” you clarified, trying to sound confident.

Rafe sighed, but didn’t move away. On the contrary, he rested a hand on the table, almost brushing yours, so close that you could feel the warmth of his skin.

“What if it’s not what you think?” he asked quietly. “What if we can handle it without ruining anything?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the emotions that threatened to overflow. You wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that he could control himself, that you could keep everything in order, but you knew that things were never that simple.

“I can’t risk it,” you said at last, pulling your hand away and breaking contact. “I don’t want to lose her. Or myself.”

Rafe nodded slowly, but his eyes were still fixed on you. There was something in his gaze that wouldn’t go away: desire mixed with stubbornness. Like this was just a chapter in a story he was determined to continue.

“Okay,” he murmured, getting up from his chair. “But you can’t walk away forever.”

You stayed silent as he left, leaving an air heavy with tension and a racing heartbeat in your chest. You knew he was right. You couldn’t walk away forever. But for now, you promised yourself that you would keep trying, because if you got close again, you knew that this time you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

That same day, you returned home with your heart tangled in a tangle of emotions. The tension you had been avoiding was no longer something you could ignore. You felt the need to talk to someone, to find clarity in the midst of the chaos that had broken out in your mind. However, you chose to lock yourself in your room, hoping that the silence of the night would give you the answers you were looking for.

But your mother didn't let you isolate yourself for long.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly from the door, peeking in with a curious, motherly look. She had noticed your behavior in the last few days. The constant excuses, the long sighs, the nights when you seemed to be in another world.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m just tired,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you settled into bed.

She wasn’t fooled. She walked into your room, closed the door behind her, and sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes, full of wisdom and tenderness, looked at you with that mix of understanding and concern that only a mother could have.

“Honey, I know you too well. Something’s going on. Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed. You knew she wasn’t going to give up, and somehow that comforted you. You took a moment before answering.

“It’s complicated, Mom. I don’t know how to explain it without it sounding… bad.” You looked down, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

She waited patiently, giving you the time you needed. When you finally raised your head, you found in her gaze an invitation to vent.

“There’s someone…” you began, choosing your words carefully. “Someone I shouldn’t be with. He’s a friend’s boyfriend, and… I don’t know how it happened, but everything is a mess now. I try to get away, but it seems like the more I try, the harder it gets. It’s like he doesn’t want to let me go.”

Your mother nodded slowly, processing each word. She didn’t interrupt you, she just let you talk.

“I know it’s wrong, and I feel guilty, but at the same time… there’s something about him that I can’t ignore. It’s like there’s something between us that shouldn’t be there, but I can’t help it either.”

Your mother looked at you with an expression that was a mix of empathy and nostalgia. “I understand more than you think,” she said with a soft smile. “I went through something similar when I was young.”

You were shocked. “You? Really?” you asked, incredulous. You had never imagined your mother in a similar situation.

She nodded, settling herself better on the bed. There was a sparkle in her eyes, as if she was remembering a fragment of her own youth.

“Yes, before I met your father, there was someone… someone who made me feel alive, who shook my world in ways I had never experienced. He was charming, ambitious, and yes, he had a lot of money.” She laughed softly. “But he wasn’t the person I was supposed to be with. It was all intense, but not always intense is the best for you.”

You looked at her curiously, as if you were seeing a side of her you had never known.

“And what happened?” you asked, intrigued.

She sighed, as if the memory took her back to those days. “In the end, I realized I couldn’t live in that whirlwind. There was a lot of fire, but not enough to build something lasting. And then your father came along. He was different. Calmer, more stable… but real. And I realized that was what I needed.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “So you had a rich boyfriend too, that you left for love?.” you joked, trying to lighten the conversation.

Your mother laughed, the warm sound filling the room. “It seems like it’s a tradition, doesn’t it?” she replied humorously. “But money isn’t everything, honey. Love is a crazy thing. Sometimes it takes you down paths you don’t expect, and other times it makes you see that what you really need is right in front of you, even if it’s not what you had imagined.”

You stayed silent, reflecting on her words. It was strange to think of your mother going through something similar, but it also made you feel less alone. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had felt that confusion, that forbidden attraction that seemed to have no way out.

“So what do I do?” you finally asked, seeking advice.

She looked at you tenderly and stroked your hair. “Do what you feel is right for you. Don’t punish yourself for feeling, but don’t lose yourself in something that could hurt you either. Sometimes walking away is the hardest thing, but also the most necessary thing.

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight on your chest lighten for a moment at least. Maybe, given time, you could find your own path, one that didn’t leave you trapped between what you wanted and what was right.

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cece693 · 1 month ago

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Cece!!!! drop another fic and my life is yours!!!!!!

I love the joker fic you wrote. I love love love it. Please i humbly request that you maybe write a part 2. I really enjoyed it.

Please and thank you <3

Painted Devotion Pt. 2

pairing: the joker x male reader tags: harley quinn appearance, she's jay's wingwoman, never underestimate a girl's devotion to the crazy clown, kidnapping, forced to admit feelings

You thought you’d heard it all before. The Joker had been oddly insistent the last time you fought—proclaiming in that maddening cackle of his that he loved you. You brushed it off as another of his twisted jokes, something to keep you off-balance in the heat of battle. Heroes don’t fall for their arch-nemeses, right?

After that night, you did what any good, cape-wearing hero would do: you ignored it. Weeks passed. You put more thugs behind bars, broke up a few shady deals, and spent your evenings patrolling the city’s rooftops. Whenever the Joker’s name came up, you responded with the usual calm detachment. If the clown was serious, you reasoned, he’d show up again soon enough.

It turned out you weren’t wrong, but it wasn’t the Joker himself who paid you a visit first.

It all went down late on a Tuesday evening, when the city’s neon lights glowed under a cloudy sky. You jumped from building to building, scanning the streets below for trouble—typical hero business—when a sudden whack against your head turned everything to black.

You came to your senses strapped to a battered office chair in a musty old warehouse. Why were these villains always obsessed with warehouses? Blinking away the starbursts in your vision, you looked up to see the beaming face of Harley Quinn.

“Took ya long enough!” she chirped, tapping a bat against her shoulder. “I was thinkin’ you’d never wake up.”

You winced, testing the ropes around your wrists. “I don’t suppose you’d consider untying me, Harley?”

She only threw her head back in a bright, almost musical laugh. “Aw, you’re adorable—but no. Listen,” she leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief, “I need you to see somethin’. And I know you’re all buddy-buddy with logic and morals and justice, so I figured I’d have to knock you out first to get ya here.”

Before you could protest, she hopped behind the chair and gave it a firm shove. You were forced to roll along the cracked concrete floor, deeper into the warehouse. Doors creaked. Muffled laughter (and maybe a scream or two) echoed down some corridor. Eventually, Harley kicked open a metal door and shoved you inside.

The room was…Well, let’s just say the décor put your most devoted fans’ ‘Wall of Weird’ scrapbooks to shame. You saw your face plastered on almost every surface—pictures from tabloids, newspaper clippings, freeze-frames from TV news. Some were ringed by messy hearts in red marker. A few were dotted with random notes, scrawled in that unmistakable loopy handwriting: “My favorite hero.” “Do-gooder with a spine.” “Ugh, I love to hate him.”

At the center of it all, like some twisted shrine, sat the Joker himself. Except…he looked different. His face was devoid of makeup, pale skin showing stubble along his jawline. The vibrant green hair was half faded, revealing scruffy brownish roots. His clothes were wrinkled and rumpled, like he’d been wearing the same outfit for days (and by the smell, he probably had). He stared blankly at the collage of your photos on the wall, barely acknowledging your entrance.

Your eyes flicked around the room. “What is this?”

Harley prodded the back of your chair again, rolling you closer. “This is our problem, handsome. Mistah J’s been moping around for weeks—weeks!—all ‘cuz you’re treatin’ him like the punchline to a bad joke. No pun intended.”

Still bleary-eyed, you caught the Joker’s gaze. He lifted his head only slightly, half-lidded eyes meeting yours. There was something—dare you say it—sad about him.

“You okay there, Joker?” you ventured, voice hesitant.

“Okay?!” The Joker’s voice cracked in a mockery of his usual mania. “Oh, yes, I’m marvelous, darling. Nothing like heartbreak to add a dash of * zest * to life.” His sarcasm dripped, but the spark in his eye was faded.

Harley sighed, pulling a collapsible chair (because apparently she was prepared) out from the corner and flopping down in front of you. “All right, kiddos, gather ‘round. Therapy time. I’ve been watchin’ Dr. Phil reruns, so I’m basically an expert.” She clapped her hands, then pointed the bat in your direction. “Now, let’s address the big, honkin’ elephant in the room: What’s the deal with you ignorin’ my puddin’ after he confessed his oh-so-genuine feelin’s, hmm?”

Caught off guard, you just stared. “What do you want me to say, Harley? He literally told me in the middle of a fight that he…that he loved me.”

At that, the Joker—still slumped in the makeshift shrine—rolled his eyes. “So that’s what’s got you all twisted, is it? You can’t possibly fathom that the Clown Prince of Crime might have genuine emotions?” He offered a weak, mocking laugh, but it turned into more of a pathetic cough. “Ridiculous.”

You shifted in your chair, still unable to free your wrists from the ropes. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I just—didn’t want to engage with…this.” Your eyes flicked around the shrine. “I mean, look at this place.”

Harley tsked, crossing her legs. “Now, that ain’t so nice. Mistah J put a lotta care into it.”

Joker’s mouth twitched, as though a grin was trying to emerge but couldn’t quite make it. “I tried not to, you know. Tried not to let you worm your way into my chaotic heart.” He gave a theatrical sigh. “But there you are every time I close my eyes.”

You felt a flush threaten your cheeks. “Well, you’re not exactly easy to forget either.”

“Aha!” Harley pointed her bat at you triumphantly. “Progress!” She scribbled an imaginary note on her open palm. “You acknowledge you can’t forget Joker. Step one: acceptance of repressed feelings.”

“Harley, stop reading into every single—”

“Shh!” She pressed a finger to her lips, spinning her bat like a pen. “We’re in therapy. No interrupting.”

You groaned but stayed quiet.

“Now.” Harley turned to the Joker. “Mistah J, it seems like your love life’s gotten messy. You can’t keep starin’ at that collage. Gotta talk it out. Go on, say something sweet.”

The Joker gave another drab cough, then locked eyes with you, his voice quiet and oddly sincere. “I meant what I said,” he began. “For all the times we’ve danced our little dance, you’re the only one who’s ever made me second-guess my own madness. I hate it—and I love it, all the same.”

The room felt eerily still. You swallowed, faint warmth creeping into your chest. “You love that I chase you around the city, busting your plans?”

He shrugged. “I love that you bother to. No one else sees me the way you do. You try to understand my next step. You push back. You hold a mirror up to all my chaos.”

“It’s more than that, though,” Harley interjected, not-so-subtly. “Right, Mistah J?” She gave him a pointed look.

The Joker released a long, melodramatic sigh. “Yes, yes. I find you utterly fascinating beyond the usual cat-and-mouse business.” A half-smile tugged at his lips. “And you have those hero’s eyes; bright with idealism. It’s both nauseating and addictively sweet.”

A flicker of genuine sympathy welled up in you, despite your better judgment. “What do you want from me?”

He rose to his feet, standing unsteadily but with some of his old swagger returning. “Just…don’t pretend it never happened. This feeling—whatever it is. If you hate me for it, so be it. But ignoring me completely?” He let out a soft, bitter laugh. “That’s more torture than Arkham’s solitary confinement.”

You glanced at Harley, who was watching with rapt attention, bat propped under her chin like she was enthralled in a rom-com. Then you looked back at the Joker, disheveled and oddly vulnerable in his half-washed face and patchy green hair. With a deep breath, you admitted, “I…can’t ignore you. You’re in my head, too. Maybe not in the same way, but—”

“Oh, hush.” He cut you off with a wave of his hand, yet there was a trace of relief in his voice. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Harley squealed in delight, springing up from her chair. “Then that’s settled, right? You’re gonna stop mopin’, Mistah J, and you—” she pointed to you, “—quit actin’ like none of this is happening.”

She spun around the room, picking up a pair of scissors with a flourish. “Now, the therapy rules say if a hostage is no longer needed, I free ‘em.” She winked, then came over to snip the ropes at your wrists. “Ta-da! You two can figure out the rest yourselves.”

With your wrists free, you stood, rubbing the raw lines where the rope had been. Harley strolled off, humming some jaunty tune, leaving you and the Joker alone in the messy hideout. An awkward silence fell between you. Then the Joker nudged a stray newspaper clipping—one featuring a huge, front-page photo of you—underneath a loose pile to hide it.

You met his eyes. They still had that glint of madness, but a note of exhaustion, too. “Listen, Joker,” you started softly. “I’m not saying everything’s changed, just because—”

“Don’t,” he cut in, though his voice was calmer than usual. “Don’t try to define it. It’s not a fairy tale. It’s just…us.”

“…Right,” you said. “But maybe we could handle it better than, you know, kidnapping, murder, property damage, etc.”

He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “We’ll see. Old habits die hard.”

Before you could formulate a witty retort, he leaned in, surprising you with a swift, almost gentle press of his lips against yours. The sensation was oddly quiet, lacking the usual theatrical flourish you associated with him. Just a moment, then gone.

His grin returned—small, but unmistakably the Joker. “Consider that my official invitation not to ignore me next time.”

Your cheeks flared hot, but you managed a smirk. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

And with that, he stepped aside, allowing you a path to the door. There might have been a million unresolved questions swirling in your head—where do we go from here? Is this a trick? Am I supposed to arrest him now?—but in that instant, you simply took a shaky breath and turned away.

You left the hideout feeling strangely lighter. You still had your duty, and he still had his mania, but at least the air between you wasn’t suffocating with unspoken truths. And behind you, in that dingy warehouse, you knew he was probably already painting his face with renewed gusto—maybe even re-dying his hair that trademark green.

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rootedinrevisions · 5 months ago

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Old Flames, New Wounds

SUMMARY: Years after a bitter breakup, you find yourself face-to-face with Jake “Hangman” Seresin at The Hard Deck, reigniting all the anger and unresolved feelings you'd buried.

PROMPT: "I could help you feel better."

KINK: Hate Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT. (P in V sex)

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

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The last thing you ever told Jake Seresin was that you hated him. And you meant it.

That smug, cocky pilot had taken what little spark your short-lived relationship had and snuffed it out with his dismissive attitude. He called you “too much,” oversharing, saying you revealed more about yourself than a “new girlfriend” should. The accusation still stung every time you thought about it, as if wanting to connect was a crime in his world. You, in turn, made it clear that he was nothing more than a flirt—a man who couldn’t resist checking out other women right in front of you, even on dates. You told him off, and before he could toss another patronizing smirk your way, you let him have it, “I hate you, and I hope I never have to see your stupid face again.”

And for years, you didn’t.

That is, until tonight.

You were settled at The Hard Deck, your favorite spot at the bar, engrossed in the latest thriller you’d picked up, occasionally chatting with Penny between chapters. It was a quiet evening. The salty sea air was soothing, and the bar’s familiar warmth offered a welcome break from the world outside. At least, it was peaceful, until you heard that voice.

That same, infuriating drawl you’d spent years trying to forget. Your stomach dropped as you turned in your barstool and saw him. Sure enough, there was Jake “Hangman” Seresin, laughing it up and playing darts with his buddies like he hadn’t left a trail of bitterness in his wake.

You turned back around, pulling your book closer, determined to avoid him. You had no interest in rekindling any form of conversation with him, let alone acknowledging his presence. But of course, you weren’t that lucky.

You could feel his eyes on you before you heard his footsteps. When Penny rang the bell after an older guy made a fool of himself, Jake approached the bar to order another round. His gaze zeroed in on you, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Well, well, well,” came that smooth, too-familiar voice. “If it isn’t the woman who swore she never wanted to see my face again.”

You clenched your jaw, your eyes narrowing as you met his smug grin. “And I meant it,” you muttered under your breath, trying to focus on your book.

Jake chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Still sticking with that story, huh? You sure you're not just a little happy to see me? Admit it—missed this face just a bit.”

You scoffed, setting your book down and looking at him, deadpan. “I’m serious, Seresin. Seeing your face again is like getting hit by a truck I didn’t see coming.”

Jake smirked, leaning against the bar with casual arrogance. “Aw, c’mon, sweetheart. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

Your blood boiled at the way he called you "sweetheart." He hadn’t earned the right to use nicknames, not after what had gone down between you two.

“What’s harsh,” you shot back, “is the fact that you’re still under the impression I care about anything you have to say.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “That a challenge?”

Before you could snap back, Penny interrupted, sliding him his drinks and giving you a look that said Don’t let him get under your skin. You took a breath, trying to calm the fire building inside you. But Jake wasn’t done.

“Still got that attitude I see. No wonder things didn’t work out between us,” he teased, his voice just loud enough for some of the others to overhear.

Your patience snapped. “You’re right, Seresin. It didn’t work out because you couldn’t go five minutes without checking out some random woman while we were out. I guess commitment wasn’t your strong suit.”

The mood around the bar shifted as people started to pick up on the personal nature of your jabs. Rooster, sitting nearby, exchanged glances with Coyote, and even Penny gave Jake a warning look.

But Jake, being Jake, didn’t back down.

“Funny,” he mused, “I don’t remember you being the poster child for a great girlfriend either. A little too eager to unload all your baggage on date number two.”

That stung. Hard. The words hit you like a slap to the face, and for a moment, you were speechless. But the hurt quickly morphed into anger.

“At least I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed asshole who could barely hold a conversation unless it was about himself,” you shot back, your voice sharper now.

Jake's smirk faltered, and for a moment, something more than cocky amusement flickered in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that infuriating grin once again.

Before things could escalate further, Phoenix stepped in, laying a hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“Cool it, Hangman,” she said, her tone firm. “We’re here to have a good time, not start a bar fight.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at Jake, who simply shrugged, looking like he was enjoying every second of getting under your skin. “No fight here. Just some honest conversation between two... old friends.”

“Yeah, old friends,” you muttered bitterly, grabbing your book again, though your mind was far from the words on the page. The tension lingered, thick in the air, as Jake gave you one last glance before heading back to his game of darts.

But you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

You tried to focus on your book, but the words blurred on the page, your mind still spinning from the last encounter with Jake. How could he waltz back into your life like nothing had happened, that same irritating smirk plastered on his face? The memory of his smug tone and condescending remarks gnawed at you, making it impossible to concentrate.

You took a sip of your drink, trying to shake it off, but his voice and presence lingered in the back of your mind. It didn’t help that every so often you could hear his laugh—loud and obnoxious—coming from across the room as he played darts with his friends. You gritted your teeth and forced yourself to keep reading, anything to ignore him.

For a while, it worked. He left you alone, and you tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t worth the space in your head. The bar around you carried on as usual, people laughing, talking, music playing. But peace was short-lived.

About half an hour later, you heard him again, this time back at the bar. He was ordering another round for the guys, and you kept your head down, praying he wouldn’t notice you. You didn’t want to deal with him again, not after the way the last conversation went.

Just as you turned the page of your book, you heard a giggle next to you. A girl, clearly tipsy, leaned over the bar, swaying a little as she tried to catch her balance.

“Oh my god,” she slurred, her eyes wide as she whispered to her friend. “That guy... he’s been looking at me all night. He’s so cute.”

Curious, you glanced up and followed her gaze, and sure enough, it was Jake. He was standing at the end of the bar, waiting for his drinks, casually leaning against the counter as his eyes swept over the room—apparently landing on the girl next to you.

Your stomach twisted with irritation. Of course, Jake was back to his old tricks.

The girl’s friend giggled back, but you couldn’t help yourself. Before you could think it through, the words slipped out.

“Trust me,” you muttered under your breath, just loud enough for the girl to hear, “he’s not the kind of guy you want to go home with.”

The tipsy girl blinked at you in confusion, her smile faltering slightly. “What do you mean?”

You leaned in slightly, your voice low. “I mean, he’s a flirt. He’ll sweet talk you, charm you, but once you’re hooked, he loses interest. He’s not worth the trouble.”

Unfortunately, you underestimated how close Jake was. He clearly overheard you because the next thing you knew, he was standing right behind you, his voice dripping with faux innocence. “Oh really?” he drawled. “That what you think of me?”

You turned in your stool, and there he was—his green eyes glinting with amusement, that same cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Of course, he’d heard you.

“You’re eavesdropping now?” you shot back, refusing to let him intimidate you.

Jake raised an eyebrow, pretending to be hurt. “Just happened to catch a warning about myself. Thought I’d see if you still felt the same way after all this time.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Still hate me, sweetheart?”

You crossed your arms, glaring up at him. “That hasn’t changed, Seresin.”

The girl next to you, sensing the tension, awkwardly shuffled away, leaving you and Jake alone at the bar. He took her place, casually leaning against the counter again, his smirk never wavering.

“Funny,” he mused, “I don’t remember doing anything that terrible to deserve all this hate.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That’s because you’re too self-absorbed to notice.”

Jake tilted his head, a faux-thoughtful expression on his face. “Self-absorbed, huh? Are you sure you weren’t just a little too sensitive back then? Maybe reading into things that weren’t there?”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest, his words poking at an old wound. He was doing it again—dismissing your feelings like they didn’t matter. “Sensitive?” you repeated, your voice sharp. “No, Jake. I wasn’t being sensitive. You were a walking red flag. You couldn’t even keep your eyes on me during a date without checking out every other woman in the room.”

He chuckled, not taking you seriously. “Come on, you’re exaggerating. I was just being... friendly.”

“Friendly?” you shot back, incredulous. “You were flirting with other women while we were out together. Hell, you probably flirted with the waitress the night you broke up with me.”

Jake’s smirk wavered for a split second, but he quickly recovered. “Oh please,” he muttered, his voice low, “You’re acting like I was the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“Well,” you said, your eyes narrowing, “you weren’t exactly the best.”

Jake’s playful grin faltered for real this time. Something in your words hit a nerve, and you could see the flicker of irritation in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Penny stepped in again, sliding a drink in front of him.

“That’s enough, both of you,” she said sternly, giving you both a look. “This is a bar, not a battlefield.”

Jake took the drink from her, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped back. “We’re just having a conversation, Penny,” he said, his voice deceptively calm.

Penny wasn’t buying it. “Sure. But keep it civil, alright?”

Jake nodded, but there was still that glint in his eye. He downed his drink in one swift motion before setting the glass back on the bar. “Well, I’ll leave you to your... reading,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “But don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll still be around if you decide you need a little reminder of what you’re missing.”

You clenched your fists, biting back the retort that was on the tip of your tongue as he sauntered away, that damn smirk back on his face. You hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he made you feel like the years hadn’t changed a thing between the two of you.

The bar had thinned out as the night wore on. Most of the pilots had already left, and only a handful remained—unfortunately, Jake was one of them. You were doing your best to ignore him, nursing your drink and pretending he didn’t exist. As long as he stayed on his side of the bar and you stayed on yours, everything would be fine.

After a trip to the bathroom, you came out into the dimly lit hallway, wiping your hands on your jeans. That’s when you saw him—the guy who had been hovering around you all night. He’d tried talking to you earlier, hitting on you with a few drinks in hand, but each time you politely turned him down. You weren’t interested, and you’d made that clear.

But now, in the narrow hallway, there was no way to escape him.

You felt your chest tighten as he stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker than the casual flirting from earlier.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and slurred, “you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all night. You don’t have to play hard to get.”

He moved in, his breath heavy with alcohol, his hand reaching out to touch your arm. You recoiled, pressing your back against the wall, but there was nowhere to go. Panic surged through you as he pinned you there, his body looming over yours. You wanted to scream, to fight, but your body was frozen, your mind struggling to process what was happening.

His grip tightened on your arm, and you felt the walls closing in. You opened your mouth to shout, but no sound came out. Fear had swallowed your voice, leaving you powerless.

Just then, the men's bathroom door swung open with a creak, and you turned your head, desperately searching for help. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him—Jake Seresin. Of all the people who could have walked out in that moment, it had to be him.

He caught your eyes instantly, and something in your expression must have set him off because his face shifted in an instant—from his usual cocky smirk to a look of deadly seriousness.

Without a second’s hesitation, Jake crossed the hallway, his eyes locked on the man pinning you against the wall.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jake’s voice was ice-cold as he grabbed the guy by the shoulder and yanked him off you with surprising force.

The man stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion. “Hey, man, back off. This one's taken,” the guy slurred, trying to square up to Jake, but Jake wasn’t having any of it.

“She said no,” Jake growled, stepping between you and the drunk. “So I suggest you take the hint before this gets ugly.”

The guy laughed, clearly not understanding the danger he was in. “What, you her boyfriend or something?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat. He stepped forward, his chest puffed out, radiating that cocky, intimidating confidence you had always hated but were suddenly thankful for.

“Yeah, I am,” Jake said, his voice calm but lethal. “And I don’t take kindly to assholes like you thinking they can put their hands on her.”

You blinked in surprise, your heart still racing, but Jake’s presence was grounding, pulling you out of the fog of fear. He slid into the role of your protective boyfriend so seamlessly, like it was second nature. And for once, you weren’t going to argue with it.

The guy looked between you and Jake, finally realizing he was outmatched. Jake towered over him, his jaw clenched tight, and for a moment, you thought the guy might try something, but then he backed down. He mumbled something under his breath and turned to leave, but not before Jake grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved him toward the door.

“Get out,” Jake ordered, his voice low and dangerous. “Before I make sure you never step foot in this bar again.”

The guy stumbled out, muttering curses under his breath, and with a final glare at Jake, he disappeared into the night. You stood there, still pressed against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jake turned to you, his expression softening now that the threat was gone.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice gentler than you expected.

You nodded, though you were still trying to catch your breath. “I—I think so. I just… froze.”

Jake’s eyes softened, a hint of concern flashing through his usual bravado. “Hey,” he said, stepping closer, his tone low and reassuring. “That guy was a creep. None of this is on you.”

You managed a weak smile, grateful for the fact that he didn’t push for more details, didn’t make you feel small for freezing in that moment. Jake Seresin, of all people, had been the one to step in when you needed it most, and it was throwing you for a loop.

As if sensing the shift, Jake tilted his head, his smirk returning just slightly.

“So,” he said, a glint of playfulness back in his eyes, “still hate my guts, or am I back in your good graces for the night?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite everything. “You’re still an ass, Seresin,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words.

He chuckled, leaning against the wall beside you. “Fair enough,” he said, looking a little too pleased with himself. “But for tonight, I’ll take being your ass over letting that guy get away with anything.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a part of you—however small—that was thankful for him tonight.

As the night began to wind down at The Hard Deck, the bar had mostly emptied out, leaving just a few stragglers nursing their last drinks. You were still on edge from the earlier incident, even though you tried to push it to the back of your mind. You told yourself you were fine, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach said otherwise. Jake had gone back to his friends after the confrontation, but every now and then, you caught him glancing your way, keeping an eye on you.

You finished your drink and set the glass down with a quiet clink, deciding it was time to head out. As you stood from your stool, you felt Jake’s eyes on you again. He was still with the last few pilots who hadn’t called it a night yet, but you could tell he was paying more attention to you than to them. You waved Penny a quick goodbye, thanking her for the company, and made your way toward the exit.

Just as you reached the door, Jake caught up with you.

“You heading out?” he asked casually, but there was an edge of concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, trying to brush it off. “Just gonna get home before it gets any later.”

Jake glanced around, then looked back at you, his expression unreadable. “Let me walk you to your car.”

You hesitated, feeling that familiar mix of annoyance and gratitude at his sudden protectiveness. “Jake, I’m fine. It’s not far—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not pushy. “But I don’t want to take any chances. You’re still a little shaken up, and I don’t trust that guy from earlier.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but something in his eyes stopped you. He wasn’t being smug or cocky—this was different. He was genuinely concerned. Reluctantly, you nodded, letting him follow you outside.

As soon as you stepped into the parking lot, you spotted him—the guy who had cornered you earlier. He was lingering near the far end of the lot, leaning against a beat-up car and lighting a cigarette. Your heart skipped a beat, and your body went tense as you instinctively took a step back.

Jake immediately noticed your reaction and followed your gaze, his expression darkening when he saw the guy. Without missing a beat, he stepped in front of you, shielding you from the man’s view.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Jake muttered under his breath. He turned to you, his jaw set. “You’re not driving home tonight. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’ll come get your car in the morning.”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden decisiveness. “Jake, that’s not necessary, I—”

“It is necessary,” he interrupted, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I’m not letting you drive home with that asshole lurking around. What if he follows you?”

Your heart raced at the thought, and despite your instinct to argue, you knew he was right. The guy hadn’t exactly backed down earlier, and who knew what he was capable of, especially after a few more drinks. You sighed, your frustration ebbing as you realized Jake was just trying to keep you safe.

“Fine,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “But only because I don’t want to deal with him.”

Jake smirked, though the usual cockiness was tempered with something softer, more serious. “Good. Let’s go.”

He led you to his truck, unlocking the door and waiting for you to climb in before he got behind the wheel. As he drove, the hum of the engine and the quiet of the night settled between you. For once, Jake wasn’t talking or cracking jokes. He kept his focus on the road, glancing over at you occasionally, making sure you were okay.

The ride to his place was quicker than you expected. When you pulled up outside his apartment, Jake turned off the engine and gave you a soft look.

“I’ll grab you something to wear,” he said, opening his door.

You followed him inside, feeling a little out of place. His apartment was surprisingly neat for someone you used to consider a mess of a person. Jake disappeared into his bedroom for a moment, then returned with a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“Here,” he said, handing them to you. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Make yourself comfortable.”

You took the clothes and nodded, retreating to the bathroom to change. Once you were in his clothes, you felt a little more at ease, the comfort of the soft fabric and the faint scent of his cologne oddly soothing. When you returned to the living room, Jake was already setting up the couch for himself.

“You can take my bed,” he offered, tossing a pillow onto the couch. “I’ll crash out here.”

You shook your head, feeling a twinge of guilt. “No, Jake, you don’t have to—”

“Not gonna argue,” he said with a grin. “Bed’s yours for the night.”

But before you could protest further, a strange feeling settled over you—one of safety, of knowing Jake wasn’t going to let anything happen to you tonight. And despite everything, despite how much history lay between the two of you, you found yourself unwilling to sleep without him next to you.

“Jake,” you said softly, your voice almost catching in your throat, “can you just… stay with me?”

He paused, clearly surprised by your request, but the seriousness of your tone seemed to strike a chord with him. He nodded slowly, tossing the pillow back onto the bed.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay.”

You both settled into his bed, the tension from earlier fading into something softer. As you lay beside him, the weight of the night began to lift, and for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could trust him to look out for you.

As you and Jake lay side by side in the dark, the tension that had built up throughout the night refused to dissipate completely. The silence between you felt heavy, and though you’d initially felt a strange comfort in his presence, the weight of old wounds still lingered beneath the surface.

Jake shifted beside you, his usual cocky demeanor slipping back into place as if he couldn’t help himself.

“You know,” he said, his voice breaking the quiet, “you’ve really got to loosen up.”

You blinked, staring up at the ceiling, not quite believing he was starting this now. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, come on,” Jake replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You’re always so wound up. It’s like you can’t let go for even a second. What’s the matter? Been a while since anyone helped you relax?”

You clenched your fists beneath the covers, anger flaring inside you. “Excuse me?”

Jake shrugged, seemingly oblivious to how close you were to snapping. “I’m just saying, when’s the last time you got laid?”

You turned your head to face him, your eyes narrowing in the darkness. “That’s none of your business, Jake,” you said, your voice low but biting.

He raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “Oh, come on, it was a joke.”

But it didn’t feel like a joke. The frustration of the past two years, the unresolved anger and tension between the two of you—it all bubbled to the surface.

Before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out, quieter than you’d intended, but they carried the weight of a confession you hadn’t wanted to make. “The last time I was with someone was you.”

Jake went still beside you, the cocky smirk falling from his face. For a moment, he said nothing, clearly not expecting that. The air between you grew thick with the sudden shift in mood, the flippant nature of the conversation disappearing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he finally muttered, his voice low and disbelieving.

You shook your head, looking away from him. “Why would I joke about that?”

Jake chuckled and said more to himself than you, “That explains so much. I could help you feel better, you know?”

The silence that followed was almost unbearable, the tension in the room intensifying. Jake shifted again, this time turning toward you, his eyes searching your face in the dim light.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I didn’t—” he started, but whatever he was about to say was lost as his gaze locked onto yours, something unspoken passing between you.

The anger, the resentment, the desire—it all came to a head, and before you knew what was happening, you were reaching for him, your lips crashing into his.

The kiss was messy, heated, full of everything you’d both been holding back for far too long. It was like all the pent-up frustration and unresolved feelings had been waiting for this moment, and now that the dam had broken, there was no stopping it.

Jake groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, his touch rough and demanding. You matched his intensity, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him harder, your body reacting to the fire igniting between you.

The years of distance, the bitterness, it all melted away as your bodies pressed together, the heat of his skin searing against yours. His lips moved from yours to your neck, biting and kissing with an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. You gasped, arching into him, your fingers digging into his back as if trying to ground yourself in the whirlwind of emotions that had taken over.

“You’re so goddamn frustrating,” you whispered against his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Jake growled, his hands slipping under your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His lips found yours again, and this time, the kiss was even more intense, a clash of lips and teeth that left you both breathless.

Whatever restraint had been holding you back was gone now, replaced by raw, undeniable need. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head before he did the same to you, his hands roaming over your body with a possessiveness that left you wanting more.

The tension that had been simmering for years exploded into something hot and primal, your bodies moving together with a desperation that neither of you could control. The sheets twisted around you as you shifted, Jake’s weight pressing down on you as he kissed you harder, deeper, his hands exploring every inch of your skin.

It wasn’t soft or sweet—this was pure, unfiltered passion, all the emotions you’d buried over the years coming to the surface in a heated, almost angry release. You couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough, your mind clouded by the intensity of the moment.

When he finally pushed into you, it was like the culmination of everything you’d both been holding back. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he set a relentless pace, his lips finding yours again in a bruising kiss that left you breathless.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the occasional growl of his name as you both lost yourselves in the moment. It was fast, rough, and full of the tension you’d both carried for so long. Every thrust, every kiss, felt like years of frustration finally being unleashed.

You didn’t know how long it lasted, but by the time you both collapsed onto the bed, spent and breathing heavily, the tension in the room had shifted. The anger and frustration were still there, but now they were tangled up in something else—something raw, unresolved, and far more complicated than you’d expected.

Jake lay beside you, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. You stared up at the ceiling, your mind racing, wondering what the hell you’d just done.

“Well,” Jake finally muttered, his voice rough and still a little breathless, “guess we got that out of our systems.”

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