#do I know the bridge to call home?
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I love songs where I have no idea what the fuck the lyrics are
#do I know the bridge to call home?#not at all#will I sing it anyway? absolutely that song fucking kills me#help me#kite listens to music#have I posted abt call home its so dz coded to me#kite's coveyverse posting
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i have no clue what's going on w/ the hiring process for the job offer i got yesterday, but at least it seems like nobody at the post office does either. đ
#ctxt#charlie vs mail#got a call from some guy at the regional sorting facility like 'uuh yeah just drop in to your PO whenever for fingerprinting'#so i show up in shorts & a t-shirt as a stop along a multi-errand trip bc my impression was that this is just a part of the background check#woman doing my prints was like 'idk if anyone's here to speak with you today but we can check'#me still thinkin it's just a casual meet/greet 'oh no worries haha! btw i got the job offer before having even 1 interview is that normal?'#she doesn't know but leads me around until we find someone buried under a stack of paperwork at her desk#'hi [redacted!] charlie is here for their interview!'#redacted peers over his monitor like a deer in headlights 'who is here for their what now??? oh uuuhh gimme a minute uuuhhhhh'#i'm sweatinnnmng like i'm wearing my birks i am massively underprepared but ok i guess we're doing this & they already offered me the job so#redacted also seemed to be panicking a lil bc the person who usually does these interviews isn't even in today#we had a moment of 'so we're both utterly blindsided here right?' 'yeah can we reschedule?' 'yes god please let's reschedule'#so i'm going back thursday for an actual interview. after already completing background check & filling out tax paperwork#get home to an email from the dude who called me this morning like 'btw dress business casual for your fingerprinting & bring XYZ'#but still stating nowhere that the implication was that fingerprinting & interview would happen concurrently????#this is a federal institution & the second largest employer in the US. get ur shit together !!!#hoping it's not gonna be a black mark that i showed up in my casual summer clothes without the necessary docs#but tbf to me the expectations were hella unclear like i wasn't even given a point of contact for an onboarding supervisor until today#since they were also drastically underprepared i hope it'll just be water under the bridge & we can properly meet thursday#hands down weirdest hiring/onboarding process i've ever gone through but fuck it we ball
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#personal#soo ive discovered a giant hole in my back tooth because medicare doesnt cover dental except for children#and so i havent been since i was 21 and i try to maintain tooth health at home but im not very good at it#due to being raised wrong about it and also autistic and i cant afford even a basic clean and checkup#which is what i was actually looking in my mouth and deciding i need which would be about 300 bucks already#and now im scared to eat anything because i definitely cant afford to make this worse đ#genuinely so much bad shit has happened and every time its like. ok ill pick myself up cause no one else will and dust off and things#will be fine in the end they always are and my heart believes this will be fine too but i dont remember the last time i was#this genuinely legitimately scared. im so scared and i dont know what to do#i know the next steps is to call dentists in my area tomorrow and check if they do medicare but i feel i already know the answer#idk if its better to have looked or to not and be able to live my life but its food time and i cant make myself eat#im scared to make it worse im scared of the pain that might cause im scared of the upward 2k damage costs if it gets worse#fuck#fucking fuck#okok panick attack over i have a two step plan: part one call around tomorrow and see if anyone takes medicare#part two: i have pliars and towels and painkillers and a lot of conviction in both my diy skills and my caring for my own wounds skills#in the mean time just be more dilligent to brush immediately after eating and ill grab mouthwash too as soon as i can as im currently out#i have a family friend whos a vet maybe theyve ripped out a rotted dogs tooth or two before and could help. but ill cross that bridge#when i get to it fir neow i should check with real dentists before making assumptions. and eat because ive been crying and shaking#and was already hungry and now am exhausted. from the aforementioned shaking and crying and need to eat even more#in all cases. dentist on medicare being the best obviously but in all cases im gonna ask to keep my tooth. unless i do it i dont need to ask#but i forgot when i had my wisdoms out a a few years ago. holy fuck that was like a decade ago actually wtf#ima make a necklace out of it since its just the one and not a pair#and just like that things will be fine. as expected as they always are once the panick mode is done im ok i have a plan and im good
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#sometimes i miss my family / people from my childhood so deeply but then it hurts so much to be there#i dont understand what to do about it or how to reconnect with them even#i feel like such a fundamentally different person now too - the only feeling that remains familiar is the deep lonely feeling of alienation#whenever im there i get reminded of the sadness and pain and depression and hopelessness and just the sheer loneliness idk#how do i even begin to cross that bridge that i was so adamant about burning back then??? idk it's just weird and confusing#every time i even near my hometown i begin to dissociate so heavily i dont feel like my soul is anywhere near my body#and i dont know how to fix it#and i have people around me from unhappy homes too but they still talk to their family semi regularly at least?#i barely call with my mom once every few months and i see them maybe once or twice a year#i really wanted to disappear and cut off everyone and i can't believe i got away with it
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self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.
your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.
"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.
kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.
"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.
"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.
"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.
"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"
"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.
"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.
"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.
"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.
"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.
"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.
"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.
restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.
"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.
"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.
"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.
"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.
"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.
"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.
"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.
"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.
"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."
kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.
"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.
#fumiliardrabbles#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#kento nanami#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#kento x reader#nanami fluff#nanami x y/n#jjk headcanons#jujutsu nanami#kento x y/n#kento x you#jujutsu kento#kento fluff#jjk kento#nanami kento#nanami headcanons#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami x you#fluff#nanami is a green flag#live laugh love nanami#min...drabbles
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đ©ot a betïčhyung line
đnhypen x fem!reader âč cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's đ, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )
sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.
part one !
â
LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )
"y/n wait!"
heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.
"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.
he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.
"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.
heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.
when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.
it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.
they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. â more under the cut!
so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.
he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.
he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.
he needed to fix this, asap.
it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.
"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.
"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.
you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.
"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."
"why would they say that then?"
"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.
heeseung stepped closer.
"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.
"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."
you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.
he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'
"heeseung.."
"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."
you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.
"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.
"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.
"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."
â
PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )
jay was confused.
the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.
he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.
throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.
walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.
"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"
that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"
"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.
"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.
"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.
he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.
jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.
he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.
your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."
jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.
"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.
"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.
"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.
this way he knew how he'd make things better.
"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.
right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?
"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.
he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.
"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"
you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.
"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.
jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.
"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."
"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.
"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."
new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.
"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.
"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.
"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."
â
SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )
jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.
he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.
"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.
jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.
he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.
it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.
but jokes were meant to be funny, right?
jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.
your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.
"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.
"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.
jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.
and he hated that.
"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."
"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.
"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.
"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.
"you promise?"
"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."
â
PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)
sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.
it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.
it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.
that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.
guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.
he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.
i deserve it.
he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.
"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.
"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"
sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.
"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.
"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.
"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.
"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."
your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."
"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.
"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."
â ౚৠthank u for tuning in ! @j-jinxee @slp23 @unsurereader @heelovesmeknot @sunshine-skz @hoondrop @jooniesbears-blog @jordan1024 @heeswif3y @outroherrr @harufluff @cheeseball0 @yjwluver @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @itjengirl @emiliasstuffs-blog @isa942572 @lufcxx @alienqbrain @woniebae @baekxo07 @titttuaf @chuuswifereal @kyanmeai @isabellah29 @deezbin @skzenhalove @eneiyri @a4ruby @saxytalks @denleave1088 @imdelulu @powerpuffstuts @hoonatic @dollydigital @chososloverfr @dummyf @chanyeolchannie @oddracha @wonwushu @strawberrynull @ceciloveshee @loumin908 @cexg68 @grassbutneo @gardenwons @pag-yerin @bora04 @iluvnikism @jellymiki
â i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(
#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen#enhypen angst#enha fluff#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#sunghoon angst#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon fluff#heeseung x reader#heeseung angst#heeseung fluff#jake sim x reader#sim jake x reader#jake angst#jake fluff#jaeyun fluff#sim jaeyun angst#jongseong x reader#jay x reader#jay angst#jongseong angst#jongseong fluff#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon#jake x reader#enhypen smau#sunghoon smau
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Poly 141 x Reader
Home is where you are
"What ye think she made this time?"
Johnny mumbles, dropping his head back against the seat behind him. Blinking tiredly up at the ceiling of the truck, a daydream clear in his eyes. Simon next to him stares out the window, sweat seems to practically seal his balaclava to his face.
"We'd be lucky if anything. It's three in the fucking morning.."
Kyle says from the passenger seat. Pursing his lips a bit.
"She should be sleeping.."
Price chuckles from the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, paying close attention to the road.
"She knows we're on our way home. If she made something. We'll be thankful."
His other hand is resting on Kyle's knee, his thumb rubs slow circles against him.
Simons foot taps on the floor of the car silently, brows tight together. The man just wants to go home, shower, eat whatever heaven you cooked and sink into that california king mattress. With all of you, all five of you together.
"Steaks."
He mutters.
"Hm?"
Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.
"On days we come home.. it's either steak or shepherds pie. She made shepherds pie last time so it's gonna be steak."
They all salivate at the damn thought.
"It's tha little things with ye huh Simon?"
Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.
It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are. Filing out of the truck, bags over their shoulders. Covered in grime and dried blood, they didn't even let themselves clean up at base before going home to you. Walking forward, Simon slings an arm around Kyle's shoulder. Tucking the sargeant into his side as they walk to the house. Both Johns walking behind them, Price giving the younger a good slap on the back.
"Home, boys. Let's enjoy it while we can."
Price comes forward to unlock the front door, pushing it open for the four of them. Mumbling out a reminder to take off their shoes inside. Leaning down with a grunt to pull off his boots. The others doing the same. They can already smell what you're cooking, Simon was right. The smell of steaks is pretty clear, garlic butter, some kind of steamed vegetables and spices.
The house is clean. Warm. Low lighting, some candles lit. Everything about it screams home. John opens his mouth to call out for you, but he can feel his spine practically melt hearing you hum in the kitchen.
Johnny is the first stumbling forward, hopping on one leg as he throws off his remaining shoe. Eager to get back to you. Grinning as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. He melts. Seeing you there, in your chair dishing up their plates of dinner.
".. Hey lass.."
He mumbles, feeling like all the air left his chest.
You turn your head when you hear him, the brightest smile spreads across your face. Tossing the fork down from your hand as you turn towards him.
"Hey soldier-"
You beam. You don't even get another word in before Johnny rushes towards you, you let out a puff of air as he crashes into you. Laughing against him as he squeezes you to his chest, his face buried in your hair.
"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."
He whispers. You return with one of your own.
"I know baby.. I missed you too.."
You lift your head, kissing the scar on his chin.
"This bloke botherin' you love?"
You already know that voice immediately, smiling as you turn to look at Kyle. Who is quick at your side with Johnny, his hand cups the back of your head. Pressing a long kiss to your cheek. Taking a deep inhale of your scent through his nose. You smile warmly, your hand finds his bicep, giving a soft squeeze.
"There you are Kyle.."
You murmur, turning your head to press your own kisses across the bridge of his nose.
"Always here."
He chirps, kissing on your skin. His eyes bore into you, drinking you up. Johnny huffs, mumbling something about stealing all your attention. Earning a small tug on his mowhawk from you.
"Alright you two- showers. The both of you. You need it-"
You chuckle, giving them both a hug. Giving Johnny one more kiss on the jaw. Letting Gaz get one more kiss on your face. Watching them head past you down the hall to the bathroom. Kissing on eachother, bumping into walls. You shake your head at them with a smile.
Eyes flicking back to the entrance. You find Simon staring at you, his shoulders slack and sinking. Eyes half lidded and tired. The rest of his face under the balaclava. Your eyes soften, holding out your hand to him.
"Oh Si.."
He takes the invitation. Coming over to you. He would tower over you in height. But instead he falls to one knee in front of your chair. Hands resting on the arm rests of your chair. Your hands immediately cradle his head. Leaning forward to press your head to his.
"You're home.. it's alright now .. no more Lieutenant.."
You whisper against him. Your fingertips lift the edge of the balaclava, pulling it over the nape of his neck. Over the back of his head, nails dragging soothingly up his scalp as you take the fabric away. Making him shiver in vulnerability. Putting his mask aside on the counter.
Seeing your Simons face eases the both of you, cupping his jaw and lifting his head.
"I know doll.. I know."
He mutters, you kiss his temple. Caressing his skin. Threading your fingers into his hair.
"Go shower with the boys sweetheart.. I'll be in there soon."
You coo at him. He chuckles deeply, kissing your head between your brows as he gets up. Bumping your foreheads together one more time before walking to the bathroom.
"You're not gonna say hello to me John?"
You joke, turning your head to watch said Captain. Who was holding his hat in hand, leaning against the wall watching you. He's been watching you the whole time.
"Just seein' you with our boys darlin'.."
Pushing away from the wall he walks over to you. His eyes full of exhaustion, longing, warmth. Tossing his hat on the counter behind you. He leans down, callous hands hold your cheeks. Bringing your lips to his.
He's not as sneaky as he thinks. You know of his little demand to the boys. He's the first to kiss you. Each time they come home.
You kiss him back feverishly, as much as you've been calm and steady for them. You missed your men like hell. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, beginning to work on the knots of tension in them. Emitting a deep groan from John into your mouth. You smile against his lips, feeling the scratch off his beard.
"Everyone's alright?"
You whisper against him. He nods, his hands finding your hips. Slightly lifting you from your chair and towards himself.
"No one's broken. .. Kyle's a little stressed. Y'know how he is.."
You nod, eyes still closed, continuing to brush your lips together.
"And you?"
"Just tired.. But I'm home. That's what matters."
John mumbles, kissing you deep again. Dipping his tongue past your lips, a soft sigh slipping out of you. Arms pulling him closer.
"Taking good care of our boys John.. You always do.. Making sure you all come home to me again... Our strong Captain.."
You can feel him sinking at your praise. The older mans knees want to buckle at your voice.
"Let's get you in the shower baby.. Hm? Get you washed and relaxed.."
You mumble against him.
You yelp as your lifted into the air by his arms, laughing openly as he carries you like a bride. Burying his nose to the crook of your neck. Carrying you down the hall, to the bathroom door. Where you can already hear the chatter of the men in the shower waiting for the two of you. John is grumbling against your skin.
"We need you darlin'. "
"Our boys and I need you bad.."
#disabled reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#cod mw x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#simon riley x reader#kyle garrick x reader#john price x reader#poly 141 x reader#taskforce 141 x reader#simon ghost x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz x reader#captain john price x reader
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THE MOST GORGEOUS - LN4
summary : Lando is convinced heâs found the love of his life during media day, embarrasses himself, and canât stop flirting!!
listen up : flirty lando! pretend it rained in zandvoortđ«š
word count : 616
âCarlos!â I hear the voice before I see him, and he definitely doesnât see me because as he slides into the room he looks directly at his friend, âCarlos! Did you see that reporter!? Fucking hell, Sheâs the most gorgeous woman iâve ever seen! And I saw her completely rage at-â
He spots me then.
Iâm sitting in a corner, watching him talk about me. I have to say, My ego is extraordinarily boosted. His hands slap down to the side of his body, his eyes going wide.
I canât help but laugh, âHi.â I say, glancing at Carlos whoâs already cracking up.
Lando puts his hand on the bridge of his bandaged nose, clearing his throat, he hesitantly looks back up at me, âHello.â
âYou know, I prayed for something comical to happen today! Thank you so much, mate!â Carlos slaps his friend on the back before making his way out, shaking his head at me, âSee you!â
âUmâŠâ Lando swallows, âWould you believe me if I said I wasnât talking about you?â Iâm normally not so self centered but I really believe he is talking about me.
âI saw you get escorted into the âno pressâ areaâŠâ He nods, his lips in a thin line, âI was also the only woman in the media pen.â
âRight! Of course.â He leans his arm against a chair, using the other one to motion at me, âWell⊠Nice job yelling at Vowles.â
I smile and stand, pulling my skirt down a bit, âHe deserved it.â I shrug and grab my purse and paddock pads.
âNo doubt.â He watches me walk past, âWait!â I turn and tilt my head, âWould you want to- get coffee?â he looks nervous.
âNo⊠sorry.â
At this, he looks shocked at my blatant refusal, âUh⊠Thatâs alright. Hey! I never got your name.â
I nod, âTrue.â I walk out and I hear him call after me.
âIâm Lando! By the way!â
âïœĄâ§Ëâ
âGreat race today, Lando.â I say into the microphone as the man stands in front of me. Heâs sweaty and holding onto his water for dear life.
Iâve never seen his eyes so blue. Not that Iâve seen much of him in person⊠Iâm new to the interviewer game, made my way up slowly, âEasy to do well when I know youâre watching.â
He just won Maxâs home race and apparently winner Lando is a very flirty being. I raise a brow, âHow will you be celebrating tonight? Big party?â
He runs his hand over his mouth, âNah⊠looking to hang out with someone special.â Is he⊠asking me out? Now!?
I clear my throat, trying to stay professional, âSounds Lovely.â
âHopefully it will be! If she says yes.â Heâs looking directly into my eyes, my cheeks feeling hot.
âMmm who would say no to Lando Norris?â
He licks his lips, âI know one person.â I shake myself out of it, remembering the camera facing him and the mic in my hand.
âSo! Iâm assuming you're pleased with tyre management today? Pretty wet track, Is that harder or more fun?â
His mouth pulls into a slow smirk and I know iâm doomed, âPrefer it wet after a few boring races.â He shrugs and I roll my eyes because I know what heâll say next, âQuite slick today but nothing iâm not used to.â
His media manager taps his shoulder, letting us know time is up, âHave a good day celebrating, Norris.â
âAppreciate it, Y/n.â He winks and turns around. I sigh and turn the other way, praying my cheeks will cool down.
He knows my name.
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#lando norris fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#lando imagine
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI â° 10:32
You tell Bakugou once that you donât know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults.Â
âHah?â He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that.Â
You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well?Â
The whole goddamn package doesnât know how to take the train?
Really?
Heâs calling bull.
âWhat do you mean you donât know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesnât know that?â
âI justââ youâre abashed and really donât know what to say, âI didnât reallyâ Iâve never had the chance to take one until now!â For a consistent honors student, you canât really have everything, can you?
âHowâve you been getting to school and back, then?â
âWe had a driverââ
âFuckinâ courseââ
âBut hey! Listenâin my defenseâmy schools were usually a walking distance from our house.â
âAnd now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?â
You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) âQuit it, asshole.â
He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And itâs clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.
âCâmon.â Bakugou grabs you by the arm.
âOwâ hey! Where are we going?â
âYou have to learn somehow, or else youâll look fuckinâ clueless and dumb, nerd.â
You donât argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.
âWhatâs this?âÂ
Bakugou hands you a card. Itâs decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafuâs native flower, whose color is your favorite.
âAn IC card,â he simply answers.
Itâs cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.
âYou couldâve just helped me get a ticket, though,â you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. âI donât think Iâll be using this card that often. Itâll be a waste.â
âThen try and use it as often as you can, nerd.â
âIâll pay you back for thisâhow much was it?â
âForget it.â
âReally, Bakââ
âForget it,â he barks. âKeep up, you shitty extra. Or else youâd miss the last train to your station.â Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.
You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them fromâ
âWhat do I do now?â
Youâre hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. Youâre like a kid whoâs lost their mother in the mall.
âJustââ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.
âPlace your shitty card on the card reader. Thatâs it.â
You do as youâre taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. âI did it!â
Bakugou thinks itâs fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast.Â
âYeah, yeah, whatever.âÂ
He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations youâll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.
Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.
âHold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,â Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette.Â
âItâs so beautiful,â you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.âs, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.
He scoffs.
âWhatâs so interestinâ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?â
âOf course I have; theyâre just not like this.â
Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldnât see what you saw, but maybe itâs because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesnât amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first.Â
An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And heâs with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.
Maybe heâll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.
The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.
âWhat did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? Thatâs what those are for.â Whether itâs by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesnât let go, and you didnât make a comment about it.
âSorry! Still getting used to it,â you quietly laugh. âI hope the people here donât think Iâm really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,â you told him. âItâs embarrassing to think that I havenât taken one until now.â
Bakugou thinks itâs alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, heâs there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so.Â
A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. âExcuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,â he says. Youâre a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that itâs fine. Itâll be an awkward death for you if you donât accept it, because now heâs standing. âPlease, I insist.â
Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.
âYou look like youâre about to shit yourself.â
âShut up, Iâm not.â
âJealous?â
âHah? Why would I beââ
âShh!â you kicked his shoe with yours.
âQuiet, remember?â
Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. Heâs too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesnât think heâd be vocal about it anytime soon.
Heâll leave it to you to confess.
Then again, you already knew.
Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.
SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou fluff#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugo drabble#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha drabbles#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha drabble#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#âčđč đČđïžêÖ¶ÖžÖą ÊŸÊŸ
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Forgetting
Jake Seresin x reader
Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.
Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.
Words: 2700
Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List
As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope heâs hurt. You hope heâs on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if heâs not hurt, if heâs not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until itâs well out of your range to catch it.Â
Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope youâre ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you.Â
Within the hour, youâre sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriendâs arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriendâs body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriendâs lips.Â
âPlease tell me heâs ok,â you say against your friendâs chest.Â
A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. âNo one could get ahold of him.â
Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. âOh my god!â
âIâm sure heâs fine, kid. Donât worry.â
âHow can you say that? He was supposed to be here and heâs not andââ You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. Heâs a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. Youâve seen it a hundred times, but never with you.Â
Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. âWhat arenât you telling me?â
Another great thing about Bradley: he doesnât make you play any games. You donât have to jump through hoops. You donât have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth.Â
âJavy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,â Bradley says.
Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. âWith her?â you ask. Bradleyâs eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. âHe forgot about me because heâs with her.â
âWe donât know that for sure, andââ
Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, âRooster, why did he even ask me to come here?â
âBecause heâŠI mean, we thought heââ
âYou thought he gave a fuck about me.â
âHe does,â Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. âHe never shuts up about you.â
âSure,â you say. âHe gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?â
Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. âI canât.â
âExactly.âÂ
No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this âNavy guyâ that theyâd only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around.Â
For the duration of your time together, youâve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesnât allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasnât made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe thatâs a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake arenât meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesnât even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesnât guarantee you wonât fall flat on your face, and you think thatâs exactly whatâs happening. Youâve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesnât care about you to the same degree that you care about him.Â
However, youâre not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. Heâs going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but youâre too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door.Â
â
You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his exâs before he takes a sip. Bradleyâs comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver.Â
He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red.Â
âWhat the fuck!â Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his exâs poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. âWhat the hell is this?â
You figured heâd be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, thatâs what you feel he deserves. Jakeâs been wary of the other Daggerâs closeness to you for a while, and even though you knowâas does Bradleyâthat itâs an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didnât think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.
Your arms cross. âThis is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.â
âExcuse me?â
Jakeâs exâs prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks awayâjust more proof that whatever the fuck sheâs doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of.Â
Bradleyâs saying something. You canât quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but youâre pretty sure itâs a scolding based on the twisting of Jakeâs features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and youâre being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore.Â
âWhy are you here?â he asks.Â
You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. âBecause you asked me to be here.â
âTomorrow.â
âWhat?â
âItâs Wednesday,â he says.Â
âItâs Thursday, Jake.â
âNo, itâsââ he freezes, and you donât know if heâs tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. âFuck,â he mutters.
Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. âWhat are you doing with her?â
âWhat the fuck are you doing with Rooster?â he returns much more forcefully. âWhy didnât you call me?â
âI called, I texted, I left voicemails,â you tell him, âBut clearly, she was more important.â
Jakeâs hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he canât find his phone.
âDonât bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,â you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. âJust fuck her, Jake, if you havenât already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.â
Youâve never seen him fall apart the way he does. Youâve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. Youâve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth mustâve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.
âYou donât mean that,â he says, but itâs more of a plea than anything. âWhyâŠWhy would youââ He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. âYou love me. You didnât mean to say that.â
You do love himâterribly soâbut youâre willing to be one of those people who wonât view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. âJakeââ
âTake it back,â he says. His steps are quick, and then youâre trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. âPlease, baby, take it back. She doesnât mean anything to me.â
âAnd I mean less.â
âNo!â he says. âThatâs not true. Youâre everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, thatâs all.â
âHelping you,ïżœïżœ you mimic with a roll of your eyes. âHelping you what? Get off?â
With a little whine, Jakeâs head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. âPlease. Please quit saying things like that.â His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You donât push him awayâyou can'tâand his touch softens you ever so slightly.
âThen tell me the truth,â you say. âRight now. Iâm giving you one shot.â
His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if youâre the liar on trial here.Â
âIt was a surprise,â he tells you. âSheâs a realtor now, and for the last few months sheâs been helping me find a new place, one thatâs bigger than what Iâve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.â Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you donât respond, he continues, âI hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that youâre always the one to come here because I canât fly out at the drop of a hat. I know itâs a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. Thatâs why she and I came here. We were celebrating because Iâm signing on a house first thing tomorrow,â he says. âWell, thatâs why Iâm celebrating, anyway. Sheâs probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.â
Itâs almost unfair how that new information doesnât make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, youâd be leaping into his arms, kissing him like youâve been deprived of him for years, repeating âyesâ over and over between those kisses, but you canât. You canât because his explanation doesnât fix everything.Â
âThat still doesnât change that itâs Thursday, not Wednesday,â you say.
âI know, baby. Thatâs my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that itâs officially mine, but I fucked it up.â
Jakeâs thumbs press into your hips, and youâre instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when youâve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever youâre in bed together.Â
You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriendâs, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasnât one of distress, but it is. And worse, itâs obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if sheâs hoping she wasnât just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life.Â
Jakeâs busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, âShe feels bad.â
He doesnât follow your eyes. âBecause she knows Iâve been doing this all for you.â
You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. âYou really want me to live with you?â
âOf course I do,â he tells you. Heâs shaking his head, but you know itâs because he thinks any idea that he wouldnât want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. âI love you.â
With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love.Â
âCan I see it?â
â
Itâs smallâa two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And itâs perfect.
You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that youâll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because theyâll probably be like their father, and Jake didnât choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jakeâs job, will always be home base.
Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. âIâd offer to show you around, but I donât get the keys until morning.â
âItâs ok,â you tell him. âI donât need to see inside.â
When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. âYou donât like it.â
Shifting your body to face him, you say, âJake, I love it.â
Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you canât help but chuckle. You canât help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know itâs not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, heâll have hell to pay. But something tells you that wonât be a problem.Â
âEnough to live with me?â he asks.
You nod. âEnough to live with you.â
---
A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin fic#glen powell#top gun maverick#tgm#bradley bradshaw
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Eddie likes his walk home from work. He makes his way through the grove along the small river. It clears his head and lets him relax. When he reaches one of the many little bridges he has to cross he suddenly stops in his tracks. Someone is standing up to hip in the middle of the small river. You couldn't pay Eddie to dive into the silt but also it's the end of October?? Part curious, part worried Eddie steps closer.
The guy in the water is still completely dressed in what looks like slack and a by now very see through button down. His hair is dripping and his entire body is shivering. That doesn't stop him though from diving back into the water only to resurface an impressive amount of time late, looking frustrated and cursing quietly.
"Can I help you, man?" Eddie calls out to him and the guy spins around. Even in the dim evening light Eddie can make out the most beautiful hazel eyes.
"I'm getting a divorce," the guy calls back, like it explains anything.
"So you're what? Drowning yourself?"
"I'm not drowning myself," the guy snaps, "I can't find the fucking key."
"The key?" Eddie asks, confused before it hits him. The small bridge he is standing on is aching under the weight of all the padlocks chained to it by newly-weds who watched one too many travel documentaries about Paris and think this is the Pont des Arts. Well,
Eddie can admit that it's kinda cut to buy a padlock, engrave your initials on it, lock it and throw the key into the river, but it's also kinda cheesy and stupid if your marriage doesn't last. Case in point. The guy looks like he is about to dive in again, which is even more stupid there is no way he is going to find a key, let alone the right one.
"I can help you," Eddie blurts and the guy just glares up at him.
"You gonna come dive with me?"
"No, but I can....," Eddie hesitates and bites his lip, "I can pick your lock."
It's not something to just reveal to strangers. Especially with his aesthetic Eddie knows what it looks like. Eddie learned how to lock-pick at the tender age of eight though, when he wanted to become a magician and then he tried to pick locks just to see if he could. The guy in the water thankfully doesn't point and scream criminal!! He just gives Eddie a considering look.
"Alright," he says and gets out of the water. His wet clothes cling tightly to his body and for a second Eddie forgets how to speak because holy shit divorce dude is ripped. He shakes himself out of his stare but he is pretty sure hot guy noticed if his amused smile is anything to go by.
"So, which one is it?" Eddie asks and the guy points at a cheap, golden padlock that has SH + TH engraved on it. Not even a heart, just the letters.
"Think you can open it?" the guy asks and wraps his arms around his body.
Eddie takes a closer look. The lock is, shit he is gonna crack that baby open in no time.
"Yeah, for sure, this is quite a cheap look, so easy work," he says and takes out a hair pin before he gets to work.
"Figures he'd get a cheap lock," the guy mutters before his teeth start chattering. Without really thinking about it Eddie takes off his leather jacket and hands it to the guy.
"So you don't die of hypothermia before you can get your alimony," Eddie says and goes back to picking the lock. The guy looks very greatful and quickly slides the jacket on. Eddie very pointedly does not look because he know the sight will only distract him further. "If you get alimony."
"Oh, I will," the guy says and pulls Eddie's jacket tighter around himself. "The fucker cheated on me."
"Is he stupid?" Eddie gawks because holy shit how do you cheat on a guy like this? It makes the guy laugh and once again how the fuck do you cheat on him?? Just for that sound alone Eddie would recite vows and he never really saw himself as a marriage person.
"Yeah, he is pretty fucking stupid," the guy snorts and watches as Eddie's nimble finger work on the lock. After a very short time Eddie can feel the last bolt of the lock give way.
"So, are you SH or TH," he asks as he twists his hair pin one more time.
"SH," SH says with a soft smile. "Steve."
"Eddie," Eddie says and finally opens the lock.
"Holy shit, you did it," Steve gapes.
Promised you," Eddie grins and hands the lock over. "And I do keep my promises, sweetheart."
It feels almost symbolic that Eddie was the one to open their 'wed-lock' when he takes Steve home later that night. When they get married they don't engrave a lock. Instead, Eddie carves their names into a young tree. So their love can grow with it. They still like to pass the tree when they are old and grey, and run their wrinkly fingers over their initials, framed by a heart.
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie ficlet#my writing
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thinking about telemachus recently and how odysseus was gone for like. his entire life. strictly speaking, telemachus wasn't the child of a single parent but he may as well have been. do you think that showed through, when odysseus did finally return home?
certainly, he was always a mama's boy. no one doubted that. he had no one else, after all. there was laertes, and the men around the palace (who harbored a disgust for the horde of suitors that almost rivalled penelope's) and he loved them all dearly, but it was not the same. telemachus grew up loving his mother with all of his heart, and defending her with all his strength.
and then this man comes home, and he has telemachus' smile and he knows things that only telemachus' father would know, but he is a stranger. odysseus arrives home as a creature of myth, the misty stuff of fables that you could almost touch if you reached, but never quite grasp. telemachus does not know this man, but seeing him that day in the throne room is the first time in twenty years that penelope has shed tears of joy instead of pain, so he decides there must be something to him. he smiles at this man's jokes and listens raptly to his stories (and he does have so many stories!) but there is always that distance there. a gap in the planks of the bridge, a crevasse that's just too wide to jump across. he tries to know him, but it is not as easy as either of them would like it to be.
it is penelope that finally bridges the gap. telemachus finds her in tears again one day, tucked away somewhere odysseus would not see, and he rushes to his mother's side, but when he reaches her she cups his face the way she did when he was a boy. her hands are thinner now than they were then, and there are lines on her face that had not been there before, but behind the glimmer of tears is that spark. that strong, intelligent spark that first drew odysseus to her; that spark that convinced young telemachus that his mother could rival athena in wisdom if she wished to be so bold.
but these tears, he finds, are not the ones he expected. as penelope takes her son into her arms she whispers, you're just like him. you're so much like your father, and i am so proud.
and that sticks.
telemachus meets the stranger with his father's face and thinks, he's just like me. he watches him laugh the way he himself does, he compares his face and odysseus' in a mirror and the similarities make him smile this time. he hears others in the palace tell of the king's courage and his wit and he thinks, perhaps i can be like him. perhaps he is like me.
telemachus greets odysseus that night and calls him father, and for the first time, the word does not feel strange on his tongue.
it feels right.
#the odyssey#homer#homer's odyssey#odysseus#odysseus and penelope#odypen#telemachus#epic: the musical#epic the wisdom saga#the wisdom saga#epic odysseus#epic telemachus#epic the musical#epic
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CRASH ft. Wonyoung
wonyoung x male reader smut
11k words
When she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch.
If you were to ask her, sheâd probably say the same about you.
And yet, that doesnât stop her from calling you in the middle of the night, slurring about some shit with her manager, telling (not asking) you to come pick her up.
Youâre inclined to recommend that she fuck off and find her own way home.
But of course, you donât. (You never do).
-
âSorry boys, my rideâs here!â
Thereâs a collective groan of disappointment that ripples through the crowd thatâs formed up behind Wonyoung; each face falling one after another as they realise that ultimately none of them get to be the lucky suitor that takes her home.
Moths around a flame, unable to do anything but watch as she sashays through the neon haze towards your car. Hips sway with a drunken grace, a dangerously short skirt dances around her thighs, high heels strapped to her feet make her legs seem endless.
Itâs a view, thatâs for sure.
It probably makes the pain of rejection a little more bearable, makes them forget that theyâre being abandoned on the sidewalk with all the rest of the has-beens and âwho the fuck were you again?â
Her âco-workersâ, technically. Some you recognise, most you donât. But theyâre all basically the same insecure douchebag in a different shade of overpriced streetwear.
Youâd probably be doing the world a public service if you were to steer your car onto the pavement and run them all down.
Itâs an idea you entertain a little. Doing it would really ruin her night.
Thatâd almost make it worth the dent it would put in your brand-new car.
Still, you canât completely blame the gaggle of potential casualties, not really.
Itâs Wonyoung.
Girls like her are the reason they invented the word âidolâ in the first place, because calling her âprettyâ or âhotâ is like calling the Mona Lisa âa nice portraitâ.
It doesnât even begin to cover it.
Like the starlet she is, Wonyoung waits until sheâs at your car to make her grand exit. A turn to her adorers and a final goodbye: a casual flick of her wrist, a sweet, flirty smile and a blink-and-youâll-miss-it wink thatâll have them deep in their group chats ranting about how they definitely had a moment with the Jang Wonyoung.
You just roll your eyes. Youâve seen that wink a hundred times.
You know exactly how much itâs worth.
After all, itâs your car that sheâs climbing into, slamming the door behind her like itâs her name on the registration; leaving behind her new fan club with nothing but their dicks in their hands and their heads swimming with fantasies of what totally could have happened.
Youâre no better though, are you? The second she slides into the passenger seat, youâre judging the shortness of her skirt, eyes greedily tracing the length of her thighs, all the way up to a hint of lace thatâs destined to be ruined later.
Youâre not subtle. And in that outfit, sheâs not either.
âWhat took you so long? I swear to God Iâm going to punch the next guy that asks me âhow much of a baddie I really amâ.â
No thank yous, no pleasantries, not even a look in your direction.
To think that you used to be impressed by how quickly she could drop the act: gone is the sugary sweetness that sheâd fooled those simps with back at the club; the pretty, airheaded, âlucky Vickyâ. As fake and useless as the glasses resting on the bridge of her perfectly shaped nose.
Next to you is the real Wonyoung, the one that youâve become intimately familiar with: intimidatingly smart, unfathomably hot, and all too aware of how dangerous a woman those two traits made her.
âWhy is this car black? I thought I told you to get the red?â
You glare at her. The gall on this woman.
âWhat are you waiting for? Drive.â
Barely a minute in and sheâs setting a personal best record for time taken to piss you off; impatiently kicking off her heels, tossing them over her shoulder and into the back seat (of again: your car, not hers).
You can be just as childish: you slam your foot down, pedal to the floor, wheels screeching, and you peel off into the night. The acceleration forces Wonyoung back into her seat, scrambling for her seat belt, yelling, âWhat the fuck?â
Now sheâs looking at you. Youâre casual, offering, âOh, sorry, did I scare the passenger princess?â
âYouâre an asshole.â
âYeah, and youâre welcome,â you grumble, slowing to a more reasonable (legal) speed as you turn onto the highway. âRemind me, when was it that I started operating a taxi service for wasted idols?â
âOh, Iâm so sorry.â She rolls her eyes, puts her hands together, bows her head down low. Rich, coming from someone whoâs never had to genuinely apologise for anything in her life. âDidnât realise washed-up trainees had such precious schedules.â
Itâs a low blow, her go-to insult for you. Nothing youâre not used to; itâs been years of this, after all.
Years of Wonyoung, the living reminder of your biggest failure, making your life her personal pet project. Years of her smugness, of her flaunting her success in your face, of her demanding more from you, demanding better.
Years of you pushing back, pushing her, and somehow always ending up in the same place, the same bed, the same tangled mess of sweat and spite.
To think it all started when you saw her across that shitty practice room and one of you (you forget who, though it was probably her) said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and it was pure hate at first sight.
âCouldnât get literally anyone else? Donât you have friends?â You throw the question out there, keeping your eyes on the road, and not down at her legs, crossing and uncrossing, teasing and taunting. Â Itâs a herculean taskâsheâs practically ninety percent leg anyway; so fucking easy to admire, so right wrapped around your waist.
âTrust me, I tried. None of the girls have their license, I definitely canât call someone from the company, and the last time I tried to get a taxi the fucker recognised me and threatened to leak my address. So that leaves me with you,â Wonyoung sighs. âThe last resort.â
âWow, what an honour,â is your reply. Youâre still not lookingânot sneaking glances at her stomach, as she stretches in your passenger seat.
As an exercise, you pretend she doesnât exist. Pretend that the hem of her shirt isnât rising up, peeling back to grace you with a glimpse of her midriff, that waist, her abs tight and exerted after a night spent out on a dance floor.
It nearly worksâfor a second, you forget youâre supposed to be annoyed at her.
Right until Wonyoung laughs. Not that fake, high-pitched giggle that she knows you find so grating. No, this has an edge to it, a bite that she reserves just for you. âDonât pretend like you werenât waiting for me to call. Or were you in the middle of jerking it to my fancams again?â
Thereâs the memory, the one loss in territory you havenât quite recovered from. (A reminder: be less blasĂ© about what you choose to name your saved playlists.)
You fire back with, âYujinâs actually, but nice try.â
âWhatever, pervert.â Your attempt at a riposte doesnât work, itâs dismissed, leaving Wonyoung satisfied that sheâs won this exchange.
As for her prize, she does what she always doesâgets touchy with your property.
She busies herself, fiddling with the touchscreen on your dashboardââWhat the fuck is this playlist?â and 'Why do you listen to this group? You know all those girls are absolute bitches, right?â.
âStop that.â You reach over to slap her wrist before she starts getting too ambitious and messes with the temperature controls again.
"Hey!â Wonyoung yelps, recoiling, and then pauses. You turn to her, see her annoyingly flawless features scrunch up in disgust as she asks, âWhatâs that smell?â
You curse under your breath as you realise whatâs coming. Wonyoungâs frustratingly sensitive when it comes to scents; sheâs got a nose like a bloodhoundâand a penchant for sticking it in the parts of your life she doesnât belong.
Sheâs gone as far as 'giftingâ you every perfume youâve owned, every body wash, every shampoo, even your fucking laundry detergent.
Just another way sheâs tried to take over your life.
You give your own car a whiff, if only to see if this is just another case of Wonyoung being a brat.
It doesnât smell bad at all.
In fact, it smells sweet. Too sweet.
âEw, seriously, what is that? Is that you?â
Youâre too slowâsheâs got your forearm now. For someone that looks so delicate sheâs got a grip like a vice. She brings your wrist up to her nose, sniffing, making her way higher up your arm.
âLet it go, Wonyoung.â
Sheâs not listening at all, unbuckling her seat belt, leaning over the console, pulling herself closer to you, pushing her body against yours. Whatever little respect Wonyoung had for your personal space is gone; her nose is on your neck, her breath hot against your skin.
âIt smells likeâŠâ She pauses, getting even closer, taking a deep inhale as she tries to place the fragrance. âWhy do you smell like a whore?â
Her voice is low, coloured with a barely noticeable slur. You can feel it: the powder keg about to explode, Wonyoung getting ready to go from zero to a hundred. So, you deflect, âSure youâre not smelling yourself?â
âFuck you, I donât use that cheap shit,â she snaps. âYou fucked someone tonight, didnât you?â
You donât reply. Itâs not like you owe her one, anywayâsheâs not your girlfriend, youâre not her boyfriend, you two areâŠ
Rivals, mortal enemies, fuck-buddies, friends-with-benefits (except without the whole friendship part).
(Take your pick, call it whatever you want, or in Wonyoungâs case: donât call it anything at all.)
âWhoâwho was it this time?â Wonyoungâs fingers tighten around your arm, and thereâs that spark in her eyes.
Every chance she gets, sheâll insist she gives so few fucks about your personal life, but one mention of another woman and sheâs diving right in the mud, for once not hiding the fact that she may actually give a shit about you.
Itâs probably why you do it.
âWhoâs the slut dumb enough to spread her legs for you?â
Now itâs your turn to avoid her gaze, to pretend that having her this close isnât doing wild things to your heartrate. You make an unforced error: âNone of your business.â
âSo you did fuck someone.â Her hand moves down your arm, dragging her fake acrylics across your skin until they find purchase in your thigh, digging in hard enough to make you flinch. âYou fucked someone I know didnât you. WhoâŠâ Sheâs reading you, trying to find the answer somewhere in the stress lines of your face. âHyewon. Yena. Yuri. I swear if it was fucking Eunbi, Iâm going toââ
âGoing to what?â You challenge. You know this game. Youâve played it beforeâevery damn time she gets like this (and you know where it leads). âGoing to lie to me about your own personal survival show back there?â
Wonyoung scoffs. Itâs a throaty sound that seems almost foreign coming from herâtoo impolite, too uncouth for the elegant, refined image sheâs painstakingly cultivated. But she makes it anyway, because sheâs had a few too many drinks and youâre the only one whoâs around to see her like thisâraw, unfiltered. âThose losers? Iâm not like you, bringing home every pair of tits that strokes your ego.â
âGood to know that Iâm special then,â you smirk, but sheâs not smiling back.
No, sheâs just looking at you, in that annoying, Wonyoung way. Itâs those big, doe eyes of hers that youâve seen do so much damage beforeâmake men bend over backwards, light themselves on fire just to get her to look their way. âYou wish.â
You push on, push her just a little bit. âDrop the act, Wony. I wasnât your last resortâIâm the only one you even considered. You needed your daddyâisnât that what you were calling me before?â
âI never said that.â
âWonyââ
âAnd if I did, Iâll never say it again,â she declares, before emphasising. âNever. Again.â
But you know her better than that. You know her lies just as well as she knows yours; itâs in the quickness of her response, the defensivenessâthe vulnerability.
âI doubt that,â you say, making the most of the tiny crack in Wonyoungâs armour. âI remember you screaming it. Had you cumming like a fountainâruined a perfectly good set of sheets, you know?â
âYouâre disgusting,â she hisses, but sheâs got the same memories in her headâthat same night, so similar to this one (so similar to every night before).
The fighting, the fucking, the endless cycle of pushing each otherâs button until one of you snaps.
âAnd what about you? You got here awfully quick for two in the morning,â she says. Her handâs still on your thigh, less nails, more fingertips now, tracing patterns through the denim of your jeans. âCouldnât bear the thought of me with someone else, could you? Lie to meâtell me that you werenât waiting to get your hands on me again.â
Your denial dies before it even makes it past your lipsâyour own body turns traitor on you, provoked by her hand rising higher. Thereâs a smile as Wonyoung finds what she was looking for, the proof in the stretching of your jeans, the outline of your cock begging for more of her attention.
âAt least this part of you is honest,â she muses, fingers dancing around your growing stiffness.
You grit your teeth, doing your best to keep the car steady, managing to grind out, âPlease. Itâs like you said, any decent pair of tits does it for me. Even your tiny ones get the job done.â
Her hand freezes on your thighâyouâve hit a nerve, hit that dark part of her thatâs so desperate for validation. âYou think you can replace me? Find someone else to fill your sad, lonely nights?â
Sheâs closer now, her breath against your neck, her fingers drumming a beat right over where the head of your cock is. Itâs a heady feeling, one that you hate and crave all at once.
âWas she even good?â
You know what sheâs really asking: Was she better than me?
And you know the answer: How could anyone be?
But you donât say that. You donât need to. Instead, you reply, âItâs not a competition.â
âEverythingâs a competition.â
Wonyoungâs hand relaxes, nails retreating from your thigh, leaving you flustered and fighting against the constraints of your own jeans. She settles back into her seat, having done her damage.
And for a moment, silence reigns inside your car, allowing you to actually focus on the road. Not that it really matters, you know the route to her apartment by heartâyou could drive it blindfolded if need be. Itâs just a welcome distraction to avoid dealing with the state sheâs left you in.
The quiet survives a beat, two, and then Wonyoungâs squirming, shifting in the passenger seat.
And then she does it again.
And again.
You should keep your eyes aheadâyou need to keep your eyes ahead.
You know exactly what youâre going to find if you look over at her.
Thatâs the problem with you and Wonyoung. You know each other too well. Your likes, your dislikes. What gets you off. What makes you mad.
What drives you fucking wild.
And yet, because youâre a sucker for punishment, you still risk a glance, and see Wonyoung, leaning back in her seat, her hand sliding up her own thigh, so casually drifting up her soft, bare skin, higher and higher.
The skirt rises, inch by torturous inch, and itâs those pantiesâthe same set that was around her ankles the last time you had her bent over your couch, swearing sheâd hate you forever. The same set thatâs probably already soaked, just waiting for you to rip them off again.
You have to tell her to stop, to keep her hands to herself, to not do this to you, not now. Not while youâre trying to keep you both on the fucking road. But your mouth is dry, and all you can manage is a choked, âWonyoungââ
Her fingers have slid past the hem of her skirt, now playing with the lace thatâs the only barrier between her and open air. Sheâs biting into the plumpness of her bottom lip, staring at you, expecting your full attention, even now. Thereâs no subtlety with her, there never is, itâs one of the few things Wonyoungâs bad at.
You swallow hard, finding your voice. âWhat the fuck are you doing?â
âMaking myself comfortable,â she says, a little breathy now, as her fingers slip under the lace. âYou got a problem with it?â
Thereâs the flash of skin, a gasp as her fingers find purchase between her folds. Sheâs so wet that you can hear itâthe slickness of her arousal, the quiet sound of fabric sliding against her skin.
Youâre straining, gripping the steering wheel so hard itâs a miracle it doesnât snap in two. Her handâs dipping lower, her finger sliding inside herself; not deep, not yet, just teasing. Enough to make you want to pull over, to grab her and throw her on the hood of your car, to show her exactly why youâre the only she thinks about when sheâs lonely and desperate.
But you donât, despite the way your body is begging for you to do something, anything, to ease the ache in your cock.
Because if you stop, itâs over. You know how this endsâor rather, you know how sheâll want it to end. Sheâll want you to apologise for even being in the proximity of another woman, sheâll want you to beg for her forgiveness so that she might bestow upon you the privilege of touching her again.
If youâre lucky, she just might let you. But only if you play her games.
So you drive faster.
You push the speed limit, weaving through the mostly empty streets. Â Youâre racing to a finish line, except all thatâs waiting at the end of it is the taste of Wonyoung on your tongue, the feeling of her wrapped around you, the sweet victory of making her scream.
Itâs hellâignoring the sound of her pleasure, the wetness of her fingers working in and out of herself. Thereâs glimpses of her in the corner of your eye, sheâs still watching you. Sheâs enjoying this, loving every second of it.
âWhatâs wrong?â She asks, oh-so-innocently, even though she doesnât expect an answerâshe just likes to hear her own voice. âGetting distracted? Itâs a long, long way back to my place. No one can blame you if you need to give up and pull over.âÂ
Wonyoungâs getting bolder now, pulling her skirt up to her waist, parting her legs for you, so you can see her hand moving faster, her hips rising to meet her own touch. So you can hear her, hear the fucking sound of each stroke of her fingers inside her, punctuated each time by a wet slap of her palm against her cunt, reverberating through the car, taunting you.
âYou want it, donât you?â She throws the question out so casually, like of course itâs only natural for her to be fingering herself in your car, of course she should be doing everything in her power to make you want to drive into a fucking wall. âI can tell, youâre so desperate to touch me. Definitely going to die if you donât fuck me soon. Maybe even right here, right now?â
Your foot slips and the car swerves a littleâitâs not much, but itâs enough to let her know that youâre losing focus, that sheâs winning.
âCareful,â she laughs. âYou wouldnât want to crash before we get to the fun part.â
âYou canât wait until we get back to your place?â You finally ask, the question burning in your throat.
âNo. You need to be reminded that youâre-ah-mine,â comes Wonyoungâs answer. âYouâre going to fuck me anyway, so why not-mmph-why not save us both the trouble and get started on my own?â
âYou donât own me, Wonyoung.â
To that, Wonyoung raises a carefully sculpted eyebrow.
Itâs not even worth a proper reply. Without a word, Wonyoung reclines back into her seat and snaps open the buttons of her shirt, nonchalantly revealing the swell of her breasts, the darkened peaks of her nipples.
No braâtheyâre just there. Right there, in your faceâthose tiny, round, perky tits that youâve had in your hands, that youâve had between your teeth, that youâve covered with your cum more times than you can count.
Sheâs not shy about itânever has beenâarching her back, pushing her breasts out even further. Itâs the confidence from knowing every other idol (hell, every other woman in the world) would sell their soul to have a body like hers. So why the fuck not flaunt it?
âSomehow, I donât think thatâs true,â she says, reaching up to her chest. A palm finds her tits, pinching and rolling the sensitive nubs, making them nice and red and swollen for you.
Sheâs moving faster now, grinding down on her own hand, teeth sinking down into her bottom lip so deep youâre surprised she hasnât drawn blood. Her breaths are getting shorter and shorter, sheâs so close, sheâs so fucking turned on, sheâs so hot it hurts.
Her eyes remain fixed on you; seeing you struggle only makes her hotter, spurs her to circle her clit faster. Sheâs drinking you inâthe tightness of your jaw, the way your eyes canât decide whether to keep on the road or on her, the way you swallow, trying (and failing) to keep it together.
The worst part of it all is this wicked smile thatâs settled on her lips; thoughts of wiping it off her face with your cock flash through your mind. Sheâs just so fucking smug about it, so sure of herself.
And maybe she should be.
âAdmit it,â Wonyoung purrs. âAdmit that you need me.â
âWhy would I? Youâre just a convenient hole to fill.â Itâs not true, of course. Youâve never believed it; none of the hundred times youâve said it to her beforeâand sheâs never once been fooled.
Wonyoung is back in your ear, âYouâre a bad liar.â
Her handâs returned to your thigh, teasing closer and closer to where you really want it to be. You grunt a weak, âWonyoung, if you think thatâs going to workââ
But she doesnât listen (she never does).
She reaches for the bulge in your pants, far too quick for you to stop her from wrapping her fingers around you, from taking a hold of you and squeezing.
âSee?â She whispers, thick with satisfaction, feeling you throb in her grip. âYouâre already about to burst. You canât resist me. No one can.â
Youâre not backing down. Youâve got your own pride to think of, after all. âSave it for your fan club.â
Wonyoungâs never been one to take no for an answer. Her hand moves with purpose, sliding over your zipper and giving it a forceful tug. The sound rings through the car, and itâs an out of body experience; itâs all in slow motion as she pulls out your hard, aching cock.
Fuck.
âLast chance to pull over.â Wonyoung takes a hold of you, fingers curling around your cock with a firm grip that leaves no room for doubtâsheâs not letting go until she gets what she wants. âWho knows what will happen if you keep driving like this. Wouldnât want to ruin these expensive leather seats with your cum, now would we?â
âNot a fucking chance.â
âYour funeral,â she answers, her smile widening into a full-blown grin as she starts to move, stroking you, her hand gliding up and down your shaft with familiar ease. âOr ours, I guess.â
Sheâs not making it easyâthereâs the slow, deliberate pumps, her thumb circling the head, her fingers teasing the sensitive skin. Itâs so natural for her, so goddamn good.Â
âAre you sure you can handle this?â Wonyoungâs question hangs in the air, joining the sound of her fist pumping your cock, the squish of her own fingers plunging in and out of her cunt. Itâs a taunting metronome, the more you try to ignore her, the tighter she squeezes, the fastest she strokes you, the louder she moans in your ear. âAre you sure you can handle me?â
âIâve done it before and I can do it again,â you grit out. âYouâre going to be the one begging for it in the end. Like always.â
She huffs, and youâve found your mark. âOh, really? You think youâre so much better than me? You think you can just ignore me like that?â
âBetter than you? Easily,â you answer. âYouâre just a pretty face and a pair of legs that canât keep itself shut.â
That makes her stroke you harder, tighter now, firmer, sheâs trying to make this hurt. âIs that what you tell yourself?â
âWhat gives you the impression I even think about you at all?â
âOh, I know it keeps you up at nightâthinking about me, wondering if Iâm thinking about you, wondering if any other slut can make you feel the way I do,â Wonyoungâs leaning on you, chin propped up on your shoulder, a devil in your ear. âYou hate it, donât you? You hate that itâs my cunt that you canât get out of your head, that itâs my pretty lips that you need so badly around your cock.â
"Are you sure youâre not just projecting, Wony?â You ask, glancing down to her hand between her legs, her fingers deep in her folds, her cunt dripping with juices and making a small puddle beneath her. âLook at how wet you are at just the thought of having my cock back between your pretty lips again.â
âFuck you.â Wonyoungâs panting, short harsh breaths. Thereâs no conviction in her voice, no denial to be foundâthis dance of spite and lust has her so fucking heated. All of itâthe hate, the competition, the push and pull: itâs all just foreplay. âYouâre nothing to me. Nothing but a back-up plan, a toy I play with when Iâm bored.â
âNow whoâs a bad liar.â
âGo fuck yourââ
You donât let her finish her insult. Youâre tired of the back and forth, the games, the fucking power plays. You take your hand off the steering wheel, grabbing her by the hair, wrenching her head up to meet your eyes.
âWhat the fuck do you think youâreââ Wonyoungâs mistake is opening her mouth in protestâyou push her face down onto your cock; not giving her a chance to argue, not giving her a chance to do anything but suck you dry like the skinny little slut she is.
She chokes, hacks a cough as you plunge your cock down her throat, her nose meeting your waist, and it nearly has you emptying into her mouth then and there.
Turns out, sheâs right.
You do need this. Need to feel her perfect, pouty lips on you again, her teeth grazing against your skin, her tongue giving in and worshipping you like sheâs never done with anyone else.
You keep a hand wrapped up in a fistful of her hair, but you donât even need to hold her downâshe doesnât fight you, doesnât even make the slightest noise of protest. No, she just takes it; never mind how much her eyes water, her mouth drools.
âFuck,â youâre moaning before you can think better of it, and just like that, youâre conceding the smallest victory to her.
And it makes her smile around your cock.
You grunt in response; buck your hips, feed her your cock, make her gag (make her regret it).
You donât ease up, because if thereâs one thing you know about Wonyoung (one thing you know about fucking Wonyoung), itâs that the most insulting thing you can do to her is to take it easy on her.
Just fuck her face and behold the sight of Wonyoung taking your cock. God, her pretty lips wrapped around you, her throat bulging at your length, her teary eyes staring up at you with a mix of defiance and something thatâs eerily close to adoration.
It almost makes you forget that youâre supposed to be driving, and it takes a honk from a car behind you and a smile and a curt nod from Wonyoung to remind you of the world rushing by outside.
You pull your eyes back to the road, both hands on the steering wheel to right the car back on track, barely escaping death by deepthroat.
Wonyoung laughs around your cock, a muffled sound that sends vibrations up your shaft. You try to ignore it, but sheâs already seizing the opportunity, taking full advantage of the distraction to push down on her own accord, to take you deepâto start properly sucking.
You swerve again.
Her mouth is absolute heaven, pure and simpleâsheâs a fucking master at this. Your cockâs been in her mouth so many times before that she could probably write an instruction manual on exactly how to make you come unglued.
Too much all at onceâyouâre groaning now, unable to help it. Sheâs not even trying that hard; just taking your cock between her lips, sliding it all the way down her throat, a few gentle licks here, a swirl of her tongue there, but itâs more than enough. Itâs what keeps you coming back. No one else feels like thisâno one else has mapped out your cock like she hasâevery inch, every vein.
Itâs the rhythm that sheâs got down to a science: how fast to take you, how much pressure to apply, when to break from her pace to keep you teetering on the edge.
You can feel her eyes on you, scanning you for any sign of weaknessâthis is precisely where she wants to be. Like this was her decisionâlike everything leading up to this was part of some messed up strategy to provoke you, to make sure that your cock ended up in her mouth.
You donât get a chance to dwell on that thought, not when Wonyoungâs teeth is at the base of your cock, her cheeks hollowed out, her tongue doing these little flicks that make your toes curl.
And thereâs the question in her eyes: âis that all you got?â.
Fuck itârisk taking your hand off the steering wheel, it belongs in her silky, dark hair. Make her eyes widen, make her take you deeper, kiss the back of her throat with the tip of your cock, force these divine fucking sounds.
The noises when she gags around you, when the spit is hacked up and drooled down your cock; sheâs so sloppy, so filthy. Â
And she takes it, takes all of it.
Push her down before pulling her up by the hair, choke her, gag her, have her slobber all over your cock, make her feel you.
Wonyoung takes and takes and takes.
Itâs fucked up how youâre treating her (how sheâs letting you treat her); sheâs an idol for fucks sake. But thatâs the last concern you have on your mindâall you can focus on is how fucking good it feels to do this to her, to have her fighting for air around your cock, fighting to keep her eyes on you as you fill them with tears.
Wonyoungâs not giving up thoughâsheâs timing it, timing you. When to relax her throat to take you deep. When to suction her lips. Where to dart her tongue to find that sensitive spot along your shaft.
Sheâs battling back, in her own way, just as determined as you are to not lose this war of wills. But in the end, youâre the one in the driverâs seat.
âMmmph,â sheâs the one moaning now, moaning around your cock. Shivering in your lap, body jerking and trembling; you can tell her fingers are still buried in her cunt, playing with herself.
Sheâs so fucking shameless, so fucking pretty, even like thisâcheeks flushed, makeup smeared, eyes watering.
You want to kiss her, but that would mean separating her lips from your cock. You want to tell her how much you hate her, but the words wonât come outâtheyâre stuck in your throat, lodged between your grinding teeth.
âWaitâfuck.â You realise youâve missed your turn, a split second too late. You jerk the steering wheel, needing both hands as you pull a sharp U-turn. The tires squeal as you try to correct your error, Wonyoungâs mouth around your dick scrambling your brains.
She pulls her lips off from your cock with a hollow âpopâ. âI thought you could handle me?â
You try to replyâtry to form a single coherent thoughtâbut the chance slips by as Wonyoungâs back on the offense, back throating your cock so quickly that your vision swims.
A deep breath is what you need to keep it together. Youâre barely thinking straight, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life, doing everything you can to keep yourself from giving up (giving in to Wonyoungâs mouth).
But itâs hard. So fucking hard.
Youâve blown far past any normal speed limit, trying to keep from spinning out with every one of her enthusiastic bobsâitâs by some divine benevolence the car hasnât completely flipped over by now.
Wonyoungâs relentless, her mouthâs a fucking black hole, sucking you in, stealing every thought from your mind until thereâs nothing rattling around your skull but the feel of her wet, warm lips on your cock, and the obscene sounds of her fingers sawing in and out of her pussy, fucking herself.
Youâre almost there, and Wonyoung knows it. You can feel it in the suction of her lips, in how hard sheâs working you over. Itâs the sweetest kind of tortureâknowing that sheâs got you right where she wants you, that sheâs got you on the edge and you canât do anything about it.
Youâre not going to last much longer.
Neither is she.
So you drive. You drive like your life depends on it, because maybe it does. Maybe the only thing keeping you sane is the promise of your eventual release, of filling her mouth with her cum, of pulling her onto your lap and fucking her cunt raw until she screams your name.
âCome on, you can do it,â sheâs taunting you now, lathering your cock with just her tongue, dragging it along your length, licking you all the way from your balls to your head. Sheâs giggling as she steals the pre-cum from your tip, the fucking bitchâlike sheâs got all the power in the world.
You can see her apartment building in the distance, a beacon of light in the darkness.
Youâre almost there.
You reach for the garage remote, mashing the button as you get closer and closer (youâre going to break it). The gate sluggishly opens, and you make a sharp turn to swerve into the dimly lit building, not bothering to slow down.
You canât, not when Wonyoungâs balancing your cock on her tongue, her hand now squeezing at your base, stroking so fast, so erratic, determined to have you cum in her mouth as soon as fucking possible.
âYouâre going to cum for me, arenât you?â she asks, expectantly. âCover me in it, give me what I deserveâshow me how much you need me.â
The carâs screeching to the closest parking space, the sound echoing through the garage, as you skid between parallel white lines.
Youâre cumming before the carâs even completely stopped.
Itâs explosive; a white-hot heat searing through your veins, a roar in your ears as you shower Wonyoungâs perfect face with ropes of cum. Sheâs still jerking you off with her hand, her mouth hovering around the head of your cock, slurping up every drop she can get.
âAll mine,â she chants, greedy for it. You pulse in her hand, your cum spurting over her cheekbones, across her nose, painting over that tiny dark freckle above the corner of her mouth.
She doesnât flinch, doesnât even blink; sheâs a statue, a goddess demanding her sacrifice. Her grip is ironclad, stroking you through your orgasm, not stopping until youâre drained, until your cock is twitching in her hand and thereâs nothing left but a sticky mess plastered across her big, wide grin.
You feel the last of your orgasm pulse out of you, dripping down her dainty fingers. She licks her lips, smearing your cum across her cheek with her thumb before she sits up straight, basking in her victory.
âFuck, Wonyoung,â you manage to get out, your chest heaving, your hand finally loosening its grip on the steering wheel.
âMm-hmm,â she nods, not looking away from you, not breaking the eye contact thatâs holding you in place. âI knew you couldnât resist me.â
Sheâs not done yetâshe still has to take her victory lap.
Wonyoung pulls herself off you, giving the tip of your cock a parting kiss as she sits back in her seat. She lifts her legs upâthose endless stretches of porcelain skinâone after another, slow, dramatic, placing her bare feet on the dashboard.
Her skirt rides up, and with a stretch she drags her panties up her thighs, along her calves, and off her feet; the lace is soaked with her juices, leaving a trail of stickiness as she reveals herself to you.
The panties disappear somewhere into the backseat of your car, another spoil of war, and she spreads her legs wide, so wide, making sure you have a perfect view of her gleaming cunt. You can see her clit, peeking out from between her folds, and itâs all you can do to keep your hand from reaching over and taking over.
But this is her show, isnât it? This is all for her, all about her getting off. And sheâs fucking drowning in itâfingers in her cunt again almost immediately, so wet, so hot, so shameless in your car, so confident in her ability to get what she wants from you.
Her hips rock up and down, sheâs fucking herself in front of youâfor you. Sheâs daring you to look away, challenging you to deny how fucking hot she is.
You canât.
âIâm going to cum now.â Itâs a low hush, confident. âWatch me. Donât move. Just fucking watch me.â
Wonyoungâs eyes are crystal clear, staring deep into you with the look of a girl whoâs gotten everything sheâs ever wanted in life. Itâs that look she gets right before she shatters, and you know sheâs thereâright fucking there.
Her other hand reaches up, cradling your cheek, needing some connection, needing you to be with her. Itâs not enough to just simply cum, she needs you to see it, to be a part of it in some twisted way.
âJust look at you,â Wonyoung says, like sheâs not the one thatâs covered in your cum, thatâs not bucking her hips into her hand, working herself into a frenzy, like sheâs trying to tear herself apart. âYou canât keep your eyes off me, can you?â
And sheâs rightâyou hate her, you love her, you want to fuck her, you want to strangle herâitâs all a jumble of emotions in your head.
âThatâs itâkeep looking at meâdonât fucking take your eyes off meâfuckâyesâIâm going toââ
The only warning you get is a strangled gasp as Wonyoung cums, feeling it through her entire body, forcing her to keel over by just the force of it, making her fall into you.
Her hand on your cheek drags down to wrap around your neck, anchoring herself to you, pulling herself closer so she can smash her mouth against yours.
Sheâs kissing you, really kissing you, mouth open and hungry, all teeth and tongue, sloppy and wet. Sheâs marking her territory now, claiming you as she cums, and fuck, you can still taste yourself on her lipsâsalty and bitter.
Wonyoungâs hand is still working her clit, prolonging her bliss, and then sheâs climbing on top of you, straddling you, grinding down on your half-hard cock as she rides out the last of her orgasm.
Her thighs are sticky with her juices, her skirt riding up so high that you can see the bare, plump skin of her ass, and youâre fighting the urge to just push it aside and plunge your cock inside herâ
But sheâs not giving you that satisfactionânot yet.
Her climax dies right on top of youâher hips rolling on her fingers, her body living and dying on the last embers of pleasure.
Finally, Wonyoung stops, collapsing against your chest, and you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of her body pressing down on you. Sheâs a mess, a fucking disaster, and you hold her tight, your arms around her impossibly tiny waist, your cock coming back to life between her thighs.
Itâs intimate, almost kind of romantic in a way thatâs entirely fucked up, considering, well everything. Youâre both a mess of cum and sweat, panting against each other, intertwined together in the driverâs seat of your car, the garage lights flickering overhead like some kind of sick mood lighting.
Wonyoung laughs.
âYouâre all sticky.â She leans back, taking her finger and swiping it across your cheek, coming away with a glistening strand of your own cum, a rope that must have strayed from her face and onto yours.
Thereâs a glint in her eyes, a dirty little idea, and before you can even react, sheâs leaning in again, her tongue tracing the line of your jaw, collecting the rogue drops of you.
She rolls her hips down and over you as she does it, stirring your cock back to attention, because apparently sheâs not done with you yet.
âYouâre a fucking bitch, Wonyoung,â you reply, but thereâs no venom behind it. Youâre just stating a fact: the sky is blue, the sun rises in the east, and Wonyoung is a bitch.
Itâs just the way she is.
You can feel her smirking against your neck, you can picture the look on her faceâlike sheâs already won. Itâs infuriating, really, and youâve got to even the score.
âWhat are you going to do, take me upstairs and punish me?â
âNo,â you say, the word sticking in your throat like itâs made of honey. âNot upstairs.â
âHere?â Wonyoung looks around your car, doing a terrible job of feigning shock (as if she doesnât know what youâre about to do to her). Yes, sheâs a horrendous actress, but it would take an Oscar worthy performance to mask the heat radiating from her thighs, her cunt dripping down onto your lap. âWhat makes you think Iâd let you?â
âWhat makes you think you have a choice?â Â
A press of a button has your seat sliding back, giving you just enough room to lift Wonyoung up, hoisting her above you like sheâs a trophy you just won. Congratulations, hereâs your Grand PrizeâWonyoungâs tight body, yours for the night (yours for every night).
She canât do anything but be held by you, have her hips positioned, her cunt aligned with your cockâin your hands, at your mercy, under your control.
âWait, waitâfuckââ
And then you slam into her.
âDaddy!â
That word. That filthy, devastating word is fucked out of her mouth, a gasping scream as you bury yourself deep into her.
Youâd do anything to hear it again.
You donât bother with gentleness or foreplayâthis isnât a romantic reunion after a long day apart. Itâs your hands on her narrow hips; hers doing its best to brace herself on the roof of the car, the window, anywhere she can get a grip.
âSay it again,â you grunt, pulling her back down on you, so hard that she bounces back up, only to be met by another thrust.
âFuck you,â she spits out, but sheâs moaning with every thrust, tightening around you each time, her body betraying her words.
âFuck you, who?â Youâre laughing now, the sound thick and low in your throat as you watch her squirm in your grasp. âYouâre going to need to be more specific than that, baby.â
âYou know who,â she says, her eyes flying open, glaring at you as she catches her breath. âYou always know who.â
âThen say it.â
âFuck you, daddy.â
âThatâs fucking right.â
Her legs are trembling around your waist as you drive into her, her nails digging into the threads of your shirt. Sheâs begging you for moreâharder, faster, deeperâbecause thatâs what she wants from you, thatâs what she needs from you. Itâs always been like thisâno soft embraces, no tender kisses. Just more, more, more.
You wrap your hand around her throat, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to remind her whoâs in charge, whoâs giving it to her. You lean in, so close her eyes cross, and whisper in her ear, âThis is all youâre good for, you know that?â
Wonyoungâs response is to tense her muscles, clench her cunt around you, buck her hips to slap her ass against your thighs. Another battleground in your endless fight for dominance. Fighting for control, trying to dictate the pace, to set the rhythm, to be the one doing the fucking and not the one getting fucked.
And fuck, sheâs tight.
Her cunt, her waist, her body. God, itâs like she was built for this.
Designed to fit perfectly in the palm of your hand, to be filled by your cock, to have her skirt hiked up to her waist like a flag of surrender. Youâve got her right where you want her, where sheâs always been, where she always will be.
âI fucking hate how good you are at this,â she gasps, the confession spilling from her lips.
You laugh, âI fucking hate you too.â
Sheâs kissing you again, fingers in your hair now, scraping the back of your scalp, as she rises and falls on your cock. Reflex has your hand tightening around her throat, feeling her pulse quicken beneath your thumb, making her choke out another âdaddyâ.
Youâre fucking her like you hate her, like youâre trying to punish her for every sharp word and cold shoulder sheâs ever thrown your way. And sheâs taking it like she loves it, like sheâs been waiting for this all night, all year, all her fucking life.
Wonyoung looks so fucking good, so perfect riding you like this, itâs starting to piss you off. Her hairâs framing her face in perfect waves, not a single strand out of place, even though youâve had your hands all through it, your fingers tangled in it. Her makeupâs smudgedâyou can see the tracks of your cum on her cheekâbut she wears it like a fucking badge of honourâand like all things, it looks good on her.
Itâs like the universe took one look at her and said, ânah, sheâs too pretty to let any of that shit ruin her.â
But youâll try.
Keep goingâkeep fucking; each moan into your mouth, each push of her tongue against your own, each graze of her teeth against your skinâtells you youâre getting there.
Like youâre trying to fuck out all the spite and anger thatâs been building up between you, like you can somehow purge it from your systems and just be left with the good parts.
(Itâs never that simple.)
âWonyoungââ you start, but she cuts you off.
âIf I could just have your cock without the rest of youâwithout your stupid mouth, without that fucking look on your faceâfuck yes, just like thatâwithout all the bullshit and fightingâfuck, fuck, fuckââ
You donât believe her, of courseâyouâre not just a cock to her, the same as sheâs not just a pussy to you. But you let her have her fantasy, let her keep pretending sheâs just using you for a good time.
âYouâre such a bitch,â you murmur, making her chuckle in your ear, her teeth finding the sensitive skin of your lobe, biting down and making you hiss.
Wonyoungâs confession: âOnly because itâgahâmakes you fuck me harder.â
And it doesâit makes you want to show her, prove yourself to her, make her feel it the next day and every day after. Fuck her until sheâs nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess, until sheâs begging for you to stop. Until sheâs begging for you to never stop.
Youâre both getting sloppier now, Wonyoungâs hips stuttering as you pound that spot deep inside her, the one that makes her see stars and scream your name, the car shaking with the force of your fucking.
Itâs a badly-kept secret youâre keeping from the world outsideâthe carâs rocking, the lights inside are on, making no efforts to hide what the two of you are doing (doing to each other).
If anyone looks closely enough, if the security cameras in the garage get curious and zoom in, theyâll see your silhouettes; her body arching back, your hips thrusting up and into her.
Theyâll see Jang Wonyoung, the princess of the industry, getting fucked in the front seat of a car like some common whore.
And sheâs loving it. The danger, the thrill of being seen, the risk that anyone could walk by and hear her moan your name, her voice strained by your hand on her throat. Itâs the fact that sheâs letting you do this to her, that sheâs letting you fuck her like this, even when sheâs telling you she fucking hates it.
This momentâWonyoungâright here, is what you live for.
You want to save it, to bottle it up and keep it with you forever. You want to remember how she feels, how she tastes, the fucking sounds she makes when sheâs just about to cum. You want to replay this in your head every time youâre alone, every time youâre with someone elseâbecause even though there might be someone else, theyâll never come fucking close to her.
And then you get an idea.
Itâs a terrible idea, one thatâll surely end in disasterâlike all the best ideas.
You hold down on Wonyoungâs hips, stopping her mid-thrust, and sheâs whining, letting slip just how good youâre making her feel.
âWhat the fuck are you doing?â she snaps, taking short, sharp inhales, replenishing all the oxygen youâve fucked out of her.
You ignore her, reaching for the dashboard camera thatâs been silently facing outside, towards the wall of the garage. Itâs been switched on the entire time, waiting to record the car crash insideâyou and Wonyoung tearing each other apart.
Wonyoungâs scared. âOh no, donât you fuckingââ
But she canât stop you. Youâre already spinning it around, pointing it directly at her cum-covered face, her sweat-drenched body.
âSmile for the camera, Wony.â
Her mouth opens, but she canât muster the words. Youâre fucking her again, the camera watching everything, capturing every moan, every slight quiver of her body. Itâs a side of her nobody gets to seeâthe side youâre most familiar with.
Wonyoung at her most honest, when sheâs undeniably yours.
Just herâgetting used (using you)âand fuck, thereâs nothing more worthy to be captured and preserved for all eternity.
Her eyes dart to the camera, then back to you, her mind racing a mile a minute. You can see the gears turningâsheâs trying to figure out how to get out of this, how to win back some ground, but sheâs lost.
Youâve got her, and she knows it.
Youâre fucking her, and she has no choice but to followâwhether she likes it or not.
âFine,â she says, the admission torn from her throat as you push back into her. âBut if this leaksâif you ever show this to anyone, Iâll fucking kill you.â
You just laugh. âYou really think so little of me? Like anyone would believe it anyway.â
And you mean it. Youâre not that stupid. But the thought of having a permanent record of this moment, of Wonyoung, begging in high definitionâit has you hooked.
You canât help but add, âBut weâll always know itâs there, wonât we? Forever.â
Wonyoung narrows her brows at you, but she doesnât protest anymore. Instead, she does the opposite. She starts to lean into it.
She tips her head back, arching her spine so that her tits are pushed up, giving the camera a picture-perfect shot of her body, her chest, the stiffness of her nipplesâeverything.
Jang Wonyoungâalways the performer.
A free hand runs through her hair, flinging it back over her shoulder, and she starts to roll her whole body; fucking herself on you in a way thatâs so deliberate, so fucking pornographic.
âGod, I fucking hate this.â Wonyoung puts it on public record, eyes never leave yours as she performs for the cameraâor for you, itâs hard to tell.
âWhatâs that, baby?â You tease. "You hate how good this feels?â
âI hate that itâs you,â she says, the words forced out between gasps. âI hate how fucking hot you are.â
âThe feelingâs mutual.â
Youâll never understand it. How someone you despise so much, with every fibre of your being, can fit so perfectly around you, feel so downright incredible on top of you. Itâs a cruel joke that the universe decided to play on you both.
But you play along, let her ride you like itâs her fucking birthright, lock you in some petty staring contest, keep your mind filled with nothing but the tightness of her cunt.
Youâre both panting now, sweat slicking your skin, making it easier for her to slide up and down on your cock. Her small tits bounce with every movement, and you canât help but reach out to grab one, pinch it hard, making her wince, making her gasp.
âFuckâyou should quit whatever the fuck youâre doing,â she says, trying her best to form complete sentences through the pain, the bliss. âWork for me.â
âAnd do what?â
âI donât know.â Wonyoung looks down at you and you can see it on her face: the fucking slut is dead serious. âManager, bodyguard, assistant. Whatever I can do to keep you close so you can fuck me like this whenever I want. If Yujin can have her drummer boy, itâs only fair that I get you.â
âWhy the fuck would I want to spend all day waiting on you?â
She corrects you: âSpend all day inside of me.â
Thereâs your fantasyâmornings fucking Wonyoung in some hotel room, drinking all the juices from her pussy in the car on the way to work, having her suck your cock backstage at some concert, making her scream your name every night before going to sleep.
And then waking up and doing it all again.
Thereâs no hiding the smirk on your face. âGo fuck yourself, Wonyoung.â
Wonyoung mirrors your grin, that wild, cock-drunk look in her eyes. âWhy would I do that when I have you?â
âNo.â Youâre pulling her close, holding her body tight to you, making her feel it. âYouâre mine.â
That word againâ'daddyâ on her lips, turning into a desperate cry as her thighs tense on either side of you, her hands locking behind your neck. Sheâs holding on tight, because youâre not giving her a choice, youâre not giving her anything but what sheâs begging for.
You watch her face in the reflection of the car windowâthe way her mouth hangs open, the way her eyes flutter shut and then open again, searching for something, anything to keep her grounded.
"Fuck me like Iâm yours,â Wonyoung pleads. âYou own me? Then fucking treat me like you do. Treat me like Iâm your fucking whore, daddy.â
Itâs too much, all of it. Wonyoung: her faceâthose lips, her bodyâthose fucking legs, her voiceâthe way she says your name, how she calls you daddy, like itâs a fucking curse. Youâre so close to the edge now, so close to cumming again, cumming inside her. You can feel the beginnings of it, the tension coiling in your balls, the white creeping into your vision.
But sheâs still talkingâand so are you, you realise.
One of you cries outâholy shitâanswered with aâso fucking goodâfollowed by an exchange ofâfuck yousâandâI hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
It keeps going, this fucking, this using, this hatingâwhatever this is.
âI fucking hate youââ
âHate you tooââ
âHate how good your cunt feelsââ
âHate how big your cock isââ
âHate how perfect you areââ
âHate how much I want your fucking cumââ
âFucking slutâ"
âDaddyââ
âIâm going toâ"
"Please!"
And thatâs it.
Itâs overâyour cock pulsing deep inside her, Wonyoungâs cunt clamping down around you, and youâre cummingâtogetherâtightening and writhing and calling each other every name under the sun, except maybe the one that actually matters.
Wonyoungâs head falls back, losing control of her own body, the camera catching every glorious moment as she cums, her orgasm ripping through her in a scream that you feel in every inch of your body.
You kiss herâher tits, her neck, her jaw, her lipsâclaiming her, making sure she feels every drop of you. You hate her, you love her, you hate that you love her, you love that she needs you, you hate that you need her.
And all the while the camera keeps rolling, capturing your sweaty, heaving chests; capturing you filling her, spilling out of her, giving her the cum she so desperately pleaded for. Itâs so much more intimate than any kiss, any love confession, any of that romantic shit she sings about.
But itâs not enough. Itâs never enough.
Itâs every twitch, every shiver, every little pulse of your release flooding her. How she tenses and clenches around you, soaks you with her wetness, drowns you in her tight, drenched heat.
And she keeps calling you itâwhispering itââdaddyââover and over again, even as sheâs coming down from the high, even as sheâs gasping for air, even as sheâs forcing her tongue into your mouth.
Wonyoung slumps against you, your cum dripping out of her and down your cock, staining the leather of your car seats. You can feel the stickiness of it, the mess youâve made together. It makes you want to do it all over again.
To make her say it again, to make her scream it again.
âYouâre so fucking mine,â you murmur against her neck, kissing her collarbone, tasting the salt of her sweat.
Wonyoung just nods, too exhausted to argue, too satisfied to care. Her hand finds yours, weaves your fingers together, and you hold onto her, tight. Itâs sickeningly sweet, and yet, despite your best efforts, the insult, the quip to break the spell doesnât come.
Because in the end, you donât want to kill the momentânot when itâs so perfect.
You donât want to ruin it with talk of the real world, with the harshness of the light thatâll be waiting outside the car door.
You stay there, parked in the garage of her apartment building, the headlights dimming down to black. The air is thick with the smell of sex and sweat, the taste of it lingering on your tongues. Itâs a bubble youâre both loath to burstâbecause once it does, once it pops, youâre just Wonyoung and some guy she fucking hates again.
âThank you, daddy.â Wonyoungâs breathing slows, her grip on you loosens. Sheâs drifting off, the stress of the night and the alcohol finally claiming her.
You donât know how long you sit there, the two of you tangled together. Itâs quiet except for the occasional hum from her, a cute little sound that sheâs probably unaware she makes. Itâs soothing, almost sweet.
But reality has a way of crashing in, doesnât it?
You know you canât stay here forever. You know youâve got to get her upstairs before someone sees, before the cameras (the dangerous ones, the ones you donât own) spot you. Before the rest of the world catches up.
You ease her off your cock, she whines, her eyes struggling open. âTake me home,â she mumbles, still not fully coherent.
âAlready am, baby,â you reply, gently untangling her body from yours.
With a bit of effort, you manage to get her into an almost presentable stateâstraightening her skirt, buttoning her shirt, dabbing the cum thatâs pooled between her thighs. She watches you as you do it, through a hazy gaze, still recovering from being fucked into oblivion.
Itâs an act. Partly at least. A way to save faceâpretend that itâs only the exhaustion, that she doesnât really need you, doesnât really want to be taken care of like this. Doesnât want to nuzzle her head into your shoulder, or hug you tight, or have you kiss her on the forehead and tell her that youâve got her.
Tomorrow sheâll yell at you for it, probably call you an overbearing asshole for treating her like a delicate flower. Make fun of you for going soft, for totally falling under her spell.
(And sometime even later, in a moment when sheâs all quiet and feeling vulnerable, right after youâve fucked each other and hated each other and ended up holding each other for the millionth time, Wonyoung will say:
âYouâre the only one who can keep up with me.â
Youâll know what she means right away; youâll kiss her again and youâll answer:
âI know.â)
Because despite the fact that when she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch, youâre also kind of in love with her.
And, if you were to ask her, sheâd probably the same about you.
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âI went on a date today.â
There was quiet shuffling on the other line.
â...whyâre you telling me?â
You weren't too sure why. Maybe it was because the man that you went on a date with made you feel small, or maybe it was the way he only cared to get to know you on a vague surface level.
Or maybe it was because when you left the date, you couldn't help but remember the way Tsukishima Kei made you feel when he still loved you.
You decided to settle on, âI don't know.â
And your ex boyfriend practically laughed on the other side of the phone.
âYou broke up with me,â his tone is harsh, like heâs purposely trying to hurt you. âYou can't just call me whenever you want.â
âThen why did you pick up?â
More silence. The two of you sat in it. The only sound you could hear was the muffled noise of his TV in the background, left in the apartment the two of you used to share before you packed your things and left him.
Left the memories of the two of you behind in a place you used to call home because you couldn't take it anymore.
âYou know why.â
He sounded more vulnerable now, the lightest inflection in his voice.
He never did want the breakup. You insisted on it. You thought he would've blocked your number, but seems like the two of you were still on the same page despite all that happened between you.
âDo you love me?â you asked him, a hint of desperation in your question.
âYou can't ask me that now.â
âBut I love you.â
You blurted it out before you could regret it. Your voice shook, free hand coming up to your face to scrub at it to try and hide the tears dripping down your cheeks.
âI still love you. But I needed to leave you,â you started to ramble, not waiting for his response. âThese past six months I thought I was finally doing fine without you. I could smile again, I found myself again, Kei. I learned what type of person I could be without you--â
âSo what changed?â He snapped. âWhy did you call me in the middle of the night? To brag that you're doing so much better than me?â
The hurt in his voice was palpable, and your heart throbbed in your chest.
âNo,â you whispered, âBecause I remembered that we used to be happy.â
You heard him inhale sharply as you wiped your tears.
You used to be happy. Tsukishima Kei used to make you happy.
â...I ruined it, though.â
You could picture him on the other side of the line. He was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, trying to suppress whatever emotions were coming up. Because Tsukishima hated emotions, and hated dealing with them.
âYou did,â you agreed with him with a watery smile, âWe both did.â
âI'm sorry.â
If he had said that seven months ago, you would've celebrated. An apology from Tsukishima is like an award.
But as much as you wanted to, as much as the thought of being with someone other than him terrified you, you weren't ready to let him back in.
Your silence was too much for him, so he shakily whispered, âI miss you."
You put him out of his misery with a quiet, âI know.â
You remembered his laughter when he'd tease you and you'd pout. You remembered how his eyes sparkled when looking at you. How his kisses felt like bright sunshine on a winter afternoon.
âWhat can I do?â He practically pleaded, at the end of his rope.
You remembered screaming, crying, pictures ripped up and broken photo frames. You remembered the anger in his eyes, blazing and unrecognizable. How each of his words and insults tightened the vice around your glass heart, until it shattered to pieces at your feet.
So you did the only thing you knew how to do, and you broke his heart too.
And just as you thought you were ready to move on from him, memories of him came crashing back like a tidal wave.
âI don't know, Kei,â your free hand covered your eyes, swollen from tears. The aching of your heart was almost too much to bear.
âLet me make it up to you,â he spoke quickly, feeling you slipping away from him again. âDelete his number. Let me back in. I'll be better.â
His offer was tempting. In an ideal world, Tsukishima wouldn't break your heart again.
Was it okay to hope for ideals? Was it foolish of you to take him back, and give into the hope that things would be different this time?
âPlease, baby.â
He was genuinely pleading now, and you muffled a sob behind your palm. Your prideful ex boyfriend who never apologized and never begged you for anything was begging for the right to care for your broken heart.
â...okay.â
So you gave into him, and handed him the pieces of your heart to put back together again.
#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#tsukishima kei#tsukishima kei scenarios#haikyuu angst#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima kei angst#tsukishima x reader#hurt/comfort
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You Called My Wife?
This is a new Jake Seresin imagine, my first request for Jake and I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro
Masterlist
Summary: The Dagger squad don't know much about Jake's personal life. And when he gets hurt during an exercise, they are surprised who comes to look after him.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reaching into his back pocket, Jake pulled out the pair of sunglasses he had been carrying around with him for the last few weeks. The sun here back at home was intense and he couldn't stand the migraines it gave him. Even when he was up in the air, he often had his sunglasses on. He didn't care about the way the glasses pinched his ears or gave him splitting pains in the sides of his neck.
If Bob could wear his prescription glasses to see, then Jake could wear his sunglasses to stop him squinting so much and relieve the headaches he got that were becoming chronic.
His hands fell to his hips once his visors were perched on the bridge of his nose and he looked around.
It hadn't taken Jake nearly as long as he thought to complete his physical. They were doing physical assessments and training every other day to get them ready for their next assignment. They were going to be going against gravity, travelling up to G9 range and it would cause problems with breathing, taking in oxygen and could starve their brains for a few seconds, if not longer.
They all needed to be at their best physically and mentally to prepare for this and up to now, Jake was ready and rearing to go.
Today was training exercises on the ground rather than in the air. They were all doing different activities and now that Jake was rejoining the rest of the squad after his physical, he was supposed to be doing safety and maintenance checks.
He took a look around the open air field. Bradley was over to one side, looking like he was trying to do some physical exercises, but he kept stopping to quietly argue with Maverick who was following him around like a dark, looming shadow. Jake wasn't going to be going over there. He noticed Phoenix and Bob were at their aircraft in the middle of their maintenance. While Coyote was off to one side doing pushups; he had messed up somewhere if that was his punishment. And Jake had already passed Fanboy who was on his way for his own physical.
He busied himself finding one of the clipboards and he jogged over to his aircraft, smiling and patting his hand against the bulk like it was an old friend he was meeting up with.
He circled the aircraft like a vulture, checking the wings, the engines- which had had a run in with a flock of birds two days ago which Jake had been lucky hadn't completely ruined his left engine. He checked the wheels and made sure they were all clipped and chained down so the craft wasn't going anywhere without him.
Once all the outside checks were done, he climbed up the ladder and hopped inside.
It always felt weird to sit in the plane without his proper flight suit or his signature red helmet, but he wasn't going anywhere today. He was only turning the engine on to check everything was working and making sure he got all the right responses to show he would be ready for whatever training exercise he had to go out on next.
He slouched back in the seat, spreading his knees apart with the clipboard in front of him and the pen twisting between his fingers.
After ticking a few boxes, Jake tilted his head back and poised the pen behind his ear while his hand shifted to undo the first button on his uniform. He slid his hand beneath his shirt until his fingers found the familiar silver chain hanging around his neck.
He imbedded the ring into his palm that hung on the end of the chain, always tapping and jostling against his chest whenever he moved.
It felt safer to have his wedding ring on his chain rather than his finger. If he had any accidents and needed to be taken for a scan or for surgery, they would cut his ring off. Rings got in the way, jewellery got in the way and got lost but a chain around his neck was private and secure and more importantly, Jake had that ring as close to his heart as possible.
A soft look crossed his face as he brought his hand to his mouth and kissed the ring that had created a halo indent in the centre of his hand.
"I'll be home soon." He murmured against the ring as a picture of (Y/n) flashed before his eyes.
The last deployment Jake had been on had almost killed him. Three and a half months away from home. Three and a half months where he couldn't see, touch or feel his wife in his arms or have her lips against his or her body pressed up against his own. All he got were a few brief phone calls or five minutes of faceTime every other day, if he wasn't being shipped straight out from dawn until dusk.
He was much happier here where he could spend each night in his own bed, safe in his home with his wife. He didn't have to sleep alone or feel like he was going insane from having absolutely no physical touch or contact with (Y/n). Never before had Jake thought or believed in having withdrawal symptoms for another human being until he got married and had to face the prospect of leaving (Y/n) behind.
When he was done with his checks, Jake heaved himself up to his feet and climbed down back to level ground again.
He waved his clipboard up and down in front of his face like a fan, relishing the slight breeze it created to his melting skin. If he were back home in this heat his shirt would already be off and he would be lounging around in a pair of shorts. Or be would be on the beach in this weather. Either of those thoughts sounded very appealing right now.
He stood still for a few moments, taking in his surroundings and wondering what the next task would be, but his mind kept wandering off to the girl waiting at home for him. Exactly where he wanted to be right now.
"Bob, are you almost done?" Phoenix tilted her head back with an exasperated sigh, one hand clamped around her hip as she the other held onto the ladder Bob was perched on top of.
He was filling up their aircraft with fuel, they had half a tank but it was better to be safe than sorry because they didn't know how long they would be out on their next flight exercise. The last thing they needed was to be marked down and sent to do two hundred push ups because they thought half a tank would be sufficient.
"Almost." His voice was as passive as ever while he swiped his arm across his temple, wiping away the beads of sweat glistening in the afternoon sun.
"Bob, come on we've got other stuff to do."
He didn't know what happened.
One moment Bob was pushing his glasses further up his nose, rolling his eyes at his impatient partner calling up the orders below him. But the next, a shockwave was rattling up the ladder he was perched on and set him off balance.
His hands scrambled to steady himself before he fell off and he subsequently dropped the fuel line that had been in his right hand just as he unclipped it from the air craft that was now fuelled up. Bob scrambled for balance, bashing his legs into the side of the plane and earning a cut down his left forearm that scraped along a jagged edge on the ladder.
But it was the fuel line he was concerned with. It wasn't like filling up a car at the fuel station. The air crafts were large with tanks high up at the back. They had to use large funnel lines that looked like double sized garden hoses with a large round metal clip on the end the size of Bob's hand. That metal created a sizzling sound that sliced through the air when he dropped it.
The line swooped through the air like a bird trying to land but Bob could of cried when he heard a sickening crunch below him. He didn't want to imagine what it collided with- who, it collided with. His eyes snapped closed and he clung to the ladder, trying to gain his balance back so he didn't fall and break an arm or a leg.
The resounding crack echoed around the base and shuddered through everyone within close range. It was a sound no one expected to echo through the open air like that, it travelled far and wide and had everyone coiling in on the spot.
The metal end of the fuel line pelted down, gaining strength and speed as it swung past the ladder, lifted slightly into the air and smacked straight into the right side of Jake's head. Upon impact, his sunglasses snapped and flung off his nose and took flight on a course of their own, six feet across the base.
An awful crack shuddered through Jake's ears and rattled through his head as his eyes automatically snapped closed and his shoulders hunched up. Both arms recoiled into his chest as his clipboard slipped through his fingers that twitched and spasmed, unsure what to do as his body seemed to shutdown and recalibrate all at once.
The force sent his head snapping backwards until his neck got whiplash and his body followed his head's sense of direction, thrusting backwards until he landed harshly on the concrete floor.
Shockwaves rattled through his body causing his legs to shake and spasm out against the floor as if he was kicking and throwing a tantrum and all the air left his lungs when his back hit the floor. It took a few seconds for his diaphragm to loosen and allow his lungs to take in a deep breath, but when he did, a choked moan escaped his lips.
It felt like he'd been shot in the head.
He could feel his pulse throbbing through his temple and circulating all around the circumference of his head like someone pelting round a relay race. He could feel his veins throbbing and the blood steadily trickling down the right side of his face. The feeling of blood oozing down the bridge of his nose and around his eye socket made his nose scrunch up in disgust.
His hands curled and twisted against his chest, desperate to move but the sudden onset of trembling in his bones made it impossible for Jake to coordinate his body properly.
The trembling continued even as Jake suddenly realised he couldn't hear anything around him. He couldn't open his eyes. No sounds broke through the static barrier building up in his ears. He had no control over moving a single part of his body. It felt like his head had been severed from the rest of his body.
"Jesus Bob, what the Hell?!" Bradley spun on his heels and made into a sprint towards the three of them, Maverick hot on his heels.
The sight of Jake, laid out on his back, body overwrought with trembles and blood pooling steadily down one side of his face was a sickening sight none of them ever wanted to witness.
"I wasn't- didn't you see the ladder?" Bob hissed like a snake as he shakily slid down the ladder onto unsteady feet.
His hands began to rake up and down his thighs, wiping the sweat onto his trousers as his glasses started to fall down the bridge of his nose. He hadn't done that on purpose. He didn't just let go of the fuel line; Phoenix bashed into the ladder and knocked him off course. He would have fallen if he didn't scramble for his balance. It could just as easily have been Bob's head split open if he fell the other way or completely lost his footing on the ladder.
"I'm sorry-"
A groan spluttered past Jake's lips and stopped all their ramblings. He managed to curl his fingers around the middle of his shirt and he scrunched it up in his fists as tightly as possible. His legs continued to thrash against the floor but when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn't seem to do it.
"Oh God." He tried his best to reach his hand up towards his head but he could barely lift either arm from trembling against his chest.
Without his glasses that had been broken and flung off somewhere on the base, the sun was beating down on him with unwavering strength. His right eye was blinking furiously to try and stop the blood from getting into his eyes that were rolling to the back of his head that was pounding like a drum.
"Everyone shut up." Maverick's voice snapped through the air like a whip and stopped all their ramblings at once.
He crouched down beside Jake with Bradley on his other side with Bob and Phoenix hovering anxiously in the background and Coyote running over at the sound of commotion.
The wound looked bad. Maverick tilted Jake's head back and tried to touch his hairline to get a proper look. A large slash line went from his hairline towards his eyebrow and the skin had been split apart so neatly it looked like it had been cut with a sharp knife. Blood oozed out in every direction and splattered across Jake's temple and down his nose towards both his eyes like a jam donut had been tossed at his head.
He couldn't see his skull or any bone which was a good sign, but the blunt force could have been enough to crack his skull and give him a fracture. He most definitely had a concussion which meant he could have side effects.
He could start throwing up, he could black out or go fully unconscious, he could have a seizure if the impact was bad enough.
"Get him down to the medbay now." With a click of his hand over to the left, Coyote hurried forward and knelt down behind Jake while Bradley shuffled forward.
The pair of them carefully took one of Jake's arms each and looped them around the back of their necks.
"Alright, up. Let's get you up Hangman." Bradley looped his right arm around Jake's waist while his left hand gripped Jake's wrist. He held his breath and slowly pushed up onto his feet, slowly pulling Jake with him who looked very worse for wear.
Jake's head flopped forward as soon as he was sitting up. He groaned again, spluttering through a moan, spit forming on his lips and blood still trickling down his face. He could feel the shock setting in because even his neck was shaking now and once he was on his feet, his knees wavered and his legs felt oddly heavy and useless. He could barely stay upright and when his knees gave way, he slumped down like he was trying to sit on an imaginary chair.
His hands scrunched down around Coyote and Bradley's shoulders as each of them held his waist and kept him up on his feet.
Both Jake's feet bent awkwardly and the toes of his shoes scraped against the floor as the pair of them dragged him slowly towards the open hanger doors. He tried to move his legs and he did somewhat help them, but he relied on them to drag him along because he felt like collapsing to the floor and curling up into a ball.
He managed to find the will to open his eyes once they were inside, but the sight of the tiled floor disappearing and all the lines blurring before his eyes made his head swoon.
He found his eyes rolling around in his skull before he jolted forward with a croaky "Gonna puke."
True to his word, Jake tossed up his lunch the moment the boys paused in their quick shuffle towards the medbay. He felt a little better after that and he managed to lift his head once the three of them began their awkward tandem walk together.
By the time they were near the medic bay, Jake managed to place one foot in front of the other. He did an awkward walk and started to help them so they didn't have to heave him the whole way there.
"We've had an accident. The fuel line cracked Hangman straight in the temple and knocked him out. He threw up on the way down here." Bradley looked between the two medics idling around and waited for one of them to point towards the bed in the left corner of the large bunker space.
They trotted to the left and turned around, carefully easing Jake down until he was sat in the middle of the bed.
He felt more alive and a bit better once he was sat down. His head flopped back until the base of his head was touching the back of his shoulders and his shaking hands gripped the edge of the bed with intensity to keep himself sitting upright. It took all his effort to stop himself trembling and he tried to take deep breaths to ward off the sickness and the wave of dizziness that overwhelmed him.
"Okay Seresin, let's take a look."
Coyote and Bradley backed up until they were stood to one side. Neither of them fancied going back outside to finish off their exercises when Jake didn't look in his best shape. They would rather wait here to make sure he was alright and then head back to the rest of the team and tell them how he was fairing up. It was clear that Jake would be going home early today, he was lucky not to have been killed with that force, there was no way he was carrying on with any work today after this.
Jake begrudgingly lifted his head when one of the doctors stood in front of him. He let the man hold his chin and tilt his head from side to side to assess the damage and when he shone a pen light across his eyes, Jake winced.
A frightful yelp left his lips when the man tried to touch the wound and he reeled back with a groan.
"Afraid I'm gonna need an X-ray before I can stitch it. I'll clean the wound and get you some painkillers first." They were lucky the wound was on his head as they had a small, portable X-ray scanner in the back room they could use just to double check they didn't have to send him to hospital for urgent treatment. But if it looked okay, he could get some pain relief, be stitched up and sent home for the day.
"Great." Jake winced, trying to form a lopsided smile, but he couldn't quite manage it.
At least he would get to go home earlier than he thought.
***
"Hey," Bob groaned as sweat dripped off his body and onto a small puddle forming on the stone beneath him. His arms trembled as he tried to continue his push ups now that he was well into the hundreds. "Who's that?"
He nudged his nose against his shoulder to push the glasses further up his nose while he indicated his head to the left, signalling Phoenix's attention towards the person advancing across the base.
Maverick had told Bob and Phoenix to finish off Jake's safety checks, prep his fuel tank too and then do a set of two hundred push ups. They both knew they should have been more careful and they shouldn't have started squabbling like children when Jake was hauled off to the medic bay.
Phoenix lifted her head and glanced her eyes around, trying to find out who Bob was referring to. When her eyes set on a woman walking their way, her brows furrowed and she watched where she was walking.
She wasn't in uniform, whoever she was. She had on a baby blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts that stopped just before her knees. Her bag was hung on her shoulder, the strap clutched tightly in her hand and there was a nervous look plastered across her face.
The woman seemed to spare them a glance, noting that they were both sweating through their uniforms, before her eyes set on Maverick and she made a beeline for him.
"Mav, where is he?" (Y/n) bit her lower lip nervously when she reached Maverick who greeted her with a warm smile and a hand on her elbow.
"He's with a doctor, come with me."
(Y/n) nodded and let Maverick lead her inside the base. She couldn't quite believe how high up the ceilings were or how large the bay doors were, it was like everything was amplified as if giants worked and lived here. It felt strange to be walking round here with Maverick when Jake always said he would give her a tour round one day. Plans changed.
She had been expecting much worse when Maverick rang her and said Jake had had a 'minor accident' at the base, but knowing it was nothing to do with a crash or him being in a plane at all made (Y/n) feel better. It stopped her from having a breakdown or a panic attack as she drove down here, but she couldn't fathom what had happened. What kind of accident would her husband have when he was supposed to be safe here on the ground?
She glanced over her shoulder, noticing that the two others who had been doing press ups were now following after her and Maverick, presumably so they could see Jake too. They must be part of his team.
"What happened?"
"Phoenix and Bob, behind you," Maverick tossed a look over his shoulder and pointed his thumb in their direction. "Had a mishap when they fueled their plane. The pipeline dropped and caught Jake in the temple. I think he's got a mild concussion, but he'll be fine."
(Y/n) brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, hearing her shoes clicking loudly against the tiled floor as she followed Maverick around three corners and down a long corridor until they were in front of a medical wing.
That didn't sound too bad. That wasn't nearly as bad as she had been expecting, but it still wasn't good.
Her husband shouldn't be getting into accidents like this at work. He shouldn't be getting smashed in the head with their equipment. He was a pilot, an aviator. He was training every day to be in top physical performance and here he was with a concussion because his team had clearly lacked concentration.
It took all the effort (Y/n) had not to run ahead once they walked into a large open unit almost the same size as the open field outside. There was only one patient in here and (Y/n) set her sights on him immediately.
Jake was sat on the side of a bed, his legs swinging back and forth like a child at a doctor's appointment. His hands were clutching either side of the bed, his lips were set in a firm line and he kept squinting and closing his eyes as a doctor was stood in front of him, cleaning his wound.
Once they were close enough, (Y/n) hurried past Maverick and dropped her bag down by the foot of the bed. She didn't want to get in the way when the doctor was clearly trying to assess Jake and sort him out, but the moment Jake glanced to the left, his eyes widened and he jerked out of the doctor's grip.
"Baby." The surprise was evident in his voice and he let go of the bed to reach an arm out in (Y/n)'s direction. As soon as he started curling his fingers in a grabbing motion, (Y/n) smiled and moved forward.
Jake immediately coiled his arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reeled her closer until she had to plant her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. His fingers squeezed her hip tightly and he kissed the top of her chest before he glanced over her shoulder towards Maverick.
"You called my wife?"
The shock was evident in Jake's voice, but it was the looks of the rest of the team that made him wince. He hadn't mentioned to any of them that he happened to be married, that knowledge was on a need to know basis and as his superior, Maverick was the only one who needed to know. For emergency situations like this if Jake ever got hurt or shot down or sent to hospital.
There was no way they could let him drive home and since he had been injured, Maverick knew it was best to call (Y/n) and let her know so she could come and pick him up.
"You got concussed and you won't be able to drive home. Yes, I called your missus. You're welcome."
Maverick placed his hand on his hip and tilted his head to one side. Once Jake was silenced with that one look, Maverick nodded to himself and turned to leave. He knew none of them would be doing any more exercises today and he was okay with that, they would call it a day and start again tomorrow.
"You're married?"
"You never mentioned you're married to such a stunning girl."
(Y/n) tilted her head to the right, figuring the man that said that must be Bradley, the one Jake said was close to Maverick. He had a raised brow and his lips quirked into a smile beneath his moustache while both arms folded tightly over his chest.
She could feel the glares Jake was sending towards Bradley, squinting and glaring over in his direction before he looked back up at his wife.
With a quiet groan, Jake moved his hands from (Y/n)'s hips so he could bind his arms tightly around her waist. His hands feathered up and down her back and he pushed forward until his lips attached to her exposed chest just beneath her collar bone.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Why did you need to know?" He countered, smirking tiredly against (Y/n)'s chest and he twisted his head so the left side of his face could press down against her skin. His cheek nuzled into her chest and he looked over at the team, watching the blush that rose to Bob's face that tilted down to look at his shoes and the way Phoenix rubbed the back of her neck bashfully.
He hadn't told them because it wasn't their business, they didn't need to know. He was in love, he was head over heels in love with his wife and in Jake's eyes, she was his little secret.
He didn't want the team teasing him or asking about her or trying to make jokes that he was tied down. He had dealt with that in the past with other people he worked with and he didn't like it. He smiled when people flirted with him in bars, but he kindly turned every one of them down and didn't let them get too close. (Y/n) was the reason why.
Sometimes it felt safer to keep (Y/n) as his little secret. What they did was dangerous, they had all lost friends in this job and it was hard to bring friends and family into this life. Jake didn't know if introducing (Y/n) to his team would be too much.
For him, it felt better to keep work and home life separate.
With a sigh, Jake lifted his cheek from (Y/n)'s chest, his lips forming a thin line as he stared up at her despite the headache that was swirling around behind his eyes. He scanned his eyes around the team who were all watching on eagerly like this was their favourite tv soap.
"Darlin', this is the dagger squad," Jake waved his hand around, muttering their call signs to which (Y/n) nodded earnestly. "Guys, this is my wife, (Y/n)."
"Nice to meet you all, even under strange circumstances," (Y/n) quirked a brow when Bob tipped his head down with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Clearly he felt guilty for the accident and (Y/n) was sure she heard him mutter a soft 'sorry again' clearly directed towards Jake.
He wasn't going to hold a grudge. It had been an accident and a few stitches was much better than some of the injuries he'd gotten on this job. But he would be holding this over them in the future and he knew he had earned himself a few free beers down at the Hard Deck for this.
"How bad is it then?"
Jake felt shockwaves coursing through his blood when (Y/n)'s hands moved from his shoulders to gently cup his face in her hands.
He loved the feeling of her thumbs brushing across his cheekbones just beneath his eyes and the way her fingertips tapped behind the tip of his jaw near his ears. His lips curved into a smile, despite the aching in his temple that had gone down a little when he took the aspirin and painkillers he was given.
His eyes squinted up at his wife whose lips curved into a pouting smile while her head tilted to the side, inspecting the wound on his temple.
All the blood had been cleaned from Jake's face and neck and his head had been X-rayed and dabbed with anticeptic, all he needed now was stitches.
"What am I gonna do with you?" (Y/n) murmured softly while she tilted Jake's head down in her hands so she could pepper kisses against the middle of his temple which no doubt would be aching. She didn't want to touch or go too near the wound, she knew even a light touch was going to hurt and she didn't want to hurt him. But he leaned into her touch and groaned, tightening his arms around her waist while his hands slid further down her back.
"I can think of a few things."
"I don't think I wanna see that." Coyote ran a hand down his face and patted Bradley's chest before he began to walk. He would see what Maverick wanted them to do, whether they were all getting the afternoon off or just Jake. He murmured a soft "Nice to meet you, Mrs Seresin." And laid a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder as he passed her.
"Yeah, us neither. Sorry again, Hangman, we'll owe you a few rounds when your back in action." Phoenix waved her hand towards Jake and dipped her head before she headed out with Bob following in her wake.
He uttered a soft "Nice to see you, sorry Hangman." before he followed Phoenix, silently praying they wouldn't have to finish the last twenty six push ups they had skipped when they followed Maverick and (Y/n) down here to the medic bay.
"Well, you look like your in good hands, so I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we'll see you soon, Mrs Hangman."
Once Bradley disappeared, (Y/n) managed to untangle herself from her husband's arms, causing him to grunt and pout dramatically. His hands reached out for her but she didn't move far. She stepped out from between his legs and moved to stand on his left side near the end of the bed he was perched on. Her arm looped around his back and her hand gave his shoulder a squeeze while she kissed the good side of his temple.
"When can I take him home?"
"I'll just do the stitches and then he's all yours."
Jake couldn't hide the grimace that flooded his face when he saw the needle and thread. He didn't like the inconvenience of stitches. His eyes briefly glanced up at (Y/n) before he shimmied round on the seat so his back was towards her. And he slowly reclined his head until the back of his head was settled down on (Y/n)'s shoulder.
He did his best to keep his head steady and his eyes fell closed when he saw an injection needle coming close. The numbing agent to make the stitches more bearable.
A low whistle passed his lips and when (Y/n)'s free hand curled over his thigh, Jake reached down and curled his hand over hers. He squeezed tight and tried to take slow, deep breaths when the needle finally started puncturing through his skin. It didn't exactly hurt, but he felt a sharp sting and each time the thread was pulled tight, Jake could feel his brow lifting as the skin was dragged back together.
Six stitches later and (Y/n) could barely feel her hand from how tightly Jake was squeezing it. She leaned her head down and kissed the top of his head, nudging her nose against his soft wavy hair as Jake finally opened his eyes.
"You're good to go with a mild concussion, Seresin. No flying for twenty-four hours, and if you go any higher than G7, I'll need to see you back here for a check over."
"Copy that."
"Thank you for patching him up."
When Jake hopped up from the bed, (Y/n) moved her arm lower to secure around his waist and she pressed a quick kiss to the side of his jaw which caused his lips to pull into a wide grin. He draped his arm over her shoulders, feeling much better than he did earlier.
The last thing he wanted to do was lean on (Y/n) and have her dragging him out of here like the guys had heaved him in earlier. He could walk on his own two feet again.
"That's going to leave a scar." (Y/n) murmured softly, reaching her left hand up to graze her fingers over his brow just beneath the row of navy blue stitches on his temple. It wasn't going to leave a dent or a prominent, deep line, but it would leave a faint streak of white like a dash of paint across his skin.
She pressed another kiss to Jake's jaw until he tilted his head down and captured her lips in a soft, burning kiss instead. "I know," He muttered softly against her lips, kissing her again and again as they walked as slow as possible out of the base.
"But I know you love my war wounds."
#imagine#jake hangman fic#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin#top gun hangman#hangman x reader#hangman imagine#jake hangman seresin#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick
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what if rafe and reader are more than friends but they didnât really put a label on it and even top and kelce noticed but rafe still has the occasional hookup and one night when reader was js thinking abt stuff and then she realizes that shes inlove with rafe but when she came over to tannyhill to confess and rafe answered with his hair all messed up and him shirtless and he basically smelled like sex and when rafe asks why shes there she randomly just runs away and cries in her car while driving home so basically just angst (does that make sense idk)
you feel like your going crazy, standing at tannyhillâs front stoop twiddling your thumbs.
your relationship with rafe cameron is complicated; youâd almost call it a situationship, but you couldnât put a label on it. youâd been going to all of his parties to serve as arm candy, posed with him at the golf course, and hooked up with him more than once. itâs beyond casual, but he has yet to pop the girlfriend question. even with his little commitment, youâd been finding it hard to keep your mind off of him â or rather, what the two of you had done together. you have to mean more to him than heâs letting on.
so, you knock on tannyhillâs giant glass front door again, biting your lip nervously as you look over the texts youâd already sent him to let him know you were coming.
âhey! just thinking ab u.. are u free tn? <3â you asked right after work, hopping in the shower in hopes you could head straight to his place after.
âbusy. work shit. u free on friday?â
âoh idk. sucks we cant do tn, i miss u.â you followed your message with a picture of you sitting on your pink bedsheets, posing in the mirror to show off your silky pajamas. you thought he just needed a little convincing, but he didnât respond.
âcan u call me before bed? sorry, i know u said ur busy.â
by then it had been an hour or two, still no response from rafe. you were pacing around your room. all you wanted was to spend time with him, even if that meant lounging around while he works. anything would do, you just couldnât stay away.
you came to the conclusion had to show him how much you care somehow, and what better way than to go to tannyhill and confess your love for him â it would be like a romance movie, heâd probably be exhausted from work and happy to see you by then!
âiâm sorry if this is sudden, i just feel like i really need to see you. iâll just drop by for a second xoxo see u soonâ
suddenly, the front door swings open, revealing a very disheveled rafe cameron. his bangs are a mess, sweaty and strewn across his forehead. his whole face is red, his lips swollen, and all heâs wearing are blue flannel pajama pants. youâd seen him like this before, pussy drunk and stumbling around a dark room. your heart deflates as he pushes open the front door, familiar blue eyes squinting at you through the night. âthe fuck are you doing? youâre gonna wake up my fuckinâ dad.â
âwork shit, huh? really, rafe?â you snap, looking him over completely disgusted. âwhatâre you dââ
ânah, nah. i told you i was busy â did i not?â he cuts you off, holding a finger in your face and grabbing your upper arm with the other hand, making you jump. âcouldâa kept yourself from all this if you just listened to me, right? right?â he jostles you, like he could shake a response out of you, but youâre frozen. he lets you go at the sight of your face, squeezing the bridge of his nose. âfuckinâ figures.â
âare you.. high?â you pull your knit cardigan tighter around your shoulders, tears already beginning to brim your waterline at the utter betrayal.
rafe recoils, acting overly offended to take the heat off his obvious cheating. âyouâre gonna talk to me like that at my own goddamn house? do me a favor â go home, and iâll think about callinâ you.â
âdonât bother. asshole.â you cry, turning away. the last glimmer of hope you have is snuffed out when you hear the glass door slam behind him, leaving you alone once again.
defeated, you retreat back to your car, wiping your tear stained cheeks pitifully. you should have known, rafe cameron is a player.
âș do youâŠ
⥠hear out rafeâs apology
OR
⥠tell jj what rafe did
#thanks for the message! ââĄâ§âË.#anon#OOOO this ask is beautiful#toxic rafe is.. well yes!#obx#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#minors dni#tw cheating
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