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clarisse0o · 1 month

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Camp Wiegman-Part 45

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 6k

Masterlist

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Thursday, February 4th; 9:30 AM - Parking.

Lucy revved her car up to the entrance where my mother was waiting for us. She was talking to the elderly lady at the reception, someone I’ve always liked. One of the few here, actually.

"Move to the back."

"What? Why?"

"You’re not seriously going to let your mother sit in the back, are you?"

The back door opened at the same time. Before I had a chance to react, my mother climbed onto the seat and closed the door.

"This is quite a car you have!"

"Thanks," she smiled proudly. "But you don’t have to sit in the back. Ona will give you her seat."

"Oh no! I’m perfectly fine here. And for the love of God, stop being so formal with me! It makes me feel ten years older."

I held back a laugh as I saw Lucy's expression. She definitely wasn’t expecting that response, unlike me. My mother has always been very friendly with my friends, even when we’re not on the best terms. Lucy gave up the battle and resumed driving through the streets of Manchester. On the way, she suggested we take a stroll down a pedestrian street, which seemed to delight my mother. I was pleased as well since I hadn’t had a chance to visit it yet.

"So... How long have you been doing this job?" my mother asked.

"This is my fourth year," Lucy replied. "I was trained for a year. I became independent quickly."

"Is this what you’ve always wanted to do?"

"Oh no," she chuckled. "It’s just a transitional job. My best friend and I are working on a project. We plan to start our own business."

The news caught me off guard, and I had a hard time hiding my surprise. She had never mentioned this to me before. Starting a business is a big deal. It takes a lot of motivation, but I’m not worried about Lucy in that regard.

"In what field?" my mother continued.

"Sports," she smiled. "We’re planning to open a gym with training programs and classes," Lucy explained. "Everything’s starting to come together... If all goes well, this will be my last year at Camp Wiegman."

"What!? Seriously?" I exclaimed, unable to hold back.

Silence fell after my unexpected reaction. It was already a lot to learn about her project, but finding out that this would be her last year? It was a complete shock. Lucy glanced at me briefly with a small smile.

"Sorry for breaking the news this way. We were struggling with the bank, but I just found out a few days ago that our funds to start the business have been released. So, it’s recent news."

"Hum..."

"Oh, don’t look so down. You know what you need to do now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you have no choice but to get your diploma this year. I want us to leave this school together."

"Of course... Things aren’t looking too good right now, though," I muttered.

"Defeatist. Just because you started this second semester off poorly doesn’t mean you won’t get your diploma. I’m going to make you work, just watch. We’ll even start tonight," she announced, making me groan.

"Seriously?" I complained. "Oh crap, speaking of studying! I had exams today and tomorrow!" I realized. "What am I going to do!? Do you think they’ll let me make them up?"

"Of course," she rolled her eyes. "That’s good news. We can study the subjects together this weekend."

What did she just say? Judging by the way she stiffened, she seemed to realize her big mistake. There’s no way we’re spending weekends together. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, making me uncomfortable. I noticed her hands tightening on the steering wheel as my mother questioned us.

"This weekend?"

"Wiegman requires me to stay at school when Ona is there," Lucy replied instinctively.

I released the breath I had been holding until then. I had forgotten that Lucy knew how to get out of awkward situations. The best part is, she does it without lying. I immediately backed her up by continuing:

"Bronze knows I struggle with some subjects, so she sometimes keeps me at school to work on my courses together," I said, fully aware that Lucy keeps me without official permission.

"Is that why you don’t come home as often?" my mother asked. "Joan keeps asking about you."

Joan... Oh my God, I’ve completely forgotten about him these past few days! I was so obsessed with my problems that I didn’t even think about my little brother. I felt a wave of regret. I sighed, running my hand through my hair.

"I’ll call him as soon as I can... How is he?"

"He’s fine."

"And the truth?"

I saw surprise in her eyes through the rearview mirror. As if a simple "he’s fine" would satisfy me. I hadn’t checked in on my brother for a month. The least I could do was ask now. Especially since he’s probably been feeling down, not having seen me for a while.

"He’s been having a lot of tantrums since you’ve been gone, and he sleeps in your bed a lot... he misses you terribly. You should come back to Barcelona sometime. This weekend, for example. We’re going away for the weekend with Marcus. You’ll have the house to yourself."

"When exactly are you leaving...?"

"You won’t see me if that’s your question. We’re leaving Friday afternoon and returning Sunday evening."

A small smile crept onto my lips. I discreetly glanced at Lucy, who had the same reaction as me. She must know what I’m thinking. I haven’t set foot in Barcelona for a month since she forbade me because of Feli. It’s about time I went back, and if she can come with me, that would be just perfect. It’s not an opportunity that will come up often.

"It’s not up to me to decide that kind of thing," I simply replied. "As I just told you, Bronze has the final say on my outings. We’ll have to discuss it first."

"We’ll talk about it when we get back," Lucy confirmed. "For now, wipe that silly smile off your face. I haven’t said yes yet. I just told you that you need to study."

"Oh come on! Think about my brother," I said, pulling an adorable pout.

"Playing the puppy dog, really Ona? You should know that’s not going to make me soften up."

I groaned, crossing my arms. She hasn’t said yes, but she hasn’t said no either. So, I still have hope. If it was a no, she would have already said so. Or maybe she’s uncomfortable with my mother’s presence and doesn’t dare say it. That’s one possibility. I can tell she’s not as comfortable as usual.

"Stop it," she growled.

"Stop what? I’m not doing anything."

"Yes, you are. You’re looking at me. It’s distracting me."

I hadn’t even realized it. To annoy her, I kept doing it while leaning against the car door. She furrowed her brow but didn’t take her eyes off the road. I smiled at the sight. Lucy is such a beautiful young woman. I’m lucky to have her. We finally arrived at a red light near downtown, where she took the opportunity to push down on my knee that I had lifted up.

- "Sorry," I mumbled, feeling sheepish.

She sighed softly, engaging the handbrake and shifting into neutral. The traffic lights here always take a while. I’m starting to know my way around this city, having come here so often. She turned slightly to look at me.

- "Just because you're banged up doesn’t mean you’re getting special treatment."

- "Oh, I know that, don’t worry about it, Commander!"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. It's crazy how much I enjoy provoking her. She seems to hate that nickname even more than before. Good to know if I want to tease her. I suppressed my smile at the thought, not wanting to provoke her further.

- "Sorry, I can’t help it."

- "Hmm."

She settled back into her seat as it was time to drive again. I did the same, glancing into the rearview mirror. Bad idea, as I caught my mom’s eyes staring at me with a strange expression. I pretended not to notice and focused on the suddenly heavy traffic.

- "Where exactly are we going?" I asked.

- "To the pedestrian zone downtown. It’s nice to see. There are also some good restaurants if you’re interested."

- "We trust you completely," my mom replied.

Lucy managed to get us out of the traffic jams thanks to her knowledge of the side streets. I should memorize them one day if I plan to live here. Then again, with my sense of direction, I’d probably still get lost. Lucy finally parked in a spot that wasn’t too crowded or too far from where we were headed. I took a deep breath before getting out. Here goes my first mother-daughter moment in ages.

Thursday, February 4th; 12:30 PM - Restaurant.

This morning was full of surprises. I’m still struggling to process it all. Just yesterday, I was on bad terms with both my mom and Lucy, and now, here I am, sitting with them around a table. I expected the morning to be a disaster, but against all odds, it went smoothly. No one brought up any sensitive topics, which was for the best. Even so, it was exhausting. I could have collapsed on the table when we arrived, but I restrained myself to avoid Lucy’s reprimands. For some reason, she kept putting me in my place in front of my mom. I guess she just wanted to assert her role, but her reactions were often over the top.

In any case, I’m glad it’s all over. My mom insisted on going shopping. The street was lined with stores, so she wanted to enter every one that had something she liked in the windows. Let’s just say I’ve never shopped this much in one morning, let alone with my mom. Lucy was probably right in saying that she was trying to rebuild our relationship. She bought me a ton of clothes. I definitely have enough to restock my school wardrobe. I started to enjoy it once Lucy joined forces with my mom. She was lucky to have Lucy help me survive the onslaught. Lucy also gave me her opinions whenever my mom wasn’t looking. The fittings were difficult with my injuries. My abdominal pain was so intense that Lucy had to help me more than once. Luckily, my mom was too busy finding me new outfits to notice.

- "Have you decided what to order?"

We all looked at each other before nodding to the waiter. I settled on a Caesar salad, not feeling very hungry today. Lucy seemed to be on the same page since she ordered the same thing. My mom chose salmon. The waiter jotted down our orders and left.

- "Are you sure you girls don’t want anything else?"

- "I’m not very hungry."

- "That’s surprising, you’re usually always hungry," Lucy teased.

- "Hey! That’s not true!"

- "It is. You’re a bottomless pit," she said, raising an eyebrow.

I stuck my tongue out at her and puffed out my cheeks. She pinched them playfully. Damn, she’s way too adorable.

- "I’m surprised to see Ona so open with you," my mom commented.

- "It wasn’t easy," Lucy replied honestly with a smile. "It started with floor scrubbing and arguments—"

- "Don’t exaggerate," I interrupted. "You just made me clean a bathroom and some toilets," I retorted.

- "Oh no, scrubbing is the right word," she insisted with a mischievous smile. "I’ve never seen anyone do it so well. Anyone else would have done a sloppy job."

Is she joking? I remember that day like it was yesterday! It was my second day, and she pushed me to the limit by making me clean a locker room after my classes. I didn’t think my work was perfect, but Lucy had stopped me. I thought it was because it was time to eat, but it looks like I was wrong.

- "Don’t make that face. It was a good lesson for you back then. You taught me that you could be very meticulous."

- "You were testing me?" I asked, offended.

- "It was more of an assessment. Anyway," she continued before I could respond, "all Ona needed was a bit of attention, and I gave it to her. It was my job as a supervisor, but I quickly grew attached to her and her story. That’s what built her trust in me."

- "She confided in you?" my mom asked.

- "Yes, mom," I answered myself. "I confided in her."

- "I wanted her to see a therapist for a long time, but if I had known all she needed was a lovely young instructor, I would have changed my approach," my mom joked.

Lucy laughed at her comment, while I found myself embarrassed. A strange feeling washed over me. She’d never been so complimentary about my friends before. And we’d never managed to have such a pleasant time together. If it happened before, I don’t remember. It felt like Lucy’s presence changed everything, and that made me happy.

- "To be honest, I also considered that idea for a while," Lucy admitted once she calmed down. "I mean, about the therapist," she clarified. "But knowing Ona, I knew she would resist, so I didn’t even bother suggesting it."

- "Good thing you didn’t!" I replied. "I’m not sick; I don’t need to see a doctor."

- "No one said you were sick," she rolled her eyes. "It’s just that seeing a therapist might have helped. I sensed you were in a dark place more than once, and it could have done you some good, but whatever."

- "Hmm," I sulked slightly. "Just so you know, I’d much rather confide in you or Mapi than in some stranger in a lab coat."

- "Oh my," Lucy mocked, quickly joined by my mom.

I didn’t understand why they were laughing. Maybe my reaction was exaggerated, but that’s how I feel. There’s no way I’m talking about my problems with a stranger, even though I’ve gotten better about it. Back when I first came back, the idea was unthinkable. I shut down just at the thought of outside help. I barely left my room, so there was no way I was going to venture outside the house. My mom eventually gave up, realizing I wouldn’t change my mind on the matter. I turned to Lucy, who gave me a sad smile. Her sorrowful eyes affected me deeply. I didn’t mean to make her sad, but I’m so relieved that someone finally knows my secret. A weight has been lifted off my shoulders, but it’s clear it has been placed on hers instead. I hope she’ll be able to process it quickly. Thankfully, the server arrived with our meals, ending our discussion. That concluded the conversation as we wished each other a good meal and began eating. My mom restarted the conversation after clearing her throat.

- "So… this might not be the right time to bring this up, but… I’m curious why you chose management as a class option. I imagine Lucy had something to do with that choice."

- "That’s a slippery slope, mom," I warned. "The last time we brought this up was at Christmas, and it didn’t end well."

- "You didn’t tell me about that," Lucy whispered, making sure only I could hear.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, remembering that I hadn’t mentioned it to her. Mapi wanted me to call her that very night, but I didn’t want to. It was a holiday, and there was no way I was going to bother her with my problems. I hadn’t brought it up again since.

- "I’m not going to judge your choices anymore, Ona," my mom continued. "It was just a simple question because it’s surprising. You were never very fond of math, as far as I remember."

"I didn’t like science either," I retorted. "But if you really want to know, it was a purely strategic choice. Management is always useful. Especially when you want to become independent quickly. »

I feel Lucy’s hand tighten on my thigh. She’s probably afraid I might lose control. She’s probably right, as I tend to snap when it comes to my mother. Her touch instantly calms me and even reassures me. I know I’m not alone.

“You want to go into the art field, don’t you?” she asks me.

“If I may,” Lucy interjects, “I’m the one who encouraged her in that direction. It might be a risky choice, but…”

She pauses for a moment to look at me before continuing with a smile on her lips.

“I would’ve preferred to tell her first, but you’re her mother, so you have the right to know as well… I’ve got a good chance of finding her some support to get started in that field.”

Her announcement makes me choke. I’m not sure I heard her correctly. Lucy helps me as I cough, patting my back and handing me a glass of water. I down it in one gulp to clear my throat, while she discreetly rests her hand back on my thigh.

“I didn’t think it would have such an effect on you,” she laughs.

“What do you mean by ‘support’?”

“I have a friend who knows people in the field. I gave him one of your sketchbooks.”

“You did what?!” I exclaim.

“Oh, listen to me before fixating on that detail,” she scolds. “He passed it on to an expert who thinks you’re very promising! You could thank me instead of complaining.”

“Where did you find it?”

“Maybe in your closet full of sketchbooks?”

She went through my closet… in my room? When? Did she see all the drawings I’ve done in recent weeks? Damn. I blush just thinking about it. I lower my head to avoid my mother noticing. Most of the sketches are of her, or places and landscapes we’ve seen together, from every possible angle. Deep down, I was desperate and just wanted to reconnect with her. My art is always better when my feelings are involved.

“I took the least personal one,” she tells me, tightening her grip on my thigh.

“You saw everything…” I breathe out as if it’s obvious.

I can’t believe it. I would’ve preferred if she had asked me before doing something like that. It’s way too personal. Yet, I can’t even be mad at her.

“What would happen if the professional took an interest in Ona?” my mother finally asks.

“I’m not exactly sure. My friend mentioned mentoring her or possibly helping her get into an art school to refine her skills. The man was very interested and plans to show it to his boss. There’s a good chance they might take her under their wing. Anyway, the most important thing is that she gets a foot in the door so she can start and get noticed.”

I’m still struggling to believe it. If she did all that, it’s to give me a golden opportunity for my future. I don’t know who her friend is, but I’ll have to thank him properly. My mother seems completely understanding of what Lucy is saying. It’s very surprising. I didn’t think she’d take it so well when she’s always preferred me to follow in her footsteps.

“I guess if it works out, she’ll stay here?”

“It’s up to her to decide…”

“I’m likely to stay here in almost any case, Mom. I like it here, and my new friends all have plans to settle down here. It’ll be my fresh start. It’s what you wanted, right?”

I’ve never been so clear about what I want for my future as I am today. The others talk about it all the time. I already know Alexia will do anything to stay here to be with Jenni. She’s subtly trying to convince her sister to stay too. As for Leah and Alessia, they already live here. Just like Lotte, who lives with her father at the school, along with Patri and Claudia. And then, of course, there’s Lucy. She’s my main motivation for wanting to stay. I’m not sure I want to live with her right away, for fear that things might move too quickly, but I’ll find a way to stay here regardless.

“I guess you’ve already made up your mind…”

“I never said that,” I sigh. “I’m just thinking about it, that’s all. You’re the one who sent me here. I just created the life I like.”

“It’s obvious,” she smiles sadly. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. That’s why I want to thank Lucy, who’s surely a big part of that. Especially with her hand on your thigh at this very moment.”

Damn. How did she notice? Lucy was so discreet. She immediately removes her hand, making my mother smile. I don’t even dare look to the side. I’m sure Lucy is just as panicked as I am.

“T-that's not what-, Lucy stammers.

“Oh, come on,” my mother interrupts her. “I wasn’t born yesterday! I already knew about Mapi, if you’re still wondering, Ona.”

I open my mouth to speak, but my mother beats me to it.

“I don’t blame you for keeping quiet. I completely understand why, given our situation, but try not to lie to me again. You tried to be discreet all morning, but your looks and gestures when my back was turned were obvious.”

“I swear I-,” my girlfriend tries.

“You still dare to deny it?” my mother gently teases.

Lucy sighs and finally looks at me. I’ve never seen her like this… So embarrassed? Worried? Her behavior affects me even more than before. She nervously runs her hand through her hair.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll be honest then. I tried to ignore your daughter, but I simply couldn’t.”

“Please, feel free to address me informally. You’ve done so well up until now.”

Lucy grimaces slightly. The situation must be different for her now. I’ve never seen her so uncomfortable. It’s my turn to place my hand on her thigh to reassure her. I thought she would remove it, but she doesn’t. She takes it and intertwines our fingers. I didn’t think we’d have to have this conversation so soon.

“If you want to report me to Wiegman, I’ll accept the consequences, but there’s no way I’m staying away from your daughter.”

I hadn’t even thought of that. I look at my mother with a panicked expression. Would she dare? Her face is unreadable until a small smile appears on her lips.

“That was never my intention. Ona would never forgive me if I did something like that,” she says with a genuine smile. “It’s a beautiful gesture of love, in any case. My intention was just to confirm my suspicions, and it seems I was right.”

Lucy’s grip on my hand loosens slightly. I think her wave of panic has passed. She gently caresses the knuckles she had just been crushing.

“So… I mean, it doesn’t bother you that we’re together…?” I ask uncertainly.

“Why would it? Ona, I know we didn’t always see eye to eye, but I’ve never wanted anything but your happiness, even if you have a hard time understanding that. If Lucy is the one who makes you happy, I’m not going to stand in your way. I should be thanking her for bringing my daughter back.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for. She makes me just as happy.”

I don’t know what to say. So my mother knew all along, and I didn’t even realize it. Maybe Mapi told her, or maybe I’m less predictable to her than I thought. We weren’t on good terms, but her opinion still mattered to me. It could have completely torn our relationship apart, which is why I was afraid to tell her. In any case, this conversation was unexpected. Dimples form on my girlfriend’s cheeks as she smiles. I lean in to kiss her, not caring if my mother is watching. It doesn’t last long, but it’s enough to convey all my gratitude for facing this with me.

“So, how long have you two been together?”

Lucy and I look at each other for a moment before a small laugh escapes us. It’s probably the tension releasing.

“To be honest… Only since last night,” Lucy admits.

“Oh… I expected it to be longer than that,” my mother says with a hint of disappointment. “And how old are you? If it’s not too intrusive.”

“Mom,” I groan, rolling my eyes.

“It’s okay, Ona,” Lucy giggles. “I’m turning twenty-six this year. I’m older, but it’s never bothered us until now. Ona is very mature for her age… Stubborn when she wants to be, but mature.”

This is the first time she’s ever said that. I didn’t know she thought that about me. She usually calls me a “cheeky kid.” I look at my mother to see her reaction. She just smiles and nods. She doesn’t seem to want to contest it. She was always interested in the people in my life, which is why I was afraid to tell her about my orientation. When I was a teenager, I sometimes brought home a few boys, and that was the only time she asked questions and seemed to care about me.

“It seems you’ve found your rare gem, Ona.”

“I hope so. She scares me sometimes, but otherwise she’s perfect.”

- "Hey!" complains my girlfriend.

- "Sorry, but I used to think of you as a tyrant at first," I admitted.

- "Nice," she mutters.

Our conversation is interrupted by laughter, not from us, but from my mother. We look at her, unsure of how to react. I gently stroke Lucy's hand with a smile.

- "You two are adorable. Since yesterday, you say? You don’t seem like it, given how you act around each other."

- "We kind of delayed things because of me," Lucy admits, briefly glancing at me.

- "You're definitely welcome in Barcelona this weekend, since that's probably what's going to happen," my mom teases us.

- "That wasn't my intention..."

- "But you knew I was going to suggest it," I said. "You're not going to make me beg, are you? She’s giving you her blessing!"

- "And why not?" she raises an eyebrow. "If I'm supposedly a tyrant, you might as well beg."

- "You’re impossible."

- "And you're a fool."

I groan in frustration. I’m sure she would be capable of saying no. I move closer and kiss her on the cheek.

- "I’m sorry for thinking that. You know, of course, that I don’t believe it anymore. Now that you’ve had your apology... Will you come to Barcelona with me? Please?"

- "Hmm... I don't know," she teases with a smirk.

- "My mom is giving you permission to come," I repeated desperately.

Seeing that she only responds with a smug smile, I pout and return to my meal. I have to let go of her hand to pick up my fork, which doesn’t seem to please her. But I don't like being teased this much either. I hope she won’t refuse to let me go home if she decides not to come. My priority is to see Joan now. I wouldn’t want her to be mad at me for forgetting him.

- "We’ll talk about it later, okay?" she says more calmly.

- "It’s already decided. Either you come with me, or I go alone," I muttered.

Lucy sighs, catching my attention. I know she won’t let me go alone given the circumstances.

- "Fine. You win."

- "Really?" I asked, more excitedly than I meant to.

- "I suppose, yeah," she says, shrugging nonchalantly. "If I’m allowed," she adds, looking at my mom.

- "I don't see any problem with it. My daughter is an adult; she’s old enough to handle her love life."

- "See! So, you’re coming with me?"

- "Alright, alright."

- "Oh my God!" I exclaimed, jumping into her arms. "You’re the best!"

A sharp pain shoots through me because of my position, but it doesn’t stop me from kissing her cheek repeatedly. I’ve wanted her to see my world for so long. Now, that’s one thing that will finally happen.

- "But I haven't forgotten about your studying."

- "Are you serious?" I groaned. "Can’t you leave your responsible side behind for once?"

- "No. I’m not repeating a year because of you."

- "I’m not asking you to do that."

- "But I’m not letting you repeat a year on your own either. Who knows what kind of disaster that would be. I guess we can study tonight and tomorrow."

- "Good idea. That way we can relax this weekend."

- "That depends on how much you get done."

I roll my eyes as she laughs. Well, she’s right anyway. I didn’t start my second semester off well, and I need to get to work if I want to succeed. Especially after what Lucy just told me about my future. The rest of the meal continues mainly with conversations between my mom and my girlfriend. My mom is very interested in Lucy’s life and, surprisingly, in mine here as well. Maybe we’re finally ready to move forward. I still think Lucy’s presence has a lot to do with it. My mom must really like her. She’s nothing like Feli or my other boyfriends. She’s smart and full of charisma. I’m lucky she chose me as her girlfriend. To think she’s helping to solve all my problems with my mom.

Thursday, February 4th; 4:00 PM - Lucy’s Room.

I smile as Lucy collapses onto her bed just after we enter her room. For a day that was supposed to be relaxing, it was surprisingly busy. We just got back. Lucy kindly offered to drop my mom off at the airport after lunch. They connected immediately. We stayed with her until she took off. My mom took the opportunity to buy our tickets for this weekend. She got three after we discussed it with Lucy. I noticed she was uncomfortable with the idea of coming to Barcelona, so I suggested we bring Ingrid along. I like her, and I’ve heard she’s getting closer to Mapi. It’s a chance to thank her and make up for things.

- "This day was so unexpected," Lucy comments, pulling me out of what must have been an intense stare.

Her smile widens, probably thinking I was watching her. I blush and look away. That’s probably not the best way to prove otherwise, but it was an automatic reaction.

- "Yeah... I-I’m going to call Mapi. I’ll let her know we’re coming to Barcelona this weekend."

- "I think your mom was afraid I’d change my mind, which is why she bought the tickets," she laughs.

- "Probably. She really liked you."

- "Isn’t that a good thing?"

- "I don’t care what she thinks."

She sits down to take off her shoes. Meanwhile, I grab my phone from the nightstand drawer. Lucy tosses her shoes onto the floor, creating a loud noise, before lying back against her pillow with a satisfied sigh.

- "You know, Ona. You can lie to anyone you want, but definitely not to me," she smiles.

- "Alright... Maybe it matters a little."

She giggles and pats the spot next to her. I don’t like that she can read me so well. It feels like I can’t hide anything from her.

- "I expected your mom to be more difficult," she confesses. "She really cares about you, you know."

- "I know," I sighed.

I sit on the edge of the bed to take off my shoes, which quickly join Lucy’s on the floor. As soon as they’re off, I gasp in surprise when she pulls me back.

- "Gently," I grumbled. "I’m still recovering!"

- "Oh, sorry hermosa," she says, freezing me in her arms.

This new nickname from her feels almost strange. She presses herself against my back, burying her head in my hair.

- "Are you okay?" she whispers.

- "Yeah," I sighed.

I turn over, groaning as I move. The painkiller is starting to wear off. But I smile when she kisses my forehead.

- "Are you still in a lot of pain?"

- "It’s manageable," I say, running a hand through my hair.

She looks at me in a way that makes me finally see what she’s feeling. I wonder how she used to hide her emotions so well.

"I’m going to put more cream on you, and you’ll take another painkiller with dinner. That should keep you comfortable through the night. »

- "It's not necessary."

- "Don't argue," she says as she gets up. "You've been complaining about the pain all day, so you're going to let me take care of you."

- "Fine," I relented.

It's hard to argue when she's already in the bathroom getting the cream. I take advantage of her absence to lie down in the middle of the bed and lift my shirt up to just below my chest.

- "I'll take this opportunity to call Mapi, if you don't mind. She's going to give me an earful for not being in touch," I added.

- "Go ahead," she says, straddling me. "I told her I'd allow you to call in the next few days. Maybe you'll be spared since she thinks I was the one keeping you from it."

- "I doubt she believed that," I giggled.

I can't help but look at Lucy with soft, tender eyes. She seems so different from usual. She's much more... open. Maybe I wasn't the most closed-off one between us after all. I must be looking at her strangely, given the way she starts to smile.

- "What? Is something bothering you?"

- "No," I said, blushing. "It's just that you're acting differently."

- "In a good way, I hope?"

- "Oh yes, yes," I stammered.

- "Well... You'd better get used to it... At least in private, of course."

My eyes linger on her hands, now covered in cream.

- "Make your call. She's just waiting for you to do it."

I nod as I dial her number, feeling a slight knot in my stomach. I'm dreading her reaction after my long week of silence. She has every right to be upset with me. The call connects just as Lucy's hands rest on my sides.

- "Wow! A call from my Onita? I thought I was hallucinating. Is it really you?"

- "Hello to you too, Mapi... Yes, it's me," I rolled my eyes.

- "Oh, well it's a good thing it's you. Just so you know, I'm hurt by your radio silence, Ona."

- "It wasn't my fault."

- "Of course. What did you always tell me...? Oh yes, I remember. 'When there's a will, there's a way.' Isn't that right?"

What was I thinking? It was obvious she'd be upset. I close my eyes as a shiver runs through me, thanks to Lucy's gentle touches. It's such a contrast to the harsh, resentful words my best friend just said.

- "If you keep pouting, I'll hang up without sharing the good news."

- "Good news?" she scoffs. "Who am I talking to? Whoever you are, give me back my best friend. She hasn't had good news to share in weeks."

- "Okay, fine, you win. I'm hanging up."

- "Oh, there it is! I think I recognize my Onita now!"

I roll my eyes in amusement as I hear her laugh. There's some commotion in the background, and I frown, realizing she's not alone. It's rare for her to be with anyone since her breakup; she had isolated herself.

- "Who are you with?"

- "Miller and Bryan. They're helping me with a project for class. They send their regards."

- "Oh, that's unexpected. You're not in for an easy time with them. Say hi to them for me too."

- "I have to spend time with people since you're not here. And you'd be surprised. They're actually decent help, against all odds."

There it is, the remark I was expecting. Mapi can be very bitter when she wants to be.

- "I'm sorry, Maps," I say, focusing on my stomach where Lucy's fingers are still working. I'm trying to make it up to her, but she won't let me get a word in edgewise.

I didn't know Lucy was so skilled at massages. It's making it hard to concentrate. My stomach is still covered in bruises, but she's being very careful not to hurt me.

- "Hey, Batlle!"

- "Hmm?" I responded absentmindedly.

- "You sound... quite occupied," she teases. "Maybe I should hang up instead of waiting for your apologies."

- "Sorry," I groaned. "I was just focused on something else."

Lucy chuckles at my response, finally looking up at me. I blush at the thought of what she might be thinking.

- "Oh, and what's so distracting that you're ignoring me, again?"

- "I'm not ignoring you," I rolled my eyes.

- "Hmm... Sure, whatever you say," she mutters. "Anyway, what's this good news? Since you couldn't manage to write to me for a whole week, you better tell me you talked with Lucy."

- "That's actually the good news, sort of," I replied, locking eyes with Lucy.

I bite my lip as I feel Lucy's hands move up my sides, a very sensitive spot for me since I'm extremely ticklish. I wonder if she can hear what Mapi's saying.

- "Explain. You owe me that much, I think."

- "Everything's sorted out. The good news is that I'm coming home to Barcelona this weekend, and she's coming with me."

- "Oh really, yo-... Wait. What!?" she exclaimed.

I smiled, imagining the expression she must have. I'd pay a lot to see it. I can hear the guys teasing her in the background.

- "She just figured it out?" Lucy asks me.

- "I think so."

- "Put her on speaker."

I comply, pressing the button before placing the phone beside us.

- "I assume you're with her? How could you hide this from me? Since when!? It's a disgrace! I’ve been supporting your relationship from the beginning and putting up with your broken hearts! I should have been informed the next hour!"

- "Calm down. It's very recent," Lucy replies.

- "Lucy!" she exclaims in surprise. "No, but seriously! I'm both mad at you and happy for you at the same time. You'd better take care of my best friend, and as for you, Ona, you'd better tell me everything! I want all the details!"

- "There she goes, we've lost her," Lucy jokes. "I don't need your threats to do that, you know," she retorts. "You've already done enough, and I've already had to face Ona's mom's threats."

- "It's thanks to my threats that you're together, in a way. Hey, wait. What did you say? Abby? What's this all about?"

- "It's a very long story," I say just as Lucy applies cream to my bruised eye.

- "You two are so mean to me," Mapi responds. "How dare you hide everything from me, of all people?"

- "We're not hiding anything from you. We'll explain everything this weekend, I promise."

- "Pff, yeah, whatever. It doesn't change the fact that you'd better take care of Ona, or you'll be hearing from me!"

- "Don't worry about that."

I chuckle as Lucy rolls her eyes. She smiles at me before leaning down to kiss me. We must not be very discreet because it triggers a disgusted noise on the other end of the phone.

- "Please, don't do that while I'm still on the line."

- "What's wrong, Mapi?" Lucy teases. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

- "Oh yes, but I'd rather not hear your kisses and cuddles. It's depressing for a single person."

- "As far as I know, you won't be single much longer."

- "What do you mean?" I asked. "Since when does Lucy know more than I do?"

- "Since you've been missing in action, duh."

- "Very petty revenge, Mapi. Once again, it's Lucy who didn't want me to text you at night."

- "No, it's not that I didn't want you to. It's just that you needed to sleep earlier, and she preferred being in Alexia's room before."

- "Yeah, whatever. Doesn't matter. Now that I'm here, is what she just said true?"

- "Of course," Lucy answers. "Mapi is just scared to take the plunge with Ingrid."

- "Lucy!" my best friend exclaims. "I thought that was supposed to stay between us!"

- "Oops?"

I giggle as Mapi sighs in frustration. So, she's scared to date my instructor. That's new and very unexpected.

- "You'd better stop stalling, Mapi. Ingrid won't chase after you forever," Lucy tells her.

- "I know," she sighs. "But it's complicated with the distance and all. I'd prefer to talk to her face to face."

- "It's your lucky day because she's coming with us this weekend."

- "What!?"

- "You heard right. I know you told her you'd give her a chance when you saw each other again, so if you want my advice, start coming up with convincing arguments. Ingrid can be a very difficult woman when she wants to be."

- "Wha-"

- "Don't say we never did you a favor. Now, I'd like to spend the rest of this afternoon with my girlfriend, if you don't mind."

- "No, no, wait, please! Don't hang u-"

- "Goodnight, Mapi."

I look at Lucy curiously as she hangs up on Mapi. She's not going to appreciate that. What bothers me more, though, is that Lucy knows more than I do.

- "What did I miss?"

- "Mapi is scared and keeps pushing things back. A bit like me. The situation is starting to frustrate Ingrid, and I just gave her some golden information. She'd better use it because Ingrid can be very unforgiving."

- "Oh... I guess she's afraid to open her heart again."

- "I don't know Mapi well enough to understand her reasons," she shrugs. "She just confided in me because I know Ingrid, and you weren't around."

- "Hmm... I hope things work out for them."

- "I'm sure they will. I said Ingrid was unforgiving, not heartless," she smiles. "She might just make Mapi sweat a little, if you know what I mean."

- "I know exactly what you mean."

I laugh against Lucy's lips as she comes in for another kiss. She doesn't stay long, though, as she gets up to return to the bathroom to put away the cream and wash her hands. Meanwhile, I don't dare move since I'm covered in cream everywhere, and I don't want to risk getting it all over. She comes back shortly after to put away my phone and then lies down next to me again. I smile as she wraps her arms around me. I hope Mapi finds the same happiness I've found. It's the best I can wish for her. One thing is certain, though: this weekend is going to be very interesting.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

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juyeonszn · 10 months

Text

JE NE SAIS QUOI

PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 7.33k

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒itty bitty angst

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, strangers to ?? to lovers, volleyball team captain!jacob (ohhhh ive been waiting for this one..), lots of 97 liner cameos, jacob is an honorary tbz frat member but isn’t actually a member lol, reader is down bad for him, mentions of alcohol, volleyball terms that i learned from haikyuu 😭, an annoying ex girlfriend, AURKAY here we go: bathroom sex, wall sex, bathroom sink counter sex, and mirror sex all in one, doggy style and also missionary? i guess?, NO FOREPLAY BUT FUCK IT WE FALL LIKE SOLDIERS FOR REAL, marking-ish, unprotected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, and everyone’s favorite! creampie!, a cutesy ending

SUMMARY jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. so stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. however, after meeting you at one of the tbz parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

MORE HELLAURRRR ok i know this is 45 mins overdue but i barely finished this last night and i worked at 5 am this morning so 😭 ANYWAYYY this fic is actually my favorite so far… idk i just have this natural writing affinity when it comes to jacob which u can tell by the length…. if u enjoyed pls reblog! and don’t forget to check out the other fics in the series!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr

TAGLIST @millksea

SERIES MASTERLIST

“And there’s another point for the IST U Bears. Wow these boys are on fire tonight.”

The announcer’s voice booms throughout the gymnasium, intertwining with the cheers of the crowd. They all sound like the buzzing of a bee in Jacob’s ears, but that’s a good thing. It pricks at his skin, lighting it on fire and getting his morale going.

The team just needed one more point and they would win this set, sending them on their way to the championship game. This would be the first time in IST history that their boys’ volleyball team would make it this far, and that was all thanks to Jacob becoming captain for his senior year.

Their coach calls for a quick time out, giving Jacob a moment of reprieve before his final serve of the game. He wipes away the sweat on his forehead, shaking the front of his jersey to air it out and cool him down a little. The team’s manager passes him a water bottle. He loves the adrenaline rush that courses through his veins when he’s on the court. It’s unlike any other feeling he’s ever felt in his life.

“Alright, Bae. You’ve got this, right?” Jacob’s coach gives him a pointed look.

“Of course, Coach. There’s no way in hell that we’re losing this game tonight.” He gives him a firm nod, lips curled into a confident smile. There wasn’t a chance that Jacob Bae would go down without a fight. He was securing that championship seat whether anyone liked it or not.

The team heads back out and a referee hands Jacob the volleyball. He blows a raspberry, twirling the ball on his fingertips while waiting for the whistle. As soon as he hears it, he takes a couple steps back. A breeze cuts through his hair when he runs, executing his infamous jump serve with practiced ease. The ball flies past the players of the other team, hitting the court just in front of the line.

His teammates are yelling and throttling his body around before he even realizes that they’ve won. Some of them are riling up the crowd, others are on their knees crying tears of joy. He was anticipating this outcome, but for some reason he’s still shell shocked. Everything around him is static and white noise.

“Holy shit, Jacob. I can’t believe you did that,” Kim Mingyu, the team’s star middle blocker, slaps him on the back. He’s also drenched in sweat, patting his face with a towel.

“You and me both, to be completely honest.” Jacob laughs a bit, collecting his things so he can head to the locker room.

He’s slightly grateful that tonight’s game ended a little early, giving him enough time to get ready before the Tau Beta Zeta party. He wasn’t even that big of a party person. He only went to provide moral support for his friends who happened to all be in the fraternity. Most people would even go as far as assuming he was also in it considering how often he was spotted at that house, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He actually thought fraternities were dumb. In his eyes, they held no purpose.

A bunch of guys living together under the guise of brotherhood when in reality they spent most of their time partying was just stupid. You could do that without the fancy titles or the expected respect from fellow students. He loved his friends, truly, but he didn’t understand the hype.

Jacob showers quickly and changes into a hoodie and some baggy jeans. He ruffles his hair in front of a mirror, grabbing his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder. As he’s preparing to leave, someone calls out to him.

“Yo, Cobie! Are you going to the TBZ party?”

He spins around to find the source, learning it belongs to Jeong Jaehyun. The setter nods, pulling his hood over his head. “Like I always do. Why?”

“I heard through the grapevine that Haeun was going with some friends. I just thought I’d warn you,” he squeezes the shoulder that isn’t hoisting his backpack. “I figured you’d want to take things chill this next week with the championship game on Friday.”

Jacob hums in response and Jaehyun takes that as his cue to be on his way. Of course this would be his luck. Just as he thinks life is getting easier for him, something has to come and throw a curveball at him. This something happened to be his ex-girlfriend, who’d done nothing but terrorize Jacob while they were together. Imagine the most toxic, vile person in the world, then dress her in Jimmy Choo sandals and a designer handbag. That was Haeun.

The only logical reason for her to attend the TBZ party was because his friends were still trying to rack up their numbers. He wouldn’t put it past them if that meant acquiring any and every student on campus. After tonight they would find out who won the stupid competition between them and the KAT sorority, hopefully putting a pin in their godforsaken rivalry once and for all. The winner determined if he was even going to the big end of semester party or not.

Jacob sighs, heading out so he can help out his friends in any way he can. Now that he’s been cursed with the knowledge that he might run into his ex, he’s half tempted to just ditch the whole thing. (He won’t, but the idea is flirting with him.) They’ve been broken up for well over a year now, but somehow she always manages to worm her way back and make him miserable. Quite frankly, he’s tired of it.

When Jacob arrives at the Tau Beta Zeta house, his friends are all over the place. Sangyeon is typing away on his phone, pacing back and forth in the living room. The action from the calm and collected fraternity president makes him kind of nervous. He escapes into the kitchen where Sunwoo and Eric are putting away all of the alcohol. Kevin and Chanhee are complaining about God knows what to each other, and he can faintly hear Hyunjae and Haknyeon upstairs. His juniors start clapping and hollering as soon as they see him enter.

“Woah woah woah, we’ve got a celebrity on our hands guys.” Eric jokes, dapping up the older male.

“Congrats, Cobie,” Sunwoo joins in, fist bumping his senior and handing him a beer bottle. “Do you think you’re gonna win next week?”

“I sure hope so,” Jacob snorts, uncapping the bottle with the opener on the fridge. “I didn’t bring us all this way for nothing.”

Nothing super eventful happens after that, just the guys setting up for the party. They’re projecting that this is the one that secures their victory for the competition. Jacob really couldn’t care less, sitting himself on the couch and scrolling through his phone as he nurses his beer. They all maneuver around him, setting up speakers here, lights there. It’s all pointless in his eyes.

When the party has finally started and the house is packed with partygoers, Jacob hasn’t budged from his spot. The only reason he has a fresh beer is because Eric grabbed one for him in passing. This was what he subjected himself to for hours on end every Friday night. His ass cemented to one of the sofas in the living room and his phone being his main source of entertainment.

It’s as you’re exiting the kitchen with your friends that you notice him. You laugh into your drink at the boredom written all over his face. His extremely handsome face. His hair falls into his eyes and slightly obstructs his vision, but that just accelerates the beating of your heart. You don’t know what it is, but there’s something about him that makes you want to learn his name and everything there is about him.

“Y/N, have you found a nice boy to give you a fun time before hell week?” Haeun asks you, running perfectly manicured fingernails through her hair. “That’s the whole point of being here, isn’t it?”

You didn’t want to tag along, honestly. You were content with staying in tonight and studying for your A&PII exam. You only agreed to get Haeun off your back, because you were well aware of how annoying she could get when she didn’t get what she wanted. She gave the KAT sorority president a run for her money sometimes.

“Uh, no. I’ll just see where the night takes me,” you shrug, keeping a poker face so she doesn’t see who you’re already ogling.

Knowing her, she would make it difficult for you. She would torture you and tease you relentlessly because that was just who she was. Haeun wasn’t satisfied unless she felt good about herself. You didn’t know why you were still friends with her. Maybe it was because she was one of the first people who sought you out after your transfer to IST. Maybe it was because you were afraid of being blacklisted by practically every other student if you dropped her. Her power was insane.

“Boring,” she drags out the vowels, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna see if Cha Eunwoo is here yet.”

You watch as she disappears into the sardine-packed house, looking for the senior. Your other friend, Minjee, just sighs once the dictator is out of earshot— which isn’t even that far considering how loud the music is. She turns to you with a weak smile.

“Don’t let her ruin anything for you. Just go enjoy yourself before she does.”

You don’t need to be told a second time, chugging the contents of your red solo cup for some liquid courage. Your mission was simple; be ten times more fun than the party itself. That would surely catch Couch Boy’s attention. It wasn’t like the Tau Beta Zeta guys didn’t put all their effort into throwing the craziest parties at the school, but clearly this dude wasn’t for it.

Your feet carry you over to the living room, your teeth chewing on your lip nervously. You’d never hit on someone before, let alone at a party. The scariest part was the potential rejection in front of hundreds of your peers. But it was okay! You could do this. You think.

“Hi.”

The word leaves your mouth without your brain even registering it, eyes wide like you’d just done something wrong. He looks up from his phone, mirroring your expression. His tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip and then he’s scooting over to make room for you.

“Hi,” he says after a few seconds.

“I’m Y/n,” you extend your hand awkwardly, but he takes it, shaking it with a firm grip that has you crossing your legs. “I— uh— this is kinda weird, but um— I saw you from over there and thought you were cute.”

You swallow thickly, tucking some hair behind your ear. How did Haeun do this on the regular? He smiles at your fumbling and oh God, you think you might pass out from how attractive he is. You don’t have much alcohol in your system and you’re starting to regret how sober you are.

“I’m Jacob,” he rests an arm on the back of the couch. “Thanks for coming up to me. I would’ve missed your pretty face otherwise.”

Is he flirting with you? Holy shit, he’s flirting with you.

“Do you come to Tau Beta Zeta parties often?” You ask to continue the conversation. He nods.

“I practically live here,” Jacob laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “How about you, Y/N? What are you studying?”

Oh, so he was one of the members. You wouldn’t have guessed with how disinterested he seemed at his own party. It takes you a moment to realize he’s shifted the focus onto you, scanning your features for a response. You purse your lips.

“Not really. I’m more of a homebody. I’m only here to let loose before finals. I actually just transferred to IST U this semester for the exceptional Pre-Med department. I’m still sorta navigating my way around and meeting people.”

So that’s why he’s never seen you on campus. You’re completely new to the school and you’re in a completely different department than he is. Nonetheless, you’re really cute and Jacob hasn’t put himself out there since breaking up with Haeun. He’s been so concentrated on maintaining his grades and putting in the work for volleyball, he hasn’t even had the time to. But now that finals and the championship game are all next week, he supposes he can allot some just this once…

“How are you liking it here so far?” He asks you genuinely. It winds you a little. You’ve never had someone actually care about what you had to say or show interest in you. Even at your old school, no one batted an eye at you. You doubt anyone knew you transferred.

“The campus itself is beautiful. It’s a lot bigger than my previous one. And so far, everyone’s been nothing but kind to me. I wish I would’ve gone with my gut and came here straight out of high school.” You pick at a thread on your skirt.

“We all live and we all learn, that’s a part of life,” Jacob shrugs, nudging your leg with his foot. “Would you like to grab another drink with me?”

“Yeah, that would be great, actually.” You both stand from the couch.

Since sitting with him, the party has grown in size. Fellow students filled every available corner of the house, nearly standing body to body in order to fit everyone in the building. The amount of attendees should be a fire hazard, honestly. Jacob laces your fingers together so he doesn’t lose you in the mass of people blocking the path to the kitchen. There’s a game of Rage Cage going on where there’s usually a round of beer pong and it looks like this one guy is about to die with how many empty cups are in front of him.

“What are you drinking?” Jacob turns to you once you’ve reached the alcohol table. You shake your head.

“Surprise me.”

“You’re playing Russian Roulette here, Y/N,” his lips curl up into a devious smile that most people would run away from, especially when it’s on the face of a stranger. “You’re really trusting me with your life right now.”

Luckily, you’ve always been into that type of thing. Nice guys who looked like they could give you an unforgettable night. And in the short period you’ve known Jacob, he appeared to be just that. All you can do is nip at your lower lip, the fleet of a smile gracing his sight.

He passes you a cup and gestures for you to taste his concoction. It burns the course of your throat, but doesn’t remind you of straight battery acid. You give him a thumbs up of approval and he cheers, fist bumping the air. You giggle at his reaction. Perhaps stepping out of your comfort zone was the best decision you’ve made all night. He knocks his own cup against yours and takes a swig, wincing.

“I might’ve made mine just a bit stronger than usual,” his voice is hoarse and you can’t help but laugh a little harder. “I put all of my expertise into yours.”

“It’s good to know you’re a gentleman and you’re not trying to get me drunk on purpose,” you tease, sipping at the beverage gingerly. “However, that does mean you’ll need to be flashier in your attempts to woo me. I have very high standards.”

Jacob’s smile widens, his teeth peeking from behind his lips. The expression makes you lightheaded. It should be a crime to look as good as he does, without even trying either. “I don’t know… All I’m hearing is that you want me to woo you…”

He’s caught you red-handed, but it isn’t like you were doing much to conceal that fact. You’d like to think you were being very obvious with your intentions on purpose. You glance up at him from the rim of your cup, your lower back leaning on the counter. “Maybe I do… Are you opposed to that, Jacob?”

He takes a step closer to you, and then another until he has you caged between him and the kitchen counter. Really, he couldn’t give any less of a fuck about the clusters of people nearby. When Jacob Bae had a goal in mind, he made damn sure to work for it. His volleyball career could attest to that. His drink slides across the surface, spilling a little on the back of his hand. He leans down to your ear. “Not at all. But I don’t think you’ll be able to handle what happens when I succeed.”

You feel your cheeks warm, your throat drying, and it’s not because of the effects from the alcohol you’ve just consumed. You’ve known this guy, what, thirty minutes max? And he was already figuring out exactly what it took to get your gears grinding? What a quick fucking leaner. He knows he’s won, too, if the way you’ve gone cotton-mouthed is anything to go by. The ghost of a grin brushes the shell of your ear and it requires the entirety of your strength not to pounce on this stranger in the middle of this goddamn party.

“Everybody who isn’t Tau Beta Zeta, get the fuck out! Someone called the cops!”

A record scratch-like halt puts a pin in the moment, forcing Jacob to step away from you with a groan. This would be just your luck, wouldn’t it? You found a ‘nice boy to give you a fun time before hell week’ and then this stupid party gets raided. It’s annoying, actually. Aggravating, even. Your lips unconsciously form pout out of disappointment and Jacob feels a piece of himself die along with it.

“Shit, you gotta get out of here before they show up and start dragging people out,” he runs a hand through his hair with a hiss.

If it had been a minute earlier, you would’ve fallen to your knees by now. Unfortunately, that was not the case. You needed to find Haeun and Minjee. You do a quick 180° in hopes of spotting either of them.

“Yeah, I need to find my—” You interrupt yourself when you see the former of the two stomping towards you with an indistinguishable look in her eye. “—Friends…”

“Let’s go, Y/N,” her tone is snappy and she glances over at Jacob for a brief moment. You don’t have time to realize what’s happening until her petite fingers are wrapping around your wrist, hauling you out of the kitchen. A yelp escapes your lips as you turn to wave to your… whatever he is to you now.

Initially, you assumed she was just ticked off by the whole cop call thing. At least, that made sense if she’d gotten anywhere with that Cha Eunwoo guy she had been talking about all day leading up to the party. But then Minjee’s driving you back your apartment and she’s whipping around in the passenger seat to give you the nastiest glare you’ve ever been on the receiving end of.

“What the hell is your problem?” She looks two seconds away from bursting a vein in her forehead.

“Wh— huh?” You’re thoroughly confused. What the fuck did you do to her?

“Why were you talking to Jacob Bae? You do know that’s my ex, right?” Her gaze has softened, but could still very much kill you if she wanted to. The wrath of Lee Haeun was more terrifying than that of any horror movie villain to ever exist.

No.

No no no no. The world stops on its axis and it’s like you’ve been told your favorite song was written about a used tissue. You don’t hear anything else she says, feeling like you just had ear muffs placed over your head. This isn’t fair. The universe officially hated you. You were number one on the list of people who deserved the worst possible fate, your name underlined twice with red ink and a star beside it.

You really didn’t have it in you to care about what Haeun thought. If this was the reason you were finally given to stop talking to her, then so be it. What you were worried about was Jacob hating you. He clearly saw that you were friends. Why would he want to pursue anything with one of his ex’s friends? Any sane person would avoid that situation if they could.

Despite not knowing that it was Jacob specifically, you knew the details of their breakup and why things ended so messily. It made sense that she was an authoritarian even in her relationships. That was just in her nature. If she didn’t control every aspect of her life, she would lose her mind. Normally you wouldn’t have batted an eye at that, not nearly enough energy in you to deal with that level of bossiness. But it was starting to bleed into your personal life. And that was a line you weren’t so willing to let her cross.

You could only pray that this was fixable.

Finals week passes by in a breeze, and before he knows it, Jacob is on the court for the championship game. There’s a different aura to him than there usually is when it comes to his volleyball games. He feels ten times more determined. (He would never admit to anyone that it’s because he’s hoping he’ll see you at the end of semester party tonight.)

He actually really enjoyed your presence and your personality. The rate at which his heart beat around you was something he hadn’t felt in a while and it was nice. He liked those little butterflies that came with the start of something new. He liked the jitters and the giggles and everything in between. It reminded him that there was still youth, there was still excitement in his life.

Sure, it was kind of weird that you were friends with his ex-girlfriend. The same ex-girlfriend that he couldn’t stand being in the same room as for more than five minutes at a time. But from your reaction to her dragging you away, Jacob thinks that you didn’t know about him and Haeun. If you did, you wouldn’t have gone up to him in the first place. Unless you knew and just didn’t care, then he didn’t care either. It’s not like he ever plans to allow Haeun to resurface and sink her nails back into him. That’s one mistake he’ll never make again.

Before he knows it, he’s swapping back into the game. He rolls his neck and pops his fingers, getting into position to receive this next serve. Even with this fire lit underneath him, both teams are neck and neck. With every point that IST scored, the opposing team would just catch back up without breaking a sweat. If Jacob wasn’t captain and wasn’t used to being so calm and collected during matches, he’d probably start getting as pissed as Kim Mingyu looks right now.

The referee blows his whistle and the ball is over the net. Jeon Jungkook, the team’s libero, dives for it, the volleyball bouncing off the back of his hand and back up into the air. It’s currently the fourth set and IST has two under their belt. They needed to win this one lest they wanted to go into the fifth. Everyone is on edge, but won’t stop at nothing that isn’t victory. Jacob shifts to set the ball to Jaehyun, who swings his arm back and spikes it to the other side of the court.

One of their players receives it with ease, and they’re back to square one. There’s that back and forth of both teams setting and spiking, only for the other to receive and send it back over. Jacob feels like this game is never gonna end, especially with how agile their libero is and how in tune he is with their setter. But then he makes eye contact with Lee Seokmin, an opposite hitter who’s proven time and time again that he’ll go wherever Jacob needs him to, do whatever Jacob wants him to. And that’s exactly what he does.

Mingyu bumps the ball towards the net and just when they think Jacob’s going to set it, he swaps places with Seokmin. The hitter gets beneath the volleyball and pushes it off the tip of his fingers, watching as Jacob perfectly times his jump to smack it with the palm of his hand. It’s something the two had only ever practiced a handful of times, but knew it would come in handy when everything was right. The entire interaction is flawless, and the captain’s spike lands, scoring that final point that IST needed to win the set and the game.

Just like the previous game, Jacob doesn’t even register the roaring cheers from everyone around him until they’re throwing him and Seokmin up like they themselves were volleyballs. The team is going insane, hyping up the crowd and running around the court like children. A sense of pride swells in Jacob’s chest, a crinkly-eyed smile nestling on his face like the fondness of a father.

They continue the joy-train all the way into the locker room. Jacob showers and throws on some gray cargo pants, pairing them with a black half-zip jacket. Most of the team was going to the end of semester party tonight, treating it as a post-celebratory reward for their big win. It was still so surreal for the captain. All of the pressure that had been riding on him the entire season, the strive for being someone bigger than himself. He’s grateful it paid off.

Meanwhile, you were damn near ripping your hair out, nerves eating away at the edges of your stomach like you were with the skin around your nails. After a taxing week of final exams and the anxiety of wanting to see Jacob Bae again to clear any bad air, you found yourself at the TBZ end of semester party along with Haeun and Minjee. You were thankful that your life was intact, Haeun’s irritation simmering into something a lot more bearable.

Though just a smidge pissed off that you didn’t do your research, she wasn’t as mad about the whole break of girl-code incident. She got off of your back a little too easily, though, so you were still waiting for another strike. You couldn’t help but feel as if she was planning another form of action.

You’d been at this party for at least an hour, and the attendance was double that of last week’s. They weren’t kidding when they said this was the party of all parties at IST University. You were starting to think that maybe Jacob really was going to avoid you like you were the Black Plague or equivalent. Why else would he not be at one of his own parties? Wasn’t it, like, a requirement for fraternity members to make an appearance at the things they hosted?

Being friends with Haeun really screwed everything up for you. Not only did you have to sleep with one eye open, but also keep your distance from just about every male on campus out of fear that she fucked with them, too. Why did it have to be Jacob Bae? Why couldn’t it have been someone more douchey, more up her alley? He was way too sweet, way too cute for someone of her kind. He deserved someone that could hand him the world. (Not that you were insinuating that it was you, but even you knew you were a better person than Lee Haeun.)

And as if a higher being truly existed, your prayers are answered in the form of Jacob Bae walking through the front door. A gaggle of partygoers surround him and the group of guys he’s with, including some of the fraternity brothers. You faintly hear whoops and hollers over the near deafening music, everyone patting them on their backs. Most of the attention is on Jacob and his gorgeous smile, though.

“IST U’s pride and joy! National volleyball champion, Jacob-fucking-Bae,” Lee Hyunjae wolf-whistles, shaking him around like he was maraca.

Jacob laughs, looking down at the floor to shy away from all of the eyes on him. He’s glad everybody is pleased with his accomplishment, but really all he wants to do is find you. He’s still not 100% sure you’re even here, but he has high hopes that maybe you were into him as much as he was with you. Now that he’s free of both volleyball and schoolwork for a while, he can take his time getting to know you better.

You psych yourself up to go over to him once his audience has parted and gone back to whatever it was they were doing prior to his arrival. A grimace consumes your features as you knock back the cup of jungle juice in your hand, blowing a raspberry. Minjee gives you a smile of encouragement, like she knows exactly what you’re about to do.

However, someone beats you to it. You watch with bated breath as Haeun flips her hair over her shoulder, her heels clicking on the wooden floor all the way up to Jacob. The sight of another girl talking to the guy you’re interested in has never made you as ill as it does right now, her glossy lips pouted and her hands clasped behind her back.

“Heard about the big win, Jakey,” she smiles almost evilly, calling him by a nickname that he hasn’t been called in months. “Wanna claim your prize?”

Jacob knows what she’s doing. It’s obvious. Haeun saw the two of you together last week and now she’s pretending that she gives a shit just so she can feel like she’s the one in control. He’s seen this scene too many times to fall for it. He pokes his cheek with his tongue, hands shoving into the front pocket of his jacket.

“Don’t you have someone else that you can bother, tonight? I’m spoken for.” He shrugs, stepping around her. Okay, so perhaps you’d only had one conversation together. That was enough for him. He doesn’t have to search far or wide for you, a grin replacing his deadpan once he sees your face. “Hi.”

“H-Hi,” your voice comes out unsteady. “I— uh— wh— well, I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

His eyebrows quirks up. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m friends with your tyrant of an ex-girlfriend and I’m a horrible person for still wanting you,” you begin to ramble, playing with a strand of your hair. “And then you weren’t here.”

Jacob laughs, pushing your hand down and tucking the same piece behind your ear. “I don’t really care that you’re friends with Haeun. Honestly, no one’s ever *really friends with her. It’s hard to stand a person who’s that insufferable. And I’m on the volleyball team. Tonight was the championship game, which is why I was late.”

“So you don’t hate me and want me to die?”

“I could never.” He shakes his head, taking one of your hands into his.

“If that’s the case, then can you show me how to properly enjoy a frat party?” You trace patterns on his palm.

“I’ll be so real with you, Y/N, even *I don’t know how to do that,” he snorts. “I’m not a Tau Beta Zeta member, so I guess that explains it.”

“Woah what?” You gape at him. “This entire time I thought you were…”

“Nah, I’m just friends with all of the guys here. I might as well be, but I’m not. Frats are stupid to me,” Jacob leads you out of the living room and into the kitchen to get himself a drink. “Though, I don’t think they’re that bad anymore.”

As he’s reaching for an empty cup, a thought crosses your mind. It’s bold, but you don’t have the willpower to force it away. “You know, you didn’t get to show me what would happen if you succeeded in sweeping me off of my feet.”

He pauses what he’s doing, turning to glance at you over his shoulder with dark eyes. Are you saying what he thinks you’re saying?

“And something’s telling me you were extremely successful.”

*Fuck the drink, Jacob thinks to himself, dropping the cup in favor of whisking you away. He pulls you into the nearest empty room, which happens to be the downstairs bathroom. From one second to the next, you’re pinned to the door, both of your wrists firm in his grip. He’s so close that his nose nudges yours, lips only a hair’s breadth from your own.

“Should’ve known you were dangerous from the get go,” he breathes, the distance between you driving you crazy. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

A gasp escapes you, your eyelids fluttering shut. This was pure insanity. Before you can complain about the lack of contact, Jacob’s mouth is on yours, lips moving against yours so skillfully and so roughly. He takes your wrists into one hand, holding them above your head while the other slips beneath your top. His fingertips burn into your skin and you don’t hold back the whine that sneaks out from your chest.

You pull back for air, sighing when his kiss travels down your neck and focuses on your collarbone. It’s not enough, you need to feel him everywhere. Your pulse is racing and you’re sure he can feel it when he leaves a trail of nibbles and kisses along your jawline. They travel south, paving their path on what’s visible of your jugular and sternum.

There’s a haste of fingers roaming and lips exploring. This was uncharted territory for, seeing as you hadn’t been in a situation like this since moving schools. If there was anyone you wanted to get down and dirty with in the bathroom of a frat party, it was Jacob Bae. His free hand wanders under your skirt, a knuckle running along your clothed, but damp, slit. You both hiss.

“Already so wet for me?” He asks you smugly, the curve of his smile carved into the space where your ear meets your neck. You don’t have the patience to power through any teasing.

“Need you so bad, Jacob,” you don’t like the pitchiness of your voice, or how you’re pretty much begging right now. “Wanna skip the foreplay.”

Jacob grins almost wickedly, kissing the tip of your nose. “So ready and so eager for me. Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t waste any time getting you out of your clothes, starting with your top and then shoving your skirt past your thighs. You kick it off and move to help him. His jacket comes off in one fluid motion, giving you the perfect display of his muscular back and toned abdomen. All of years of volleyball came to fruition in the form of his godlike sculpted body.

You drag a nail through the valley of his abs, unbuttoning his cargoes and palming him through his underwear. He curses under his breath, forehead falling to your shoulder. You may very well be the death of him, he decides. When he’s finally had enough, he swats your hand away, removing the briefs so he can give you what you so graciously asked for. He pumps his length a couple times before guiding the tip to your entrance.

Jacob hooks one of your legs around his waist, pushing your panties to the side so he can slip into you carefully. You don’t even stop the moan that breaches your vocal cords, back arching off of the door and your chest pushing into his. The stretch burns slightly, but not nearly enough to interrupt the pleasure coursing throughout your body. There’s a fire in the pit of your stomach that he fans the flames of the deeper he sinks into you, lips imprinted into the skin of your neck.

His fingers burn the skin of your thigh where he holds it up, slowly pressing his cock into cunt and sliding out as soon as he bottoms out. You’re dizzy, so dizzy that stars have begun to form behind your eyelids and he’s only just started. He rocks into you at a meticulous pace, the blunt nails of his other hand digging into your hip to keep himself composed.

He wants to take his time with you first. He wants you to feel every ridge and vein of his cock as your walls squeeze him in. He wants the feeling of the two of you connected to be engraved into your brain, a memory that nothing could erase even if it tried. Your head knocks against the door when you crane it to give him more access to the column of your throat, whining when he sucks marks into the surface.

“F-Fuck, Jacob,” you whimper. “Feel— god— feel so, so stuffed.”

You practically hiccup your words, overstimulated with everything that’s going on at once. It’s too much. The way he nips at your skin. The way he groans every time you clench around him. The way he’s *buried into you like you were the only source of warmth he’ll ever get. It’s too much, but it feels fucking fantastic.

“Yeah, baby? Am I fucking you good? Giving it to you like no one else can?” He exerts himself, his lips slipping on the thin sheen of sweat coating your bodies. All you can do is moan again, bucking your hips into his to minimize the gap between you as much as physically possible.

His cock is just the right balance of girth and length, filling you up and hitting the spots you need him to. Your sanity falls through the cracks with every click of his hips into yours. He *is fucking you good. He *is giving it to you like no one else can. It didn’t even take him long to figure out what you liked, using that knowledge to his advantage so he could ravage you.

You’re too lost in the pleasure to notice the coil in your stomach curling to the point of snapping. With each ram of his dick in your pussy, he winds you up more and more until it breaks in half. You see nothing but white for a few seconds, spots of various colors bleeding into it. A sound so far away from you bursts out from its home in the back of your throat. Your orgasm coaxes out his, painting your walls with milky ropes and a moan of his own.

The two of you pant breathlessly, lips brushing as you attempt to calm down. Jacob pinches your side, kissing you once before pulling out and letting go of your hip. “Do you have the energy to give me one more? I don’t think I’m finished with you just yet.”

You let out a guttural groan, nodding and colliding your mouths in another desperate kiss. Your fingers run through the strands of his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck as he transfers you to sink. He spins you around, bending you over the counter and pecking your shoulder as he eases his cock back into the velvet of your pussy.

You’re both still sensitive, sighing at the feeling of a second intrusion. He grips your hip and presses down on your lower back just as he speeds up the pacing of his thrusts. Instinctively, you hike up a knee onto the counter, wanting him even deeper and even harder than previously. Heat pools in that same spot at the base of your abdomen, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Look in the mirror, sweetheart,” he grunts, throwing his head back and tightening his grasp on your waist. “Want you to watch me fuck you stupid.”

You wail, eyes heavy lidded as you witness Jacob plowing into you from behind. It hurts, the fact that you can’t even convey into sounds how amazing it feels. They’re all trapped in your chest and throat, begging to be set free. You wish they could bounce off of the walls, reverberating in your ears. Your cheeks are wet from the tears that have spilled over. You look like a mess with your makeup smeared and your face puffy. Anyone who saw you after this would know exactly what went down in this bathroom.

Jacob doesn’t slow his assault, instead hovering over and trapping you beneath his broad frame. He drills into you deeper, harder, faster— and oh god you don’t want him to stop. You think he’s making good on his word, fucking you so insanely stupid that not a single thought occupies your mind. All there is, is Jacob Bae and the deliciousness of his cock wedging itself further into your cunt like he wants to live there.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. So so well,” he coos, your back curving into his chest.

Your elbows might give out from supporting your weight and now Jacob’s too, especially with how empty your head is. You don’t really have the consciousness to keep yourself up. It’s at the point where the mirror has started to fog, a blurry image of him abusing your pussy in your line of sight.

He knows you’re on the brink of an orgasm, your walls spasming slightly in warning. He pulls out enough to flip you onto your back, pushing in and resuming where he left off. His thumb sneaks down to your clit, rubbing in precise circles with precise pressure. Despite there being no mirror covered in steam in the shape of your bodies in front of you, your vision is still hazy. You can barely see the expressions Jacob makes, his brows knitting together and lower lip between his teeth.

You pull him down to connect your mouths, whining into him as he continues to fuck into you like there wasn’t a whole party still going on on the side of the door. Your knees are folded to your chest, allowing his cock to kiss all the way inside of you. “I’m— fuck— so close, Cobie.”

“C’mon, baby, you can cum for me,” he goads, applying more pressure to the shape he’s drawing on your clit.

One particularly timed thrust and the bumping of his pelvic bone on the sensitive bundle of nerves tips you off of your peak. Your climax washes over you, tidal waves of pleasure cresting at full force. You moan loudly, the rippling of your walls triggering Jacob’s own release.

He pulls out gently, for the final time. His chest rises and falls rapidly, in sync with yours. You’re both exhausted, spent from going at it like jackrabbits— as if you’d never get the chance to do it again. You meet eyes and then burst into laughter, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks.

“That was… Wow…” You breathe, moving some of his hair from obstructing his eyesight.

“I always follow through with my promises, you know,” he wraps his arms around your waist. “So, what do I get now that I’ve wooed you?”

You press the hints of a kiss to his lips. “An exclusive all-access pass to me, my phone number, and the rights to ask me out on a date whenever you please.”

Jacob smiles that crinkle eye smile of his, knowing full well that he plans on cashing all three of those right now. He may have not been the biggest fan of fraternities or their parties, but he sure as hell loved them at this moment in time.

He thinks he was a winner in more ways than one that night.

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz jacob #tbz jacob #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae smut #jacob x reader #jacob smut #juyeonszn #blackoutorbackout🍻

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akookminsupporter · 2 years

Text

Namjoon gave a good interview to Vogue Spain and in it he said a few things that I thought I'd share with those of you who may not understand Spanish.

This was at the end of the article but I want to write it first:

One thing that needs to be made clear about this album is that, no matter how much the rumour mill is trying to spin it, it is by no means the end of the successful band. "Oh, I'm not leaving BTS. Absolutely not. This is the first time I'm launching a solo project like this, so I'm trying to stand up and take my first steps. But I'm ambitious and I have willpower. So I don't want to miss the opportunity to do both. So I will try my best not to lose control and steer these two ships at the same time. A lot of bands split up and fall apart, but I hope that doesn't happen to BTS. I just love the music, I love my job, I love the band members and I love myself. If I can keep both projects going, I think it can be something legendary in the long run".

Other important parts of the article:

"The k-pop industry hasn't stopped growing since we debuted with BTS [in 2013]. It's become a lot more complex and has brought a lot more people into its structures. I think there are a lot of lights, but also some slippery shadows. Many of us started our careers very early as a group: we slept and lived together as teenagers. We became a real family, which is great, but this culture has also affected me a lot, because sometimes I find it difficult to be treated as an adult who has autonomy in his decisions. I'm perceived as just another cog in the crew, in the context of a mass phenomenon",

Did you ever feel like you were getting completely lost in this delirium of success? "I used to think so, but the funny thing is that I am fully aware that it was my own choice to devote myself to the k-pop industry. Nobody pushed me into it. But yes, I have lost myself at times. Although perhaps saying this is an excess of 'self-empathy'. There is no answer. Except that, if k-pop is about recharging the batteries of a mass audience and I'm responsible for doing that recharging, then I have to keep my feet firmly on the ground. As an adult, as a musician and as a human being. And these ten years of my career have helped me define who I am and learn to love myself. But I'm still in that process, you know? All these internal struggles will be recorded on records and videos," he explains.

"Music is really necessary for the world, but, when it comes to my music, sometimes I feel like I'm producing something unnecessary. If I were to die tonight, I don't think anything would change. It might matter to some people for a while, but a farmer or a street sweeper is more relevant to the functioning of society. When I ask myself about the role of our generation in historical terms, when I look at all the digital platforms and communities out there, I am overcome with confusion. There are a lot of people who don't want to think. They have frenetic lives and turn to music or television to escape, so the last thing they want is someone trying to lecture them from a pedestal. In that context, I wonder how I can make my music matter. I haven't found an answer yet, but I keep trying to bring my own perspective to it.

As to whether he is afraid that the army he has on Instagram (42.4 million followers) might one day turn against him for a silly mistake or a blunder, RM answers bluntly. "Yes, it scares me. It scares me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. When I was younger I tried to come across as a cool guy who doesn't give a shit what other people think, but I don't think that's right anymore. I care about the publicity dimension of my career and the influence I can have on others. It stresses me out, yes, but I think I can handle it. That's why I don't retire or do things like go out and drink the night away and then drive drunk. I'm human, I can make mistakes, but I will do everything in my power to be the best version of myself. One of the keys is to treat this job for what it is: a job. I don't think artists have any special rights or status.

Note: if you would like me to translate another part of the interview, let me know.

#Namjoon #RM #vogue spain #bts #bts solo careers #bts break

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lalachat · 11 months

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"And there you were..."

Author's note: LET ME TELL YOU I HAVE NEVER WANTED TO FIGHT SOMEONE AS MUCH AS I DID WRITING THIS! Literally had this vision in my head and I got so heated I knew this was going to be a good chapter. MUAHAHA all the spooky vibes from Halloween are getting to me. I hope you guys enjoy this one because the plot is thickening. Also, I might be making a far stretch on one of the jokes i put in here... I am pretty sure these don't exist in ACOTAR but for the sake of the joke, just pretend they do 😭

Summary: After everyone in the Town House finding out about your night with Lucien and bond with Azriel, you have a nice relaxing night in with your girls... or so you thought it would be relaxing.

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: lots of cursing, talk of wingspan and sex, verbal violence, and potential grammar errors

Word Count: ≈ 3,154

Chapter 5: "GYNO?"

While you were getting ready, Feyre and Rhysand were back in their room discussing what they had just learned about you-

“What should we do Rhys? Az has been wishing for his mate for so long, but little does he know that he has been so infatuated with Elain it’s caused a blockage of his bond with y/n!” as she too is getting ready for girl’s night.

“The only thing we can do is be there for y/n and for Az when the time comes. This is a very peculiar situation y/n and Az have gotten themselves into,” he chuckles as he places his hands on the sides of her waist looking at her getting ready.

“I know, and this just has gotten messier with time. It already was messy enough with Lucien being Elain's mate and her liking Az. But now, y/n being Azriel’s mate and liking Lucien just seems way too coincidental. I can tell she likes him; she is just in denial because she's still holding onto some glimmer of hope with Azriel,” she pauses. “Something just feels off Rhys,” as she starts to think through what could be going on.

“I also feel like there is something is off, and I think it’s deeply rooted. Only time will tell Feyre darling,” he says as he kisses the top of her head as she finishes up getting ready.

“I would just hate for any of them to get hurt…” she frowns up at Rhys.

“And no one will, because we will be there for them every step of the way no matter what happens,” he reassures her with a soft kiss on her lips. “Now, go have some fun with the girls tonight! But not too much fun,” he looks at her with a playful smile.

“We cannot promise anything,” she giggles. “GNI here I come!”

“GNI?” Rhys questions at the unfamiliar term.

“GNI stands for “Girls Night In,” usually it is GNO, but staying in sounds better since we were out a Rita's not too long ago.” She explains.

“GNO? Isn't that a lady doctor?” Feyre burst out into full on laughter. Tears were spilling from her eyes from laughing so hard. Rhys just looked at her questioningly because he didn’t understand what was so funny.

“Rhys… oh bless your soul… GNO is the same thing as GNI, but you go out instead of staying inside. A lady doctor is called a gyno! Oh, I am so telling the girls this!” As she wipes the tears from her eyes and catches her breath.

“Ahh shit… I'm never living that down now…”

“Nope,” as she pops the end of the word as she walks down to the living room for girl's night.

You walk down the stairs into the main living room to find all the girls already there giggling over wine all cozy in their pajamas.

“Wow, already started without me huh?” you say with a fake frown. They all look at you and smile, clearly already seeing some effect of the wine Mor brought.

“No! Just decided to pre-game a little bit!” Mor smiles at you and walks to you to link arms and lead you over to the group. You giggle.

“Well then, the party has arrived! Looks like I need a couple of glasses to catch up to you all!” you laugh. You look over and spot Amren and give her a polite smile. “It's nice to see you again Amren!”

“You too girl,” she says. “We have a lot of catching up to do!” She eyes you a bit eager to know what has been going on, but Feyre steps in.

“Nonono! I am putting a veto on discussing all things that have happened recently! We are here to forget about that and have fun! Now ladies raise your glasses,” Amren rolls her eyes, but everyone raises their wine, “and cheers to us girls and the wonderful night ahead of us!” Everyone whoops and laughs as they take a swig of their wine. You decide to down your glass to try and catch up as everyone cheers you on!

“Thats how you do it baby!” Mor pats you on the back and goes to pour you another glass.

“Oh, this night in is going to be quite interesting,” Amren says with a grin.

“Speaking of, I have something to tell you guys about what Rhys asked me earlier,” Feyre burst into laughter.

“What is it? Tell us girl!” Amren says inpatient with her laughing.

“Rhysand asked me what GNI meant, and I explained that it is basically GNO but instead of going out we stay in the comfort of our own home,” Feyre explained trying to hold in her laughter.

“Ok so like basic information, I don’t understand what is so funny?” Nesta asked confused.

“It gets funny I promise! Rhysand didn’t know what the abbreviation of GNO meant either. He said, and I quote, “GNO? Isn't that a lady doctor?”” As Feyre erupted into a fit of laughter. “He thought GNO was a gyno!”

You were the first to laugh, “You’re joking?”

“I wish I was!” Feyre was on the ground crying, and everyone soon joined her. Even Amren choked on her wine a bit from laughing at the situation Feyre just informed you guys of. Oh, poor Rhys is never going to hear the end of this one from any of you guys.

A couple of glasses later everyone is most definitely feeling the effects of the wine a lot stronger than when you first started. All of you are cuddled up together in blankets giggling over anything and everything. You decided to bring something up that you have been curious about ever since you saw it.

“Hey, Nesta! When I came home earlier today, I saw Cassian reading one of your little books.” You wink at her. “What is the book about, and why was Cassian studying it so intently?” Nesta blushes.

“I made him read a specific chapter on something that I wanted to try…” she admits quietly as she drinks more of her wine. Everyone started screaming asking to know what it was.

“Oh, Nesta come on!! You have to tell us what it is now! We are all girls here, we can handle book smut, I'm sure!” Mor says as she sits up eagerly.

“Yeah, please Nesta!” everyone says simultaneously.

“You guys want a smutty bedtime story?” She giggles as she leaves to go to get her book, and everyone cheers. Nesta comes back with the book, and everyone is already in giggles excited about hearing something they might be able to apply into their lives. “Get comfortable girls because this chapter is going to be wild!”

Everyone’s faces were bright pink along with their jaws being on the floor hearing Nesta read the chapter from the sheer number of descriptions given. Amren was the only one who remained stone faced throughout the whole thing, but you could tell every word that fell from Nesta's lips were remembered by Amren.

“Well, I can surely see why you had Cassian read that chapter now,” Amren smirked as she finished off her glass.

“Especially with his wingspan,” you said quietly, but it did not go unheard as everyone looked your way. “What?! You guys act like you don’t see his wings every day! A girl can appreciate big wingspans and think nothing of it!” Except you do think about it a lot. Curious to know which one of the bat boys has the biggest one. Everyone giggles at your comment.

“Don’t let Cassian hear that y/n, it’ll go straight to his head and then he will tell Rhysand and Az that he has the biggest one,” Nesta said with a knowing smile.

“I don’t mean to be inappropriate, but I think everyone forgets about Rhyland's wings since he only has them for special occasions.” Feyre said smirking.

“Oh little sister, are you challenging my mate’s wingspan?” Nesta eyed playfully, but before Feyre could respond you chirped in with one more fact.

“Ladies we are forgetting about one more male,” you started to blush at the thought of your mate’s wingspan.

“Oh, my gods, Azriel!” Mor finished it for you with a shout, totally feeling dumb not even thinking about the male. “If I am being brutally honest, I think he blows the other two out the water with his wingspan,” Mor said with a smirk as she twirled her wine glass and gave you a wink. This made you really blush now.

“You really think Azriel has the biggest wingspan?” Feyre asked.

“Yes.” Amren spoke and this all made you laugh hearing her agree on something like this.

“Has anyone seen Azriel’s-” Nesta tried to question.

“No,” was heard throughout the room before Mor looked at you knowingly.

“The only person in this room who could even get that close would-be y/n,” Mor said matter of factly. You blushed so hard you hid your face behind your hands.

“Mor! Stop I don’t want that image in my head!” You said giggling.

“I wouldn’t mind it…” Nesta said with a smirk remembering her thought of both Cassian and Azriel. Once again everyone laughed. This night was full of so much comfort and laughter you truly felt so at peace. However, with wine come consequences.

“Oh I forgot y/n only favors a certain red head in bed,” Mor said without thinking.

“MOR!!” You glared at her, and she slapped her hands over her mouth and said sorry. But it was too late, they all heard it.

“YOU HAD SEX WITH LUCIEN?! I thought yall just cuddled all night?!” Feyre asked with a squeal scooting closer to you.

“Ah shit- I guess yall get to know everything now… Before I met you guys, I lived in the spring court for a while,” Mor sat back and nursed her wine waiting for the reaction of the others on what you were about to tell. You tell them the story just as you had with Mor in the bathroom at Rita's. Everyone was in shock to find out about your hidden casual sex relationship with the autumn court male. Feyre was once again the one to speak up first.

“Is what they say true?”

“Is what true Feyre?” you asked back.

‘About them you know… fucking you with the fire in their veins?” Feyre asked eagerly. Everyone then scooted closer to you just like Feyre did earlier. You giggled at their anticipation.

“Yes, and it is so much more than you could even imagine.” Everyone squealed at your response!

“Screw my book y/n, tell us about a time you and Lucien had sex together! I want to hear all about the fire thing!!” Nesta said as everyone else agreed, even Amren is eager. However, before you could respond you heard a sweet voice you wished you hadn’t.

“Y/n, you had sex with my mate?!” Elain said as she had just walked through the door with Azriel, both had bags in their hands from their shopping spree.

“Oh shi-” Mor said before Elain moved closer to you, Azriel following close behind her eyeing you with anger.

“Answer me y/n! Did you or did you not have sex with my mate?!” Elain raised her voice this time.

“Elain I- I don’t know what you heard but I can explain,” you tried to reason with her for gods know what. You owed this female nothing but here you were trying to diffuse the situation. She threw her bag to the floor and pointed a finger at your face.

“NO! You expect me to hear you out after I come home to see everyone having a girl’s night without me, let alone talking about you and Lucien having sex? You are such a backstabbing sl-” before Elain could finish that sentence off Nesta was at her side.

“Elain, seriously drop it. Y/n has a valid explanation, just hear her out,” Nesta pleaded but Elain didn’t care. Maybe it was the protectiveness of the bond coming out of her, but she was not backing down.

“No! I am done being the polite one! You had sex with my mate behind my back! Is that why you both left Rita's? I cannot believe you y/n! No wonder you haven’t found your mate! It’s because you are too busy being a slut and fucking someone else’s mate!” She was fully in your face now; you looked behind her to see Azriel looking like he was about to kill you for hurting Elain. Feyre tried to step in this time.

“Elain, you do not know what you are talking about, you need to stop now before you say something you will regret!”

“Feyre, I do know what I am talking about! I heard it clear as night! She fucked my mate!” You just about had enough of being talked about this way. You kindly pushed Feyre and Nesta away from Elain and gave them small smiles to say sorry for what you were about to do.

“You know Elain, that’s a lot of talk coming from you. A female who has a mate that gladly agreed to her wishes on space. He sleeps alone every night waiting for the day that you will accept him! Oh, but poor Elain has no one to love and accept her! Wake the fuck up! Your mate has done everything for you since the day he found out, and yet you are sleazing yourself away to someone else!” You point at Azriel. “You want to talk about a slut, look in the fucking mirror!” Nesta and Feyre are looking at each other not knowing what to do, while Amren and Mor decide to stay out of it and observe the situation, ready to jump in when needed.

“Be careful how you speak about-” Azriel’s voice said dangerously low, but before he could finish that sentence you cut him off.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit Az! It might have worked in that meeting but it sure as hell isn’t going to work here!” You glared at him. “You are just as much a part of this as I am! Letting her fawn over you knowing she has found her mate is ludicrous! Especially when you’re the one who has dreamt of having a mate to call his own for years! What if your mate was standing right in front of you all along?” Everyone in the room goes silent at your words as you step into his personal space. Azriel's shadows are dancing furiously around him as he glares at you. You try pulling on the bond but are met with nothing in return except emptiness. He still doesn't know.

“You bitch!” Elain cautiously pushes you away from Az. “How dare you talk to us this way when you’re the one who threw themself at my mate knowingly! At least we have self-control!” she pushes her finger against your chest. You swat it away.

“GODS ELAIN! Why do you always have to play the victim! You can never admit to anything you have done wrong! You and him both,” you point at her and Az, “are hurting more people than you realize with whatever you want to call yourselves!”

“Well at least we are happy, unlike your mate less self-” Elain tried to say as you yelled-

“THAT’S IT!” in an instant everyone was in between you. Nesta, Feyre, and Amren blocked you from Elain as Azriel and Mor held you back. “Let me go Azriel!” you thrash in their grip. You watch as Feyre and Nesta try and calm their sister. Amren serving as a middle ground between both groups. You keep thrashing around but it's no use. The shadow singer has you in a tight hold as Mor holds one of your arms. You look at Mor with pleading eyes, but she just shakes her head at you as if to say, “fighting her isn’t right.” And you knew that… You were just so taken back by both her and Azriel being against you without hearing your explanation. Sure, Elain was somewhat valid, but nowhere near as valid as the points you were making.

You soon calmed down and looked at Mor again, “Can you please let me go now? I won’t do anything… anymore.” Mor looked at Az and he put his lips against you ear and said-

“If you so much as think about insulting her or hurting her, I will not hesitate to fire back violence, so be a good girl and walk away.” You cannot lie, having your mate that close to you and hearing him call you a good girl had your heart betraying you for a moment. You shoved yourself out of their grip and stormed towards the door before you would do anything regrettable.

“Where do you think you’re going?! I am not done with you y/n!” Elain screamed as you walked past, the jealousy of the bond obviously still influencing her. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to see Azriel now trying to calm her down. Tears collected in your eyes at the sight. He was supposed to be doing that with you, not her! You begged, screamed, yelled, pushed, and thrashed against that bond inside of you fighting for any kind of response. You don’t know how long you stood there mindlessly watching him comfort Elain as you used every fiber of your being against the bond and got nothing in return. That was your last straw. The wicked voice in your head took full control. Quite literally letting all intrusive thoughts win. You started laughing.

“Gods Elain you have everyone in this damn world wrapped around your pretty little finger, don’t you? Well guess what, I see right through your fucking act of desperation for the male gaze and male attention.” Azriel looked at you as a warning to watch your next words, but Elain ran out of his arms and ran straight to you. You and she were now face to face. A test to see who was daring enough to hit first.

“Fuck you y/n!!” Elain said with a pause between each word, and you smirked.

“I may not be able to fuck myself Elain, but you know what I can fuck?” you slightly paused as the realization hit her. “I can go fuck with fire!” you say with a wink as you walk out the Town House’s front door straight to Lucien’s apartment.

Lucien’s POV:

Lucien was relaxing on his couch reading one of his favorite books before he felt it. An overwhelming flood of emotions hitting him. It was as if they were screaming at him from two different ends of the bond. He learned how to process Elain’s end of the bond throughout the years, but whatever was going on was too much to deal with. This was all unknown feeling. Lucien ran to grab his coat and he quickly put it on. Just as he was reaching for his door to run to Elain, he heard a hard knock. He opened the door to find you in a fit of rage as you stormed inside. “Okay, just come on in why don’t you.” he said sarcastically as he shut the door behind you. "Nice pajamas by the way," he says jokingly before looking at you to see you glaring at him. "Shit, who pissed in your wine tonight?"

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know!

Tags:

@thelov3lybookworm @justdreamstars @character---obsessed @stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbooksandshadows @sourapplex @annaaaaa88 @b0xerdancer-writes @fireworksacrosshorizons @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @mis-lil-red @fides25

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #cassian #elain archeron #feyre acotar #nesta archeron #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #mor acotar

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elizabeethan · 14 days

Text

Not With Haste

An Overboard Conclusion

Oh hi, where the hell did this come from? I'm wondering the same thing. in reality, @donteattheappleshook talked to me about oarfish maybe 2 years ago and I started writing something stupid. I always intended to finish it and post it for @the-darkdragonfly's birthday, but I never found it in me to complete it. Then tonight I found that stupid thing and I finished it. You never know when that funny little creativity bug might bite, I guess.

I've always wanted to write some form of conclusion for Overboard because it's one of my favorite things that I've written. I first published Overboard way back in May of 2021, and looking back, I've grown and learned a lot and there are things I would probably do differently if I started the story over again, but I can't see myself ever editing it because I love what I wrote. Would I rewrite it into a novel and really flesh out the story and the characters? A girlie can dream, never say never, you never know when the creativity bug might bite, etc.

I hope everyone here is well, I know I am for the most part, and I'll never stop being grateful for this little community that I found all those years ago. More than that, I'll never stop being grateful for the feeling of being able to come back after a time away. It's been fun to log back in to everything and pick up where I left off as if no time has passed. (It's been so long since I've done this so if the formatting is all messed up, I'm really sorry, but I barely knew what I was doing.)

Long story short, this story is finally complete. It's barely edited and it's not beta'd, so thank you for giving it a chance.

Rated T I think

~2300 words

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Stuff

~~~~

Even after sixteen years of marriage, Killian often finds himself wondering what on earth could possibly be going through his wife’s head.

The thoughts of wonderment and confusion strike him at the oddest of times, always in response to something she’s said or done and never with any sort of answer. The first time he knew he was in trouble was fifteen years ago, when he returned home from a trip to find she had adopted a rottweiler. Still, Ripple refuses to retire from her post as the Jones’ Harbor Tours’ mascot, and Emma often tries to convince him that it’s because she’s as stubborn as her father.

In truth, Emma Jones is the most stubborn person he has ever met in his life, a fact which will likely never be contested.

He finds himself confused so often that he can barely recount any examples of her free spirited nature. (She calls herself a wild child, although she often shouts at him whenever he uses the term in bed.) There was the time she impulsively began tearing up the tile flooring in the bathroom after watching three whole YouTube tutorials (her words), only to sob into his already sea-soaked sweater when she realized how physically taxing reflooring an entire room is without any experience, general tiling knowledge, materials, or help. Then there was the time she randomly asked him if he would still love her if she was a worm, and then became irrationally angry when he found himself unable to answer without first asking clarifying questions. And the incident when she questioned his loyalty to her when he refused to hunt down and kill the person who bumped into her parked car and drove off. He later discovered that the question came after she had finished some romance novel about the mafia. He chose not to dig any deeper into that one.

All this to say: Killian’s wife is a free spirit, a wild child, a confusing, strange, barely-readable woman who stole his heart in one breath and has yet to give it back almost two decades later.

And, he has no idea what the bloody hell she’s talking about more than half the time.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Emma (Trophy Wife): have you ever see this??? In the wild??????

Emma (Trophy Wife): Attached: 1 Image

Killian: What are you doing?

He shakes his head, as exasperated as he is filled with a warm sense of comfort, just like he always is whenever he sees the name she gave herself the moment their vows were exchanged pop onto his phone screen.

Emma (Trophy Wife): they inhabit the atlantic ocean. *vomiting emoji*

Killian: Stop watching National Geographic if it’s going to make you nauseous.

Emma (Trophy Wife): that’s where you worked!!

Killian: That’s also where we live.

Emma (Trophy Wife): you never saw one in your sexy fisherman days? LOOK at that thing.

Killian quickly discovers that she’s referring to an Oarfish. They’re the longest known bonefish and inhabit very deep water, are rarely seen or caught alive, and are thought to be generally harmless. Still, he knows that these facts will not prevent his wife from overreacting, so he chooses not to bother.

Though she’s always hidden it well, Emma has a strange fear of creatures of the deep, as she often calls them. She’s told him that the tuna he used to pull onto the deck of his boat didn’t bother her– even though they were often almost twice her height in length and weighed upwards of 1,000 pounds– because they were no longer in the water. But the thought of running into one of those slimy bastards while swimming gives her panicky symptoms— her words. He hasn’t bothered to point out the absolute impossibility of her ever running into a giant bluefin tuna while swimming, either. After sixteen years of marriage, he’s learned which battles are better left unfought.

Of course, there are times when his correcting her drives her absolutely mad, often to the point of her feeling compelled to kiss him in order to shut him up, and he navigates those moments very carefully and with a smirk on his lips.

Killian: They aren’t known to be predatory.

Emma (Trophy Wife) disliked “They aren’t known to be predatory.”

Killian: Attached: 1 Image

Killian: You see? They have small mouths and no teeth. Harmless.

It’s unlike her to wait so long to reply, as she’s often glued to her phone at least when she’s mid conversation. But it’s almost a full two minutes that he finds himself standing in front of the display of pasta sauce, looking like a complete fool and blocking the path of an elderly woman, breath bated as he waits for a response from her. Bloody hell, he thinks to himself as he shakes his head. He’s known the woman for eighteen years and he still can hardly breathe in anticipation of whatever adorably inane thought leaves her mouth without any sort of filter.

Emma (Trophy Wife): Attached: 1 Video

Lovely. Even as he watches the attached video of her silently dry heaving, he’s desperately in love with her. He watches it again.

Her blonde hair has gone lighter over the years, streaks of white coloring through the gold in a way that makes her look somehow even more sexy and playful than when he first laid eyes on her. There are soft creases beside her eyes as she squeezes them shut, her mouth open and her tongue out as she pretends to be so violently offended by the image he sent her that it’s made her ill.

Emma (Trophy Wife): expect consequences when you get home. even if you get the good mac and cheese.

Emma (Trophy Wife): you KNOW how i feel about serpents and sea monsters.

Killian: I do.

Emma (Trophy Wife): … and????

Killian: I’m sorry for traumatizing you with my serpent.

Killian: And for how that just sounded.

Emma (Trophy Wife): if you’re not home in 34 minutes i’m not touching your serpent for two whole days.

Killian: Well, now that I'm familiar with your gag reflex…

Emma (Trophy Wife): 33 minutes.

~~~~

Ripple is the oldest dog Killian has ever known. Her silver snout and eyebrows catch in the setting sun, and it’s painfully obvious from her gait how sore her joints are, but still, at his arrival home, she hurries her way towards him with as much enthusiasm as she can muster.

Their vet has told them that she’s the healthiest dog he’s treated in a while, considering her age, and Emma uses that as a point of pride for their perfect child.

“Hi, darling,” he says when she finally reaches him, her soft smile lighting up her face once he drops the reusable grocery bags in order to give her a scratch behind the ears. Killian’s getting up there in age, too, but he still manages to squat down to her level and kiss her nose.

The two of them make quite the pair while Killian struggles back into a standing position and then they both hobble towards the front door. His fishing career was lucrative and rewarding, but dammit if it didn’t lead to stiff joints that his wife pokes fun at. She’s never met a “my husband is older than me” joke she hasn’t loved.

“I’m glad you both made it,” she happily chortles from the kitchen, making him smile. He’s never smiled more widely than he does with Emma.

“The abuse I’m subjected to,” he mutters as he drops the bags on the floor for her to peruse. It’s a deal they made years ago; Killian does the shopping because the grocery store makes Emma too itchy, and she puts the groceries away in exchange.

She snorts when she pulls out the bag of goldfish, sending Killian a playful smirk. “Looks like a good haul.”

“Aye, love. I thought you might enjoy a fishy treat after our conversation.”

“Always so thoughtful,” she murmurs as she makes her way to him. The kitchen is small, but they’ve always had just enough space for the three of them.

“It’s a difficult cross to bear,” he nods, catching her wrist as soon as she’s close enough to pull towards him. “But anticipating your needs is one of the many responsibilities I take very seriously.”

Emma’s hands land on his neck, fingers tangling with the silver hair at the back of his head while her thumbs trace along his jaw. She likes to call him a silver fox when she’s feeling playful. “My perfect husband,” she says softly, voice syrupy sweet in that way that still manages to get him excited.

“I couldn’t be a perfect husband without my perfect wife,” he answers, earning a beaming grin that he barely catches before her lips press to his.

It never ends. The way he wants her has been an inferno so intense since the day they met, and it hasn’t been snuffed out in all these years. The moment she’s near him, his blood starts to simmer, and once she touches him, kisses him like she is now, he’s a goner.

Her tongue is soft as it sweeps over the seam of his lips, lazily working to deepen the kiss they share. She kissed him with urgency, but not with haste, never rushing but always desperate. It’s enough to have him pushing her backwards, her lower back softly pressing against the counter before he lifts her onto it. Emma’s legs part seemingly without her even thinking about it, and before either of them have a chance to put the rotisserie chicken in the refrigerator, he wonders if he should just carry her to their room. Part of him has this never ending need to show her just how desperate he still is for her.

But then, she speaks.

“Wait,” she breathes, chest rising and falling rapidly as her warm breath fans over his mouth, her forehead still pressed to his and her fingers clinging to the collar of the light sweater he wears.

“Yes, love?” he asks, perfectly prepared to answer whatever silly question she likely has as long as he can have her after.

“About the oarfish…”

He fights a groan. “I promise you, there is absolutely no chance of you ever seeing an oarfish for as long as you live.”

“I know, I did plenty of research while you were gone.”

He breathes out a soft laugh, his smile growing when she kisses it. “What’s wrong, then?”

“Would you still love me if I was an oarfish?”

His world stops for just a moment. Just a second, really, as he tries to right his mind and will a tiny bit of blood back to his brain so that he can answer this very unimportant and yet somehow very vital question correctly.

“If you were an oarfish,” he starts, hand sliding up from her hip to her ribs before finding her cheek, “then I would be an oarfish. And we would be married and have a pet… eel, perhaps. Named Ripple. And we would live in a tiny oarfish cottage and be happy and in love for as long as oarfish live.”

Emma sighs, the softest smile on her perfect lips making him crazy as her arms wrap around his neck in one of his favorite hugs.

“I love you,” she whispers into his ear. He’ll never tire of this. Of the soft, almost unfathomable way that the love they have for one another strikes at the most random times.

“I love you, too, Swan. Always. No matter what species we are.”

“And I love you, no matter how much older you are than me.”

He grabs her then, hoisting her against him to the best of his ability as her ankles cross at his back. “Disrespectful,” he murmurs, carrying her from the kitchen and happily forgetting about the frozen broccoli florets, not cuts she made him buy.

“You better teach me a lesson, then,” she taunts with a smirk, as if that isn’t exactly what she was after.

“Don’t act like that isn’t exactly what you want, love.”

“Don’t act like you don’t get off on giving me exactly what I want.”

To that, he just returns her smirk and offers a quick smack to her ass before dropping her onto the bed they share, because he knows she’s right. For the rest of his days, he’ll be happy, as long as he has his family.

~~~~

I'm using my old tag list from 2 years ago. If you don't want to be tagged, I'm real sorry and let me know if I should remove you

@kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones-blog @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @winterbaby89 @ultraluckycatnd @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @pirateprincessofpizza @killianslefthook

#cs ff #cs ff au #overboard #not with haste #overboard ff #captain swan au #cs fluff #captain swan fluff

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citrus-moonlight · 4 months

Text

Salvation is a Deep Dark Well

Chapter 2: Raise Your Chin and Howl

[ Masterlist - Part Two ] -> [ Masterlist - Part One ]

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader Word count: 9.7K Chapters: 2/6 Rating: Explicit

Summary: The actions of others leads to chaos at the compound, and after Klaue returns to deal with the aftermath you're surprised to learn that his reasons for being upset aren't what you think, and you finally have to admit some things that you've been denying.

Warnings: Explicit!, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, Use of Pet Names, Injury, Workplace Injury, Mention of Blood, Reference to Guns, Insecurity (Reader is an Idiot), Light Angst, Smut, Dirty Talk, Teasing, Reference to Masturbation (M), Finger Sucking, Spit Kink, Oral Sex (M receiving), Brief Rough Oral, Cock Worship, Messy Blowjob, Mouth Fucking, Cum Swallowing, Hair Holding/Pulling, Guided Masturbation (F), Mild Size Kink, Soft Dom, Teasing, Praise Kink, Porn With Plot, More Accidental Feelings Oh No

AN: Welcome back, friends! It's been quite a while since I updated this one, but I'm excited to finally bring you so more of these two! it wasn't so much that this one got away from me, but what I wanted (and needed) to do with it was getting more involved, and ultimately I'm happy with how this ended up turning out. Especially since I also accidentally wrote a holiday "interlude" story that comes after this but before what was supposed to be the next chapter (which is now chapter four), which was simultaneously challenging and helpful in finding the right balance in this part as things progress.

As always, thank you for reading and to everyone who has commented or reblogged so far, and I am unendingly grateful to those who have provided encouragement and support through this writing of this story. I hope that you enjoy! 💕

AO3 Link

Title is from "Hands Like Roots" by The Builders and the Butchers

And if thee should die tonight Well it won't be without a sound When your hands move like roots Making their way through the ground

The afternoon is crisp but bright when you step outside, the sun actively working to melt much of the late autumn snow that had fallen overnight.

You’d only gone out to take a quick inventory of the oxygen and argon stock, but when you make your way past the loading dock to get to the storage cages you see something that makes you pause and do a double take.

On the compound’s property there are three industrial propane tanks that power and heat the facility, and today they were scheduled to be refilled before the snow properly settles in the mountains making the roads difficult to access during winter.

The refilling had already been completed and the tankers should have been long on their way, so you’re surprised when you see what appears to be a fuel transfer being done between the two bobtail trucks, which is illegal except in special circumstances, and making it more concerning they're also uncomfortably close to the loading dock.

On top of that, as far as you’re aware this compound isn’t licensed to allow truck to truck transfers at all - something that would normally only be done at the refilling plant - making it doubly illegal

And while this might not be a facility where “legality” is necessarily a top concern, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still dangerous and incredibly stupid.

“What are you doing?” You blurt out, standing stock-still as you stare at Anatoly, the man who seems to be directing what’s happening. You weren’t necessarily on friendly terms with the Sokovian man, but you had chatted occasionally and he’d seemed to have more sense than this.

“We didn’t want to do it right next to the big tanks.” He gestures across the yard.

You continue to stare, perplexed.

“Ok, well, you shouldn’t be doing it here at all, but now you’re right next to the building, and the five pound tanks -”

“It was the only place flat enough for both trucks.”

“- are a lot closer than those big ones.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” He brushes you off, starting to get visibly frustrated that you won’t let it go.

Changing tacks you turn to one of the drivers who’s in conversation with Milo, a welder you recognize from another shift.

“Hey, you know you’re not supposed to be doing this here, right?”

“He doesn’t know how, so I’m doing it for him,” Anatoly replies before the driver can answer himself. “You’re making a big deal from nothing.”

“Why are you doing it at all? Unless there’s an emergency you can’t just -”

“I’ve done it before.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Listen, they both would've had to go back to their plant, but now one can go straight to the next job.”

“So let me get this straight: Doing a favour for someone whose job doesn’t have anything to do with you is a good enough reason to create a potentially dangerous situation here? I don’t think that Klaue will love hearing that.”

“You’re not going to tell him.” His annoyed demeanor quickly shifts, his expression going icy.

“No? Why wouldn’t I? You’re doing something incredibly stupid and I think that he should-”

“So you’re going to snitch on me?” He sneers.

“About this? Yeah, I guess I am. And if you’re concerned about him finding out then you must have at least enough common sense to-”

“I don’t need common sense to know that you- ”

“Jesus Christ, would you let me finish a fucking sentence!”

Your voice surprises you and to Anatoly’s credit he actually shuts up, scowling like a petulant teenager who’s realizing that they’re not going to be able to intimidate their way out of trouble.

The other workers who had been milling around and watching half-interestedly now straighten up and turn towards the trucks.

“You.” Gesturing at both drivers, pleased that they at least appear to be somewhat chastised.

“You are supposed to be in control at all times. These trucks are your responsibility from start to finish and you’re letting him do something that’s illegal just to save a bit of time?”

“He offered!” The first one exclaims.

“Which he shouldn’t have, but you should have said no and moved on.”

You turn back to Anatoly whose mouth is downturned in an almost comical grimace.

“And you may think this is no big deal but I very much doubt that Klaue would appreciate you being so flippant about potentially damaging his operation.”

He looks like he wants to say something else but bites his tongue, his stare still condescending even though he knows you’re right and has no argument left.

At this point, and while you wouldn’t be surprised to learn it, you’re not yet aware that there’s a crack in the hose near to the end connected to the receiving truck. Before you’d even gone outside propane vapour had been steadily leaking out, the only indication that there was a problem the occasional whiff of mercaptan - faint and not out of the ordinary from a typical delivery.

Normally this wouldn’t be an issue and the vapours would simply disperse since you’re outdoors, but it’s unusually calm today with next to no breeze to move the air, allowing the heavier than air propane molecules to instead pool between the trucks like an invisible low-lying fog.

As it is, you’re relieved when everything is finally disconnected and sealed up, and having abandoned your inventory you turn to make your way back inside to try to get this documented, even if others think that you really are overreacting and Anatoly doesn’t face the consequences you think he should.

“You know, maybe next time you could- ”

You’re cut off again, but instead of a condescending comment this time it's by the sudden percussion of an explosion.

When the full truck’s engine started up an unknown faulty battery sparked and ignited the vapours that had been collecting, the flashback loud enough that your ears don’t register the sound until you’re already on the ground.

Fortunately you manage not to hit your head but your shoulder feels like you’re lucky it didn’t dislocate when you landed. Slowly pushing yourself up onto your elbow you look around, blinking until your vision slowly comes back into focus and you realize with a sinking feeling that the truck itself is now burning, flames appearing to emerge from one of the valves at the rear.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, momentarily frozen in place as you watch the flames growing quickly in front of your eyes.

You know that as the temperature rises the pressure inside the tanker does as well, and it needs to be stopped before the valve can no longer vent faster than the pressure is building, and you have no way of knowing whether any of the internal mechanisms were damaged in the explosion, so you may have even less time than normal.

Finally you manage to convince your muscles to move. Sucking in a breath you grit your teeth and force yourself to standing, moving as quickly as you can to reach the cabinet that houses the fire extinguishers, and then Milo is suddenly there next to you.

“I’ll take this one,” he offers and you quickly nod your thanks. Maneuvering over to the truck you unspool your hose and get as close as you can until the heat of the flames forces you back.

Stumbling briefly from the recoil when you pull the nozzle’s lever back you grimace at the sudden jolt of pain in your shoulder but manage to recover quickly, widening your stance to better brace yourself and focus the thick white cloud on the brightest part of the fire.

Thankfully the flames seem to be quickly smothered and you move closer as the heat begins to die down. Occasionally you or Milo alternate your focus on the truck’s own fuel tank, working to extinguish the burning propane while also trying to prevent the diesel from possibly igniting as well.

You can see Tom in your peripheral now, dimly aware of him barking directions, relieved that someone else was there to take charge, and even when the fire appears to be doused you keep your hoses pointed at the truck until both extinguishers have been completely emptied.

Finally, after what feels like hours but was probably less than fifteen minutes since you had walked outside you take a deep, shaky breath and simply sit down right where you stand in the mess of slush and extinguisher residue.

You can almost feel the adrenaline physically draining out of your system, your jaw involuntarily clenching as you begin to shiver. You’re not sure who’s hand squeezes your shoulder, your mind feels fuzzy as mild shock sets in, and it takes conscious effort to release your grip from the hose that’s still sitting across your lap and slowly stand back up.

You're buzzing wildly between a range of emotions: anger, frustration, relief, a blanket of exhaustion settling over all of it as you waver on unsteady legs, tamping down the thoughts of how much more badly this could have gone.

Two days after the incident with the trucks and the ringing in your ears has nearly stopped, and aside from stiff muscles and a painterly bruise blooming across your shoulder you'd come out of it all more or less unscathed.

Once the chaos had wound down and things could be assessed it was fortunate that damage was minimal and the overall injuries turned out to be minor, mostly cuts and bruises from being knocked over or from the burst of gravel from the initial explosion. Even the alarming amount of blood you'd seen running down Anatoly’s face ended up just being a superficial gash.

There are already at least two versions of what happened circulating through the facility, one casting your actions more favourably and one much less so (no question where that one started), though you’re not particularly concerned which version others decide to believe. Enough people witnessed what actually happened, and regardless you know that what you did was the right thing, and you’re confident that Klaue will see that.

You haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet but he's supposed to be on his way back, abandoning the South African coast early to assess the damage and meet with the kind of investigators that a facility that doesn’t exist in the strictest sense will allow.

Although you have his return to look forward to, you can’t help still feeling on edge as the dregs of adrenaline continue to circulate in your blood, and you regularly have to force yourself to take a deep inhale when you realize that your breathing has gone shallow again.

Fortunately you’ve had a simple job the last couple of days, spending your shift taking apart scrap metal to be sent to a foundry to be melted down. Oxy acetylene cutting can be physically taxing and it's hot as hell but it doesn’t require finesse, and right now you’re happy to simply let muscle memory guide you, focusing only on regulating the flow of gas and keeping the glide of the flame’s sharp tip steady as you work.

You’re waiting for the disassembled pieces you'd just cut to cool before moving them so that you can start on the next section when there’s a sudden burst of activity at the entrance to the shop, and when you turn towards the disturbance you see that Klaue has just walked in.

His eyes have already found you but the swell of excitement at seeing him unexpectedly is quickly replaced by confusion when you register his dark expression.

“You.” He points, singling you out from the crowd. “Come with me.”

Your mouth drops open in surprise at the anger in his tone, and when you don’t immediately move to follow he raises his eyebrows, impatience clear in the tight set of his jaw.

“Now.” He grits through clenched teeth.

“Ohh, someone’s in trouble.”

You whip around to find the source of the taunt, the anger and frustration that you haven’t fully processed surging out in a red-hot wave, and the words are out before you can think.

“Shut the fuck up!”

The idiot is looking at you like he’s made some world-class joke and you're ready to lay into him, but suddenly his focus moves behind you and the smirk drops away as the blood drains from his face.

Slowly turning to follow his eyes you see Klaue standing as still as a steel lathe with his arm extended, but it takes several seconds for you to register that the leather holster on his leg is empty and his gun now aimed at the center of the man's chest.

“Shit.” You gasp.

All of the oxygen seems to have been sucked out of the room and you're rooted to the spot, your hearing gone muffled and tinny. The joker’s eyes are flashbulb wide, standing with his arms jutting into the air as though that might have any impact on what happens next.

Every inch of Klaue appears calm, you might almost say he was relaxed if it weren't for the weapon in his hand. But the unmistakable fury in his eyes colours them nearly black, an obsidian blade glinting in the shadows simply waiting for an excuse to strike, and though he speaks quietly you know that everyone watching this happen can hear every word clear as day.

“If you ever speak to her about anything other than this job again...”

He doesn't finish the sentence, he doesn't have to, the sound of the safety lever being flicked off is deafening. The only movement in the room is the flex of tendons in Klaue's hand as his thumb deftly finds the switch.

You’re not sure whether the man is actually breathing, and even though your own heart is pounding out of your chest you find that you’re not exactly upset about the look of abject fear in his eyes.

“No! I mean I won’t! I didn’t mean anything, I’m sorry I-” he stammers, panicked eyes flicking back and forth between the weapon and Klaue’s face, forcing his hands almost comically high until his biceps are covering his ears.

No one else speaks.

After several more excruciating seconds you finally hear the click of the safety re-engaging and you let out the breath you’d been holding as he slowly replaces the gun in its holster.

Then he turns back to you and repeats:

“Now.”

You have to work to keep up with Klaue’s brisk pace as you make your way through the warren of hallways, eventually ending up in an area you’d only passed by before. You follow him into a room filled with various pieces of vaguely familiar military equipment, a heavy desk and a bank of monitors against one wall, and in your still flustered state it’s only when he closes the door behind you that you realize that he’s taken you to his office.

He walks over and leans on the desk, weight braced on his knuckles as his shoulders rise and fall, each breath slow and deep.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you - in fact he hasn’t looked at you since he’d turned away expecting you would follow.

“Klaue?”

You think that you note a brief hitch in his breathing, but beyond that he doesn’t respond.

“Listen, it’s been a long couple of days and I’d really appreciate it if you’d tell me what’s going on.”

“What you did was dangerous.” He replies quietly, finally seeming to find his words.

You sigh. You’re not entirely surprised that that’s what this is about but you’re still irritated and your lingering anger is back at the surface, leaving you fighting to keep your response measured. You’re not the one who’d done anything wrong. You thought he’d understand that.

“I did what needed to be done, that whole situation was getting worse by the second.“

“You put yourself in harm's way. There was no need to get that close when there had already been an explosion.”

“So was I just supposed to stand around with my mouth hanging open like almost everyone else? Or walk away and pretend that nothing was happening?”

“You didn’t need to get yourself involved, period. Those men would have dealt with the consequences of their actions.”

You throw your hands up in resignation.

“This is perfect, I was one of the few people actually trying to help, and yet I’m the one you’re taking it out on? That seems par for the course in all of this.”

Finally Klaue turns around to face you.

“I’m not- ”

"What about Milo? Or more importantly the asshole that actually caused the whole fucking mess??" You're close to yelling now, unable to help it as your anger and disappointment finally boil over.

"Do you really think he hasn't already been dealt with?” He replies sharply. “He’s gone, and won't be stepping foot in another shop anywhere, ever again. I'll be making sure of it.”

There's something flat in his eyes that cloaks the usual sharp blue.

“Ok, well…good.” You’re happy to hear it, though you’re still only somewhat placated. “But that doesn’t change the fact that the damage could have been so much worse if that truck had kept burning. I had to do something."

"That shouldn’t be your concern. I would have handled it."

“More people would have gotten injured.”

“I’m aware.”

“Or killed!"

"You could have gotten- "

He cuts himself off with a sharp exhale, fists balled tight at his sides.

He hasn’t raised his voice until now, but it's his tone and the way his words waver that gives you pause. As you watch Klaue collect himself you feel something trying to work its way into your chest - something that’s whispering to you what that clouded look in his eyes might have been.

Fear.

He’s visibly tense, lips pressed in a thin line as he takes a step toward you, broad shoulders curling inwards in an almost protective posture.

“I know you didn’t have anything to do with the accident, and that you wanted to help. But what you did still wasn't-”

He stops again and it surprises you, normally so certain of his words and not exactly afraid to speak his mind, you instead watch the muscles of his jaw working as his eyes burn into yours.

“This is a risky job.” You finally break the silence, trying to reason with him, taking your own tentative step closer to him. “Even when I’m not working for an arms dealer, by the way. Anywhere in this trade mistakes like that can happen.”

There’s a soft “careful” in the quick tilt of his head, and even now you feel a spark of relief at the flash of that familiar part of him.

“And you got hurt here.”

You only realize that your hand has been rubbing your bruised shoulder when you notice his eyes have shifted to watch your fingers.

“So did other people! Why am I being singled out? What is the concern about me?”

A part of him seems to drift from you again, and when he doesn’t respond a vice of cold steel begins to tighten around your chest. Has he discerned the real question that was hidden in your words? Is he angry? Disappointed? Indifferent?

Damnit, you curse yourself.

You wished you hadn’t said it but the recent stress has eroded your filters and you couldn’t help but push. Even though you’re not going to get the answer you can barely admit that you want.

“If you had really been hurt. If you had gotten killed..”

When his eyes focus on you again there’s a coldness in them that you’ve only seen hints of before, but now it’s right there at the surface, clear and sharp and seething.

“That man wouldn’t be gone, he would be dead.”

Oh.

Klaue’s words are laced with a calm certainty that sets your heart racing, your skin prickling hot under the weight of his gaze as you stand there shocked silent by his admission, unsure how to respond.

Just as suddenly as it appeared the cold begins to melt away, his eyes sweeping over you as if confirming that you’re still there, still whole and standing in front of him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be concerned about you?” He asks, a curious frown knitting his brows.

You’re not sure how to respond to that either and you’re quiet for several long moments, chewing your lower lip while you consider, nervous for a different reason now.

He’s pushing you back, and it’s what you wanted (what you needed), not letting you get away with hiding, because if you’re going to ask the question you need to answer it, too.

But he must know it’s not a simple question, and right now you can’t give him a simple answer.

“I don’t…know what this is.” You start, haltingly.

The first threads of an admission that there’s something for this to be.

An admission that although a part of you has known it since the first night he slowly, achingly buried himself inside you, you can no longer pretend that he hasn’t already ruined you.

”Neither do I.” He concedes, slowly closing the last steps that separate you, surprised to find yourself relaxing at his words. It's not an answer, not yet, but still an acknowledgement, that you’re both uncertain but unable to help the way that you’re drawn together. Moths lost in the dark, instinctively picking up on the invisible spark of the other.

His hand reaches up to touch the shoulder that you'd been massaging.

“Let me see.” Klaue rumbles softly as he moves to lift the edge of your shirt, and silently you help him work your arm from the sleeve before he pulls the garment the rest of the way off, leaving you in your sports bra.

“I don’t know that I have to know, but I-”

You start to speak but then inhale a sharp breath when his palm slides over your shoulder, soothing the bruised warmth, fingers also dance along the scar on your other arm which was fortunately not the side you’d landed on.

“And I don’t know if I can tell you.” His frown deepens as he takes in the angry bloom of purpling skin. “But I haven’t been able to think about anyone else since you’ve been here.”

You hadn’t assumed anything but you can’t help the sting of relief, even as you fight to hold back the dam of want that’s cracking open beneath your ribs.

But when his hand slides up over your shoulder, your neck, tilting your head so that you meet his eyes, you realize that it's a battle you've already lost.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, the other hand pressing flat against the firm warmth of his chest.

“I hadn’t been seeing anyone for a while, before Utrech..” You start and then pause, your eyes slipping closed with a sigh as you sink into the sensation of his palm against your cheek. “But even when I was still trying to pretend that I didn’t…since then it hasn’t even occurred to me to think about anyone but you.”

“Is that right?” Klaue’s voice hums with a pleased timbre though his eyes flick searchingly across your face.

“Yes. There’s no one else. Not now, not-”

Not ever.

“No one has ever come close to making me feel the way you do, Ulysses. And maybe I don’t know what this is, but…I know that I don’t want to stop.”

The last words come out in a breathless rush, forced out before you can overthink and lock them away again. Finally admitting it as much to yourself as to him.

“I’m not going to stop, darling. Not a fucking chance.”

You nearly laugh with giddy relief but it’s interrupted when his hand tightens around your jaw, leaning in so that his mouth is hovering over yours as you press your body flush against him, arching into the stiffening ridge of his erection that juts into your hip.

You try to angle your mouth to find the warmth of his lips against yours, but strong hands continue to hold you just there, a breath apart. The air has shifted, a charge growing in the dwindling space between you that leaves your skin tingling from the near contact, and when you feel a faint brush of his lips against yours an audible whine slides from your throat.

“That night, after the bar, I thought about you.” Klaue continues.

“You did?”

“Yes.” He nearly groans the word. “Thought about how you'd taste when you come.”

The wet heat that’s been building in your core surges at his words, at the sudden image of him flushed and sweaty, his fist moving in rough strokes over his swollen cock and the thought of you in his head.

One of your hands begins to slide between your bodies, needy fingers plucking at his belt, reaching beneath the waistband and tugging.

“Thought about taking you into the back, finding a quiet corner, having you on your knees in front- in front of me.” His voice hitches and he shudders when you find the now stiff curve of his cock beneath the fabric.

“And then..when you were there, kneeling, I was sure I was dreaming. But you were so much better than my dreams. Such a tease, weren’t you?” He hums, and you can hear the grin even as his voice drops to a rasp of granite and silk.

“Thinking you could get away with that.”

Klaue’s hips rock into your touch as you squeeze more firmly, sliding your hand along the shape of him, rewarded with a harsh sigh as he pulls back and fixes his eyes fix on yours. You thrill at the heat that you find there, helplessly reaching for the flames that lick against your skin.

That invite you to burn.

“I didn’t think that for a second. But I already apologized, didn’t I?”

A flash of him holding you against the door, desperation on your lips as he finally let you fall apart.

“Oh, you thought that was your apology? Getting to come on my fingers?”

“I didn’t, I mean-” You stammer, the movement of your hand faltering even as his admonition sends another wave of heat through your body.

“I’m afraid not, darling. And right now..” Your eyelids flutter and it takes a moment to realize that he’s waiting to make sure he has your attention.

“Y-yes?”

“Maybe I do.”

“You do…what?” Frowning, you try to figure out his meaning through the growing haze of arousal.

“Want to take it out on you.”

Your eyes snap to his, molten sapphire when you meet them.

“And maybe,” Klaue’s thumb swipes across the corner of your lips. “I want to take it out on this mouth of yours.”

His eyes flick down to catch your tongue peeking out as you reflexively lick your lips.

“Because a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about that sweet promise you made on your knees.”

His thumb slides against the seam of your lips, smug when they part easily beneath the pressure.

He tsks, but any response you might give is cut off when he pushes past your teeth and your tongue gratefully tastes the calloused skin. But just as you move to take his thumb deeper into your mouth he pulls back, quickly replacing it with his index and middle fingers before you can lament the loss, and you can’t help but moan around the thick digits.

Eagerly you begin to slide your mouth along them, slowly bobbing your head, taking them further until they’re far enough back that your gag reflex triggers and your body stiffens, squeezing your eyes shut as you force yourself to take slow breaths.

Eventually your eyelids flutter open again, your focus coming back to him and the pleased look in his eyes.

Once you catch your breath you increase the suction of your lips to pull his fingers a little deeper, your tongue teasing around and between his two fingers, the texture of his warm skin contrasted with the smooth edges of his ring.

The next time you pull back he takes the opportunity to add a third finger, his other hand reaching up to cup the back of your neck, gently but firmly holding your head in place as he slides them all the way into your mouth again until his thumb and pinky are cradling your jaw.

Klaue’s mouth has dropped open, his breathing gone rough as he watches your lips stretching around his fingers. Both of your hands have moved to grip his shirt, steadying yourself, your eyes beginning to water as your breath comes in quick gasps.

“Shhh,” he soothes. “Just like that.”

His fingers stay where they are until your breathing slows again, nearly wincing at the deep velvet of his gaze on you, soft but inescapable.

You still feel the instinct to gag, but once your throat relaxes the rest of you follows, and you sigh as he withdraws a little, rubbing gentle circles against your tongue. Your inhibitions are quickly falling away as you become focused only on more, moaning as his fingers continue to move, the thumb of his hand that’s curled around your neck caressing the sensitive skin there.

A heady thrum of desire is growing, settling deep between your thighs as you watch him through heavy-lidded eyes as he alternates between slowly pumping and then pressing deep and holding there, pleased when your breathing evens out more quickly every time.

Watching his expression cloud over with lust it occurs that you’d never really thought about how much he liked this. How watching your lips, and feeling your warm, slick mouth around his fingers as they grow shiny with your spit has him barely hanging on.

“That’s my needy girl.”

Klaue’s words are a sigh, almost a release, the tension when you had first followed him ebbing from his body, smoothing the set of his shoulders as his fingers continue to move.

You shudder again, unable to hold back the keening sounds from escaping your throat, your center already soaked and aching and you don’t even have his cock in your mouth yet.

“What’s the matter, isn’t this enough?” His words are cut with a smug glint of gold, seeming to guess what you’re thinking about.

And honestly you would let him keep doing this if he wanted, turning you into a mindless mess with just his fingers and only your eyes able to plead wordlessly for more. But he said he was going to fuck your mouth, and the narrowing of your eyes answers his question.

His unoccupied hand releases your neck and takes one of your hands, returning it to the waist of his pants where you quickly work at his belt and zipper, determined though distracted by the continued slip and drag through your lips.

Eventually you manage to reach beneath the fabric to grip his hard length, your other hand tugging the layers down until you’re able to free his cock. The movement of his fingers falters at your touch but then he’s grinning when your moans become more plaintive, saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth as your hand hungrily strokes the intoxicating heat of him.

“Now, don’t swallow.” Klaue murmurs.

You have a split second to frown before he withdraws, realization dawning when you have to quickly close your mouth to keep from drooling.

Unable to reply, you wait a beat before your eyebrows raise in a question.

“On your knees.” His hand drops, slick fingers replacing yours where they’re wrapped around his length.

Your breath catches with anticipation, and unable and unwilling to hide how eager you are now you keep your eyes on his as you sink down slowly until the thick circle of his fist is directly in front of you, the slit already leaking as he strokes himself.

The sight of it has you aching, desperate for your lips to replace the languid slide of his fingers, to take him deep into your mouth then and nose into the dark, grey-flecked hair that spreads from the base of him.

“Now, spit on my cock, darling.”

Your reverie suddenly broken you look up to see him watching you intently, eyes dark and commanding, his hand now gripping the thick base, holding himself out to you.

Waiting.

Still unable to reply, all you can do - all you want to do - is acquiesce. So you lean forward and slowly let the saliva slide from your parted lips until it drops onto the head of his cock, his palm quickly gathering and dragging your offering down his length, groaning at the slide of it beneath his fingers.

Only when you hear the low timbre of his laugh do you realize that you’re practically pouting as your eyes eagerly follow the movement of his hand.

You lean forward again, glossy lips parting in anticipation, but his other hand quickly reaches to grasp your hair and stops you.

You’re agonizingly close, not caring how desperate you must look straining against his grip as your tongue flicks out, the sounds of skin on slick skin making you increasingly desperate to taste him as he holds you just out of reach of what you want.

“Look at you.” Klaue croons.“You’re always switched on. You’re strong and I can see how hard you work, and I want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

You flush at his praise, briefly distracted from your conquest.

“But when I use your mouth…then I get to watch you let go. I can tell that you don’t like to do it for yourself, so I’m going to do it for you. Going to empty that head of yours.”

His hips nudge toward you and this time when your lips drop open he lets you move to meet him.

He sucks a hiss through his teeth when you press a wet kiss against the thick head of his cock, chased by a relieved groan as you let your lips smear the glisten of precum that continues to leak there, fresh heat blooming between your legs at the sounds this draws from him.

You keep the muscles of your jaw relaxed and pliant as you press slowly forward. Not sucking yet, simply using the head of his cock to part your lips to slide over the already slick skin, slowly and thoroughly mapping the shape of him with your mouth.

And he's right, of course. You can feel yourself relaxing as you finally taste the musk of his heated skin, humming contentedly as your tongue swirls around the head and drags over the sensitive frenulum, the tension of the last few days finally draining away with every languorous slip of your mouth.

A different kind of tension quickly swelling deep in your core.

“Jesus.” Klaue sighs above you as you gradually take him deeper, one hand braced on his thigh while the other wraps around him, his cock achingly hard beneath your fingers.

Still loosely holding your hair he's letting you work him, your own pleased moans slipping from your throat as you lick hungrily over every ridge and vein, savouring the salty tang of his velvet-slick skin warm against your tongue

Pleasure thrums through your body, growing hotter with the attention you’re giving him, but as you take him deeper again, your lips stretching wider, realization flickers in the back of your mind that you haven’t even taken him halfway yet and you’re already growing overwhelmed by how full your mouth is.

But, god, the ragged sound he makes when you slide down until his cock nudges the back of your throat makes your cunt throb, so you pull back so that you’re holding just the tip of him between your lips and then you do it again, reveling in every inch that you can take.

Slowly you build a steady rhythm until saliva is dripping down your chin, he's continuing to let you control the pace for now, allowing you to breathe and adjust until he’s deeper than when he was on the couch.

Your hunger is growing, though, and soon you're pushing forward with more intention and when your throat spasms you swallow reflexively, your eyes watering when this draws him in further. Klaue’s moans deepen at the ripple of the muscles around his cock but you’re unable to fight it any longer and you gag, even as his drawn out “Fuck” has your hips rocking.

Squeezing your eyes shut you just barely manage to stay where you are, tears dampening your lashes until you finally have to pull back, although you keep him in your mouth, breathing hard through your nose to catch your breath.

“It’s alright,” he rasps. ”Don’t think you’re going to be able to take all of me right now, darling. But you’ll take as much as you can, and when you can swallow every inch of my cock then you’ll get to feel me come down your throat.”

You can’t help the muffled sound you make that’s equal parts arousal and disappointment.

“Don’t worry, I’m still going to make a pretty mess of your mouth," he teases, his heaving chest and half-lidded eyes betraying his own growing need.

Not that he isn’t doing a fair job of it already, of course, unable to properly swallow, your chin is quickly growing shiny with drool. The pressure of his other hand still cradling the back of your neck firm but soothing as he holds you in place, as the still restrained flex of his hips begins seeking the wet heat of your mouth again, and you sigh at the intoxicating weight of his cock dragging against your tongue.

As you relax your awareness drifts back down to the heat between your legs, the slick press of the seam of your pants against your sex barely relieving the ache there as you squeeze your thighs together.

After a few more slow thrusts he presses forward into the back of your throat again, and as he holds himself there you take a shaky breath and swallow once, and then again, taking more of him than you have so far.

“There you go, God-”

You try to hollow your cheeks to pull him in further but you gag again when he bucks suddenly, his words cut off with a growled curse.

“It’s alright,” Klaue soothes, pulling back to give you a moment to recover, though it was more startling than painful. “You’re doing so fucking well.”

Looking up at him you see that his eyes are screwed shut, head bowed and breathing hard, concentration etched clearly across his face. When he finally opens his them he can only groan at the sight of your tear-damp reverence, his attention is first drawn first to where he's disappearing into your mouth as he starts to move again, but it’s not long before they catch instead on the needy cant of your hips.

“You do love this, don’t you? Have you soaked through your panties already?”

You can only let out a whimpered moan as you attempt to nod.

He hasn’t let you take his cock out of your mouth yet and you can feel the drool that continues to spill from your lips beginning to collect and drip off of your chin, down onto your chest where it slicks the skin between your breasts.

There’s a flicker in the back of your mind, a needling thought that you should feel…ashamed. By the mess, and your neediness, by how much you fucking adore being on your knees for this man.

But that flicker is quickly snuffed out as Klaue continues to use your mouth, and as you take in the look of awe in his eyes, when you feel his thumb softly stroking over the curve of your cheekbone, you realize that you don’t feel below him.

That although you're on your knees, it feels like you’re the one being worshiped.

You want to focus on him and you try, really you do, but the heated ache in your cunt is becoming unbearable and you can't help shifting and squeezing your thighs together, made breathless by your need as much as by the fullness of him in your mouth.

He's has been watching - and clearly enjoying - this increasingly desperate movement of your hips, but finally he seems to take pity on you.

“Do you want to touch yourself, darling? Want to come while you drool all over my cock?”

Even through his tease you can feel how his own words affect him in the quickening buck of his hips.

“Go on then, feel how wet your pussy is just from this.”

The words are barely past his lips and you’re already moving, but just as you manage to work your hand beneath the waistband of your pants he speaks again.

“Slow.”

The word is quiet but firm, Klaue's tone softer than before yet shot through with an irresistible command and you pause, glancing back up.

His shoulders and neck are impossibly broad from this vantage, eyes bright but tinged with a smoky darkness that does away with your resistance, and you know with a thrilling certainty that as desperate as you are for relief, in this moment you’d do whatever he asked.

Keeping your eyes locked on his you begin to move again, dipping your hand down - slowly.

“That’s it. Slip your hand into your panties now. Just- just one finger, darling.” His voice is uneven and clipped like he's having to concentrate on forming the words. “Slide it along that pretty slit of yours. Barely need to press to feel it, don’t you? How wet you are.”

You can only whimper in response, the building ache between your thighs only made worse by how close you are to relief, by how you could increase the pressure just slightly and you’d be able to part yourself and find your desperate bundle of nerves.

“You have no idea how delicious that first taste of you is. So fucking sweet.”

There’s an edge to his words, as though he were jealous of your fingers, that they get to slide and tease between your legs and not his tongue.

There’s barely any friction beneath your index finger, but the soft glide combined with his grunted breaths above you has you clenching and it's near agony to keep your movements slow and controlled, fighting against every instinct in your body not to give in as your sex quivers, pleading for more.

So instead you pull your focus back to his cock and let your mouth move the way you wish your fingers could, quickly and hungrily sliding your lips along his shaft until with a sudden movement you take him into the back of your throat again and keep him there, your hand stroking the part of him you can't take.

“Christ,” he grits through his teeth, your scalp stinging from the quick jerk of his hand in your hair. “Not yet.”

You can't tell if this is directed at you or himself as he swallows and releases a shuddered breath, his voice strained when he speaks again.

“Slide two fingers over your clit for me, now.”

Relief ripples up your spine as you eagerly press through your drenched folds, fingers dragging against your swollen bud, unable to let out more than a choked sound as you push forward to keep his cock where it is in your throat, hot tears spilling over.

“Again.”

Your touch grows rougher, matching his words, feeling the inevitable swell of pleasure growing as you float there, caught in the riptide of his voice.

”Want to go faster, don’t you?” Klaue rasps. “Want to reach down to feel how soaked your needy hole is?”

You do, trembling fingers unable to help chasing the path of his words as if they were his tongue instead, sliding along your slick cleft and down to gather more of your arousal.

Pleasure strings tighter when your fingers slide back up and over your clit, cursing him internally as you gasp short breaths through your nose. You try to relax your throat even as every other muscle in your body draws tight, unsure how much longer you can keep yourself from falling over the edge.

You can’t really tell him, only your eyes can plead, I’m close, I’m so close it feels so good please let me come.

“So used to begging with that pretty mouth.” He taunts with a breathless growl, reading your desperation, his lips curled in a grin at your half-delirious expression.

“It's alright, I know how good it's making you feel to use your mouth like this instead. Just like I know you’re going to make yourself come now.”

You're so close to lost that it takes a second for you to process his command, but when you do something in you snaps.

Your fingers immediately find a tight rhythm as you chase the swollen edge of pleasure, his fist gripping your hair tight to hold you firmly in place as your movements begin to grow frantic, unable to control any part of you as the blinding heat of your climax finally shocks through you.

The muscles of your throat spasm as your cunt flutters around nothing, desperate sounds caught in your chest as your hips buck and writhe against your fingers. Your other hand is entirely lost to any sense of rhythm and it drops to grasp at the fabric covering his thigh in an attempt to find purchase, and then suddenly his hand not in your hair is there, strong fingers twining tightly with yours, holding on to you as you fall apart.

“That’s it,” Klaue pants, his voice thick with lust and awe. “Choke on my cock while you come.”

You want to curse and cry and plead as ecstasy works its way through you in eddies and purls, and it almost feels like you might be drowning but you’re powerless to want anything else but to drown in him, trembling with relief as your fingers roughly work every pulse of pleasure from your clit.

As the waves begin to soften your other senses gradually filter back in: the ache in your throat and your jaw, the sting in your knees where they press into the floor, and when your body slackens as you start to come down he allows you pull back enough to properly catch your breath.

Slowly you’re able to focus again, eyes damp and red rimmed as you look up at him, but you only have a brief moment to appreciate his pleased expression before his eyes go storm dark.

“Going to come in your mouth, now.”

Fingers tighten in your hair once more and then he’s moving. His thrusts are rough now with surrendered control as his hips chase a harsh rhythm, a low groan rolling through his chest that's woven together with your name as he finally gives in and takes what you'd promised.

You attempt to tighten your lips around him as his rasping curses continue above you, but it’s no use, all you can do is kneel and relent to the slide of his cock filling your mouth again and again.

You want to beg him, words that fall so easily from your lips now when you sense that he’s about to let go for you, but you can only whine for it, your plaintive noises slipping messily around his cock until the pattern of his thrusts falters. And then, finally, there's only bliss when you hear his choked gasp as he stiffens, and you feel the first warm spurts of his spend coating your tongue.

With a low, open-mouthed moan he continues to fuck into the wet suck of your mouth, spilling himself across your lips and chin as well as your tongue until pearly ropes of cum are mixing with your drool, the mess of it dripping in slick stands off of your chin.

Then suddenly Klaue pulls out completely for the first time since this started and at first you can only gasp and cough, but when his hand wraps around himself your mouth instinctively drops open. Resting the head of his cock against the offering of your tongue he slowly strokes though the last pulses of his orgasm, making sure to give you every last drop, dragging through the slick mess with slow, sated thrusts until his fist gradually stills.

Eventually he pulls back though not away, panting and heavy lidded as he looks down at you where you kneel, a shining strand strung between his tip and your swollen lips that glisten with the pearly sheen he’s painted them with.

“Now you can swallow, darling.”

You’re not sure if you should laugh or sob, but fighting both you make sure to keep your eyes on his as you curl your tongue back into your mouth and swallow, before dragging your fingers across your chin to gather the mess he left there, too.

A lazy smile curves his lips as he watches your mouth sliding around your fingers, and once you've cleaned as much as you can your hand drops, both of them resting on the tops of your thighs.

Gently, the backs of Klaue’s fingers brush at the streaks of tears that are beginning to dry on your cheeks, then one slowly hooks under your chin to tip your head up, not letting you hide, leaving you startled by the affection that vines its way through your ribcage, burrowing into the want that even now burns hot.

The want that folds into a desperation to please him, to give and take everything until the only thing left is your desire.

You wish that you could explain it to him, that you could say something coherent, but any words you try to form seem to dissipate before they can reach your mouth, and you’re unsure that you could even articulate your thoughts as you sit in the filmy haze of your afterglow.

So when you do open your mouth you're nearly as caught off guard by the words that come out as he is, your voice an almost unfamiliar, grateful rasp.

“Thank you.”

Klaue’s satisfied grin falls away, his lips parting with a groaned sigh and then he’s reaching down, a hand curling around your bicep to pull you up to standing. You waver against the stiffness in your legs but he supports you, his palm again finding its place against your cheek.

He pauses, really taking in the state of you: your dazed expression and cock-swollen lips, standing there bruised and mussed and shirtless and pleased, his large hand brushing across your chin to catch more of the sheen there, words seeming to hover on the tip of his tongue.

The line between his brows deepens with a purse of his lips, a barely perceptible shake of his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me, klein Mot.”

Then he's pulling you against him, his lips suddenly on yours and he's kissing you deeply, licking hungrily into your mouth and you swiftly grow breathless as he chases the taste of himself on your tongue. But just as you’re sinking into it, he pulls away.

“Come here.”

He turns with you, quickly crowding you back against his desk, hands reach down to wrap around your thighs and you quickly brace against the surface as he lifts you until you’re perched on the edge of it.

Your legs fall open easily as he moves forward, his focus coming to rest on you again as his hands slide up to circle your waist.

“You did so fucking well.” A smile tugs at his lips again as thumbs trail soft patterns against your bare skin. “Are you alright?”

Warmth blooms at his concern, an unexpected contrast with what had just transpired.

“Yes.” You’re still finding your voice, still feeling like you're catching your breath, but you’re good. More than.

“You're sure?”

Leaning forward you slide your arms around his broad waist, hitching your legs up as well, drawing him into you.

“Yes, I promise.” You assure, brushing the ghost of a smile against his lips. “And…I promise that I won’t lie to you if anything is too much.”

“Good.” Klaue pulls back to look at you, a pleased edge of gold glinting in the blue before a more serious expression settles into the creases around eyes. “Because I'm going to keep pushing you.”

You inhale sharply, a fresh throb of heat blooming in your still slick core as your legs tighten around his hips.

“I want you to, Ulysses,” you hum, slowly arching and rolling your center against him, feeling him still half hard where he'd tucked himself back into his pants.

“I know, my darling.” His words are knowing and smooth with the edges singed dark, hands roving slowly over the soft flesh of your waist as he continues matter-of-factly. “But right now, you’re going to have some water, and then I’m going to make you come again.”

“Yeah?” You say hopefully as you continue to move against him, chasing the heat he so easily stokes in you with just a few words.

A slow nod and a rumbled confirmation.

“I’m going to take care of you, now, Mot. I don’t need you to make any decisions today. Except for one.”

“Oh?”

“Not how many times you’re going to come, that's up to me. But you’re going to tell me how.”

“God, Ulysses.” You’re burning with arousal now, every inch of your skin prickling hot. “That's all?”

“Will it be my fingers?”

His hands brush further up your waist, thumbs teasing beneath the band of your bra to just brush against the sensitive curve of your breasts before trailing back down.

“Or my mouth?”

Leaning in his lips press against your neck, a silvered shimmer of nerves swirling out from the point where his tongue flicks out to taste your skin, your body swiftly surrendering to the heat of his promise.

“Or perhaps you’d like to straddle my thigh until you’ve made a lovely mess for me.”

A needy sound rends itself from your chest as his thumbs press into the sensitive creases where your hips meet your thighs, but just as you open your mouth to reply, a loud knock sounds on the door.

“Not right now.” Klaue calls out to whoever is in the hall without pulling away from you.

“Yes, now.”

“I’m not ask-”

“It’s a call you’ve been waiting for. There's a problem.”

Jaw clenching, he exhales a sharp breath.

“Just a minute,” he replies.

“You really need to-”

“Just a minute.” Klaue snaps, his head jerking towards the door and you jump, your legs tightening around him.

“Alright, alright.”

The man’s voice trails off and it sounds like he’s moved down the hallway, at least for now.

When he looks back at you you’re biting your lip, the look in his eye telling you he must have noticed your reaction to his tone.

“Think about what I asked.”

You're about to reply that you will, but something occurs to you about the suggestions he’d given you.

“Wait, is.. is your cock not an option?” You give him a coy look through your lashes, intending to tease but still a little nervous that maybe it won't be.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to fuck you, darling. If you’re good.”

A thumb grazes the corner of your mouth, distracting you momentarily from what that means as you unconsciously flick your tongue out to meet it, earning you a knowing grin when you quickly pull away with a sheepish laugh.

“So?” He says, waiting for your confirmation of his request.

“I will. I’ll…think about it.” You're nearly panting now as the rock of your hips grows needier, shocked at how quickly you can feel another orgasm building already, if you just had a few more minutes you could-

“That’s all you’ll be doing, though. Yeah?”

Strong hands tighten around your hips, pinning their faltering movement against him and you pull back with a frown.

“Are you saying…you want me to think about how I want to come, but I can’t- ”

“Smart girl, you did hear what I said.” His gaze sweeps over your face, and you barely manage not to scoff.

“Yes, I heard you. But I mean, I did already make myself come. I made that decision.”

Klaue tilts his head, mock curiosity knitting his brows.

“Did you?”

You open your mouth to argue but then close it again, pursing your lips together in a pout. He has a point, though: It may have been your fingers, but it was his words guiding you, and you only made yourself come when he told you that you would.

“I decide,” he repeats, and you bite back a whimper when he slowly grinds you against him again. “And I've decided you're going to wait.”

There’s another, more insistent knock at the door.

“Coming.” Suddenly letting go he steps back from you, not hiding his pleasure at your pained expression as he finds and hands you your shirt which you reluctantly put back on.

“I’ll walk you back to the main corridor.” He pauses with his hand on the doorknob and raises a brow, waiting for you to follow.

“Fine. I’ll think about it.” You finally say, pushing yourself off of the desk, not bothering to hide the frustration in your voice.

“I know you will, darling.” His certainty overlaps with a challenge as he opens the door.

Be good, and you can come on my cock.

You shudder when his hand quickly presses against your lower back as you move past him, even the brief pressure burns hot through the fabric of your shirt, and then the door clicks shut behind you.

So, you have to wait. Again. And though you’re getting good at it now, and even knowing that it won’t be long, you’re not sure how you’re going to make it, your nerves already on fire as you part and watch him walk away.

AN: As always thank you so much for reading! 🥰 The next chapter will not be nearly as long a wait since about 75% of it was already written before I decided to split this on up! Will it be soon soon? No, but it won't be quite as long as this break as this was! Though to be fair I did write two other fics (and a drabble), flew to London, and dealt with a personal loss, and then the recovery from of all the that plus y'know, life in general. But we're finally here, and I'm glad that I made it and can finally share this with you all!

Full disclosure I am not someone who works with propane, and while much of the information is based what I've been able to find online, the accident itself is based on the events of a real explosion at a propane plant that happened in Canada several years ago. So things are likely not necessarily going to be 100% correct, but there are real variables here that would explain something like this happening.

I also want to mention that there's a line in that that was actually the first (filthy) line of not just this chapter, but also of this entire part two. I was only around halfway through part one and was just realizing there would even be a part two (the line did end up changing a bit as the story evolved, but it's still in here. 😏). Also I wrote it, closed the doc, then opened Instagram and immediately saw that Andy was coming to to Toronto. And instantly panicked. So there's that. 😂

#salvation is a deep dark well #bringin' home the rain part two #ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue x f reader #ulysses klaue x reader #ulysses klaue smut #reader insert #x reader #mcu #mcu fanfiction

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magnusbae · 1 year

Note

tfw u have a Complicated™️ Relationship With An Otherworldly Creature

First of all, I would like to point out that I DID NOT REALIZE WE HAD THAT DISCUSSION ON APRIL FOOL'S DAY.

All I remember is being delirious from lack of sleep and you indulging me by listening to my ravings about a Venom AU for dreamling aND THEN MAKING AN ACTUAL MEME FOR IT!!!

While I don't remember much of what we said that morning, and this meme being perfect for Canon AU also, I will focus my efforts on elaborating on this Venom AU no one had asked for but everybody will be getting!

◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

"It's not human, but it's given me things no girlfriend ever could."

Hob Gadling is by no means a man who lacks options. He had fucked, and he had fucked a lot. He dated, he had even married once. He did all there is to be done, from casual to serious and yet... nothing comes close to this, to this bond he shares, to this otherworldly creature living within him, sustaining him, enveloping him, devouring him.

"Beloved," Hob says, feeling the instantaneous warming of his chest. Dream, (That is his name.) (Oh, what a lovely name it is.) often responds in such a manner to terms of endearment. He enjoys them more than he would ever care to admit. All the more incentive for Hob to use them as frequently as humanly possible. Which is to say, a lot.

The low frequency rumbling inside of his chest cavity lets him know that Dream is very much aware and chooses to remain silent on the matter. He is so sweet, actually the sweetest creature in the entirety of existence. It's hard to remember a time when he had thought otherwise, a time in which he was actually terrified of the creature that had decided to use his body as a free-ride.

Yes? Dream finally speaks, tired of waiting for Hob to verbalize his thoughts. His voice is a deep thunder inside of Hob's mind, closer to a loud thought than an actual audible sound. An intrusive thought he would never wish to get rid of. Hob. Strict, impatient, amused. He feels like Dream cannot decide if he's more irritated or amused by Hob's wandering thoughts. Speak.

Hob huffs out a laughter, shaking his head and opening his fist in an invitation. The empty spaces between his fingers are soon filled with claw-like ink black fingers. Dream's hand, firm and strong.

"I was just thinking," Hob closes his hand, squeezing Dream's hand in his, feeling the tightening of Dream's hand in turn. "how it's our anniversary tonight" he closes his eyes, thinking of a year ago, miserable and lost and terrified, with nothing in this world left, running into an alien that by all means was supposed to devour him long ago.

Expect for the miraculous part of them being so perfectly matched that Dream decided to preserve him instead. Tend his body, strengthen it, keep it safe. The only price being that he also gets to live in it. See humanity, learn of it, understand it. It's what he told him, however Hob suspects, knows really, that it was something far more personal.

Dream had filled spaces Hob didn't even know he had. Voids so small you don't know them but you ache them. And if Hob does even a fraction of what Dream does to him— well then, there's the reason.

Yes. Dream rambles, pleased. Anniversary, like marriage. the last word is purred so quietly it's almost like it's Hob's own thought.

"Hold your horses," Hob laughs again, cheeks warming up, he's smiling wide enough to ache "I expect to get properly proposed to, who do you think I am? I ain't cheap, you know" he feels a hand brushing his hip bone, an intimate, possessive gesture that sets a shiver down his groin.

Yes, of course. Dream's finger trace's down the 'V' lines, claw gentle but ever present. Not cheap. Proposal. Indeed. Dream is amused again, the cheeky creature is making fun of him, and that, is damn hot.

Whatever response Hob was about to give is swallowed down with a yelp when Dream takes him into his hand. Hob breathes out, mind blanking as the decidedly inhuman hand starts working on him.

Conversations about propriety can wait. After all, this is so much more interesting. Whatever else you can say about dating a formless alien who resides inside of your body, there's undeniable benefits to them literally sharing your own pleasure. Makes for a very good partner indeed.

◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

Written in one go without editing because if I allow myself even a single more hour of thinking how it needs to be PERFECT I will die LMAO.

Brief explanation of Venom for those who didn't watch it! >> under the cut.

Generally speaking, I would imagine that Dream's initial reason was to study, understand, experience a different existence than his own. He had no regard for human life (still doesn't, not in the way a human would) he was perfectly fine with riding human bodies and living their lives until they expired.

Expect Dream had found Hob, a perfect match, a human body that accepted every single cell of him with open arms, way before Hob even realized he loved Dream, his body had already accepted him.

This can have over-complicated plot, and it could be a simply fun-little au. It can have a "fish-bowl" rescue of reported Hob breaking into the Lab where Dream was being experimented on, and it could be Hob's homeless era when on top of everything else going wrong with his life, he also gotten jumped by an alien symbiote in an alley.

It can be anything you wish to imagine, but bottom line is— imagine the intimacy, the bond, the tenderness of sharing a body with a creature that envelopes you whole, who loves you whole, who cares and wants you whole. Body and Soul and Mind, literally, figuratively, everything.

A bond so close you feel like a single being, bond so close you feel you would die if separated. Hob didn't even know he needed it. Hob thought his life was complete, even if shitty at times, he didn't feel any lackings, and yet..... when Dream came into his life, he realized it was an empty shell compared to what it is.

And Dream, who had never felt a connection, only felt rejection after rejection, and then in the case of the lab-trab, the experiments and cruelty. Being loved and accepted and wanted so fully he betrays his entire species to be with Hob.

-----

Essentially, Venom is one specimen of a symbiotic life form that finds a host and bonds with it. It's not easy to find a proper host, if the host is not right, the symbiote would slowly devour the body and eventually kill the human. In the comics canon, a human named Eddie and Venom form a bond, eventually fall in love, and share a very intimate relationship. It's a VERY half-assed explanation, but basically, the symbiote literally lives inside of the human host, and it makes for some......fun dynamics. considering it's a literal alien.

#I will NOT be rereading it so unless I made some horrid mistake it IS WHAT IT IS #it's been in my inbox longer than it should have gavregbaet but i couldn't just 'post it' with a LOL and that's it! I haD TO ELABORARE.#thanks for the MEME it's pefECT !!!#dreamling #the sandman #dreamling venom au #I GUESs?#buns.w #buns.all #cuubism #msg

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jadewritesficshere · 7 months

Text

The boy is mine (Jade's edition)

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie has a plan for a romantic night, but things go awry (2k words)

Contents: Anxiety, Eddie is self deprecating, hurt/comfort (kinda), no gendered terms for reader except mention that their hand is smaller then Eddie's and reader is called beautiful, a literal fire (please look up fire safety), fluff

A/N: So I saw this the first day it was posted and I thought it was a fun idea and saved the prompt by @carolmunson. I've been writing this for a bit,, but like I have had such bad mental fog and generalized pain recently I have been having a hard time focusing...I think I kind of misinterpreted the rules a bit...so here is sad lump of a contribution. Call me Stitch the way I am telling myself "it may be little and broken but still good".

18+ only

The night had started well, at least Eddie thought it had. He promised you a romantic night in. He even prepped for it.

Eddie rented sappy love movies, getting advice by Harrington and Buckley surprisingly. Harrington stated flowers were the way to go, but then started arguing with Buckley. While entertaining, Eddie learned more about the languages of romance from Buckley then he did about romantic gifts. But he wrote down to get flowers.

So he watched the movies. And Eddie was high paid a lot of attention and basically learned to make a grand speech. Big pour out your heart moment. Which, he felt he always talked your ear off, so he could totally do.

Eddie then read those magazines all the cheerleaders gossiped and giggled over. He didn't learn much except some tips for the best kiss. Cup the person's cheek and lean in slowly. Build the suspense. Eddie could do that.

Give you flowers. Make a speech. Cup your cheek as he kisses you. Eddie had this in the bag! Each point written in his little notebook.

And then the reality of you coming to his trailer hit him when you called to confirm the date was still on that morning. He hung up the phone after flirting a bit and looked around his house. Nerves flooded his system as he looked at it with the perspective of an outsider. He didn't want it to look bad. And it was, well, it wasn't bad but definitely could be cleaner.

So Eddie had vacuumed and dusted the entire trailer. Tossed empty pizza boxes in the trash. Sprayed some cologne around the trailer to cover the scent of weed, then cursed himself for using the expensive cologne when there was a bottle of air freshener in the bathroom.

Had picked up his clothes scattered across his room and shoved them all, clean and dirty, into the closet. Had made sure his bed had more then one pillow, grabbing spare throw pillows and tossing them towards the headboard. Even if he didn't think there was a chance you would enter his bedroom tonight, he wanted to be prepared.

Eddie had even started dinner before you arrived. An easy roast that Wayne had made hundreds of times. Thrown meat, potatoes, onions, and carrots into the pot, seasoned it and thrown it all in the oven.

It was newer, this thing between you, and he wanted to get it all right. You'd been friends for years, just recently evolved into dating. It was easy to hold your hand and throw an arm around your shoulder before, stealing those small intimate moments and pretending it meant something more. But now it does mean more. Truly, it always had, but neither of you had said anything. Because like usual, Eddie was the coward and ran.

He spent what felt like minutes (it had been hours) looking back at the notes, the plan. He had even sketched some pictures of you and him as he studied. Gave himself some sweet new tattoos and piercings and muscles while you had hearts around your head. By the time he stopped rereading the same points over and over again, he realized you would be there within the hour.

And he already failed the first point, flowers. It had completely spaced him what with the studying, but he had other things he had been wanting to give you so he figured he could wing it. He rehearsed everything in his mind, having various conversations with you. He would take your coat, be charming as ever, and you would fall for him even more then you already had.

But the plan immediately left his mind when you had arrived. Eddie could feel his face flush as his eyes trailed up and down your figure. All the rushing thoughts in his head suddenly stopped. All he could think was Damn, how'd I get so lucky?

"You're beautiful." Eddie mumbled in awe as you had shrugged off your coat. And then you smiled and Eddie realized he had messed up the plan. He thought he had went through every variable but he hadn't. It wasn't you that was going to fall more in love with him tonight, but Eddie was going to fall more in love with you.

Eddie twirled a piece of hair around his finger, unable to meet your eyes. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and his palms were begin to sweat. He couldn't help but shift from foot to foot. "Oh I uh....got you something," Eddie smiled and turned to leave before hesitating and motioning to the couch," You can uh sit...or stand, standing is good too! I'll be right back."

Eddie cursed himself the whole time he walked away because of how stupid he was. He could stage elaborate campaigns but couldn't seem to form a single sentence in your presence. Eddie grabbed the gift off his dresser and inhaled slowly, mentally yelling at himself to be cool for once in his life.

And faltered in his steps.

Because you were sat on the couch. Not just on the edge of the cushion like those who he dealt to who couldn't wait to get out of his presence. No, you were fully relaxed into the cushion. You looked comfortable. You looked like you belonged.

And Eddie couldn't squash the butterflies that took flight in his stomach. And he sat on the cushion next to you, fighting the urge to wrap you in his arms and hold you close.

"I got you this," Eddie declared as he handed you a rock. A small, smooth stone that fit in the palm of your hand. Your mouth parted but no words came out. Eddie bit his lip as you slowly turned the stone over in your hands, staring at it.

"I saw it and I thought, well, I thought of you and it matches your eyes and-" Eddie huffed out a laugh and shook his head," Sorry, it's stupid just give it back."

Eddie moved to grab it out of your hand but you slapped at his arm and clenched the stone in your hand. "No, it's mine!" You held your hand to your chest and glared at him. "It's stupid," Eddie looked down. "It is not." "It is!"

"Are you serious? If you don't stop we're gonna have a problem. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me." You beamed at him. Joy and adoration written clearly across your face. Eddie slowly grinned back as you dared to open your palm and look at the stone again. "My precious," you wiggled your eyebrows at him, making him bark out a laugh as he relaxed.

"Let's save a ring for a later date." He joked, even as his mind raced. You quoted Lord of the Rings! You were sitting on his couch holding a rock he thought was the same shade as your eyes and you liked it!! He was done for. Completely head over heels fallen for you. Said he would never marry yet here he was planning his vows and everything.

"Seriously, Eddie, this is so sweet." Your hand grasped his. Your hand was smaller then his, fitting perfectly. Fingers interlocked hesitantly and then more surely. Eddie's eyes fell to your lips. Your tongue darted out slightly and wet them. And he started to lean in.

The air was thick, and not just with the tension, the anticipation. Your lips were milliseconds to coming in contact with his when Eddie's nose twitched as he caught a familiar scent. Your lips landed on Eddie's cheek as he turned so quickly to face the kitchen he gave himself whiplash.

Thick smoke started to waft out of the room. "Oh fuck!" He jumped up as the smoke detector finally started doing its job and screeched out an annoying beep. Eddie ran into the kitchen with you hot on his heels.

Eddie opened the oven door, smoke billowing out," SHITshitshit-" Eddie cursed as he slammed the door shut, coughing slightly. Your hand reached past him to shut off the oven before darting over to the window and throwing it open.

Eddie's eyes darted to the sink below the window. Stop, drop, and roll- wait no that was if you were on fire. But water beats fire in almost every scenario, right? Except oil, shit did he add oil? No, he didn't add anything except the food and the seasoning so it should all be good right?

"Stand back!" Eddie yells over the screeching alarm. Grabbing the pot holders, he throws the oven door open. Smoke billows past him as he makes a mad dash for the pot, grasping the handles and throwing it in the sink. He throws the faucet on, water pouring over the burnt food and pot.

Steam billows up with smoke, mingling in the air before flowing out the window. A hissing sound from the cool water hitting the hot pot fills the air. You fan the flames towards the open window. "Oh fuck." You cough as your eyes fill with tears from the smoke. Eddie winces as flurried apologies fall from his lips.

The pot, not on fire at least, starts to lessen up on producing smoke. Eddie deems it safe to leave and grabs your hand, dragging you outside. His hands on your shoulders guide you to sit on the steps as you continue to intermittently cough. Eddie rushes back into the kitchen, double checking that the oven was off, and quickly grabs a mug holding it under the still running faucet.

Eddie rushes back outside to you, almost missing the step and face planting. And wouldn't that have been the icing on the cake. Would that make Eddie or the embarrassment of faceplanting be the vanilla frosting? Who even created that saying? Cake was good and this was not good. Eddie shook his head of these thoughts as he sank down on the step next to you.

Eddie hands you the mug of water. You drink it in big gulps, a small dribble of water falling out of the side of your mouth towards your chin. Eddie wipes it away with his thumb as he apologizes," I am so sorry, I don't even know what happened."

"Is this Garfield?" You peer at the mug, as if Eddie almost didn't kill you. "Uh yeah, was in a rush, sorry I didn't grab like a nicer cup. I just ran out...to you..." "Don't apologize, I like Garfield," you mumble taking another drink of the water.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks, hands running up and down your shoulders, eyes checking you over. "Think I hacked up a lung from all the smoke...," you rub your sternum," Man, my lungs do not like smoke...and you like that?" Eddie let out a nervous laugh," Yeah no sorry, only when its weed. Never really inhaled a straight fire before."

You look up into Eddie's eyes that are full of concern. "Well, I'd recommend like not doing that. But I'm okay, it startled me more then anything," You give a soft smile. "You sure?" "Positive." You knock his shoulder with yours.

Eddie's eyes search your figure, ensuring you aren't lying to him. You ignore him, opting to set the mug down on the ground. Fingers brushing against a dandelion, yellow and bright. You pluck it from the ground and twirl it between your fingers.

You're okay. You're holding a dandelion and you're okay. You aren't acting like you hate him. You aren't making excuses and leaving. You aren't leaving like everyone else-

Eddie's shoulders relax as the tension leaves his body. You're okay. Your relationship is okay. He didn't ruin everything. You're smiling at a fucking dandelion while his heart feels like it has run a marathon.

You're oblivious to his plight as you lean over and tuck the dandelion behind his ear," Maybe don't smoke that. Looks pretty on you." "Not that kind of weed." "Yeah dumb joke sorry."

A slow exhale escapes him as he shakes his head,"No it's good I'm just," Eddie waves his hand in front of him," like what the fuck just happened? I am never cooking again. I'll just take you to Enzo's. I fucked up. Sorry for ruining the date."

Your hand cupped his cheek as you ducked down to meet his eyes," Hey, no. You didn't ruin the date." Eddie rolls his eyes slightly," Almost killing you? Yeah, pretty sure i ruined it." You bump your knee against Eddie's, "it's not ruined and you didn't almost kill me. Small food fire, happens to everyone. I lit popcorn on fire once. Besides, if you did happen to kill me, at least I would have died happy and in love. And you'd be stuck with me cause ghost me is absolutely haunting you."

Eddie can't help but laugh slightly," Oh? You think you'd be a ghost and not get another chance at life? Be reincarnated or whatever?" "Well, even if I was reincarnated, I'd find you again."

Eddie scoffs, "C'mon, don't say that.. That's not even true, you'd totally be able to move on. You wouldn't need little old me." You grab his face and peer into his eyes," Eddie Munson, I will always need you. In this life and whatever happens after. You and me? We're it. Maybe it should be too soon to say, but I feel it in my bones. You're it for me Eddie. Together now, forever, and when everything ceases to exist we'll be in nothing together. I will always be with you because I will always love you."

You lean in and Eddie thinks his heart stops. Your hand holding his cheek in place, thumb lightly brushing back and forth. His eyes flutter shut as your lips finally touch his. It was soft and sweet, lips slowly parting and melding together in a dance that sent shivers down Eddie's spine. He sighed into the kiss as you leaned closer into each other. Your hands threading through his hair, his wrapping around your waist. Lips moving in tandem, tongues darting out tentatively.

You only part when you both are gasping for air. Soft smiles and longing glances shared as the sun sets. "I love you too." Eddie traces your cheekbone with his finger. "You better." You joke. Your combined giggles fill the air as you continue to steal kisses from each other.

The night may not have been the most romantic. Or gone to plan, like, at all. But it was one Eddie already knew that when he thought about he would be able to feel his heart swell with love. And as he kissed you Eddie thought, yeah you were it for him.

#Was gonna change my user from Jade but I have nothing that feel more like me (was going to be Jade for literal years and now it doesn't fit)#Maybe thats just the mental fog making everything not normal for me tho #Have yall burned anything before?? I remember so many times my family has...or maybe they just can't cook #Cheese fell off a pizza once and caught fire on the bottom of the oven...microwaveable popcorn when someone hit 5 minutes instead of 2 #None of them were fire fires but small things burning with lots of smoke #Be safe yall please learn fire safety and what to do or not do with kitchen fires #Anyways I love you all and I am going to go read everyone else's submissions okay byeeeeee #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson x y/n #eddie munson/you #eddie munson/reader #Jade is Talking #Also yes you did everything Eddie planned to do...so it did happen according to plan just not Eddie doing it #ALSO ALSO I have found a rock in every shade okay green grey blue brown white black etc #So it is possible to find a rock in every shade okay pls dont be like green is not a rock IT IS or maybe I'm colorblind #I'm not I've passed colorblind studies (for work) many times

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ftmtftm · 1 year

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I'm having a lot of feelings tonight about the ways in which I was very explicitly raised in (radfem-y) feminist spaces and told "you can be whatever you want to be"... until I was a man. Until I saw beauty in masculinity. Until I thought being hairy and sweaty and having a low voice was something wonderful and desirable not just in a partner but in myself. Until I changed my pronouns and became a gender traitor despite nothing else about who I am as a person changing.

There's a weird kind of hurt growing up in a "progressive" home where it feels like your mother is gunning for you to be a lesbian like your butch cousin before you came out as a gender traitor but the second your sister comes out and says she's a dyke there's a problem because having two queer children can't be possible.

There's an awful kind of hurt continuing to pursue activism because I grew up on protest music I don't think my parents ever actually internalized. I think it's an autism thing for myself, really. Because it's something that feels hypocritical to me in a way I feel boils down to the way I conceptualize justice and morality, which I view very autistically. It lead me to wanting to pursue academic studies in sociology, to learn how systems of oppression work, to learn the language used to help people describe their experiences in the world and in turn learn about them. And then? I was shoved out. Because a gender traitor can't understand and if "he" does then she's really just doing this all for attention and she should really just admit she's actually still a young woman. She's just one of the girls and she should accept that. If "he" wants to be a "real man" why does "he" care so much? That's so... predatory. That's so unsafe to be around.

It's just. Sad. And I'm sad. My body didn't go away when I came out. My history didn't go away when I came out. I know that some people experience gender in a very separated way but fuck. I was a girl, and I was a man, and now they live together inside of me and I am both my past and my present. I know how I am most comfortable but my bones hold years of mistreatment based on the ways others forcibly gendered me on the basis of my physical sex. I am not cis passing in any capacity and I hold the ways I am still harmed by the forcible gendering of my body close to my chest. And I don't expect everyone else to feel that way about their own identity, that's just how I feel about my own sense of self. And I know some other people do feel similarly. And I just. Want To Have The Words For It.

I just want to have language that's been denied to me and others like myself. That's why I care about the term transandrophobia. Only those who seek to harm marginalized groups benefit from those groups not being able to speak for themselves by having a lack of language for their experiences.

#transandrophobia #original post #this is really rambly and personal please don't take it the same way as my more serious discourse posts #i'm just feeling very sad and lamenting the ways in which i feel i am a part of the world tonight

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mpsansy · 1 month

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The Art Of Scaring

A journal entry of the eternal youth living within the walls of Whipstaff Manor.

I don’t usually write in journals like this. Not that I’m afraid of my uncles getting into it, though they probably would if given the chance. And I suppose I would too. Cause what else is there to do when the house you occupy is filled with a treasure trove of books that have all been read by the residents?

I’m getting off track here.

Tonight, as opposed to having a single moment of true peace. I was dragged into learning how to make some people skin crawl. Scaring.

Ugh...

Honestly, I can’t seem to find the appeal. Not exactly anyways. I’d rather just be left alone to my own devices. And yet when I told that to them, my uncles were quick to say that fleshies could ruin that for me. And to keep that “solitude” that I like so much, I MUST know how to scare. I’d like to say they’re wrong. Absolutely wrong and stupid for thinking that way.

Unfortunately, they’re not wrong.

It alway seems like annoying people come our way and genuinely disrupt the serenity I have made for my family and I.

...

Maybe I am growing up, because I used to be so excited meeting new people. Being unapologetically friendly upon first approach. Now it’s turned to mild annoyance when I’m trying to read, draw, or listen to music. Not to mention that I feel my form changing. Not by much, but enough to notice. It's weird. Can ghosts like me really change in such a way?

Off that. The Art Of Scaring.

That’s a term my uncles like to call it. For this particular session of scaring, we took a different approach to things. An idea that I thought they wouldn’t put into practice cause I mostly said it as a sarcastic remark. But it’s all about vocals here. Not the scraggly stuffy vocals.

The kind of vocals we are doing here makes you feel like there’s an actual person in the same space with you, despite nobody being visible.

I’ll admit, this one is a little fun. Reason being is that for someone like my uncle Fatso, the voice from him can reverberate and seem even louder than it is. And I happen to mimic his tactics. If it isn’t broken, why fix it. Or upgrade it for that matter.

I don’t know why, but scaring with him is a little bit manageable. That may have something to do with him giving me more range to work with and explore different creative scenes. My other uncles are a bit…

Lacking in that regard. Using the same methods over and over again. So as far as I’m concerned, it’s usually me or him making up these elaborate scares possible and entertaining.

Don't get the wrong idea, I don't relish in the scaring. If anything, I am far more tamer in my methods as opposed to my uncles. They can be quite extreme. Deadly even. Luckily here, nothing bad happened.

In all, I actually managed to get some stuff out of it. I even scared a teen that had a music player he just abandoned. Sucks for him, but great for me because a lot of music was on it. Most of the intense rock and metal genre.

I'm cool with that. Gets my soul feeling all fuzzy. Other than that, I guess I got nothing much to add. Don't know when I'll write in this again, but hopefully I will get to to preserve all the new memories I'm making!

#my art #fan fic writing #fanfic #fan fiction #casper the friendly ghost #casper mcfadden #the ghostly trio #stretch mcfadden #stinkie mcfadden #fatso mcfadden #idk i just wanted to write smth

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chaifootsteps · 10 months

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So anyway. I'm enraged <3 everything about the music video makes me mad <3 I figured at LEAST if nothing else it was nice that Paranoid DJ got some more recognition. Honestly, amazing for him! He's a stand up chap and he deserves every good thing that's ever come his way. Like Micheal, Ashley and other unsung heros he did SO MUCH for hazbin/helluva and making us fall in love with the characters. BUT. THEY. BARELY. CREDITED HIM. And I am mad. I'm even more mad she did nothing in the video captions other than stick a middle finger up to her haters and the drama of the week. That is not the spirit of indie I fell in love with where she used to thank all her viewers and supporters, staff and collaborators. So instead I decided to look for something happy! SPINDLE'S PRECARIOUS FINANCES: https://graphtreon.com/creator/VivienneMedrano Notice on the graph the steady drop in subscribers Viv has gotten on her patreon since this time last year, 2022. (5.1k to 3.5k) If I'm being generous and looking at her peak a few days ago, (because everyone drops their sub and resubscribes at the end of each the month) she makes about 5.7k a month which adds up to 68.4k a year. Which could sound like an okay salary for ONE person but her patreon says she employs "100+ artists and crew members". that is 100+ people she is paying. I spent forever learning about youtube pay rates tonight. RPM is the term used for the amount a youtuber makes per 1000 ad views and it varies SO MUCH its hard to say what Viv's RPM is. BUT!!! The average rpm for a youtuber is $18. However many many forums have discussed that the category of a video greatly changes its rpm. For example, finance and tech videos have a top rpm due to their demographic (more affluent viewers that advertisers want to target) the younger/poorer the video's audience demographic is, the lower the rpm. Gamers are considered among the lower paid but EVEN LOWER THAN THAT are animators. They make PENNIES. (which is kind of sad because they have the highest effort videos and can't mass produce) I've seen animators say they get about 40 to 60 cents per 1000 views. I have no idea what vivziepop makes from youtube but I think it could be $600-18,000 as an absolute ceiling per 1 mil views.

Again, she has an entire studio to pay. Therefore, MOST of spindles money comes from merch and when you factor in the EXTREME oversaturation of merch with the declining viewers, toxic fandom and obvious loss of interest from die hards (based on her patreon) her merch sales are PLUMMETING. Her vacation money right now is probably from her Hazbin contract. Apparently for first time show runners, they make about $30,000 per episode. That's $240,000 she made for season 1 and will make maybe that much or more for season two. It's a good amount of money!! But with her spending rates, the mortgage on her home (that can't be paid off if she was begging for money to pay her dentist in 2019 and hadn't bought the house yet), her lifestyle and studio are NOT sustainable unless hazbin/helluva is her just her foothold in the industry and not the apex of her career.

While she's living the high life like she's 'made it' her whole career is in a very precarious place and what matters the most right now is her online conduct and the quality of her products to determine if she will find work in the future. Of course on the most pessimistic front, she could probably pull it together and do what she does best and leech off other peoples talents for the rest of her career. (eg stepping back, becoming the ceo of spindle and bringing in a network of indie shows by talented new creators that she can slap her name on as a producer and get half the credit)

Anon, there's not a lot of things I enjoy more than good, hard number crunching at Viv's expense. This is sublime.

Hope you're enjoying that Japan-spanning trip full of tea shops and abused animal petting, Viv, because it was probably the worst thing you could have done for yourself at a time like now.

#Anonymous #vivziepop critical #actual blog post

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many-but-one · 6 months

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This is a poem written by Dorian nearly couple years ago now. He never ended up posting it because he intended to post the audio with it but we never finished captioning the audio. Going through our drafts, we found it. Since we’re on a poetry sharing kick tonight, I’ll post it now. This poem should probably be updated eventually since Dori knows more now, but we will keep it as-is for now.

Written by Dori:

I want to note that this poem is HEAVILY inspired by a slam poem by Patrick Roche. He came up with the idea of moving backwards in the timeline, which I felt was just...genius. Especially in the realm of DID, where if you know at the first age you have DID, you know it will only get progressively worse. And in my case, things do get worse, but then you get to see the real things that were believed back then. I discussed this poem with several parts in our system, not only asking for their help, but also asking if it was okay for me to share.

Lastly, here are the trigger warnings. This poem is HEAVY. It is graphic, it alludes and blatantly states some very disturbing things. I am tired of being silent.

TW: Alcohol, CSA, adulthood/teen SA, intense religious imagery, blasphemy, unalive attempt, drugs/pills, medical/hospital/doctors, self harm, domestic violence, parents, violence in general, car crashes, AFAB menstruation, neglect, death of a family member, a lot of cursing, BIG mentions of grooming from the POV of the child, brief mentions of abortions.

Haha. The gods really put every single TW they could think of in my life huh. Realizing that my entire life is essentially a trigger warning is 😅 Oof.

Anyway, here is the poem. Read with caution.

24 years and counting.

24, going on 25. I wake up each morning not knowing who I am and this is normal now. I have realized that this will be my normal forever, or at least until I process the layers upon layers of trauma, hidden underneath layers and layers of amnesia that I slowly peel back like onion skins, each layer getting more and more terrifying, more and more worrisome. The deeper I dig into this hole of unknown the harder my heart beats, and I realize my heart beats like a war drum. I have always been at war, with myself, with this body of mine. Of ours.

Mid 24, I come to terms with a diagnosis called DID. I start to learn more about the different versions of myself, where they all intersect, where it melds together and where it stands apart. I think I know everything but 24 going on 25 version of me laughs at how naive I am. Perhaps 25 year old me will laugh at 24 going on 25 me. Maybe I’ll realize the depths of the hell I crawled out of called childhood was worse than I know even now. I don’t look forward to it.

Early 24, I got married this year, my wife married three of me, three of me love her dearly. Things feel right and good again, I feel like I am on a happy path. My brain makes about as much sense at it always has, but at least I somewhat understand the pieces of the puzzle I’ve been given. Or at least, so I thought.

23, this year is a blur, the only thing that stands out is that I quit my job I’ve had for five years. I loved that job. I quit that job because one of my past abusers walked in with no warning, and the sirens in my head went off like there was a nuclear bomb incoming. I still tell myself he didn’t see me but I know I’m lying to myself. I quit that very day and I realized that he still has control over me to this very day, 17 years after the trauma ended.

22, Two months before I am set to graduate college with my degree I get the diagnosis that changes my life. Not that my life is any different afterwards, at least not yet, so I try to continue forward regardless. How badly I wish to return to this moment and take my own face in my hands and look myself deep in the eyes and tell the 22 year old me that they have a storm coming. I think I already know, despite not really knowing, because I find myself getting drunk after work almost every night. I hide the bottles from my fiancée. I don’t want her to think I am my father.

21, I am old enough to drink! I barely drink. Every time I drink and it tastes too much like alcohol I am reminded of my father’s breath. I...don't know why. I stick to fruity drinks that taste good so that I can stop feeling things. Maybe I really am my father’s daughter.

20, I finally start making friends in college, which is strange. Some people talk to me and I’ve never met them before, but they act like we’ve been friends since forever. Sometimes I attend lectures and I don’t remember what they are about. Sometimes I ask questions and I can hear my voice speaking and feel my mouth moving and I don’t know what I am saying. This is normal. The competent version of me sometimes does stuff when I get overwhelmed, that’s normal. That’s always happened! Everyone does that, right?

19, I wake up on the floor of my mother’s bathroom one afternoon, I smell my own stench I have been rotting in, I peek my eyes open and see pill bottles all around me, but no pills to be seen. The burn of bile on my throat and in my mouth makes me gag. I look in the toilet and see the pills. I won’t remember this moment until I am 24. I will learn it was not me that tried to kill themselves. I will also learn it was not me that saved me.

18, I have my first of many mental hospital stays. The doctors watch me stare at the other kids in the ward, nearly catatonic. They said they’d never seen a patient that never smiled. “Most kids get out of here within a couple of days!” They assured my mother and I. Two weeks later and I am still rotting on the plastic bedsheets. I lie and tell them I’m okay but I am not okay, I just want to live a life that involves shoelaces and doesn’t have nurses yelling at me to brush my teeth. I go back to school like nothing happened and almost all of my friends are gone. They never really cared.

18, pre-mental hospital, I am dating a boy that I don’t love. I am dating him because that’s what girls do even though I am not a girl. He is my best friend and it just seemed right. I really only dated him because sometimes I felt like I really loved him, but most of the time his lips on mine and his hands on my waist felt wrong. Something in my head feels like it’s buzzing like a beehive every time I go to his apartment. It’s almost like a spidey sense, except I ignore it and when I find myself back home, I don’t remember anything that happened at his house, nor how I ended up back home. I don’t think about it too hard.

17, My dad punched a wall again. He screamed until I cried again. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t do this anymore. I hurt myself with sharp objects because it feels like that’s what I’m supposed to do. I never feel the pain, I only ever clean up the mess. I try to make myself as ugly as possible. To me(?) it makes sense. Obviously, if I am hideous, people will leave me alone. They won’t hurt me anymore, right? ...right?

17, suddenly an angry version of myself appears and I realize I am SICK and TIRED of mistreatment. I fight back, I fight back with teeth and claws and words that are even sharper than both of those combined. I don’t remember these times very well. I certainly don’t remember the time this angry version of me YANKED the largest knife out of the butcher block and threatened the very man who ruined my life with it. I LOVE this version of myself. She’s intensity, with veins full of gasoline, ready and waiting for someone to ignite her. She bares her teeth in a grin and laughs, she says “I dare you, set me aflame, I will burn you with me.” Thanks, Alice.

16, I nearly crash my car while I’m zoned out. Haha! I always zone out. Sometimes I zone out so hard that I forget big chunks of time, but everyone does that!

15, my friend shows me his self harm scars and is trying to gain sympathy but I have none to give. I wonder if maybe doing the same will help me learn to have sympathy. Thus starts an addiction to pain that lasts for nearly a decade.

14, I don’t remember this year very well but someone does.

13, I started my period and I was told that I’m just a late bloomer. Everyone always said I was a late bloomer since forever. I didn’t hit my growth spurt until I was 14 either, and I didn’t stop wetting the bed until I was 9. Weird, but I didn’t put that much thought into it.

12, I wrote a detailed story that I no longer have a single copy of that talks about the structure of my inner world. Traces of the DID that I can actually remember. I don’t remember most of this year because I wasn’t the one who lived it.

11, My dad is neglecting me to party with his girlfriend. The one who lives some of next year lives this year too. Too much going on for fragile little me, someone stronger has to deal with this mess. She does.

10, My brother died this year and this is the exact moment I stopped caring about God. Everything he ever gave to me he took away. I won’t understand the heaviness of such a statement for another decade and a half. This is when my depression started and when I lost my faith in humanity. I thought I gained it back for a while but I never did. I also stopped crying. Nobody heard me anyway. Someone in my head did it for me.

9, I don’t remember this year and I don’t want to.

8, I don’t remember this year and I don’t want to.

7, I am remembering this year and I don’t want to.

7, I am remembering this year and it is the year that I well and truly shattered, the year I learned of the depravity of men, the year I learned that I was just holes to fuck, an actress in a sick film, a faerie, a demon, a screaming little cunt, and that’s all I would ever be seen as. This is the year I learned why I liked demons more than angels, and why God was my enemy. This is the year I realized for real that I was alone in this cruel fucking world and no amount of crying or talking or begging will ever make them hear me. They smile and laugh. They smile and laugh. They smile and laugh. :)

6, late stages, My Sunday school teacher is so nice to me! He has a fun secret that only him and I share! I love him, he takes good care of me. He makes me feel good and special inside. I think deep down…I know it’s not okay. But I can’t help it. Actually, I am really scared because I see the way he looks at me and I feel queasy. I know this is wrong but I am scared he’ll hurt me if I say no. He said that God will tell him if I tell anyone what he does, and if God knows I am bad then I will go to hell. I don’t want to go to hell!! I’ll do whatever you say! I promise. I’m a good little girl. I’m an angel!

6, early stages, my mommy and daddy broke up. They are fighting in court for me, and I don’t really know what that means. Mommy said the church is helping dad pay for good lawyers so she probably won’t get custody of me. I don’t know what that means. Mommy says daddy is bad and evil. Daddy says mommy is bad and evil. I don’t know who is telling the truth. Or maybe they both are. Or maybe I am the bad and evil one?

5, My dad visits me every night and calls me his little angel. :) I am his sweet angel! His breath smells funny though. And his fingers hurt me a lot, and I don’t like the way he tastes. But he said since I am a good angel it’s okay, so he must be right.

4, Daddy and mommy fight a lot, my daddy has bottles in his hands a lot. He breaks them a lot. He hits mommy a lot. I am scared so I go hide. I am a being of terror.

3, I am a toddler but there’s a version of me that remembers that he started existing at this age. He did everything he could to protect me. Even though he didn’t really know why. Thank you, Deimos.

0. I am just a twinkle in my mother’s eye, she’s just a teen and she’s scared out of her mind. This baby is saving her life, though. She didn’t want to keep going but now she has to. If only she knew that 25 years from now this baby would be a shattered and broken mess of themself, because of things desperately out of their control. They were just a baby. You failed them. They all failed them. They all failed US. Too bad you were a Christian. Maybe instead we could have been aborted. Or, rather, maybe we wouldn’t have step foot in that fucking church in the first place.

#my poetry

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