#i meant to do this last week but got distracted

[starlightazriel]

bee 11

desc: modern bestfriends > lovers (femreader) (tattoo artist az)

warnings: 18+, drug/alcohol addiction/recovery, reader overthinking/insecure/depressed, jealousy, archeron sisters have entered the chat, angst, fluff, co-dependence(and all the trauma that comes with it),

wc: 4.2k

a/n: wow i'm so sorry this took so long as some of you know i been going through some things anyyyway we've come so far since the beginning myyy goodness, as much as I love sober az I already miss the az who was doing a line before a tattoo, but alas after all the drama last time I hope this makes up for it <3 kisses xoxox

other parts on my az masterlist

eleven

Sixty days.

Sixty days of loneliness.

Sixty days of an empty house.

Sixty days of overthinking.

Sixty days of gut wrenching anxiety.

Sixty days of no contact.

Sixty days of not hearing his voice.

It had been my idea, the whole no contact, and now, it felt like it had been the worst fucking idea in the world. Facing him now seemed impossible. Would he look different? Would he be different?

Fucking idiot. Do you know how much can change in sixty days? Sober Ariel won't even want you.

It had been maybe a week in when the seed of doubt had blossomed in my gut. The regret for the dumb idea that space was the best thing for our relationships, time to figure ourselves out so we could add to each others lives— instead of depending on each other. Him, needing me, me needing to be needed.

It was such a fine line between give and take and I had offered every last piece of myself to him without a hesitation. With him gone, with him healing, getting better... What would he need me for? What was I supposed to do with myself? School was hardly distracting, and finals coming up should have helped but only made it worse.

Rhys and Cass had visited him, a few times, they had also gone on another Vegas trip, without him obviously, apartment hunting. That did nothing to soothe my gut either, that was real. It was happening in mere months they were moving to Vegas. Neither did the way they all stopped talking about him when I was around, did he tell them something? Did he tell them he was going to break it off with me for good when he got home? Or did my friends really think I was that fragile? That I couldn't even handle hearing about him?

'I would let Rhys sue me for breaking contract before I would leave this city without you.' his previous words echoed in my mind, I had been so sure he meant it when he'd said that to me, so sure that I would never be alone again.

And of course I wanted him to get clean, but somehow, everything felt different now. I wasn't so sure of anything anymore. Would he still feel the same way?

I hadn't even looked into transferring schools. He had told me to, before he left... But doing that made everything more real, and what if he changed his mind when he saw me again?

He wouldn't be in a drug clouded haze anymore. He wouldn't need me anymore, not the way that I needed him.

And I wouldn't even get any alone time with him, not immediately. Rhys was throwing a little get together for him, he was so proud, they were all so proud of him.

I hated that I wasnt as proud as everyone else when I should be the most proud, I hated that I was afraid of the new Azriel. There would be nothing for me to fix anymore.

With every waking moment that passed my anxiety and insecurity grew. Getting ready for his 'sober party' seemed surreal to me, it only created more doubts in my mind. I mean, had Azriel, my Az, really agreed to that? Even as a sober version of himself— it seemed doubtful.

-

Sixty days.

Sixty days of detoxing his mind, body, and soul.

Sixty days of boring meals.

Sixty days of therapy multiple times a week.

Sixty days of sharing his darkest side with complete strangers.

Sixty days of uncomfortable beds and scratchy sheets.

Sixty days of living in sweat pants because it was all he had packed.

Sixty days of heart stopping guilt and revelations about himself and his behavior.

Sixty days of torturous inescapable demons that seemed to be at war in his mind.

Sixty days of not hearing her voice.

The moment she had told him she didn't want to talk to him while he was in rehab, he had wanted to stay. Give up the idea entirely and quit on his own accord. He didn't though, he went. And it wasn't only for her. No, it was for him too. And he thought maybe it was valid, maybe they did need space, time away to clear their minds and have a true fresh start. He could do things right this time.

And now, with his head clear, he was happy he had gone. He felt stronger, in his mind and body. It had been a lot, a lot of facing things that had happened in his childhood that he had never dared to face before. Things he didnt have to face when drugs and alcohol had been his safety net for so many years. He realized he didnt need substances to deal with those things, his traumas didnt make him weak or vulnerable, they made him stronger.

He did recognize his problem, and he couldn't say for sure that he would never touch the bottle or snort a line ever again because that was just unrealistic. He was only human and he would do his absolute best to be a good man, for himself.

For Bee too. If she still wanted anything to do with him, the silence between them was the loudest one he'd ever felt, even miles away.

Bee.

His lover. His everything.

There was nothing that could get in the way anymore, he hadn't realized until now how much his addictions had been separating him from her. And of course he had gotten off it before but never without alcohol to help him along. He had never been so fucking deep into his addictions, had never gone that crazy. What he had done was completely unacceptable and now he could only hope for the best when he saw her. A party thrown by Rhys and his girlfriend hadn't been his ideal meeting place... But it had been completely sprung on him. Him being in rehab wasnt a secret, but that didn't mean he wanted to advertise it. Rhys had promised it was a very small get together, just something to show their support. 'No pictures.' Azriel had been sure to clear that up with him. The party was supposed to be a surprise, luckily for Az, Rhys knew him better than that.

-

Rhys and his new girlfriend had out done themselves along with the help of Mor who had told me this morning when she arrived in town that she wouldn't have missed this for the world. 'I mean, Azriel sober? I have to see it for myself and support,' she had said over coffees earlier, I had gotten quiet, I knew I could have talked to her about how I was feeling. But it felt wrong, it was embarrassing to say the least. I didnt think she would understand, either.

Rhys' place was decked out, balloons everywhere, charcuterie and little desserts lined both of the large tables, there was a mocktail station and a coffee station where she had also decorated Rhys' coffee pot, another table had a 'fill your own cone' bud bar that included a big jar full of Azriels favorite cigarettes as well. Her theme was 'Sober & Slaying' and there were banners and balloons to match. My heart had swelled the moment I had entered the apartment and part of me felt a little guilty for not getting here earlier. I hadn't been doing much of anything though, I wasn't eating right, I wasn't sleeping right, my thoughts and fears and insecurities had been practically eating me alive. They hadn't even asked me to help with set up, simply to show up on time, I at least had arrived twenty minutes early.

"Oh good! You're here, will you help me with this last mocktail?" Feyre beams after she had pulled me into a quick hug. She was very sweet although a bit reserved at first she had warmed up to me quickly. She was setting up some last minute decorations, I was early, of course, my anxious gut hadn't allowed me to sit at home a moment longer.

Part of me was hoping this new relationship would entice Rhys to stay a little bit longer, but they were already talking about going long distance until Feyre was ready to take the leap and move to Vegas. Seemed awfully soon to even be talking about it to me, but I wasn't one to judge, they did seem madly in love nearly instantly, and Rhys was, different. Nicer even.

"Yeah of course," I flashed her a grin and tasted the mocktail she was working on before I added some more of the homemade blueberry simple syrup she had made. "So good," I hummed in approval once I had tasted it again.

"So like, will this be the first time you and Az speak?" Mor tries to make it sound as casual as possible, my eyes focus intently as I transferred the mocktail to the aesthetically pleasing drink dispensers Feyre had put out.

"Um yeah, I haven't seen him or spoke to him since the night before he left," I shrugged, my eyes not lifting once. It had been quite the emotional night, it felt like a lifetime ago.

"I visited him once, he looks really good," she responded and I couldn't stop the jealous pang that hit my gut. Space. We had decided space was the right thing for us, a reset to our relationship after everything we had been through. My dumb idea, but he had agreed. I only smiled in response, and was glad when Cassian arrived with a cake in hand, his loud greeting drew all the attention away from me. Bless him. I found a corner to sit in, a quiet corner with my phone and one of the mocktails Feyre had made. A few more arrived, Feyres sisters, which I had only met a handful of times. Why were they here? Az didn't know them, did he? The only way that was possible would be if Rhys had brought them for one of his visits— the mocktail felt sour in my stomach and I felt more than relieved when Kat finally arrived and joined me in my corner.

"Hi love, how you holding up?" Kat had been very supportive through this entire rehab thing, and was making my loneliness nearly bearable.

"I'm fine, really, just coping with all of— all of the emotions of all the sudden change I guess," I shrug easily, Kat was the only one I had really felt comfortable to tell my true feelings to. She was the only one I knew that wouldn't judge. She nodded in understanding, making herself comfortable in her seat.

"That's valid, it's a lot to take in girl," She begins and I'm relieved when she can't continue because Cassian is all but shouting a second later.

"He's coming up he texted me a few minutes ago," Cassians voice drowns out the chatter around the room and I feel my insides go to liquid, my throat feeling tight and constricted.

My heart stopped when I finally laid my eyes on him. Impossibly sexier. His face was more full, color in his cheeks, a sparkle in his eye I hadn't seen since we were kids, he stood straighter, making him look impossibly taller, shoulders spread, oozing with a confidence I hadn't seen in a long time. My gut twisted, my heart picking up, a steady hammer against my chest. I held my breath when our eyes met, his face fell as he scanned me from across the room and I wanted nothing more than to drop into the hole in the floor. It wasn't exactly the reaction I'd been hoping for. I knew I looked awful— but shit, we hadn't seen each other in two months.

"Azriel, it's nice to see you again," Elain is the first person in front of him she's loud enough to hear across the room, her sing song voice carrying, and I try to ignore it but my eyes are glued to his, and he has to tear his away from mine.

"So what, Rhys took Feyre and her random sisters to see Az in rehab?" I drop my voice, forcing myself to look away, to tune out their conversation to the best of my abilities. Kat bit her lip, a notable guilty blush creeping across her cheeks.

"I um.. I was there too," she admits, twirling her hair around her finger, I squint slightly. She could have at least told me that. "It was a last minute thing," she explained quickly, my expression probably throwing her off. I was jealous, I couldn't deny that— I had no one to blame but myself. If I'd never been so set on having space away from eachother... My blood heated, she was gorgeous, just the type that Azriel would go for to. "They just happened to be there and we made a group trip of it— and yeah, I didn't think you'd want to know, considering..." she trailed off and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Yeah, I don't mind at all," I would have rather jumped off of the balcony than have this conversation, I shouldn't have asked. The FOMO was certainly real and I wondered if that's why they were constantly all whispers when talking about Azriel, to spare me of that feeling.

"Youre not imagining her googly eyes though," she scoffs as she glances back over at them and then to me mocking a gag, I smirked a little bit glancing back at them once more and then to Kat again. She was for sure laying it on thick with the sweet tone and all of the unnecessary blinks. I didnt remember that about the first few times I met her.

"I mean I can't even blame her— he looks..." I trailed off searching for the right word, he looked amazing, delicious, sexier than he'd ever had before. He was practically glowing with whatever newfound confidence he'd gained from facing his many demons.

"I know that's your man but he looks hot," she finishes for me and we giggle together, I ignored the heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach that maybe he wasnt my man anymore.

"That he does," I sigh, twirling my straw around in my cup, suddenly I regretted not sneaking a few nips into my purse. I wouldn't get drunk at a sober party, I wouldn't, but something to take the edge off would be nice, and a joint didn't seem like the right option.

I effectively avoided Azriel for at least an hour, I hadn't been keeping track of time but it felt like it had been at least that long. I wasnt ready for a conversation, not when one look at him made my heart stop.

My stomach was growling, and I needed a snack. I was carefully piling charcuterie onto my plate when I jumped and nearly dropped the whole thing.

"Youre avoiding me, and youre doing a good job for how small the space is," his voice is the same one I remember, low and gravelly and sexy.

"Im not," I insist, just hoping he hadn't noticed the way I visibly jumped at the sound of his voice.

"I think I know when my girlfriend is avoiding me," he left a heavy emphasis on the word, looking at me expectantly as if he was daring me to challenge his claim on our relationship status. Relief washed over me, a tension that I hadn't been able to ease since the last time I saw him.

"Its just— Its been a lot I don't know, and having this conversation here... Seems like a lot too," I took a step back from the table but turned around to face him, I could feel more than one pair of eyes watching us, it only made me more uncomfortable.

"Are you eating?" its a direct question, soft but firm, his eyes scanning over every inch of me. My stomach flips, my cheeks reddening.

"Yes," I lift the small plate of cheese, crackers, and fruit as if that proved anything.

"Hm," he doesn't seem satisfied with my answer, his eyes not leaving me for a second.

"You look good Az, you look different," I chewed the inside of my lip, hoping my anxiousness didnt bleed into my words.

"Im still me baby im just better," that same confident smirk spreads across his lips, I knew it well but somehow- there was a different spark behind it. Something all those drugs had dimmed. A light I hadn't seen in a while. "For example, Im not gonna nod off on the couch anymore because Ive had a handle to myself for two days straight and Im hours off a two week coke bender," he said it so casually and leave it to Azriel to make a joke out of it. "From now on," his voice drops as if he knew they were all listening, I felt Elain's curious eyes on us and I knew she was trying to catch every word. Sorry, hes mine. "I won't fall asleep without making sure you are fed, fucked, and tucked into bed."

I blush, looking away from his stare, something in my gut eases but the anxiety is still settled there.

"And Im sorry, for each and every time I failed you. Im clear headed now and—" he cuts himself off, and maybe it was the look on my face that stopped him. "Would you feel better if we went outside?" he nods to the balcony, I quickly nod, desperate to be alone with him and not on display like some soap that they were all watching.

"Please, its. little stuffy in here," my words are a little rushed, and they were true, I felt like I could barely breathe anymore. And I was making a complete idiot out of myself when Azriel hadn't seen me in two months. I feel his hand on my back and he guides me out onto Rhys balcony, I don't look back again, I lean up against the balcony, resting my elbow on the railing and sucking in a deep breath of fresh air before popping one of the pieces of cheese into my mouth.

Azriel joins me after he had shut the door behind us, leaning up against the balcony next to me and he lit up a joint he had gotten off of the bud bar.

"Did you tell your psychiatrist you were going to smoke?" I ask casually, trying to change the subject into something else. Anything else but our relationship, I shouldn't be worried, he had already said I was still his girlfriend.

"Yes," he shrugged, taking another drag from it, I could feel his eyes on me as I set my plate down on the nearby table. I had barely touched it.

"And what did they say?" I ask, quirking a brow as I take it from him, it was annoying that I was more at ease now, normal territory, I didnt like the way sober Az could see right through me, I had thought he was able to before, and now?

He shrugged again, watching me. "Why are you trying to avoid talking about us?" he reaches out, tucking my hair behind my ear so I can't hide from him, my breath catches. He took the joint back, taking one more long drag before putting it out. I shook my head, I couldn't find the right words. He grabs my wrist gently and turns me around so my back is against the railing, his body so close, the scent of his cologne slamming into my senses. "Why?" he repeats, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light, his voice is soft and careful.

"I— I don't know Az," I breathe out, my heart felt like it would pound out of my chest. "It's just I—" I look away, unable to meet his gaze when I feel the word vomit coming. "Im afraid, Azriel. I am. And I know it's fucked up because I shouldn't be. I feel sick, sick with myself that I have been more worried about whether or not you would still want me when you got back than I have about you and your actual recovery. Ive been worried about you being different and not needing me and I know Im so fucked up for that there's something wrong with me and Im sorry—"

"Hey, hey, stop, breathe for a second," he interrupts me, a small sigh leaving his lips as he places both of his hands on my cheeks, lifting my face to look at him and he gently wipes away my shameful tears with his rough thumbs, the feeling makes my spine tingle. "Don't feel bad for anything that you feel or have felt in these past weeks," he assures me, one of his thumbs still gently rubbing against my cheek, his eyes burning into mine. "I— I created that for you, that whole thinking you need to be needed by me. I created this... Trauma bond, I know that now, I know that I made our relationship toxic. It's not your fault, I hadn't dealt with any of my shit and I basically put it on to you. Im sorry, Im sorry you felt like that at all and I wish..." he sighed softly, one of his hands fell to my waist. "I wish I had the courage to call you, because I wanted to so many times, but I didnt think you'd want to talk to me. You needed space and I had to respect that but seeing you now, seeing you haven't been taking care of yourself like you should have. I should have been there for you," he sighed, clearly frustrated with himself. "I know where I fucked up, I know what kind of damage Ive done, this only proves it," he brushed his finger over the dark circle underneath my eye. "I love you, I love you so much, maybe too much sometimes," he sighs again, I fight the urge to close my eyes and lean into his touch.

"Az I love you too," I breathe out because Im stunned into silence. Everything hes said, his accountability, his words, they felt like they were crashing into me.

"Im not going to leave you like that ever again," he promised, and took a step closer, pressing his body into mine. He felt stronger, more solid. It was almost like he had left a boy and returned a man. "You are going to be my wife some day, you are the fucking definition of ride or die Bee, I swear, for the last two months the more clear my head got I just realized one thing over and fucking over," he wasnt afraid, he had absolutely no hesitations, every single word felt like a promise, and I felt like my heart was palpitating. "I hit the fucking jack pot with you, and I fear the smartest thing that Ive ever done in my life was share my favorite candy with the girl across the street."

My cheeks are burning, tears streaming, but they aren't sad, just emotional. I don't know what else to do, my words are caught in my throat so I kissed him. I pulled him down, my fingers tugging in the hairs at the nap of his neck, our tongues tangling perfectly like they always had. He was mine, still my Az, better, better like he had said. He was right. A soft groan escaped his lips, my stomach flipped at the sound, the thought of how he would have his way with me later after so many days apart. My body melted into his at the thought, our hungry kiss only escalating. Our desperate need for each other matching perfectly, our emotions pouring into the heated kiss. I tilted my head his lips traveling down my jaw and across my neck, settling behind my ear and gently sucking. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, I moaned his name softly, my body feeling like a hot puddle.

"Hmm?" he hummed against my skin, his hand had slipped under my dress where he was rubbing soft circles on the least sensitive part of my thigh, somehow it was still driving me mad.

"We, we should go in now... They are going to be wondering whats taking us so long," I breathed out, I couldn't even see past Azriel into the house, I was sure they could see us though, or at least see Azriel pinning me against the railing.

"They should have known better than to throw me a party when I haven't seen my baby in sixty whole days, and they definitely should have known better than to let you wear this dress," he tugs lightly at the fabric. "They should have known Id need alone time with you," his eyes glimmered with mischief. "I have a lot of making up to do," he added, tracing his scarred finger over my jawline.

"I hated this idea more than you Im sure," I admitted guiltily, biting down on my lip. "But they worked really hard Az," I tried to peek around him to see inside again, he only shifted to block my view.

"Fine, but five more minutes," he smirked, tilting my chin up again.

"Five more minutes," I whispered breathlessly before he crashed his lips onto mine again, and I felt all of my anxiety melt away, as if he was pulling it from me.

And I felt safe.

Home.

Safe.

-

taglist <3:

@smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies @durgenyx @lorosette @kayjaywrites

[thedrotter]

not-yet-dead-person

silly comic of a conversation in-game i thought was too funny not to make something proper for instead of a doodle ww

(timelapse + wip images (thus silly process commentary in read more if you like artist commentary :3)

i think the sketch looks silly and goofy and funny so i find it important to share with you the mere presence of the faces i drew on it. i drew it on top of the boxes without staying inside its borders because i find my proportions can get wonky if i draw them cropped in a restricted space. and I feel trapped otherwise and i will draw BAD!!! give me spaceeeee to go wild!!!!

the head circles are there for emotional support

very low res speedpaint because truth is the canvas was much bigger than the space where my comic was placed. i didnt account when exporting my timelapse in 720px that that tiny space would look so pixelated ... but it's able to be percieved, so its okay.

(i will now comment on my process and it is not brief sorry)

usually i would try to clean up my sketches and figure out what goes on top before jumping into linework, but since there are multiple panels and drawings i chose to jump into inking right away for the sake of brevity. i just went in with a brush that uses pen pressure and drew what was needed. i added extra line thickness and contrast in areas around the face because it helps direct your eyes there more easily that way.

according to her equipment rei has a chain belt but i only remembered it existed once I was going to color, and i did not like that discovery... I chose to ignore it to maintain my peace. i already have the color palettes for these characters figured out, and i didnt really want to think about a new element at the moment www I tend to overthink those things a lot so i skipped it

the rest is rather straightforward! not that anything else wasn't, but in here i could turn my brain off and sing. linework and sketching require mumbling so i cannot turn my brain off. just block in the characters with a solid color so i can have a mask (something along those lines,) where the color can stay inside. then just color in !!!

Base colors just had slight cell shading on the skin, and for the hair i airbrush a bit of the skincolor in low opacity near the forehead... I'm not sure what it means, but i can look at the faces easier with it somehow. i like the gentle subtlety it adds even if you cant really tell. it makes things look nice.

background was just me blocking in the color of the wall and floor, shade the wall a bit, then slap a noise and free use wood texture on top. work smarter not harder ! yet it took a bit to make it look stylistically fitting with the characters, and even now i think bottom middle panel looks odd. whatever!!!

for the middle panel i thought itd be funny if the background was a solid silly and colorful one to contrast the next panel's sketchy black one. a contrast to how the word widow is seen. on that note my handwritting is not pointy. i gaslighted my hand into thinking that it was indeed pointy in that moment so i could write "not-yet dead person" in letters that didn't seem cute. my hand did not fall for it but it complied anyway

that's basically it! I'm not sure what else i could say that doesn't feel barebones because it really is that straightforward. if you're curious I used clip studio paint for this. only special brush used was for linework (a brush named Lemon Brush), the rest used were just the default. my computer gets the least credit. it was trying to convince me a 20mb file was going to nuke it all the time and hardly let me save multiple times so i do not appreciate it

[doedipus]

a large amount of time I've been spending on -untitled undefined scope original fiction project- since the last time I posted about it has been trying to develop the protagonist concept I came up with last summer or whatever into like, a character that would feel real and era appropriate.

it's fun research to do. naturally a lot of the details I assigned to her are things that I already think are cool, so it's been a lot of fun trying to trace her traits back through the relatively recent past, getting reminded of how much things have changed, or where the gaps in my intuition are, and then doing a flurry of reading to get a sense for exactly how someone like her and the people around her could have happened and what her life was probably like leading up to her present day. hopefully this results in some good good verisimilitude.

[chickenstrangers]

Thai QL Favorites Tag Game

Tagged by @sollucets and @telomeke! 🥰

Credit also: this game was created by @thatgirl4815 as Thai BL Favorites Tag Game.

Favorite Thai QL - favorite show is a very close tie between Moonlight Chicken and Bad Buddy. I love them both most ardently. I suppose we'll go with Bad Buddy, depending on the definition of QL, but I am back in my Moonlight Chicken feels these days and it is an all time favorite show

Favorite Pairing - I think I have to say Pat and Pran, their dynamic is incredible, they're funny, they're heartbreaking, I love how they get each other

Most Underrated Actor - none of the women get enough recognition. Right now I have been loving Mild, View, and Fah's acting. (also not saying he's underrated at all but I think people underestimate Earth as a comedic actor, and I am once again asking people to watch Mama Gogo, which has another of my favorite actresses, Cris)

Favorite Character - Wen is everything to me (surprising no one)

Favorite Side Character - I love Pa from BBS so much (favorite if I'm not limited to Thailand is Hashimoto from Kieta Hatsukoi, she's one of the best friends in a QL period) (also really enjoying the uncles in My Ride)

Favorite Scene - Moonlight Chicken episode 6 part 1 Jim and Wen talking at the harbour. It is such a beautiful shot scene, it's the scene where they start to really understand each other and take a step forward, and talk through the barriers in their relationship but connect over their shared sense of loneliness.

A close second is the My School President episode 11 scene on the mountain where the friends get mad at each other and frustrated by their loss but work through it together with so much care. Also have to shoutout Bad Buddy and Pat playing the xylophone, the raw emotion behind it really gets me. Also the scene in Not Me where Black comes back and tricks Sean wrecked me, the acting was so good. Also----

Favorite Line - A lot of Moonlight Chicken lines ring through my head constantly, but probably "I can live anywhere, but it's damn lonely."

Most Anticipated - looking forward to OF of course but really really really excited for 23.5 now that they've started posting about it. I can't wait to see more queer female characters on these shows

Healthiest Relationship - Tinn and Gun? Pat and Pran? I like how they work through things together

Most Toxic Relationship - there are many, but I'm reinterpreting this as a relationship that I actually care about and like, which is Alan and Wen. They are obviously not suited, but I think what we see of their relationship is so fascinating, exploring the pain of one person falling out of love, and the desperation and loneliness inherent in their messy situation

Guilty Pleasure - maybe Tonhon Chonlatee, which, for all its many problems, was a mostly quite enjoyable watch mainly because of Khaotung and Neo's characters

Most Underrated - He's Coming to Me, historically quite underrated but I'm seeing a lot more love for it here recently which is wonderful. If I can talk about shows outside of Thai QL, I would love to see more people watching/talking about Mama Gogo, Kieta Hatsukoi, and My Tooth, Your Love

tagging (no pressure) @dudeyuri @ranchthoughts @icouldhyperfixatehim @loveongsa @lurkingshan @kattahj and anyone else who wants to play! (feel free to ignore if you were already tagged or don't feel like it)

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

[babygirl-riley]

Hi I have a request so it’s like Simon and his wife arguing pretty badly like to the point where she’s shouting bare at him she’s on the verge of tears and while their arguing their new born cries so the reader goes upstairs to the crying baby once their baby is calm she doesn’t even go back downstairs to talk to him she just like stays in the baby room and goes on her social media to distract her self from Simon.

Hii so I have this written in my notes I always do that so I don’t forgot what I’m gonna ask and I hope this is what u meant tho cause im so slow it acc took me bare long to understand 😭

Quiet Home

You and Simon have been back to back arguments. Before you both could finish this one a loud cry interrupted the fight.

A/N: this is exactly what you asked for 😭 So embarrassing truly 💀 However this really tugged the heartstrings

“I want to be close to you, but I don't know what to do.'Cause if we are near to through, it may make it worse.”

Warnings: baby blues, depression, anger, arguments, fighting, yelling, screaming, baby crying, swearing, soft!simon, husband!simon, happy ending

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

You were exhausted, you would clean, go get groceries, wake up every hour with the newborn, and everything in between. Usually you had Simon right beside you and help you with the smallest things. However, duty calls. Price promised Simon a couple months leave however, it was an emergency.

When Simon first brought it up, you knew he saw the rolling of the eyes but you brushed it off. Simon brought it up later and you just tried to push it away. Eventually it blew up. Things were said and yelled that weren’t meant to come out. Simon slept in a different room and he was gone for a couple of weeks.

You didn’t answer his calls but text him updates. It was petty but it’s a petty time. You were promised to have your husband here with both your child. Yet you are here almost falling asleep anytime it was early in the morning to feed the baby. You sat outside of the room of your baby as she bailed and bailed, being irritated and tired. Eventually you would go in sure but you were so scared that you would yell at her for being a baby.

After the couple of weeks you tried to brush it under the rug as you made Simon’s favorite dinner. Knowing he would be home. He text you stating that he will be home around 7 o clock and he was excited to see both you and the baby. 7 went to 8, 8 went to 9, 9 went to 10, 10 went to 11, and so on. The food went cold and baby was down. Especially you were tired.

You already put the food away and sat in the living room. You watched the clock before you angrily got up and started the bath. You needed to cool down. You heard the heavy footsteps heading down the hall. You rolled your eyes with the clock read 1 AM.

Simon noticed the light beaming through the room you both shared. Inhaling deeply he stepped in and rounding into the bathroom. You stood with a robe on and touching the warm water.

“S’rry ‘m late.” He said watching your movements.

“Okay.” You said not looking at him.

He frowned and shook his head. “I had a ton of paperwork and didn’t notice the time. Thought I had enough time.”

You didn’t say nothing as you went to the cabinet and pulled out your favorite salts for the bath. Simon watched as you poured them in and went back to put it away. “Y/n please.”

“Please what Simon? You were late. You weren’t here. Shit happens right? Emergencies happen. It’s whatever at this point.” You scoffed as you finally looked at him.

Simon noticed the anger in your eyes. He was upset that he left without resolving the last fight. He was upset that when he called you didn’t want to talk. He was upset he wasn’t home when he was supposed to be and not seeing his babygirl. He also noticed you are tired. Exhausted even. The bags. The purple shade underneath your eyes. “It’s my job you knew that when you signed up for it.”

You laughed and shook your head. “You don’t think I know that? Don’t you dare throw that in my face Simon. We were promised a break for our child yet he drags you back and you are willing to without a second glance.”

“Really? It goes back to me not carin’ about our family huh? That’s what you said before I left. You think I care more about my job than us.”

“Yes! Yes I do! I think that you are stuck in a loop without anyone but you! You are fine with just going instead of being here!” You yelled starting to walk out and brushing passed Simon.

“It’s my job! I have to go! I can’t leave my team behind!” He yelled back following you.

You scoffed as you ripped your robe off, ripping open your drawers. “Right but you can do it to us.” You mumbled pulling out sweats and a t-shirt.

“What’s that supp’se to mean?” He basically growled.

You snapped up and looked at him. “Ever since Millie was born it was like you have been gone. You will help yes but how long did that last before you skipped your happy ass to Price,” You yelled pulling the sweats up as you felt a sting of tears coming. You laughed as you heard nothing from him. “I have been doing this by myself with no help! Nothing Simon!”

“That’s not fair! How many times do I have to say it’s my fuckin’ job…”

“You have a job here!” You screamed as tears started to spill and right before anyone could say anything a wail broke through the air.

You both stood there for a minute before you raked your fingers through your hair. You wiped your eyes angrily. “Damn it,” You pulled your shirt on before walking out, grabbing your phone on the dresser. “I am sleeping in the other room.” You slammed the door shut before walking to the baby’s room.

You opened it as Millie screamed louder. You cried as you walked closer that turns to a sob. You didn’t know what to do. How to do it. You don’t know how to keep her asleep and fed and changed without being upset. You gripped the crib hard as you couldn’t move. You were tired and your baby needs you. “I’m sorry,” You cried as you picked her up and shushed her softly. “I know I know.”

You sat in the rocking chair as you let your baby fed. You scrolled on social media seeing all the happy couples. All what they are doing. All your friends looking like they don’t have problems. You missed Simon, not like he changed, just his touch, he soft voice when he whispers I love you. You missed his laugh when you both would have that marriage banter. You missed his tea.

You are afraid that maybe having a kid was a bad idea. That it ruined or tainted everything. You looked at your baby and inhaled. How could you think like that? What has she done to make you feel that way? It seemed like anytime Simon was around you were angry. Small arguments that turned into this. Your lip trembled and you held your baby closer to your chest. Tears prickling your eyes.

You threw your phone on the ground and sobbed. You were a monster. How could a mother think like that? Why would a wife yell at her husband for doing his job? You kept thinking about all the bad things that happened or been thought of that you didn’t notice that your baby was being scooped up.

When the cold air touched your skin, you opened your eyes panicked. You thought you dropped her as you looked down with tears blinding you before you felt a hand on your cheek. You snapped your eyes to see Simon, holding your baby girl close to his chest as she was asleep. “Baby,” He whispered concerned on his face. He was kneeling as he wiped tears after tears. “Come on let me put her to bed and let’s go talk please.”

“No,” You mumbled as you stood up. “I got her.”

Simon stood up and shook his head. “Please, you look tired.”

“I-I no she needs me.” You whispered but made no move to grab her.

“She has me too,” He said quietly. “Go to the kitchen please.”

You stared for a moment and looked at your baby. How small she was compared to him. How secure she looks when he was holding her. You nodded as you wiped more of the tears away. “Okay.”

Guilt pinged your chest as you glanced once to see him bouncing a bit as he slowly put her down. You walked into the kitchen and sat at the island as quiet tears slipped. You are tired you felt your body relax and felt heavy. “Baby,” You snapped your head up and saw Simon holding a kettle. “Do you want tea?”

You nodded once and looked away. It was quiet as he face the kettle waiting for it to go off. “I’m still mad at you.” You mumbled.

Simon nodded as he turned to lean against the counter. “Why is that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Simon you know why.”

Simon walked up and leaned his elbows on the counter. “Y/n I’m not doin’ it to hurt you two.”

You froze for a moment before looking away. Thoughts of how it could be different with him not having the damn job. However, he was right he wasn’t doing it to hurt you. “I told Price to call someone else but…he needed me for what I know.” You slowly looked at him as Simon looked the other direction. “I fought the old man about it for days. I didn’ say nothin’ cause I knew you would be upset. I didn’t notice that I was pushing you and our princess away. Just-just tried to figure out how to get out of it…I’m sorry.”

Now you felt even more bad. He tried to fight not to go and fought for the two of you. You inhaled but don’t exhaled afraid of sobbing once more. The moment Simon looked at you, you sobbed and hid your face with your hands. “I didn’t-I’m so sorry Simon.”

Simon walked around and shook his head as he turned the chair to gently pull you on for a hug. “Baby I should have said something and not fought it alone.”

You sobbed and sobbed as everything came down. “I’m so tired Si. I am tired of being awake so damn early. I am tired of cooking. I am tired of not being able to do anything. I am tired of fighting with you. I am sorry Simon. I should have been m-more understanding. You don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve to marry such a bitch. I have been so ru…”

He gently pushed you off to grab your wrists to show your face. Simon smiled softly before grabbing your chin with his thumb and finger. “I know. I know. You been overwhelmed with so much. We will figure it out yeah? It’s okay, we are fine. I married you for you even when it’s rocky. It won’t always be perfect.”

You calmed down a bit as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

The kettle goes off as Simon kissed your forehead to walk over. You sat still as Simon came around. “I will be here right now, try my best to help you my love.”

You looked up and saw him, his eyes glowing with love. You inhaled and nodded as he pulled you back into his chest. You snuggled in and felt warmth throughout your body. God no one deserves Simon Riley.

[mypoisonedvine]

"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader

(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth

once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!

Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.

The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately.  No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it.  And believe it or not, he wanted more than that.  Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone.  He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night.  Either, or both, would do.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you.  He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job.  It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels.  The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security.  This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.

But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window.  His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…

He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation.  But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.

Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.

~

The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you.  He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with.  Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.

For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you.  It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction.  Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong.  This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been.  His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike.  God, did he really have a crush?  How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.

"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.

"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said.  He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.

"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.

"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.

"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"

Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."

He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive.  "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.

"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”

As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.

“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."

"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer.  Like fish in a barrel.  "How old is it?"

"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.

"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again.  "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious.  Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."

You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about.  He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.

“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson.  It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”

You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him.  “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”

“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”

“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained.  “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”

Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying.  And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still.  A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do.  And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people.  You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again.  He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it.  No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all.  Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.

And he also found that annoyingly attractive.  Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.

….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!

“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied. 

“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.

“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around.  Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”

“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own.  I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”

“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled.  “For me it’s probably cocktails.  I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.

Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess.  Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected.  All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.

“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”

You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.

“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.

For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh.  “You were on the right track,” you admitted.

“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration.  After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”

“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.

“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself.  Your drink order, I mean.”

Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far.  Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment.  “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.

He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown.  Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off?  You’d seemed so flattered before.  “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice.  “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?

“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face.  “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there.  So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”

“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch.  “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there.  I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly.  “Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on.  “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”

You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace.  “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply.  “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.

“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.

“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.

Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself.  Bitch.  But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course.  Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted.  Do what I say, or he gets hurt.

Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician.  But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.

~

The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.

“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.

And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him.  He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties.  “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him.  But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going.  Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.

It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth.  “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck.  “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”

Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.

“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while.  “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."

Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long.  That made you feel more violated than anything.

“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait.  I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”

You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything.  “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”

It was the way he said that word: sweet.  It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day.  Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that.  “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”

“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.

“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”

“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face.  “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly.  “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”

“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.

“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned.  “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers.  Don’t give me one.”

Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself.  Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen.  And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.

“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.

You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.

“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.

“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.

“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.

“Yours!  Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek.  “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this.  Please don’t do this.”

You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest.  “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”

You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.

“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.

“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck.  “You’re right— you can do whatever you want.  I can’t stop you.  Isn’t that what you wanted to prove?  Just… just don’t make me—”

“Make you?” he repeated.  “No, no— you wanted me.  I could tell.  Only thing stopping you was him.”

He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.

“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you.  “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”

Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.  

“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts.  “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”

You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come.  “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.

“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.

“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick.  “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic?  That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only.  That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least.  You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”

He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.  

“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.

“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved.  “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”

"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"

Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.

A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin.  You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.  

"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"

He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"

As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.

"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself.  You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head.  He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.

“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip.  “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”

You shook your head.  “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say.  Don’t hurt him.”

“Open your legs,” he ordered.  

Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.  

“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.

He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further.  His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.

Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum.  "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled.  You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away.  Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other.  "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.

Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.  

You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking.  Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you?  Or was it for his own benefit?

He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open.  Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.  

“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course.  Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely.  “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”

You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips.  “So wet.  Fuck.  When’d you get like that, huh?  Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”

He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.

“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly.  “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”

You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.

“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed.  “Fuck, I might break you…”

He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction.  There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips. 

“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless.  “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”

He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.

“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised.  “Now you try it.”

This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside.  He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.

“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks.  “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl.  Knew you could.”

You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet.  He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.

“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head.  “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”

You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned.  “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”

Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.

You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.

“Go on!  Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.

You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this.  From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening.  Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…

But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.

“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”

“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.

“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly.  “Please fuck me.”

You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you.  You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside.  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, it’s tight.  Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town.  I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”

Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.

Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this.  The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.

Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment.  “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.

“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously).  “Not used to anything this big, huh?”

You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend.  You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.

“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust.  Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life.  “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”

The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to.  It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.

“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this.  “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”

Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once.  Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder.  He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore.  Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck.  One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.

“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss.  “Fuck.”

But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him.  “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”

“God,” he growled, “say my name again.  That’s so hot.”

You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late.  “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.

“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.

“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this.  “Jackson, f-fuck—”

He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…

As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair. 

"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.

Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.

Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.

You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole.  “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.

“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.

“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain.  “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper.  Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling.  “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”

Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.

“See?  Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb.  Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.

He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck. 

"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"

He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass.  You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…

"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."

You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.

“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster.  “Needy little slut.  You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”

You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Answer me," he insisted.

"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.

"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.

"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.

“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone.  “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”

“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”

"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"

He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.

"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue.  "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."

You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.

He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction.  "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"

You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why.  It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird.  Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.

“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.  

At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting.  But in a literal sense, it hurt less.

“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back.  Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected.  You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly.  “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”

Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly.  “F-fuck, wait—“

He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him.  For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure.  “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”

As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going.  “Fuck!” you screamed.  “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.  

You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something.  Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized.  Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.

“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder.  “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll.  Show him who you really belong to now.”

“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries.  If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).

It felt fucking good.  You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious.  And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless.  You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually.  Shameless.  Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed.  “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.  

It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.  

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"

“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.

“Mm?  Why not?” he smirked.

You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that.  “What?” you just asked groggily.  “Why… why do you think?!”

He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going.  Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?

“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.

“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific.  “Fuck!”

He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing.  But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could.  You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.

He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?

As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.

“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.

You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.

“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.

Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor.  Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him.  He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat.  “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.

He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest.  You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.

When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.  

It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved.  It’s over, he’s finally done with you.  You did it.  It’s over.  But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.

“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you.  “You see it, don’t you?  He looks different now.”

You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time.  His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing.  You suddenly felt sick.

“He looks at you different now.”

You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that.  Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you.  But what had you done wrong?  All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person… 

Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder.  “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.  

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.

“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”

Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek.  “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault!  I didn’t want this to happen!”

“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”

You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly.  After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.

He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence.  “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.

“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took.  Everything. From me.”

“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you?  Can’t help that?”

“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.

“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?” 

Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience.  You shook your head.

“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that.  I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”

“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.

“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked.  “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”

You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself.  “Work…?”

“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 13 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: college anxiety, angst, Gabrielle, Lisa, alcohol, cursing, mentions of cheating, a frat party, explicit content: implied sex

☆word count: 8.9k

☆a/n: more angst oop- I hope you guys like it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, August 30

Summer came and went. Like everything in life, it became just a moment in time, a short movie consisting of flashing scenes of friendship and fun and sun, of pools and tanning and hikes. Summer was perfect, summer was healing, yet summer couldn’t heal everything.

Summer hasn’t healed a doe-eyed boy from your heart, but you think it’s okay. You think, perhaps your love for Jungkook is just everlasting, another one of those memories you know you’ll cherish for the rest of your life.

You reckon, if you were to have kids one day and they’d asked you who your first love was, you wouldn’t be able to answer their father.

It will always be Jungkook, no matter the bitterness and the pain of the ending.

It’s his necklace you wear on your heart every day after all.

You’ve worked all summer, amassing money to cover your expenses for the year. You’ve gone back home with Taehyung for a week your mother had off, and you spent it camping like you did when you were kids, gaze getting lost in starlight and sun rays on the water, reflections of light that left afterimages on your retina.

Much like Jungkook is an afterimage on your heart. Never fully erased, yet the pain isn’t as sharp anymore. Like the time soothed its edges, reminding you of the good part, allowing you to let go of the bad.

The first news you had of Jungkook this summer was stories posted on a Saturday evening, of him and Lisa and friends in New York City. Turns out Lisa landed an internship at an architect firm in New York through her father’s connections, and turns out it was all she needed to be welcomed into Jeon Jungkook’s world over there.

You’d been jealous back then, bitterly so. Yoongi, bless his heart, had forced you to hang out at his place, claiming the empty room needed to be repainted before Namjoon moved in for the semester. It’d been a good distraction, and by the end of the weekend, you’d realized that Jungkook was allowed to have friends, to move on from your idyllic moment in his life.

It hurt, but it was a sign of healing.

You got closer to Yoongi over the summer. Learned all about his past, about his high school and how his parents were supportive when he came out, yet reluctant when he brought his first boy home. He’d told you how he met Hoseok in his last year of high school despite not attending the same school, and how their friendship had immediately blossomed.

Only to wither in April, when Hoseok had chosen to leave. None of you or your friends have had any news of him since then, like he wiped his existence from all of your lives like it was nothing. It’s been hard for Yoongi, harshly so, so you’ve made sure to always be available for him, too.

Namjoon and Nabi’s relationship didn’t suffer such a fate. They’ve only been growing stronger over the summer, proof that despite Namjoon getting out of his relationship with his ex and jumping in the one with Nabi right away, they were meant for each other. In truth, you’ve never seen anyone love each other like Namjoon and Nabi do, and maybe that most of all has healed your bleeding heart.

There has to be someone out there who’ll love you like you’re the one who paints his every sunset. 

Seokjin wasn’t on the receiving end of such a relationship. He’d confessed to Ria halfway through the summer, telling her that he couldn’t do the see-saw anymore, that he needed everything or nothing, and in good Ria fashion, your friend ran. She ran and ran, until Seokjin told her he was ashamed of having believed she deserved to be loved.

The blow has been hard on Ria, and she hasn’t been with anyone since then. Hasn’t mentioned Seokjin once either, but you know that, whenever you go out, he’s the one she’s looking for. 

The strangest part of this summer happened on a random Tuesday evening when you’d just come home from work. Taehyung and Ariane, ever so the lovebirds, had been hanging out in the living room when you’d crossed the threshold. Taehyung’s gaze had shot to you, and he’d uttered words you think have been carved into your brain.

“Did you know Jungkook is the heir of JJS pharmaceuticals?” 

You did. You knew about his father’s company - he’d told you once when you’d been lying with your head on his chest, one of the rare times he’d talked about his family after your weekend escapade to New York.

But you knew Jungkook’s existence had been mostly a secret, his father refusing to announce his existence to the world because Jungkook had refused to study at an Ivy League College.

At the confusion on your face - or rather, the masked pain you’d been hiding for weeks and months - Taehyung had added, “There was a conference press, and he’s all over social media.”

He was. You found out quickly enough, articles and articles about him showing up on your Instagram as well. You’d seen pictures from the press conference: though his father had been smiling wide, Jungkook had only been staring at the camera, like he’d wished he could disappear.

You don’t know what led him to accept a position at his father’s company before he’d even graduated, but you knew then and know now that it had to not have been his choice.

So indeed, summer came and went until it became just a memory, and the new semester now looms over the horizon, a reminder that though your skin might have been sunkissed these last few months, it’s now time to return to reality.

You’re sitting in the kitchen, indulging in Buldak noodles as you read a book about Faes and High Lords and a Night Court. You’ve started reading again over the summer, another way to escape that helped fill your breaks at work when you didn’t go out for lunch with your coworkers. It was nice to reconnect with your previous love for reading - indeed, you’d spent years in middle school and high school getting lost in fantasy and dystopian worlds, and recovering this part of you might have been another way to heal.

It’s reminded you that every story is worth telling, even those that don’t end well.

So you sit at the kitchen table, halfway done with your noodles, when the front door opens and closes. 

“Hello!” you greet out of reflex.

Taehyung and Ariane were out shopping for groceries, and though they haven’t left a long time ago, you assume it’s them coming home.

“Do you need any help?” you ask as no one replies, which is strange.

They’re always talking about everything and nothing, joking around like they’re the only people in the world. It’s something you do find cute, but that always grates your nerves in all the wrong ways.

Where Nabi and Namjoon have been making you feel hopeful when it comes to love, Taehyung and Ria have made you jaded too.

The silence prolongs, and you don’t even hear them taking off their shoes. You furrow your brows, wondering if they’re trying to prank you. So you put your book down even though you are in the middle of a good scene, and you push up from the table, heading towards the kitchen’s doorway.

You reckon, maybe you should have expected it. You’d known he was coming back at some point - he still has a year left of college. But you didn’t think he’d show up on an early Friday evening, clutching his duffel bag and standing by the door like he’s a guest in his own home.

He’s changed. The first thing you notice is that he’s changed: he doesn’t have the eyebrow piercing anymore, his hair is shorter - almost entirely shaved at the sides - and though he still has the lip piercings, he looks different than what you remember.

As if a few months was enough to blur your memories of Jeon Jungkook, and the wound you’d thought to be healed over the last few months reopens, pouring liquid lava on your entire body until you think you’re burning, and not in a good way.

He’s dressed in all black, like some things don’t change after all. He looks more built than he was last semester, like he’s gone to the gym a lot more over the summer. His tattoos have also changed - they’ve been coloured, some of them, as if he tried to put colours back into his life.

You hope it worked. But when you hold his gaze, the heaviness making you want to disappear through the floor, you think maybe it didn’t work at all.

“Y/n,” he greets.

His voice has changed too. Or maybe it’s just the emotions, maybe it’s just the fact that the last thing he ever told you were those words in the letter you keep hidden in your night table, words you’ve romanticized every night trying to fall asleep.

Not that you would tell anyone.

“Jungkook,” you reply in the same tone.

He nods once, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he takes off his shoes. You watch him, dumbly standing in the doorway, and he shoots you a look once his shoes - black boots that look far too warm for the summer - are off.

“How are you?”

His three words throw you off. They make you feel like last semester might have been a construct of your imagination, but then again you hold that letter too dearly, and the memories of him have been your favourites for months now.

“I’m okay,” you reply, nodding once. “How are you?”

He pulls on his piercings, the gesture familiar yet so different than how you’ve been imagining it every night. “I’m chill.”

He starts to walk towards his room, but he stops halfway there, glancing over your head into the kitchen. 

“Want something to eat?” you ask, and you wonder if he hears your heart as it picks up in your chest.

You see the moment he spies the Buldak noodles on the table. He smiles softly, with his eyes first, and you think maybe this is it.

Maybe he came back home.

Came back home to you.

But then his features fall, the smile vanishing and darkness invading his gaze. He shakes his head no, nodding towards his room. “Thanks, but I gotta unpack.”

You watch him walk the rest of the way towards his bedroom. He turns the knob, pushes the door open, yet he freezes there. His shoulders tense, and even though you don’t see his features, you know he wants to say something else.

You hope he will, hope he’ll say something that might mend the bridge between the two of you. That might erase this abyss between you and him until the ending disappears.

You know it’s because you haven’t seen him in a long time. Know that, when it all comes down to it, you wouldn’t go back to him - he broke your heart, and you’d be a fool to return to him. But you like to imagine that you would as he stands there, that you’d run to him if he turned and said the right words.

But he doesn’t. He sighs, and then he walks into his room, shutting the door softly behind him. And as he disappears from view, you feel yourself stumble, like you’ve taken a hit right to the chest. You lay a hand over your beating heart, almost expecting to feel blood trickling through your fingers.

As if he’s just broken your heart all over again, torn it from your ribcage. Yet it breaks - you didn’t think he still had that power over you.

Hell, you thought you’d been moving on.

You walk back into the kitchen, the room spinning around you. You drop in the chair you were sitting in before, eyeing your book. And though you want to get lost in the fantasy world again, you’re bleeding out on your chair, pain burning along every single one of your nerves.

How are you supposed to share a roof with the one that broke your heart?

The answer is easy. You can’t.

You need to get out of here, and quickly.

Monday, September 2nd 

Your first day back to college is long. You’ve got two classes - a morning and an afternoon class, both of them three hours long. 

When the second one ends - luckily half an hour early ‘because it’s the first day’ as the professor said - you make your way out of class with Nabi. She’s typing away on her phone, likely asking Namjoon when he’ll be home, yet she follows you as you head to the dorms.

You’ve been crashing at the girls’ dorm over the weekend, as you try to figure out what you should do. You haven’t figured anything yet - Taehyung’s been telling you that you shouldn’t move out, asking if it’s because of Ariane moving in, and though you’ve been good at avoiding mentioning Jungkook, there’s just so much you can do before you burst and admit that it’s because of him.

But it’s okay - Nabi’s been staying with Yoongi and Namjoon, so you have her bed all to yourself, and Ria and you have been treating it like a massive sleepover, doing face masks every night and getting mildly drunk on Saturday.

Nabi sighs as you walk towards the dorms, and you throw her a look. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel like this semester is about to be the worst,” she admits, slightly shaking her head. “Namjoon basically confirmed it.”

You hook your arm with hers, resting your head on her shoulder. “Baby, it’s fine. We’re in this together.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the top of our class.”

“And you’re the second,” you remind her. “We’ll be okay, I promise.”

She nods, heaving out a heavy breath again. “Is it bad that I’m already anxious?”

You don’t reply right away, as you pass through a group of engineer students gathered in front of a class, most likely getting ready for an evening class. An evening class on the first Monday… 

You feel bad for them.

“It’s not bad,” you reply once you’ve finally walked past. “It means that you care about your grades. You just need to not let it eat you alive.”

“I think I’m just realizing that getting into med school might be harder than we thought,” she says with a sigh.

You stop, tugging on her arm so that she stops too. “No, I’m not having any of that,” you tell her. “We’ll both get in, Nabi, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, folding her arms on her chest.

“Yup.” You nod forcefully. “Dead serious. And after that, it’s smooth sailing until residency. And then we get a residency together, and we become sexy doctors.”

“Bruh,” she lets out, and she chuckles.

You’re happy your distraction works because you truthfully didn’t know where you were headed with it. “I promise!” you insist. “Give us a couple of years, and we’ll have our own practice.”

“You want to be a surgeon, and I want to be an ophthalmologist,” she reminds you. “Not quite sure we’d practice at the same place.”

You shrug, and you start walking towards the dorms again. “To be fair, we’ll probably both end up at a hospital. We just need to find a way to work at the same one.”

She purses her lips. “That sounds doable.”

You smirk mischievously. “Damn right.”

*****

Nabi ends up staying with you and Ria at the dorm for a couple of hours after class, and you order takeout that you eat sitting in a circle on the floor like you usually do when you do pre-drinks before a party. It’s fun, more chill than a pre-party gathering, and Ria tells you all about how she ran into Seokjin on campus today.

“He didn’t even look at me,” she admits. “What a dick.”

You exchange a knowing look with Nabi. “Maybe he didn’t see you,” you try.

“He ignores me when we all hang out together too,” she points out. “He’s doing it on purpose.”

Nabi scrunches up her nose. “Yeah… you did lead him on for months.”

“Not my fault if he fell in love,” Ria grumbles, her gaze dropping to the rice bowl she’s eating.

“It might not be your fault, but you still led him on,” Nabi pushes.

Ria huffs a breath, scoffing, but she doesn't say anything. She never really does when it comes to Seokjin anyway.

“Why are you so against the idea of being with him again?” you ask.

The scalding look you earn would put a dragon to shame. “Because I don’t want to be in a relationship,” she says, sounding like you a year ago when your friends had been pestering you about Hoseok.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“We all know he’d treat you like a goddess though,” Nabi says. “The guy’s a hopeless romantic.”

Ria rolls her eyes. “Cringe.”

You playfully push her, and she bursts out laughing. You don’t miss the way her cheeks have dusted with pink though - and neither does Nabi - but you don’t mention it.

You have a feeling Ria is lying to herself more than she’s lying to the both of you, but you’d never dare tell her. She’ll figure it out on her own or not, and that’s what being in college is.

You try stuff; some of it works, and some doesn’t. 

Jungkook invades your thoughts, your chest aching all over again. You reach for the peach at the end of the chain, playing with the pendant mindlessly as if that can tame the ache, push it back to the back rooms of your mind.

It barely works, yet you manage to be able to let go of him after a few deep breaths, and a prolonged silence of Nabi staring at Ria while the latter is solely focused on eating. Your unease went unnoticed, which you reckon is a relief.

Confiding in them about Jungkook has helped over the summer, obviously, but there are some things you want to keep to yourself. Because Jungkook deserves the centrepiece in all of the secrets you’ve ever held - he was the grandest of them all last semester after all.

Still is, considering you’ve been lying to Taehyung about him all summer. Not that you really had to lie. You just avoided mentioning Jungkook, staying vague about your semester while Taehyung told you everything about Paris. 

And so you end up saying goodbye to Nabi when she decides to go over to Yoongi and Namjoon’s apartment - Namjoon was quick to take Hoseok’s old room, seeking to leave the dorms once and for all - and you and Ria watch Demon Slayer, her favourite anime.

Coincidentally one of Jungkook’s favourite animes too, not that it matters.

You sigh - reminders of him are everywhere lately, and though you have been moving on over the summer, the ache has been revived. You wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he at home, watching anime or playing video games? Is he hanging out with Taehyung, with Jimin and their other friends? Or is he locked up in his room like he was all of Friday, before you fled the apartment?

It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Because Jungkook will always matter: he meant too much to you. Still does, and you don’t know what to make of it.

Ria sighs, pulling you out of your thoughts as the episode finishes. You glance at her - you’re lying side by side on her bed, a laptop in between you to watch the show.

“What’s wrong?” you ask her.

She purses her lips, shrugging, though it proves to be awkward considering the position. “I don’t know. It’s just… Is something wrong with me?”

A concerned crease appears between your eyebrows. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know…” She pauses, gaze still focused on the laptop screen as if she can’t bring herself to meet your own. “Why am I so opposed to relationships? To love in general?”

Oh. 

“Oh Ria…” you let out.

“Don’t,” she warns. “I don’t want to be pitied.”

You press your lips in a tight line, nodding once. She chuckles, and then she starts the next episode, like she needs a moment to collect her thoughts.

“It’s just…” she says as Tanjiro fights a demon, the fight continued from the last episode. “I’m aware that Seokjin would be good for me. I enjoyed spending time with him too. But the second he mentioned feelings…”

“It turned you off,” you complete for her.

She nods. “It really did.”

“Why do you think it did?” you ask, even though you know it has to be because of her ex.

She sighs deeply. “That’s the thing. I really don’t know. I had a loving family growing up, so I can’t blame it on that. I had friends too, good friends, but then when my ex cheated…”

“It broke the part of you that could trust easily,” you say. “And it’s understandable, and totally valid.”

“I guess so…” she trails off. “I just feel like letting someone in is too much of a vulnerability.”

“That makes sense,” you say. “You like being in control, and you feel like being in a relationship would make you lose control.”

She glances at you, eyes slightly narrowed. “Sometimes I swear to God you sound like a therapist.”

You laugh - it’s not the first time you’ve been told that. Yoongi said so last semester too, when you’d helped him get over Hoseok.

“Don’t ask me for advice though,” you say, scrunching up your nose. “I don’t think I’d have any good advice.”

“Not to be mean, but after what you put yourself through last semester, I don’t think your advice would be really helpful,” she teases.

You widen your gaze. “That was mean.”

She pouts, offering you puppy eyes. You push her on the shoulder, and she rolls on her back, laughing. “No, but seriously,” she says. “I don’t blame you. You fell in love, and that’s not your fault, is it?”

You remain silent, not wanting the conversation to turn to Jungkook. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes after a few seconds of silence. “You’re right, that was mean.”

“You’re not wrong, though,” you reassure her. “I saw all the red flags and chose to ignore them.”

Ria turns on her side again, facing you. “That’s love for you. Everyone ignores all the red flags the moment they start having feelings for someone else.”

Like Seokjin, but you don’t say it. You highly doubt she needs to hear it.

“Cheers to that,” you say, though you are void of any beverage at the moment.

You’ve left your water bottle on the floor, too far to reach from where you’re lying in bed.

“You know what we should do?” Ria says a while later, when the episode is coming to an end. “We should go to the party on Friday. The one Dave’s frat is hosting.”

The name Dave rings an extremely distant bell - you think you went to a party hosted by his frat last semester, but you’re not quite sure.

“I thought we were already planning to go.”

Ria looks at you, mischief slowly filling her gaze. “We should go and find some cute guys to forget about all of our problems with.”

You laugh. “Men aren’t the solution to everything, you know that, right?” you tease.

“Oof. They’re the root of the problem most of the time, I know.” She pauses, purses her lips. “But we’re due to have fun. You know Nabi and Namjoon will come for an hour or two and disappear anyway.”

“What about Yoongi?”

“We’ll find him someone too! He deserves it.” She nods, clearly convinced that her plan is the best she’s ever come up with.

And Yoongi does, you think that out of the three of you, he’s the one that deserves a healthy relationship the most. 

So you nod your head, saying, “It’s going to be lit.”

You can only hope that it is and that you don’t end up crying because of a certain doe-eyed man you should have let go of months ago.

Friday, September 6th  

[11:17 am] bröther👽: just letting you know that Gaby is in town so Ari will be staying with her [11:17 am] bröther👽: come home

The texts Taehyung sent to you in the morning sit unanswered on your phone. Mostly because you didn’t know what to say - he still firmly believes you’ve decided to move out because of Ariane, and you think it might have killed a possible friendship with her in the bud.

If only they knew why you truly left. It likely wouldn’t be any better - Jungkook would be dead in a ditch somewhere, and you’d be grounded by your older brother like you were when you were in high school.

You know Taehyung is likely only going to grow suspicious if you ignore him, but you really just don’t know what to say. He’s likely going to be at the party tonight - you’ll make an effort to speak to him, to reassure him, and then you’ll disappear with your friends.

That is, if Jeon Jungkook isn’t with him. Because if Jungkook’s there, you’ll avoid Taehyung like the plague, no matter if that might make him even more suspicious.

“I literally cannot physically wait,” Ria says next to you, and you shoot her a quick look as she puts mascara on.

She’s going all out tonight, and you wonder if it’s because Yoongi mentioned Kim Seokjin will be in attendance. Obviously, you don’t want to attract her ire, so you don’t say it, but you reckon Seokjin has been a ghost in every conversation since last Monday.

Much like Jungkook has been, but you’ve been good at pretending he hasn’t.

“I really hope they’ve stocked up on free alcohol,” you say, knowing you’ll need it, mostly because if Taehyung is in attendance, then Ariane will likely be, and so will Gabrielle. 

Your heart sinks in your chest at the thought - you haven’t told Ria, not wanting to ruin her enthusiasm. 

“Do you want to curl your hair?” Ria says as she finishes with the mascara. 

You shrug. “Nah, I think I’ll keep it natural,” you answer. “But you should curl yours.”

She narrows her gaze, staring at herself in the mirror. “You know what, yeah, I should.”

You chuckle, and then you both busy yourself getting ready. You apply more makeup than you usually do, only because you know it’ll be a mask you’ll use all evening.

Does Gabrielle even know about your existence?

You finish getting ready, stealing from Ria’s closet to get dressed. You settle on a pair of black leather pants, along with a black crop top t-shirt that hugs tight to your frame, revealing just an inch of the bird tattoo you got done on your right ribs in May.

You stare at the ink, thinking about Taehyung’s reaction. He’ll likely be pissed at you, but you’re done caring. If he wants to be mad, then so be it.

“Your ass looks amazing in this,” Ria compliments from behind you, and you snort as you turn to look at her.

She’s wearing a sage green corset that leaves little to the imagination. You compliment her in return, and she winks at you, before suggesting to down a couple of shots before leaving. You immediately agree, and you’ve got a light buzz by the time you leave the dorms, heading to the frat house.

It’s already crowded by the time you get there, the loud music having attracted all the party-goers on campus. The front lawn is cramped, and Ria grabs your hand, pulling you through the crowd to head to the house proper.

You make it to the hall, and luckily enough, there aren't as many people here. You’re able to navigate to the living room, where Dave - he really is the guy from last semester - finds you, offering drinks to the two of you.

You grab a beer, not trusting the questionable punch that Dave claims was prepared earlier today. Ria follows your lead, and you clink bottles with Dave, who admits he has no clue what’s in the punch when you’ve all taken your first sips.

“Bruh, why were you trying to sell it to us then?” Ria asks, eyebrows raised.

Dave laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Colton said it was good.” 

Colton… you wonder if it’s the same Colton that had warned you about Jungkook once.

“And we’re supposed to trust Colton?” Ria teases.

Dave winces. “Not really, no, he’s already drunk.”

Ria nods as you take a sip of your beer, the bitter liquid heady on your tongue. You turn your head to the side, noticing a very distraught Yoongi walking into the living room, followed close by an even more distraught Seokjin. You wave them over, and Ria and Dave both turn their heads towards the new arrivals.

You notice Ria tensing from the corner of your eye, and Seokjin looks just as uncomfortable as he stops next to you. You hug Yoongi hello, and he doesn’t let you go right away, whispering in your ear, “This place is a shitshow, I don’t think we’ll stay.”

You pout as you pull away. “We said beer pong,” you remind him.

He rolls his eyes, though you know he’s always liked playing beer pong. So you manage to convince him to go for at least one game, though you know you’ll have to wait in line for a while before it’s your actual time to play. It makes for an awkward waiting - Ria and Seokjin are both ignoring each other, and Yoongi and you are standing in the middle, trying to engage in conversation.

You’re finally on the side of the table when you recognize your brother’s laugh, a sound you were sort of hoping not to hear in this crowd. You look to your left - he’s by the garden doors that lead to the backyard, Ariane cuddled up against him, and you think the girl standing with her back to you has to be Gabrielle.

“Shit,” you let out.

Yoongi furrows his brow at the sudden curse. “What’s wrong?” You motion towards the door, and his eyes widen. “Is that who I think it is?”

He knows about Gabrielle. He’s stalked her with you, during one of your many downward spirals, and Gabrielle has that kind of aura that is all too recognizable, even if you’ve only seen her once in a picture.

“I think so,” you reply, and Ria finally leans in to join the conversation.

“Is that Gaby?” she asks, loud enough for the people around you to hear.

You tap her arm, giving her a warning glance, though you’re pretty sure no one’s actually listening. Even Seokjin didn’t glance towards you at the outburst.

But Taehyung notices you, and you quickly turn away, pretending to be focused on the game unfolding on the table in front of you. There’s one cup on the left, three on the other side, and the girls playing are clearly more talented than you: they both shoot it in the lone glass when their turn comes, hugging as they shriek in happiness from their victory.

“Let’s go,” Ria says, and she pulls you to one end of the table as soon as the girls have moved. 

Yoongi and Seokjin take the other side, even though Seokjin truly does appear like he wishes he wasn’t here, and you put the cups back into their spot, reorganizing the table.

Your brother appears next to you before you start, and you offer him a tight-lipped smile.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks. 

“Me?” you let out, your voice uncharacteristically high. “Nothing.”

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says through gritted teeth, the typical Kim temper flaring up.

You grab the neon orange ball Ria hands you, shrugging your shoulders. “I haven’t. Just been busy.”

He clenches his jaw, yet remains silent as you focus on the table, preparing for the first shot, the one that determines who between you and Ria or Yoongi and Seokjin will play first.

You’re against Yoongi, so you know you’ve already lost when you shoot. To your surprise, Yoongi misses, his ball bouncing off on the side of a cup. Yours flies way off the table, and you wince.

“That was trash,” Taehyung comments.

“Thanks,” you fire back.

Ria and Seokjin throw, and Ria surprisingly manages to get the shot. You clap your hands as she offers you a thumbs-up.

“Seriously though,” Taehyung asks, handing you the ball that Seokjin threw. “What’s wrong? Why did you move out?”

“Hold on,” you say. 

You take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety of his questioning away, and you throw. The ball stays on the table this time, bouncing right next to one of the cups.

“Honestly it’s just so that I can spend time with Ria,” you answer, motioning to your friend. “She’s going through shit.”

Ria tenses next to you, offering you a quick glare before she focuses on shooting, unfortunately missing the cups.

“Oh,” Taehyung lets out. “I thought it was because of Ari.”

Speaking of Ari, you don’t see her anywhere near. You wonder where she went off to - are you lucky enough that she and Gabrielle left the party?

“Not at all,” you reply, and then you focus on the game as Seokjin and Yoongi prepare to throw. They both make it into a cup, and you clink your almost empty beer with Ria’s, taking a long sip before you move the cups to the side. “Ari’s super sweet.”

“She’ll be relieved when I tell her so,” Taehyung admits. “She was saying she could leave if it was an issue with you that she moves in with us.”

“It really isn’t,” you reassure Taehyung, feeling momentarily guilty for making Ariane feel like that. “I’ll probably come back eventually too.”

Taehyung’s eyes light up. “That’d be sick. We need to start doing Taco Tuesdays again.”

Taco Tuesdays. You’d forgotten all about them last semester - you’d spent every Tuesday last fall eating tacos with Taehyung, Jungkook joining once in a while. It was a tradition you’d had growing up with your mother too - when she wasn’t too busy working.

“I’m down,” you reply, and you get ready to throw.

To your surprise, you make the shot, landing it in the first cup at the front. Ria throws hers, and it bounces on the rim of one of the glasses before Seokjin catches it expertly. 

“Is Jungkook coming tonight?” you ask.

Everything stills inside of you. You don’t even know why you asked - you didn’t even think about it before the question fell. But then again, you think it makes sense that Jungkook would invade your thoughts now. 

When does he not?

Ria throws you a curious look at the question, though you don’t miss the disapproval in the furrow of her brows. 

“JK?” Taehyung says, as if he wasn’t sure. “I don’t think so. He says he wants to focus on college this semester.”

You nod curtly, getting ready to defend your cups as Seokjin and Yoongi throw. To your luck, they both miss, and you let Ria shoot first as you focus on Taehyung again.

“Makes sense now that he has to work for his father’s company, no?” you say, trying to sound as if you don’t care.

As if Jungkook is not the center of your universe, still to this day.

“I guess so,” Taehyung comments, and you throw, entirely missing the table again.

Ria lands hers in a cup though, which leaves four cups in front of the boys and three in front of you and Ria.

“I still can’t believe the motherfucker is rich and he never told us,” Taehyung adds.

You get the feeling. You still think New York was a fever dream - even more so now that you’ve lost Jungkook. The thought makes your heart ache in your chest, and it trickles down your body, burning all along the way.

“It’s crazy,” you let out, and it sounds just as flat as you feel - like maybe your heart just flatlined in your chest.

Taehyung makes a non-committal sound, and you’re able to focus on the rest of the game without any interruption. You evidently end up losing to Seokjin and Yoongi, and you shake hands with the boys, congratulating them for their win, even though you’d all expected it. 

“I’ll go get something to drink,” Taehyung says when you finally glance his way again. “Stay away from the punch.”

And then he leaves, and you mimic him as he walks away, raising your middle finger to his back. Ria snorts next to you, and you laugh along with her.

“He’s making me want to have some of the punch,” she says, and you laugh harder.

“Hard pass,” Seokjin says, and Ria stiffens next to you. “I tasted it, and it tastes like piss.”

“Wouldn’t even be surprised if someone pissed in it,” Yoongi says. “This party is…”

“Juvenile?” you provide.

Ria laughs, though it sounds a little forced. “It’s fun, stop.”

She sounds just as unconvinced as you think she seems, yet you all don’t mention it, which you reckon happens a lot around her lately. 

“I think we’ll head out,” Yoongi says after a few seconds. “Want to have a beer back at my place?”

“And disturb the lovebirds?” Ria answers. “No thank you.”

Indeed, Namjoon and Nabi chose to stay in tonight, and you don’t have to use a lot of brain power to imagine what they might be doing right now, when they finally have full privacy in the apartment.

“Right,” Yoongi lets out. He winces, then shrugs his shoulders. “Guess we’re stuck here for a couple of hours, then.”

He says that in Seokjin’s direction, who runs a hand on his forehead before nodding. “Can we at least go outside?”

“Sure. You girls coming?” Yoongi asks, motioning to the backyard.

Ria doesn’t even wait for you to reply, instead tugging you towards the garden doors. You stop her, glancing over your shoulder. “I actually really have to pee, but I’ll join you guys outside?”

She narrows her gaze in suspicion, and you furrow your brows. She leans in, whispering, “Are you trying to leave me alone with Seokjin?”

You snort. “Not at all,” you reply, patting her hand on your arm. “I genuinely am just about to pee myself. You know how I am with beer.”

She fake-gags, and you playfully push her as she bursts out laughing. “Ayt, we’ll be outside.” 

You wave them goodbye, and Seokjin awkwardly waves back before following Yoongi and Ria. You chuckle at the sight before heading to the bathroom, which you think is probably on the second floor.

So you make it towards the staircase you see in the corner, squeezing through the crowd and apologizing all the way, though most people are too drunk to even notice you. You successfully make it to the staircase, and you walk around the group of girls sitting on the steps, making it to the second floor unscathed. 

“Bathroom?” a guy who clearly looks like he belongs to the frat asks you.

You almost startle at the unexpected question, though you recover quickly, nodding your head. 

“Last door on the left,” he tells you. “I think someone’s in there right now though.”

“Should I not wait then?” you ask.

He chuckles. “From what I saw when I exited it was just one girl alone so, you should be good.”

“Thanks,” you answer, offering him a small smile, and he nods once before heading down the stairs, though he quickly realizes that it might be too big of a feat. He indeed just plops down on the stairs, striking up a conversation with the girls there.

They look like they know him, so you walk away, heading to the last door on the left. You lean against the wall outside, pulling your phone out of your pocket. 

No notifications greet you, so you push it back into your pocket, right as the door unlocks, and then opens.

You freeze, just as much as she does. Both of your gazes widening, until she lets out a small, “Hello”, the word heavy with a French accent.

Of course, the girl in the bathroom had to be Gabrielle.

“Hi,” you reply, and you try to smile, though you’re not sure it works.

“You’re Taehyung’s sister, aren’t you?” she asks.

You nod curtly. “The one and only.”

She smiles. “Thought so.” There’s a pause as she doesn’t move from the doorway, and you just wait, awkwardness filling every inch of you. 

Her next sentence throws you off the axis you’ve been spinning on for months now, and you just stare at her in disbelief. 

“You’re not with Jungkook tonight?” she asks.

You feel hot and cold at the same time, your heart rate picking up uncomfortably in your chest. Your palms turn clammy, and you wouldn’t be surprised if sweat appeared on your temples.

“I’m sorry, what?”

She frowns. “I thought Ari said…” she trails off, and then she shrugs her shoulders. “Whatever.” She smiles gently. “I’m happy he’s got you now.”

You think your eyes are bulging out of your head. They have to - the conversation isn’t making any sense, and you aren’t drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol.

“What?”

Her frown reappears. “Aren’t you two dating now?”

You laugh. It’s a sad, pathetic laugh, and Gabrielle looks at you like you’re crazy.

“He cheated on me with you,” you say. “Why would I be dating him?”

The frown falls, replaced by utter surprise. Her mouth opens on a silent ‘Oh’, like she wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say. It takes her a few seconds to collect herself, and then she says, “Non mais putain qu’il est con.”

You don’t speak French, so all you can do is cock an eyebrow quizzically. And then she lets out a small disbelieving laugh, shaking her head.

“I told him to tell you,” she says, and she closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose. “But he’s really stupid sometimes.”

“I’m sorry?”

She offers you a small smile bordering on pity, and you brace yourself for what she’ll say next.

“Fille, I’m gay,” she says. “Jungkook was always only pretending to be my boyfriend so my family wouldn’t know. I didn’t know about you when I kissed him in Paris, and I only kissed him because Ari was growing suspicious.” 

You think you’re frozen in place. Like, stared into Medusa’s eyes and turned to stone frozen in place. All you can do is stare at Gabrielle, unblinkingly, as her words spin round and round in your head, caught in a dizzying tornado you can’t follow.

“I told him to tell you,” she repeats, and she sounds far too apologetic for the erratic beating of your heart. For the realization that she just hit you with.

You think she hit harder than a physical slap would have.

“What?” you say, voice small and weak and oh so broken.

Months. You’ve been breaking for him for months… and for what? For a promise he refused to break, one that would have explained everything in a way that would have made you work.

You would have forgiven him, no hesitation. Hell, you reckon you would have told him you loved him, would have told him you wanted to be with him from now on until you turn to dust.

But he had to choose to respect a promise he made years ago, to an ex that wasn’t really an ex after all, was she?

Just a friend from high school.

She was, after all, just a friend from high school.

She nods. “Yeah. He told me all about you.” She smiles again, though this time it’s just sad, like she knows just how shattered you are over this man. “I was rooting for you two.”

“He didn’t tell me,” you whisper as if Gabrielle hadn’t already pieced that together. “Why?”

She sighs. “He’s stupid,” she says as an explanation. “He’s the kind that’ll sacrifice himself if it means helping someone else. I suppose you know that already.”

You nod, because you do.

He sacrificed himself for you last semester when you got home crying on Valentine’s Day. And he sacrificed countless parties over his promise to Taehyung to look after you.

And he sacrificed you to protect Gabrielle’s secret.

“Holy shit,” you let out.

“Talk to him,” she says softly. “Go talk to him now. I’m not letting him lose you over me.” She scoffs, the frown she’d sported earlier returning. “I should have realized before. That he didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

Your gaze widens, and you shake your head no. “Oh, no, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

It’s not your fault if he broke my heart.

It’s always just been his fault, hasn’t it?

But then again… you know now. You know that he never cheated on you, that he was right when he was saying that it wasn’t what you thought it was. 

You know that he was there, with you. That he felt for you what you felt for him, that he was chasing cars around your head, too.

And if there’s a chance you can salvage that, repair two hearts in one stone, you know you have to do it.

“I have to talk to him.” You say the words with quiet conviction, and Gabrielle nods, offering you an encouraging smile. “Fuck.”

“Go to him, fille,” Gabrielle says. “And tell him he’s an enfoiré for me.”

You highly doubt you’d be able to repeat that word, yet you still say, “Will do.”

And then you take off, entirely forgetting that you had to pee. You have one goal in mind, and it’s to run home, where you know he has to be according to what Taehyung said. You don’t even stop to text him, to confirm that he really is.

No, you run down the stairs, through the crowd and outside. The front lawn isn’t as crowded as earlier, and you easily make it to the sidewalk, skidding to a halt just long enough to change direction. 

And then you’re running home. Running home to him, your heart beating wildly. For the right reason this time. And as you run, lungs struggling to get enough oxygen in, thighs burning with heat, you feel infinite. You feel like you’re a star in the sky above, or maybe the moon returning to her lover. You feel like a bird soaring high, like a dolphin riding the waves.

You feel young and old and small and big, all at once. Like nothing is ever going to stop you again. You feel in love, you are in love, and after all the months of suffering, you reckon it’s the most beautiful feeling you’ve ever experienced.

You didn’t know you could sprint like you are right now, yet even though your body is straining, you’re not slowing down. You’ve pulled your phone out of your pocket to make sure it doesn’t fall as you run, yet you don’t slow down.

You can’t slow down anymore, not when your gravity finally aligned with his again.

Like it was always meant to be. Because it’s always been meant to be you and him, hasn’t it?

You make it home in a record time, climbing up the stairs… only to realize you don’t have your keys. They are back at the dorms, but it’s too late.

You try the door, and to your surprise, the doorknob turns, and you barge into your home, barge into this life with him.

You catch your breath as you stop in the hall, doubling over when you realize you’ve actually ran - sprinted - for nearly a mile. You’re lucky the frat house wasn’t further away - you highly doubt you would have made it home if it was any further.

“Y/n?” Jungkook says from his bedroom.

You straighten, trying to catch your breath. And the second your eyes land on him, you know it was all worth it.

Every single second of suffering was worth it to be here with him tonight.

“Jungkook,” you say in between two heaving breaths.

He’s shirtless, his honey skin just as warm as you remember it to be. He’s in fact only wearing grey joggers, and his hands are lost in his pockets like he’s trying to look nonchalant.

The concern on his features tells you he, as a matter of fact, isn’t as nonchalant as he’s trying to appear.

“Shit,” you let out. “Jungkook.”

“Yes?”

You laugh. You know you might look crazy, but you literally just ran a mile for this man, and each foot was worth it. 

The grandest journey of your life, wasn’t it?

“She told me,” you say.

He cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“Gabrielle told me everything.” You surprise yourself by blinking away tears, and you let out a small laugh as you go to dry them.

Jungkook remains silent, just staring at you with horror slowly inching into his gaze. You don’t know how, or why, but it only occurs to you then that he might not be alone right now. 

“Kook?” you whisper, unable to say it louder.

Not when you’re slowly crashing down from the high.

“Y/n, I…” he trails off. He closes his eyes, head hanging low. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

You gulp as you swallow. “Yeah, huh.”

You look down, noticing a pair of sneakers you’ve never seen before.

It takes all of the courage you can muster up to look back up when the door of the bathroom opens, revealing a dishevelled Lisa, in only a t-shirt you recognize all too well.

You’d used to sleep in that t-shirt, too.

Lisa sees you after you see her, turning beet red. She’s naked under Jungkook’s shirt, or at least you think she is.

You assume she is considering that he’s shirtless too.

“Oh,” you let out.

Choke out might be a more appropriate word. Because you’re crashing, and you’re crashing hard. Hitting the wall at 120 mph, splattering on it until there’s nothing left of you. Nothing left of that hope you’d found at the party, the hope Gabrielle had so kindly gifted you even though she owed you nothing.

Someone’s screaming. You think someone’s screaming - is it just in your head?

“Hey, Y/n,” Lisa says awkwardly. “Didn’t know you were here.”

“I live here,” you reply, voice empty of any emotion.

She purses her lips, nodding once, and then she hesitantly walks out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry I… I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

Neither did you. Neither did Jungkook - it would have saved everyone a whole lot of breaking if you’d known. 

If you’d known that having hope for Jeon Jungkook was futile and useless. 

How could you even think you were meant to be with him? There is no universe for you and him out there. Just different worlds of breaking. Because it’s all your soul knows how to do - all your soul knows is to break for him, to shatter and crash and fracture for the man standing in front of his opened bedroom door.

“No worries,” you say, though this time your voice does wobble.

This time, the pain does colour your tone in heartbreak blue.

Jungkook just remains silent, like he’s suddenly gone mute. You think it’s better like this - if he were to say anything right now, you think you’d likely break down here. Instead, you take a deep breath, pat your pockets and say, “I think I forgot my keys at the party.”

Unable to help yourself, you glance towards Jungkook once. He meets your gaze - he looks infinitely pained, the heartbreak stark on his features too. There’s some reassurance in knowing that he’s breaking, too. That you’re doing it together. 

Heartbreak isn’t as lonely when you’re doing it together. 

“How did you…” Lisa trails off, but she doesn’t finish.

She falls silent, clearly hearing the screaming in your head too.

You’re outside a second later, carefully closing the door behind you. Carefully severing the rest of your relationship with Jungkook, until all that is left is the memories.

You take a step back, looking at the door, thinking he might open, might come see you.

Thinking he might be your home after all.

But he doesn’t, the door staying stubbornly closed. You get the message - your souls were never meant to merge. The songs that you thought were about him, about you, about the two of you together, they were never about you. You were never meant to lie down and forget the world with him. 

Or maybe you were, but it came with an expiration date.

You reckon you and Jungkook have always had an expiration date. You just forgot tonight, became blind to it thanks to false, treacherous hope. And so you leave, walking down the stairs as you blink away the tears that are clinging to your waterline.

You embrace the heartbreak, let it sweep through you until you think it’s all you’ve ever known. And like a true companion, the heartbreak carries your steps through the night.

Prev | Chapter 13.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

do I feel bad for the amount of angst I wrote into this story? Maybe a little. I promise one day things will get better for these two, but in the meantime, what did you guys think?

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[lulunothulu]

“Talking to the moon”

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: After missing the flight meant to mend your relationship, Tyler is left with anxiety. Thinking you’re planning on breaking up with him, Tyler tries his best to reach you—even talking to the moon.

Inspired by this post and “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars 💗💗 @hunterthecharmer this one is for you.

He felt miserable.

Every time he tried to distract himself from that argument, he felt like the weight of the world was falling on his chest.

It’d been almost a few days since Tyler had last seen and spoken to you and he was absolutely dying to hear from you.

You must’ve been so angry at him. Especially after he’d accidentally missed the plane that was meant to take you both on vacation.

You’d both been arguing about anything and everything for the past couple of weeks before the actual day of the flight.

“Tyler,” you’d say. “Why can’t we just have a weekend? Just one, for ourselves?”

“You know I can’t baby,” he’d tell you, watching as your face grew hard. “There’s a huge tornado that’s supposed to hit and I have to be here to document it.”

“You don’t have to, you want to.” You spat.

He’d watch as you’d shake your head and walk away and then feel like he’s whole world was spinning.

Tyler knew you were right, but he couldn’t help himself. Chasing had become like a drug to him, addicting and overpowering.

That’s why he vowed to give you that weakened trip you’d been begging for. He’d booked a trip to Nashville for the weekend, thinking it would be a great way to get away from everything.

Except, when the day to catch the flight came along a beautiful F3 tornado decided to make its way into a town an hour away.

“Tyler I swear to god if you go,” you started. “I will leave and you’ll regret it.”

“Baby,” Tyler breathed. “It’s an F3! It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to—”

“You know what,” you interrupted. “Just go. If you’re not in the airport and on the plane by the time we have to leave, just know I will not be happy with you.”

Tyler kisses your forehead, smiling before promising he’ll be on the plane.

———

“Boone, get a shot of that!” Tyler yells, happily smiling up at the cyclone before them.

Boone points the camera toward the tornado, whooping loudly and excitedly. “Look at the beaut, folks!”

Tyler anchors the truck to the ground, smiling and then adjusting his harness. He turns to Boone and smiles before asking, “You ready to shoot some rockets, Boonie?”

Boone beans at Tyler before whooping again as the tornado passes over them, rockets flying up and swirling around along with the debris in the tornado.

“Whoooo! That was somethin’ wasn’t it?” Tyler says to the camera.

Boone smiles, “That was the best one yet, Ty!”

“Alright, Boone,” Tyler starts. “Let’s get back so I can finish packing.”

By the time Tyler got back to the house and then to the airport, he’d missed his flight.

“Fuck!” He muttered to himself. You were going to be pissed.

———

“Tyler, what the actual fuck?” You whisper-screamed.

You’d just landed in Nashville and were walking toward the rental car station, suitcase in tow and anger flaring.

You couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. You weren’t surprised, though. This wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten something important.

There was your third anniversary dinner that you’d spent all day preparing, his own birthday, when your parents came into town…you could list more, but your were pissed enough.

“Baby I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I’ll be on the next flight there, just give me a few hours.”

“No, Tyler. Don’t bother coming,” you tell him, tears pricking your eyes and anger turning into pure disappointment.

You felt like you were breaking. Every inch of your heart wanted to explode in hurt, eyes wanting to give in and cry—but you willed yourself not to.

You wouldn’t be the person crying in an airport.

“I’ll see you next Monday,” you tell him, hanging up and turning your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’.

Once in your rental car, you let the tears come. They spill down your cheeks, almost blinding your vision.

How could he do this? He was the one that set everything up!

You knew he’d never change and that’s what hurt you the most. You’d asked for three days. THREE DAYS. And he couldn’t even give you them.

Grief and pain washed over you and by the time you reached the hotel, you were exhausted and feeling the depression hit you hard.

You checked in, grabbed your hotel key, and then made your way upstairs.

The room was beautiful. A view of all of Nashville, the city lights started to illuminate into the room like the moon back home would.

You wished Tyler was there.

He could’ve been there had he not missed his flight.

Tears prick your eyes again but you blink them away.

Just because Tyler want there, didn’t mean you couldn’t attempt to have a good time.

Tomorrow, things would be better.

———

Tyler trudged back into y’all’s house, suitcase being thrown to the side as he angrily closed the front door.

How could he have forgotten? What kind of an asshole forgets he planned a romantic getaway and then not even show up to the airport?

Tyler wasn’t much of a crier, but right now he couldn’t help but cry.

He was so angry at himself. Angry that he let you down…again. He knew this wasn’t a first time thing. He knew this was grounds for a break up and by god did he deserve it.

He’d acted like an asshole and despite his lack of trying, he’d become the asshole of all assholes.

He wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands before walking to y’all’s room. Your side of the bed was strew with clothes you’d decided to leave, some makeup products scattered on top.

Tyler gently picked up one of your dresses, smiling down sadly at the material before pressing it to his face and sniffing the lingering scent your sweet perfume.

Tears pick up again as he holds the dress close to his body.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” he cried softly. “Please don’t leave me.”

Tyler’s shoulders shook as he sobbed, holding your dress before grabbing one of your shirts from the bed and pressing it close to his body. He’d broken your heart and yet, he feels like the one who’s broken.

He should’ve payed attention to the time. He should’ve just stayed home in stead of going chasing today.

He should’ve tried harder.

Sniffling his tears away and then laying your clothes on the bed again, Tyler walks to the balcony door in the back of the room. He swings the door open and leans on the railing, sighing to himself.

“Maybe I should try to call her,” he thinks out loud.

Tyler pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing your number but frowning when you send him straight to voicemail. He tries again, frown growing when you send him to voicemail again.

“Hi you’ve reached…”

God damnit.

“Baby,” he whispers after the beep of your voicemail, looking up at the moon. “Please forgive me. Answer the phone.”

He takes a deep breath, still looking up at the white moon before him.

“The moon looks lonely tonight,” he continues. “It’s the same moon we always look up at but without you here, it feels different.”

He sighs, choking back a sob.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers again. “Please, please, call me back.”

That’s how Tyler ended his night for the next few days. By the time Monday rolled around, he knew he had to go get you from the airport.

To say he was scared was an understatement. Tyler was petrified. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into when you get off that plane.

You’d just texted him that you were waiting at baggage claim and Tyler’s hands were sweating as they gripped the steering wheel.

He’s brought a bouquet of flowers in hopes that it will soften the blow. But as soon as he walked into baggage claim and made eye contact with you, something in the air shifted. 

———

You texted Tyler you were getting your bags with a sigh. You’d ignored all of his texts and calls the past few days and now that you were home, all you wanted to do was hear Tyler’s voice.

You felt like shit. Hair in a messy bun at the nape of your neck and clothed in leggings and one of Tyler’s sweatshirts, you make your way through baggage claim and retrieve your bag before turning toward the exit to see a disheveled Tyler walking your way.

Tyler’s eyes were rimmed red, hair messy and face scruffier than usual. In one hand, he held a bouquet of flowers, the other was twiddling with the hem of his black shirt.

It felt almost like a movie. As soon as Tyler’s eyes met yours, all the anger you felt toward him disappeared. Nothing but worry and love remained in your heart as you quickly made your way toward him.

“Tyler,” you whisper when you finally reach him.

“Baby,” he chokes out.

He looks ready to cry any second so you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, brushing the soft part of his neck and burying your face into him.

When he wraps his arms around your waist, you feel his shoulders relax and then shake.

“I’m so sorry,” he quietly says, his tears trickling down your cheek.

You pull away enough to face him, brows knitted together and wipe his eyes.

“Please don’t cry, Tyler,” you tell him. “It was an honest mistake.”

“I’ve been terrible to you and I see that now,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have forgotten about the flight. I should’ve—”

You stop him with a kiss, deep and full of forgiveness and love. When you pull away, you smile up at him.

“Tyler, I know how you are,” you tell him. “Let’s just start fresh. Okay?”

Tyler eagerly nods, kissing you again before letting you go and grabbing your suitcase. “Let’s get home.”

“Wait,” you stop him, grabbing a snow globe you picked up from one of the Nashville shops. “I got you this.”

In the small globe sits a man playing a guitar while looking up at a moon.

“I talked to the moon,” you start. “It said I should forgive you so I figured this would be a nice gift to symbolize that.”

Tyler’s eyes tear up before he kisses your forehead and says, “I love it. And I love you.”

“Good, be use I love you too.”

This took me two days to write because I couldn’t work out how to end it and I STILL don’t truly like it so I’m sorry 😭 check out my Masterlist for more fics!!! 🫶🏼

[mrsrdlw]

My valentine

Summary: You and your best friend found a way to get away from all the valentine’s day by doing your own program. But, being alone for a long time only meant you two were horny and needy for affection.

wc: 3.3k (i got a little excited writing it, sorry)

warnings: friends to lovers; smut!!! +18 please (you’re responsible for yourself babe, but i warned you); fluff; masturbation (m!reciving); inexperienced!femreader. Tell if something is missing.

authors note: I know i’m a little late with valentines thing but i couldn’t help myself. I really liked the result and i hope you do too. It’s a new thing writing smutty things but i hope it’s not terrible. <3

*update*- i just posted a part two!

**********

It was valentine’s day and you felt like you were the loneliest person in the world. Everyone was with their partners when you were all by yourself. Of course you were being dramatic but you were tired of having to pretend that it was okay to be single because you don’t needed a boy to make you happy. But you wanted to.

The same thing happened to your best friend. Eddie was all by himself. He was never the guy the girls would die for. They were too scared to see how pretty he was. But he also had been feeling kind of alone. He would walk in the market and see all the decorations he hated so much. Not only in school, everywhere, people would be all over each other. He always hated valentine’s day but he never knew that was because of his jealousy and would always blame in the capitalism and its ways to persuade people.

As you both would be alone, to distract you from thinking about couples making out, you created your own thing. You would go at each other’s house to watch movies together, eat junk food and talk about stuff. For two years you’ve been doing this and this year was your time being a host. At this time, you got lucky your parents weren’t home for the week. In the first year, you brought Eddie home and your mom kept asking non stop questions about him and how did you finally realized you were made for each other.

“You’re late.” You opened the door for him, taking the boxes off his hands.

“I’m sorry my lady, is my butler work not good enough for you?” He said in a english accent mocking you. “There was a lot of people ordering pizzas too. They copied our idea.”

“Fine. I just took the cookies out of the oven.” You pointed to the baking sheet “What movies did you pick?”

“Well, let’s see.There is the movie you asked for with the cats”

“Did you take the right one? Or just some movie about a cat?”

“Is the Disney one, right? The Aristocats? I got this one, nightmare on elm street and fast times at ridgemont high.” Eddie only took this last one because Steve said ’there’s some very interesting scenes about a girl, if you know what i mean’. Of course Eddie knew the girl’s titties would show up, he’d never watched it because he thought it would be a shitty movie. “If i want to see boobs i’ll just watch porn or i’ll buy a magazine” he would say. But he really thought about it and that would be the only way to make you watch something like that with him.

Once he asked if girls watched porn and you just ignored the question. He wanted to see your reaction and he knew you would never watch something like that, let alone with a guy. It would be the closest thing to porn you’d watch.

Also it was a secret to no one that he had a little massive crush on you. Maybe it was a secret only for you. Eddie don’t even know when did it started. One day you were just a girl who he was friends with but suddenly you were much more then that. You were hot, interesting, cute, smart and he couldn’t help but be enamored with you. But he never did anything to change that, to afraid of making you run away from him. To him, in that situation, your relationship as friends was more important. He wouldn’t stand to lose you. So he buried his feelings deep down and pretended it that never happened.

“Eddie it’s not Halloween. We’re not watching that, you know i can’t sleep afterwards.”

“Alright, no horror movies” He discarded the movie

“So is gonna be aristocats and this other movie. Is this even good? I never saw it.” Of course you saw it. Since Dustin told you guys his girlfriend was a hotter version of Phoebe Cates you had to. You scolded him after.

“It was on the recommendation board so we’ll have to trust in that”

********

Eddie had never seen the Disney movie before. It was for kids but you always loved it since you were a little kid. And if you loved, he’d watch it for you (he would not admit but he loved it too). There you were in the second movie. You had seen it two years ago so you were focused on the movie. But with that, you forgot about the boobs

“Oh…” Your cheeks got red. Seeing that by yourself was ok. But right by Eddie’s side, you got embarrassed and tried not to look at the tv in front of you. In the meantime, he was looking at you to see your reaction.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen” He said trying to sound like he was surprised

“Don’t worry, i see this every day.”

Eddie didn’t payed attention in the movie anymore. Were you talking about porn?

When the movie ended you went to bed and Eddie came with you. Being friends for a long time made you so accustomed to be around each other that now you would insist that he would sleep with you in your bed and not on the couch.

He would not sleep if he kept the question to himself. He had to ask.

“Good night Eds. Thanks for today. It was really nice!”

“Sure sweetheart, i had a good time too!”

And the place got quiet. It was now or never.

“Hey… can i ask you something?”

You just hummed

“Well… Earlier, when we were watching the movie you said that you would see it everyday when we saw the girl’s titties. With that do you… you know, d’ya mean you see boobs everyday in like, porn?”

“What? Why would you say that?” You said looking at his face even though the room was dark

“I don’t know why it just came in my head like, come on!”

“Eddie… i’m a girl. I see them everyday because i have them. Just like every woman. Go sleep, will ya.”

Eddie don’t know if that make it better or worse. Not that he didn’t know you had boobs. Of course you had. But now, you had boobs, you’d watch them and everything came to Eddie as a movie. Or as a dream in witch it really did. Right by your side, in your bed, in your house. Eddie had a wet dream about you. I wasn’t the first time. But it was in you house, close to you. Till then, he was sleeping and his mind was working on making him hard by the images of you touching your boobs while you were fucked by him.

You had woken up first, not realizing his morning wood, you went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to take a glass of water and came back. But now he’d moved and, in his sweatpants, his “situation” was pretty obvious.

That scared the shit out of you. What would you do? Should you go back to sleep? Or try to pretend you never saw it. You weren’t a boy, but that seemed to be very uncomfortable. Suddenly you got hot. Seeing his dick poking out in his pants, his bare torso shown by his shirt that was lifted up. His wild hair that framed his face. Of course you knew you had feelings for Eddie, but you never did anything to let him know. It was a secret only for you and you only. You couldn’t do anything about your best friend. Even if he had a boner and got you all worked up.

He started to move around and to wake up when he saw you sitting on the bed and looking at the ceiling. Before saying anything he felt it. “Holy fuck!” that’s what he thought. He started to panic. Did you saw it. Would he be fast enough to run to the bathroom and try to work on it. “No, you shithead, you can’t jerk in her bathroom”

You realize his movements and looked at him. You knew that he knew you knew. Now the blanket were covering him.

“Mornin” He said casually and you nodded you head, trying not to lend your eyes on his cock to see if you could still see his bulge. “You saw it, right?”

“Saw what? I-I just woke up!” You said a little to fast “I mean, i barely opened my eyes and- yeah, i saw it.” you stopped when you saw his expressions getting amused. If you already saw it, there wasn’t a reason to be concerned anymore.

“Don’t worry, that happens sometimes” he said as if he didn’t have any dreams. It was just normal

“What? Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah, sort of…” He said remembering you in his dream and resisting the urge to touch his cock

“Can’t you like, turn it off or something”

He laughed at you face. You were getting more and more uncomfortable and in the same time, a bit horny. “It’s not like the tv we watched last night. You can’t turn it off.”

“But…” You saw his face. He was looking at you “I don’t get it”

“Well, i don’t know how to explain it” He tried to sound confident about it “It’s like when your nipples get hard when you women get cold. It not a thing you control” That part was true. He couldn’t control his dick or his mind so he wouldn’t find you attractive.

“But it seems to be painful” You said looking at him getting up.

“It is a little. I’ll go to the bathroom to try to ‘turn it off’” He said giggling

“Wait Eddie!” He turned to you and now you could see how big he was. Even with his pants, it was visible. “You don’t have to do it by yourself. Can i do something? Like, can i help you?”

Eddie froze in place. He would go take a cold shower and have thoughts about random things that wasn’t you. He was not going to masturbate in there. Was he still dreaming?

“Sorry! Oh i’m so so sorry. I don’t know what i was thinking about” You regret when you saw how his face got to serious.

“No no no. Don’t be sorry. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He sat again looking at you cover your face “I mean, we’re friends. Last time i checked, friends don’t usually give a handy to other friends.”

“I’m so fucking stupid and embarrassingly alone that i let this stupid date get in my mind. I don’t know…”

“Were you willing to do it? For real?” He was really curious to know if you would jerk him off. That had to mean something, right?

“I’m sorry, it’s fucking crazy!” Hugging your knees, you looked at him and forced your arms to open

“Come on, don’t be so harsh. Were you?”

You nodded to scared of his reactions to your horny attitudes

“I thought you were virgin and said you were inexperienced in everything”

“It can’t be that hard” You whispered and looked at his eyes. Those pleading eyes that were begging to go back in time but were just reassuring Eddie that the shower would not ‘turn it off’ anymore.

“What if i said i wanted you to do it, huh? Would that be to weird?”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. Now he was asking you to do it. Was it to weird? Maybe a little, but only because you never did it before and because it was your best friend.

“I don’t know Eddie… I think you just as crazy as me” He laughed at that

“I might be a little. But it’s a good thing” You were feeling more comfortable now. It was your Eddie again and not some guy you had a crush on. “I know what you’re thinking. But, don’t you think i never wondered how would it be to kiss you? You are the most amazing friend i could have and with that comes this feeling too. But i don’t want to lose you. You’re to important for me”

“You too. Honestly i’d be lost without you. But i also wonder how would it be, you know…”

You kept looking at him and he did the same. You were making sure that it was the right thing to do. The he closed the gap between you two. Bodies bonding and connecting to each other. Your lips were so soft. Eddie was sure he was in his dream now. His hands that before was holding your face, now went to your back, caressing your waist. And your hands ran from his shoulders to his hair, tugging some locks of it and making him groan.

Things heated up and he pulled you to his lap. His bulge was now touching your crotch. With his hands on your waist, he took advantage of that and encouraged you to move back and forth making you feel so good. The friction was perfect. His lips were perfect. The way he was kissing you like he waited his whole life for it. Separating to breathe, you leaned on him, your foreheads touching, but your movements continued slightly.

“For a very inexperienced girl, you’re a hell of a kisser. Damn, are you sure you’re telling the truth?” He said panting with his eyes closed and his lips curled to a smile. You smiled back

“Yeah, i assure you. Don’t make me feel like i’m too good though. I’m gonna get too cocky.”

“Tell that to him” He pressed you down on him and, once again, you felt his hard dick. ‘How can it be so hard?’ you thought

“Can i take of your pants?” you asked a little scared

“Sure thing, sweetheart” He was smiley. He helped you to take it off and wow. You were a little shocked. It was big. You thought about it for a second and you honestly thought he was not average.

“Can i say something too?” He nodded while he pulled you back to him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but i just wanted to tell you so you don’t have any expectations. I don’t even know if you have any-” You were talking super fast, Eddie had to shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry. I was saying that, i think i still need some time, you know, if you want to have actual sex.”

“It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here”

“But i really wanted to do this. To help you here.” You said running your hand from his chest to his lower belly and his cock twitched. You wasn’t expecting that to happen “Is this normal” He nodded and giggled

“Are you sure you want to do it? You know, i’m not proud to say it, but have jerked off before. Plenty of times actually. If you’re not comfortable doing it, it’s not a problem for me to do it by myself.” It was melting your heart in the way he was talking to you. Caring about you.

“Yes i am! I’m just… insecure about it. I don’t know how to-.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how, alright?” It was you time to nod you head. “A’right then. First thing, we need it to be wet, so you’ll have to spit on you hand.”

You hesitated but gathered a good amount of saliva on your mouth and spited on your hand.

“That’s right. Very good. Now you can wrap your hand around it” You just didn’t know where to. Was he talking about the tip or the base. You went for the tip.

Groaning low, he cleared his throat “Good girl. Now you can just make some circles around the tip and then go down.” You did what you were told to and that seemed to work. Your foreheads, that were glued to this time, separated a little before he came back. Both of you looking at your hand moving around his red tip leaking pre cum.

“Is that normal?”

“It means it’s fucking good” Even his voice changed. It was getting rougher and lower.

“Can you guide me a little. I’m scared i’ll squeeze you too hard” you said and his hand wrapped around yours.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s better when is tight. I’ll let you know if it’s to much” He let you do it by yourself when you got the right rhythm and grip.

Your hand were moving tightly up and down. You didn’t know if it was there before, you didn’t notice because you were to focus, but his hands were squeezing your tights hard. You could feel your panties getting soaked. How come you were excited by jerking him off.

More of the liquid you saw before came out and you ran your thumb over it. He let out a moan that rambled inside you body.

“Can you, please, go a little faster than that” And that’s what you did. The moan you heard was the first of many others that came along. You had gathered, again, more saliva and thought that it would be nice to be even wetter than it was. So you separated a little from him, looking at his confused eyes trying to read you. You separated enough to bend down and to spit on it again, looking at his eyes roll back, throwing his head back. You came back to your position, proud that you did something good without him telling you.

Your movements got faster than before and he, restless panting, kissed you. You wanted to make him cum hard. So you separated the kiss, kept up the speed, flashing him your boobs. That was the final push for Eddie.

The way he grabbed you and moan at your ear was insanely hot. You watched ropes of cum come of his dick. Your hand were now with white and sticky cum.

“Holy fucking shit!” He panted for the last time and let go of his grip on you. “Are you really sure you’re inexperienced?”

“I might’ve heard some advice about it from some friends” You said getting out of his lap, but he stopped you

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve been up here for a while, i don’t want to hurt your legs. Besides, my hand is a little dirty.” He laughed a little

“Let’s clean up and come back here then.”

That’s what you did. When you came back, he pulled you to his chest and you started to talk.

“You know, i got hard because i had a wet dream about you. Probably because of the movie. But you were in a bikini like hers and, well… you know the rest.”

“Really? What a perv.” You laughed together. You couldn’t be more happy to let this felling out of your chest. You didn’t know for how long you could keep that from him.

“What i mean is that, i really hope you don’t think that i’m doing this just because i was hard and you were there to help. I like you, not in a friend way and, if you let me, i would like to make you my girlfriend one day, if you want. For real. Take you out to dates, stay together doing whatever the shit we’ll want, give you things that i know you will love. This kinda shit.”

“If you want to, i would love to be your girlfriend. And all of the things you mentioned. Well… you know, you already do all of that. The sex is new though.”

He laughed and kissed you passionately

“Great. Now, you’ll get see how much fun we’re gonna have” You spent the rest of your valentine’s day like this. Laughing and kissing each other.

[xo-cod]

forgive the inaccuracies, idk much about babies <3 ooc/rushed :)

simon w his baby but she has a preference for one parent and it's not him

simon finally coming back to his safe place, his sanctuary, his home, all but eager to spend some needed time with his family. be had been off to a mission, the last one for a while to make sure that everything was okay. he had already been incredibly reluctant to leave you but now that you both had a baby, it was hard. not a second was spent on the field where images of the pair of you blazed through his mind, almost nearly costing his arm and leg in the process of being too distracted. it had been hell to say the least

but the day finally came, there he was finally on his way back after an intense gruelling month. simon saw you first, bundling you up close in his built arms enjoying your little chuckles that fell from your lips. removing his balaclava as he peppers tender kisses across your cheeks before your lips, his soft smile growing at how happy he was to be back. before he set you back down, eyes scouring about for his bundle of pure joy

"where is she, lovie?? i missed her so much, i got her a little trinket from the place we were deployed in, hope she likes it" he chuckled softly, opening one of his pockets to reveal the gift as he catches his baby on the carpet playing with toys babbling away. his heart was practically bursting at its seams, shedding away his utility vest and his gear to make sure nothing could hurt her before he gently padded his way over. he had different ways the evening would pan out but he hadn't expected this.

he didn't ever expect to be met with a blank stare in return

his heart dropped when he picked his little girl up, she was too busy playing with her favourite toys to even react to him. he hadn't anticipated her looking at him like a stranger. he could've cried with the way she wriggled out of his grasp and wanting to be let down as if he was some enemy. as if instead of being the protector he was now the very thing he swore to keep away from his child, a stranger.

his face like a kicked puppy when he looked at you with pure shock and pain, looking back at the baby who was eagerly crawling back to you having wanting nothing to do with him despite him trying to come closer. you could see all the happiness he previously had practically disappeared from his body, his shoulders deflating with sadness and pain

she couldn't recognise him, she was no longer a daddy's girl

"honey.... sweetheart, it's me, dad. daddy's here. c'mon, c'mere munchkin" he tried to chuckle, kneeling down opening his muscular arms only for her to blink at him and then look back at her toys again

"lovie.... what's going on?" his voice is so soft with hurt and shock looking back to you with huge shining eyes as if he had encountered the worst loss till date. suddenly the mission he had just been on was nothing, the weight of his child preferring you over him was crushing his heart into pieces he didn't think he would come back from. how he'd do any mission 10x over if it meant his child, his treasure would love him again

•••

and it remained that way for the next week, he tried his utmost best but it never seemed to be good enough for her. you tried to console him but he remained dejected, she was always wanting to run back to you. to be comforted by you and to be held by you. every time he tried to tuck her in, his efforts simply proved fruitless. she would cry and cry until you came back in and he watched from the side never feeling like he had failed so hard before in his life.

it hurt more than any of the superficial wounds he ever managed to get in battle, it hurt more than him being on his literal deathbed all those times he was caught in the cross fire. and it only propelled him further into despair when he made the mistake of googling it and realising that this phase may very well last years.

you could see him break with everyday, doubting himself as a father and as a husband. blaming himself and letting the doubt plague his heart and mind. it seemed nothing could comfort him apart from his baby that wanted nothing to do with him. he hadn't managed to hug her at all, he missed being able to snuggle her soft skin for hours. lounging around the home with her cuddled up in one arm as the other gently rubbed on the back of her head soothingly holding her close to his heart. and the thought of never being able to cuddle her without the cries that accompanied it was more than he could bear, it hurt more than anything he had gone through

that was until one night, he was tiredly going to the bathroom and pausing over the nursery. he hadn't meant to but he peeked in and saw her laying in her crib half asleep. her eyes big and brown exactly like his, blinking up slowly at the lieutenant. she was quiet apart from the small sounds she made sucking on the pacifier, a soft bunny in her hand as she peeked back at her father.

"hey baby...." he whispered so softly, he didn't even think she had heard. but her head tilted in curiosity and he chuckled, his hands coming to rest on the walls of the crib. desperately aching to feel her soft skin but too nervous to agitate her

"it's me honey, your dad. i really.... really miss you" he broke off, his heart feeling so heavy as the guilt came barreling in once more. it was his fault that he left her for a month, he shouldn't have been so surprised when he came back and preferred you. you had been there when he couldn't, she developed an attachment with you, not with him

"i'm so sorry to have left you for a month, honey. if i had known- if i thought for a second you'd hate me-" he didn't have the heart to finish the words, the guilt overriding his senses. with a soft sigh, his forehead leaned against his palm for a moment. his own baby didn't like him, he hadn't felt this low in a long time.

he promised he would never raise her in a volatile environment like he had grown up but already he hadn't been any better. he left her knowing for a month, coming back to see her favouring you. and it wasn't easy on both of you, he knew that. he knew he was being irrational but it stung more than any cut, the fact that if he hadn't made the choice to go on the mission that his baby wouldn't be acting so strangely around him.

simon didn't expect anything more tonight, too scared to touch her in case she started crying so he settled for placing the blanket back over her and heading off to bed with a heavy heart. what he didn't expect was the small coo coming from her lips, her tiny fist wrapping up over his index finger. his heart was in his throat, eyes wide at the sight as he looked back to her sweet innocent face again

"me?? you want me?" his voice was so gentle, too scared to speak loud as if this was all a beautiful dream he would wake up from. hesitantly he had reached down, his breath held as his large hands wrapped around his baby so delicately as if she'd shatter beneath his fingertips. slowly sitting down on the rocking chair, the moonlight pouting through the window illuminating her features.

how everyone around claimed she was a carbon copy, how proud he was to call her his daughter. all the moments that they shared running through his mind like a montage and she tilted her small head up at him, a gentle giggle falling from her lips before she rested her weary head against his warm chest. he could've cried and he did, gently but firmly holding her body between his hands. thanking whatever goodness he had done in his life that she was back, his baby was back. and she loved him just like before. she recognised him, she wanted him willingly. it was enough to break him out of whatever funk he had been in, trying desperately not to sob happy tears after a long gruelling two weeks.

you woke up the next morning to see simon laying on the rocking chair, one hand protectively over her small back while the other locked around her little legs as they both slept peacefully. his cheek leaning against her forehead as they cuddled up close on the rocking chair, both making the exact same sleeping face causing you to hide your growing smile and snap a little picture of the tender moment.

she truly was his little mini.

[cheriladycl01]

Hi! Loved your Toto fic… could I request Toto x wife!reader where they both have demanding jobs, reader is deployed in army or navy etc occupation (I know it’s out there 😂) and she’s away while he’s working a race weekend, not being able to concentrate fully only wanting his wife home, safe and sound. Thank you.

The Fight for Entertainment - Toto x MilitaryWife! Reader

Plot: Both you and Toto knew they’d be struggles in your relationship with how busy both of you were. However one weekend … seems a little too much than then rest.

Credit to mythos-writes for the GIF

Your relationship with Toto didn’t start bad. You had just come home from being deployed for the last 8 months. You hadn’t seen any family and all you wanted to was to spend two weeks in the peace of your family home rather than at base.

And for the first 3 days it was perfect. You grazed on the sofa looking after your nieces and nephews who were more than happy to see you and get hugs from their favourite auntie.

But then they wanted to go out to restaurants and then they wanted to drive 2 hours to the nearest beach and spend the whole day there.

The worst was when sport changed from lounging around in the sofa to your dad somehow having acquired some tickets. College football, then his favourite which was the NBA Basketball game you all attended.

But towards the end of what was supposed to be time relaxing your mum won your dad tickets to a Grand Prix at one of the most iconic circuits in North America.

You guys made the flight to Texas, landing in Austin in the early hours of the morning and going straight to the track for FP1 and the F2 practices that were being held there.

It was a pretty exhausting day but that is where you caught the eye of media personal and other security officers. As far as the military went you were pretty high ranking especially after all the news articles around your last deployment.

So it wasn’t a surprise when you got invited for a tour around the Mercedes Paddock. A very nice man, you remember him as he still worked there, Stephen who showed you round the whole day.

You met Toto and at first he didn’t pay too much attention to you. A small hello, before rushing off to do whatever team principles did.

It wasn’t until the end of the weekend, Lewis having won that you actually started talking to Toto.

And then you spent the rest of your time with him, until you were deployed again. He understood and it wasn’t like you guys were serious or anything.

But when he saw you for the first time in 2 months he realised just how much he’d missed you. Work was a beautiful distraction, one where he didn’t think on you being gone much as his full concentration was needed on the races he’d be travelling too.

But as you guys became more serious, the more he struggled to focus at work worried about where you were and what risks you were currently posing. But with the rank you were in, you were actually relatively safe, no longer on the front lines like you had been as a rookie when your first joined.

But you worked around how much you were both apart from one another especially after you guys agreed to marry, you would give him as many updates as humanly possible and would make time for him, whenever you had free time.

Which actually meant you started attending a lot more races, which your dad definitely wasn’t complaining about as he got free tickets every time.

However, a letter that both you and Toto dreaded came through, only 1 week after your last deployment.

“Baby” you say softly, holding the letter behind you, trying to hide the tears in your eyes.

“Yes? What it is Schatz?” He asks taking a seat on the sofa and patting next to it for you to come and take a seat.

“W-we need to talk” you breathe out knowing neither one of you will like the conversation that’s about to follow.

“What is it?” He asks, and you place the letter in front of him on his lap. He tenses seeing the government stamp on it, it being an all too familiar and hated letter in the household.

“Do you want to read it alone? Or with me here?” You ask and he shakes his head, grabbing into your hand as a means to ask you to stay with him.

He read the letter detailing that you’d be going to the frontlines of a war torn country under a protection treaty from the US Military. Something about your exceptional negotiation skills being needed.

You hadn’t been on the front lines in a while, not since you and Toto had become serious and as he’s reading it you can tell from his expressions that he’s fully taking it in.

A little wiggle of his brow in frustration, a sharp intake of breath as he presumably sees where you’ll be going.

“Baby - I” he starts and you just lean into him, pulling him into a hug and nuzzling into the side of his neck as he holds you close, trying not to let any tears fall out of his own eyes.

“You know you don’t need to do this anymore, I provide more than enough for the both of us” he exclaims looking over your face to see if you had any objections.

“You know I can’t do that, regardless of the risk I love my job and I love helping people” you smiled softly.

So that’s where today let you both, you were somewhere in a country fighting for the freedoms of thousands while Toto was providing entertainment for thousands in Miami.

But all he was thinking of was you, he hadn’t heard from you in around 2 weeks and he was starting to worry, he knew this time you’d be busy and more of the grid than he’d ever experienced in your lengthy partnership.

He’d have expected a letter or one of the media personnel to have sent a text on your behalf but there was that fear in the back of his mind that you were coming home too him.

Everyone Toto spoke to that weekend could tell something was wrong, and that it had to do with the absence of his wife as he shut people off whenever they had brought her into conversation.

Media day on Thursday was the most dismal, it wasn’t a bright day in Miami actually brining in some unexpected rain which brought the already down mood in Mercedes even lower.

George and Lewis refused to answer any questions unless they were purely racing related and the affect Toto had on his team was obvious. The rigramole that was where you currently were and why Toto was seemingly affecting the whole team with his bad mood.

The FP1 and FP2 results on Friday also reflected the lack of energy the team seemed to have, having slow practice pit stops, both drivers making rookie mistakes and Toto being angrier than usual.

However by the time Saturday came around things were looking brighter. The usual Miami sun had returned and a few of the Mercedes team members had found a certain rumour of interest that brightened their mood.

So when Sunday came around and they were listening to the anthem, the few that knew what was about ti happen were bouncing on the balls of their feet, anticipated to see their bosses reaction.

You, you were there holding the flag for your country as it was a states race. You’d be asked seeing as you were dismissed early from your deployment for such a good job, and having only had a small break since your last deployment.

So there you were, coming out of the helicopter down a rope as you walk the flag as the National anthem sounds on the speakers.

You pull your helmet fully off and your looking for any sign of Toto.

First you look eyes with some of the mechanics that were aware of this trying to remain respectful for the anthem but being excited that maybe this weekend would turn out better than they had thought at the start of the long weekend.

Then it drifts to the drivers and your immediately looking for the two British drivers in the black race suit and eventually you find the shocked look of Lewis and George, before smiles crown their faces.

“And presenting the flag for us today, Sargent Y/L/N” is spoke just as the anthem ends and you raise the flag up the pole.

Toto watches on with tears in his eyes only having just noticed it was you. He was so confused as to why you were there so early but he wasn’t going to complain.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you pulled up the flag to its full glory.

He waits, waits for permission to come see you and stand by you. You were called here on purpose right, it was for him? So he could see you?

He waited to get the nod off approval to come and pull you into a hug.

He stopped at arms length looking over you, he loved seeing you in your uniform, in his mind it was the most attractive you looked.

“Schatz?” He asks in disbelief. He pulls you into a hug and kisses all over your face, bending down due to his tall frame.

“Thought I’d surprise you! I missed you” you grin happily and he just keeps a hold of you.

“You happier now boss? Can we go racing?” One of the mechanics teases from the side.

“Yeah, jeez get your team together man” Lewis adds.

“Now that Y/N’s here it’s going to be a great weekend” George exclaims happily and you smile at the team as they continue to tease Toto.

And what a weekend it ended up being. Not only did they have Lewis as race winner, but George in P3 making it a double Mercedes podium.

And it’s safe to say, that you weren’t deployed for a while after that race which your husband was more than happy about.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[edenavari]

On the Matter of Mirrors

Eddie is still trying to convince Steve he and Nancy are made for each other. It comes up, like, everytime they hang out, which is all the time, because Steve couldn’t stay away if he wanted to. He doesn’t, but he also wishes Eddie would quit trying to set him up with someone else. 

‘Cause, like, here’s the thing. Steve likes girls. He also, he realized sometime after Robin came out to him, quite likes boys. He likes Eddie. Like… Really likes him. Practices pick-up lines in front of the mirror kind of like. Wears a little more black and tousles his hair just right to give himself a subversive edge he never used to have, just the right amount to trigger a subconscious response without appearing to be tweaking his fashion sense at all. Has mastered the art of wearing eyeliner without looking like he’s wearing it, and it took him a fucking while to work up the nerve to go out like that, not that anyone but Robin noticed. 

But Eddie just will not drop the Nancy case, no matter how many times Steve tries to stir the conversation away from her, and between his budding crush and the crushing fear that it’s never gonna be anything but one-sided, between the slightest of sore spots Steve still sports about the way things with Nancy ended in the first place and the bitter edge of never managing for something to start with Eddie after weeks of efforts, it’s beginning to grate, right? 

“So what’s the problem?” Eddie insists, bounding circles around Steve like an eager puppy, and something in Steve’s ribcage snaps. 

They’re in Steve’s room studying when it comes up once a-fucking-gain. Eddie is taking accelerated summer classes so he can finally graduate by September, and by some inexplicable fuckery of fate, despite Steve’s own dirt poor records, he’s turning out to be a decent tutor. Something about Eddie managing to focus in a way a classroom environment never allowed him to. Maybe because most teachers and over half the student body were openly hostile at worst and aggressively ignoring Eddie at best, all because of his last name or his tattoos or his loud brassy cheek.

All the same, Eddie does get distracted fairly easily, and an hour in, he’s bounced off the bed and started rattling reasons Nancy Wheeler is definitely Steve Harrington’s soulmate. Steve groans noncommittally, gets up to grab his water from the desk and takes a long swallow as Eddie keeps needling him. 

“You’re the problem, Eddie,” he all but snarls, when he really meant it to come out exasperated at worst.

He snarls, though, and Eddie stiffens, his eyes going cold and hurt and the corner of his mouth turned down in anger. 

“Right,” he says, and it sounds so casual Steve thinks he won’t make a big deal of his tone after all. Fool’s hope. “I’ll get out of your perfect hair, then,” Eddie spits out as he makes for the door, only Steve stands in his way, hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he starts. 

“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” Eddie interrupts, but he steps back, gesturing wildly as he speaks. “It’s not like we’re even friends, you just got saddled with me because of Dustin. We saved the world together? Big deal! My involvement was incidental, really, more of an inconvenience than any kind of help. Why would you want my opinion, of all people’s, right? Even by this point. Get out of my way, I’ll quit stepping on your toes. Go on!”

“I don’t want you to go, Eddie,” Steve tries again. 

“Just want me to shut up, is that it? Not really my strong suit, you might have noticed.”

Steve can’t help smiling. “I have noticed.”

It only seems to rile Eddie up even more, throwing his hands out and making to step around Steve again. “Man, what do you want from me?”

“Is this allowed?” he breathes out, extending the last word beyond its scope. 

Which puts him within reaching distance of Steve, who grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and presses him, careful not to jostle him too bad but firm enough to counter his manic strength, against the wall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a touch too close, lets himself imagine that he’s going to close the distance entirely, cocks his head and licks his lips and hangs there in a way he hopes spells it out for Eddie without inducing any kind of panic. 

Eddie, hands still up at shoulder height, lets out a little huff close to a whimper when his back hits the wall, bracing himself for a hit that would never come, and maybe some part of him knows this, because he doesn’t look scared or angry anymore, just kind of confused with a side of grief, and it doesn’t take two seconds for him to start to look intrigued, maybe even, if Steve allows himself a little optimism, interested. 

His lips part on a sharp inhale, and they’re close enough to smell each other’s skin, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, a little watery and out of focus, edging forward in a way that could just be a twitch, just a consequence of holding his breath the way he is, plausibly deniable, subconscious no doubt, only when Steve mirrors the movement, he does it again, gaze moving up and down from Steve’s eyes to his lips and back and back again without blinking, until twitch by twitch their noses graze and their mouths connect and Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on maintaining that seal over Eddie’s plush, pliable pout, because if he didn’t focus, he’d be way, way overeager for a first kiss. 

He moves back after several seconds with a shaky exhale, swallows as he finds Eddie’s eyes again. His blood is thrumming in his fingertips, somehow he feels both cold between his shoulder blades and warm down to his toes, and if Eddie looks at all put out he thinks he might never manage another mirror in his life. 

The look on Eddie’s face is pure disbelief. 

Steve shrugs, not quite settled on the matter of mirrors. “I thought you made a point of breaking the rules?”

A glint starts to wake in Eddie’s eye that’s looking more delighted by the minute. 

“Just as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“We’re in the clear, then,” Steve whispers, leaning in, just a smidge. 

Both of Eddie’s hands sink into his hair as he pulls him into another, much steamier, kiss. Steve lets his fists fall from Eddie’s lapels and knot over his back instead, lets his mouth drop slightly open, an invitation Eddie wastes not a second to follow through on, teeth scraping and back arching like he wants to sink all the way into Steve, and by the time they’re parting, breathless, cheeks flushed, mouths stinging, Steve’s one hand is braced against the wall, holding himself up, knees too weak to do the job on their own. 

“I thought you could barely stand me,” Eddie heaves.

“I can’t,” Steve admits. “You drive me nuts. Just not how you thought.”

Eddie frowns, suddenly serious. 

“You should forget all about Nancy.”

Steve frowns too. “That so?”

“Hm-mm. She’s taken, man. And not all that. You need to move on.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “Am I being desperate?”

“Pathetic,” Eddie nods, barely a whisper against Steve’s lips, and they break into smiles in tandem. “Forget all about her,” Eddie repeats. 

“Who?” Is the last word Steve gets out. Then he’s busy enough he really does forget. 

When he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror in the morning, he walks away with a wink.

Give us a kudos, if ye dare x

[alanaaii]

Shopping w connie.☆

!plug connie & ur just a spoiled brat.

nsfw. car sex.

“ma you know what you wearing friday?” You shook your head, scrolling on your phone. You and connie were suppose to go on one of your monthly dates this week but your closet just wasn’t giving. “I don’t have s-h-i-t in my closet.” You pull the blanket that you and connie shared on the couch. “that mean i gotta take you shopping?”

You knew what that meant—a full day with connie with no distractions. All about you you and you. Finally deciding to get up and start the day, you took a warm shower and got dressed. Sliding on some black leggings and an essentials hoodie. As you did your edges in the mirror, connie came behind you and snuck his cold fingers up your hoodie.

“connn your hands are cold” you whined as you shuffled to get his hands out. “I just wanna feel you mama”. You turn around and push his hands out. “you can feel on me when i get the stuff i want”. You was a big brat. “come on then” You and connie headed out to his all black tinted BMW. He opened the door for you as you hopped up into the passenger seat. He sat on his side and started the car and made his way to the mall.

Once y’all get there, one hand is entangled with connie’s surprisingly bigger hand and your cute pink purse in the other. “where to first ma?”

you pull connie to your favorite store.

Your eyes glowed as you saw the expensive shoes and clothes on the walls.

“pa do i have a limit?” You looked up at him, batting your pretty eyes. You knew connie would spend every last penny he had on you if it meant you would be happy. “go crazy”

And you did just that. Picking up any cute pair of jeans and putting some scandalous things for connie to see you in later. Once you were done you let the woman behind the counter scan all of your stuff. “girl i know your man love you”

All you could do was smile as connie took out a band and began to pay the total.

He grabbed your bags as you make your way out of the store. “thank you papi”. Standing on your tippy toes, you give him a small peck on his lips. “anything for you mama”.

The rest of the day consisted of you putting things in connie’s hands and him buying it.

As you two headed to the car connie was overloaded with bags. “damn ma you about to make me go broke” He huffed as he put the bags into the trunk. You were sitting in the passenger seat sipping your smoothie that you got from the food court.

As he got into opposite side, you put your hand on his perfectly tatted arm, softly rubbing it. “i’m sorry, everything was just soo pretty”. you pout. “let me make it up to you pa” You dragged your hand from his arm to his pants, feeling him stiffen at your touch. Since his car was heavily tinted nobody could see anything. (this is how you got away with everything ;) )

As you leaned into him you pressed your freshly glossed lips into his pink ones. Slowly pushing your tongue into his mouth. You snuck your hands into connie’s sweatpants and pulled out his already erected dick. His tip already moist from the precum you wrap your hand around his dick and pressed your thumb on his tip, circling it. You slowly break the kiss—a string of saliva still connecting you two.

Dipping your head down to spit on the tip before you wrap your mouth around it. Connie bit on his bottom lip, holding in his grunts. Bobbing your head up and down slowly—making those sloppy wet sounds connie adored.

Connie began to thrust his hips into your mouth. forcing you to take him down your throat, gagging on his length. “Fuck maa..jus like that..” He said in his deep raspy voice that had you weak in the knees. You feel him pulse. You knew he was close so you got on your knees and began to give him that gawk gawk combo using your hand and your mouth.

Connie slapped your ass before putting his hand in your leggings. he slid your panties to the side and rubbed your soaking wet cunt, satisfying the heat that was in your core. His long fingers prompting you go moan on his dick, the vibrations overwhelming connie. He couldn’t hold it. “‘m bout to cum ma”

He took his fingers out of you and grabbed onto your head, pushing your head down as he painted your mouth white. He groaned. “that’s my girl.”

you took one big gulp as the bitterness went away. You lifted your head up and looked at your phone camera. Ruined makeup, sweated out edges and all. “Come sit on it mama” He said lowly as he reclined his seat back.

Sliding your pants off but keeping your panties on, you move over to connie’s side and gently slid down on his dick. He grunt as he feels your gushy walls suck him in. You position yourself before you completely lose yourself. You hold onto connie’s shoulders to keep stable before starting to move. Up and down the sound of your ass clapping against connie’s thighs was like music to his ears. You desperately bounced on him, your juices dripping on the seat. (connie doesn’t mind.) You feel your cunt clench around connie as you felt his thumb rub your clit. This man knew how to make you orgasm quick. It’s like he knew every part of you like the back of his hand. Moaning his name, he put his hands around your waist and pushed you down onto him. “fuckkk”

“you gon’ cum on me mama? huh?”

You could feel your knees about to give up on you as your orgasm was coming. One final thrust and you came all over his dick. Your cum making a ring at the bottom of connie’s dick as you rode out your high. Connie press his lips onto yours to suppress your loud moans as you came down.

“i love you ma”

“i love you too con”

“another round at home?”

Likes, reblogs and follows are always appreciated!

[steddieas-shegoes]

A little thing based on this post because it wouldn’t leave my brain:

“I just don’t understand why you won’t try to read it.”

Steve had heard Dustin say this exact sentence hundreds of times at this point.

“I mean, do you know how to read?”

Mike was an asshole. Steve loved him because he was part of the group and he’d been through the same things, but he was such a dick.

“Yes, I know how to read. I just don’t.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t wanna read nerd shit just say so.”

Steve threw his arms up in frustration.

Steve was a nerd at heart. As a child, he would beg the nanny to take him to the library and the science museum that had real dinosaur fossils. There was something about the peace of exiting his reality and finding a new one among fantasy and history that was indescribable, even to this day.

But as he grew into his looks, he grew out of that phase. At least around others.

And with no nanny around to take him places, he settled for just being the popular guy who hung out with his friends after practice and threw parties at his forever empty house on Saturdays.

But secretly, he still found himself enjoying books late into the night. Never school books, or his grades would’ve been good enough for college, but always incredible novels that took him to other worlds with the most impressively brave people.

And then he lived a nightmare. A few times over. With concussions at every turn.

Now, anytime he tried to read, his head started pounding, his vision got blurry, and ears would start ringing. He stopped trying altogether after Starcourt, but he’d never really let go his love of books.

He occasionally let Robin read to him, but she would get distracted by a plot or character and go on a tangent, leaving Steve confused about what the actual story was. He hated being confused.

“Stevie, you got a minute?”

Eddie had been watching from his spot at the end of the table, where he’d been cleaning up the mess of D&D. He usually made the kids do it, but he’d let them off the hook tonight when they beat the monster and escaped his trap.

Steve and Eddie were friends, definitely. Maybe not close ones, but friends.

Steve had a little crush, definitely. Or a big one. Maybe.

So when Eddie shows him attention, he somewhat shamefully receives it like he’s dying of thirst in a desert.

Robin is the only one who’s noticed so far, but if he keeps acting like a dog being called by his master anytime Eddie talks to him, someone else will comment on it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked as he made his way to Eddie.

The kids took this time to talk amongst themselves about the game and what they think will happen next week, and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You don’t have to tell me, but.” Eddie was tapping his fingers nervously against his leg. “Do you not know how to read?”

“Uh. No I do. I mean I graduated high school. I know it’s hard to believe.”

“Not judging if you can’t, man. I mean, I took three senior years. I’m the last person who can judge.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart. You just didn’t like school,” Steve replied with a pat to his shoulder.

Eddie glanced down at the contact, eyebrow raising and then falling back to normal quickly.

“Just seems like you’d have read something by now to get them off your ass.”

And that’s a really good point. Maybe he should’ve just suffered through a migraine so they’d leave him alone about it.

But migraines left him out for days sometimes, and he couldn’t exactly afford that right now.

“I guess it’s just not worth the migraine.”

He hadn’t meant to actually say it. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad or for him to try to make him feel better about it or ask questions or talk about the concussion thing.

Actually, did he even know about the concussion thing? Things?

“You get migraines when you try to read?” Then realization hit Eddie hard. “Steve. Do you like reading?”

Something about the way Eddie was looking at him, like he was sad for him but not pitying him, made Steve want to cry.

“I used to, yeah.”

“Everyone out! Your parents are gonna have to come get you! No questions, no explanations, go!” Eddie yelled to the room.

Everyone stared blankly at him before they started protesting, Dustin loudest of all.

“Steve’s my ride!”

“Not anymore. Hitch a ride with Lucas.”

“But Lucas’ mom always squeezes my cheeks and tells me she hopes I never lose my baby fat.”

“She speaks for all of us. Get the hell out of here!”

Steve was actually impressed. Maybe a little turned on? God, he was a disaster.

As everyone cleared out of the room, Eddie patted the seat next to him. When Steve sat down, Eddie scooted his chair so close to him, his knees were touching Steve’s.

“Alright, so you’re gonna tell me about what books you like and what books you want to read and we’re gonna get started.”

Steve blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You have a list I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Okay, then we better get started.”

“I mean, I’ve tried. I appreciate it, but even focusing on one page makes my eyes burn and my head hurt.”

“Got that. I’m not asking you to read.”

Sometimes Steve was worried the concussions had actually knocked some screws loose. He wasn’t getting it.

“I’m gonna read to you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure a lot of them will be movies and I can just watch them.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not.”

He was right. Steve didn’t have much patience for movies. And sometimes even those gave him migraines if there were a lot of bright lights and explosions.

“Yeah. But still. You don’t have to do that. You might not even like the books.”

“Ah, this isn’t a completely free service, my liege.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t have extra money to pay you, dude.”

“Not money. I get to pick a book to read to you when we finish the first book you pick.”

“Is it The Hobbit?”

“It is,” Eddie looked so smug.

“Well, that was my first choice,” Steve stared back, equally as smug.

“So, your house is empty.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m assuming you own this book.”

“I do.”

“And it’s getting late.”

Steve looked out the window at the pitch black skies.

“It’s late.”

“So I could stay and read you to sleep.”

“Won’t I miss some of the book?”

“I’ll stop when you’re asleep.”

Steve’s heart was practically begging him to say yes. Eddie reading to him in his bed? Possibly falling asleep together? Maybe even waking up together? It couldn’t be a better proposition. Well. It could.

“Will you stay even if I fall asleep?”

Eddie smirked. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d called Steve that, but it was the first time it felt like he meant it in a non-teasing way.

“Okay.”

So they both changed into some of Steve’s comfy clothes, got into his bed, and Eddie started reading The Hobbit.

Just as he was during D&D and real life, Eddie was animated, providing different voices for different characters and often giving long pauses to let Steve soak in what the words meant.

Steve didn’t even have to ask him to do that. He just did.

Steve fell asleep somewhere between halfway and the end of chapter two, but Eddie stayed.

And they woke up the next day with Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible.

They finished the The Hobbit in a week, and because Eddie was now committed to making sure Steve was well-read, they started moving through his list rapidly, falling for each other in new ways every time Eddie turned a page.

Part 2 (Angst)  / Part 2 (Fluffy) /  Part 2 (Explicit)

[sinner-as-saint]

I'm insane, but I'm your baby

Dark!Bucky x Reader (age gap au) 

Run-through: You broke things off with Bucky shortly after you realised that he was quickly becoming overly emotionally reliant on you. And you were not ready for that kind of commitment. Besides, when you and Bucky first got together, the rule was no emotional bond at all. It was all just transactional, exciting, and fun. But then he changed. And you didn’t realise just how much you meant to him… until he showed you. 

Themes: ex-sugarbaby!bucky, dark!bucky, obsessive!bucky, sugarmommy!reader, mild MDLB (nicknames only), possessive!bucky, switch!bucky, smut, brief somno, bondage, praise kink, reader gets referred to as “mommy” a lot, dub con, manipulation, age gap (Bucky is in his twenties, Reader is in her late thirties), gun play, mentions of stalking and violence

a/n: warning – dark fic, pls read the themes carefully and do not consume media that makes you uncomfortable.

You knew he was already in your house the moment you walked in. 

Firstly because that was his car outside, parked near the driveway fountain. Secondly, because he’d been doing this for a whole week now. Ever since the two of you broke up, he’d show up at your house whenever he wanted. 

He still had copies of the keys you’d given him. And he acted like a brat each time you asked for the keys back. What if I left something and I desperately needed it? He’d argue. You were a busy woman, head of and handling family businesses and some of your new ones as well so you rarely had enough time to argue over keys with a young man who refused to act his age. 

Part of his bratty behaviour was your fault, you knew that. He was already spoiled when you met him – typical rich boy who rebelled against his rich parents whenever he wanted. But then when he met you, he became a total brat. You spoiled him even more than his family did – cars, trips, jewellery, a penthouse in whatever city he wanted, everything he’d asked for, you gave it to him. 

In return, he was at your beck and call. He often joked about how you trained him like a loyal puppy. You laughed, because it was true. Whenever you called, he came running to you. 

Your ‘relationship’ was perfect in the beginning. It was fun, and an amazing way for you to unwind and get away from the hectic work life. But then, Bucky got clingy. Emotionally clingy. And you tried to talk to him about it, but he would just act up and refuse to listen. Or, most of the time he’d just distract you with his amazing body. 

So you went with the flow for a couple of more months, before about a week ago you sat him down and broke things off. Of course it wasn’t easy. Bucky was especially bratty about it and was having none of it. But eventually stormed out of your house. 

He was back the very next day, begging and pleading for you to take him back. You asked him to leave. Then he was back the following day, same old story. Then the day after that, he’d let himself into your house while you were still at home. You’d asked him to leave. 

And he’d been repeating this bullshit for a whole week now. You were tired. Your days at work weren’t particularly easy. You had a huge staff to manage, meetings to attend, everything rested on your shoulders. All you wanted was some quiet time when you got home but no. A certain blue eyed young man, previously your sugarbaby, wouldn’t leave you alone. 

You sighed as you walked further into your house. Dropping your keys and shoes in the foyer as you walked towards the kitchen. And there he was. 

Wearing nothing but dark grey sweatpants. Smooth, tatted skin exposed. With his bare, muscular back to you, cooking something like he was completely at home in your space. Well, he did live here with you for the last few months. 

You watched him for a moment as he moved with ease in your kitchen. Fuck, why did he have to be so irresistible? Especially in this kitchen, where you’d fucked countless of times… 

“What are you doing?” You asked, once you were done eye-fucking him. 

Bucky turned to look at you with a sly grin on his face. He lowered the flame, wiped his hands on a nearby tea towel and made his way over to you. 

You couldn’t even push him away as he held you in his muscular arms. You could feel the dampness on his skin, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Surely he even used your gym as well. 

He nuzzled your cheek, “Hi mommy,” He whispered, “How was your day?” He kissed along your cheek, then down your neck. So slowly you felt yourself slipping under his spell again. 

But then you recovered and carefully stepped out of his embrace. Ignoring the hurt on his pretty face at you pulling away, you asked again, “What are you doing, Bucky?” 

“Making you dinner.” He answered, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist again, “Your favourite pasta.” He smiled down at you, then leaned in to kiss your nose. “Want some wine while you wait for it to be done?” 

You sighed, pulling away again. “Bucky, I don’t like having to kick you out all the time.” You stated, looking him right in those puppy dog, ocean blue eyes. “But enough is enough. Give me my keys and please,” You tried not to sound too harsh, “Please leave. You and I, we’re done. I can’t… I can’t give you what you want, and we agreed on that. So please, leave.” 

He was quiet. So were you. It was tense, heavy, emotional silence. You were tired of always breaking his heart like this. Why couldn’t he just understand? 

“But I thought…” He crossed his arms, his muscles looking even bigger this way. “Did you never love, or care about me?” His tone suddenly softened. 

You sighed for probably the tenth time. “Bucky, this again?” 

He gave you the innocent, puppy dog eyes again. “I just… I thought we had something, mommy.” He whispered, sounding like a lost puppy, “Didn’t we?” He inched closer, his body heat wrapping around you. “Didn’t we, mommy?” He whispered into your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t you remember how good we were together?” 

You almost gave in again… almost. “Get out.” You said. 

He pulled away, surprised and frowning at the coldness in your calm tone. “Wha… what?” 

You almost felt bad. “You heard me. Get out.” You repeated. “Don’t make me call security.” 

He reluctantly left. 

You heard the purring of his car engine gradually fade, and the alarms signalled that the gates were shut again. 

You went to the stove and turned it off, the food already ruined. You cursed under your breath because you knew this wasn’t the last time. Bucky could be adamant when he wanted something. 

Or someone. 

— 

Much to your surprise, he didn’t show up the next day. Or the day after that. And just when you thought he was finally out of your life… you dreamt of him one day. Even in your dreams he was not ready to let you be. 

You dreamt of him in your room, in your bed. His soft hair brushing against your face as he kissed all over your jaw and neck… nibbling on your skin. 

He chuckled when you let out a sigh of pleasure. “I know, mommy.” He kissed along your exposed neck. “I know you didn’t mean it when you said we were done the other day,” He whispered, brushing his lips against yours, “See? Even in your sleep your body still wants me.” He sounded pleased. Mischievous. 

“So beautiful… and all mine.” You felt his phantom hands brushing against your thighs… like he always did whenever he woke up in the same bed as you. 

He always took full advantage of the fact that you slept in the nude. And you lived for those moments, those slow mornings filled with endless kisses and caresses and cuddles, and him being brat and not wanting you to leave the bed, or him. You dreamt of his lips kissing down your neck, down your chest, down your torso… 

He chuckled again, his boyish laughter echoing in your head. “You’re all wet for me, mommy.” He noted. He was right. You could feel it. Dreams always heightened every sense so you were fully aware of the wetness in between your thighs. 

He kissed your hips, whispering, “Your baby boy is hungry, mommy…” He kissed right above your clit, warm breath making your body come alive even in dreams. He always had a talent of making your body sing whenever he touched you. 

Then his warm tongue licked along your slit, his hands spreading your things apart to give him better access. Your hand moved lazily, fingers ready to slide into his hair… even in your dreamy fantasies you assumed his hair would be silky soft… but you couldn’t quite move your arm. 

That was the equivalent of warning bells ringing. You opened your eyes, no longer dreaming, and gasped in surprise as you not only found Bucky in between your legs but your hands were tied to the headboard. With one of his expensive ties. 

“Bucky…” His name sounded more like a soft moan as he shamelessly tasted you, eating you out passionately, giving you his all. 

At the sound of his name, he looked up. Held your stare as he lazily circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, then said, “Morning, mommy. How did you sleep?” 

“What…” You sounded breathless as his finger slowly slid inside you, stroking that spot inside you that he knew all too well. Fuck, this was sweet torture… “What are you doing?” 

He chuckled, finger-fucking you lazily. “Waking you up, of course.” He frowned playfully. “What does it look like I’m doing? Hmm?” He pressed another kiss to your throbbing clit before he nuzzled the space between your hips, “How dare you keep this away from me, huh? How dare you keep yourself away from me, mommy?” 

You were too overwhelmed to speak. Hands tied above your head, his finger and tongue in between your legs… each time you opened your mouth to speak, only moans escaped. No coherent sentences. 

“Bucky!” You cried out when he made you come the first time. He just chuckled and showed no sign of stopping. He added another finger and kept stroking that spot inside you, his tongue kept teasing your clit until you came a second time. “Bucky, please…” You begged. 

He looked up this time, smiling like a devilish, blue-eyed, young god. “Yeah, mommy?” 

“Please just… untie me.” You whispered, breathlessly. 

He chuckled, in that boyish way of his. “No? Cause then you’ll just pull away from me.” He reasoned. “I like you like this, all nice and open for me.” He said, “I really missed this, I didn’t even touch myself because… because that’s your job, isn’t it?” He rambled, fingers still slow fucking you. “You can’t just kick me out and stop caring for me just cause you feel like it, mommy.” He frowned, in a way you’d always found both bratty and adorable. “Don’t you see? Don’t you see I need you?” 

You sighed and whined as he made you come once more before removing his fingers from you. 

“Did you hear me?” He asked, kissing his way up your body, “Your baby boy needs you, mommy.” He whispered as he nuzzled your neck. 

You had no choice but to play along, ignoring the way your body, traitor that it was, craved him still. “Baby,” You whispered, “I need you to untie me, okay?” 

“No.” He said in that bratty voice of his. 

You groaned internally. This is what you get for fucking around with clingy, younger men. “Baby, please.” 

He pulled away to look down at you. His glorious body hovering above yours. Bare chest, only black sweatpants today. “You won’t pull away?” 

“No.” You answered, truthfully. 

“And you won’t ask me to leave?” 

“No, baby.” You were beginning to hear that familiar bratty tone in his voice. He could get whatever he wanted when he got in moods like these. 

He smirked, with nothing but a glazed, determined look in his pretty eyes. “Good,” He said, then reached behind him and pulled out his silver handgun. A very familiar handgun. Damn you, another silly purchase. This one even had his initials engraved on it. Bucky chuckled when he saw the look on your face, “Oh I would never hurt you, mommy. This is just… precaution.”

You nodded, holding his stare. You said nothing as he brought the gun closer to your chin. The cold barrel pressed against your skin as he dragged it downwards. Your heart raced faster than it ever had. Bucky’s eyes followed the trail of the gun as yours remained fixed on his face. 

Then he said, “Do you remember when you gave this to me?” He stopped the barrel right in between your breasts. “Do you remember how much fun we had that night?” He smirked, dragging the barrel further down your body. 

You hissed as the cold barrel pressed against your wet folds. Bucky had a heated look in his lust-drunk, now hooded eyes as he slid the tip of it up and down your folds, coating the barrel with your wetness. 

You squirmed under him, instinctively grinding against it. It felt immoral, chasing that feeling. Fuck. 

“Look at you, mommy.” He mumbled. “All of this for your baby boy, huh?” He brought the now wet barrel to his mouth, opening his mouth to let his pink tongue out. He held your stare as he licked it clean. That sinful tongue of his tasting you again. “You always taste so fucking good…” He tossed the gun aside once he was done proving his point. 

Your mind was a mess. Torn between giving in to desire and lust, or side with rational thinking. 

“Open your mouth, mommy.” He whispered, leaning in until his face was just inches above yours. 

When you did open your mouth, he spat in it before leaning in to give you an orgasmic kiss. Messy, wet, warm… your body tingled under him. His warm skin pressing against yours. Bucky reached up and untied your wrists. 

Instead of trying to put some distance between your bodies, you found your hands reaching for him. Your fingers sliding into his hair as he moaned into your mouth. “Fuck… mommy,” He whimpered, holding you closer and kissing you deeper. “More,” He groaned, “I want more.” 

Your bodies moved into position instinctively. Your legs spread just enough for him to settle in between them. 

You had forgotten just how sensitive you were from earlier, so you hissed in pleasure and pain as he slid all the way in. 

You saw panic in his eyes for a moment as he calmed you down, cradling your head and kissing your face. “Shh, shh, hey,” He whispered softly, “It’s just me,” He said, kissing your lips, “It’s just your baby boy, mommy. Open up for me, that’s it, there you go…” He moaned as he pulled out and pushed back in again. 

You swore as Bucky moved his hips expertly, slipping in and out of you with ease. Soon, he was slamming into you, his movement animalistic and unrestrained much like his feelings. He was relentless, taking what he wanted, how he wanted. 

“Buck…” You whined, giving up and just letting him pleasure you. 

Bucky slammed in and out of you continuously, moaning and grunting in the process. “You feel so good, mommy.” He murmured as he increased his pace, fucking into you mercilessly as your legs locked around him. 

Your thoughts were a mess yet again as you felt your vision getting blurry with each passing second. You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pulling you into him, hard, each time he filled you up. “Baby…” You moaned. 

“I know, I know,” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “Tell me I feel good inside you,” He whispered, “Tell me I fuck you good, mommy.” Damn him. He knew just what made you lose your mind and he used them all to his advantage, making you fall under his spell just like that. 

He sped up, rocking his hips harder against yours when he noted that you weren’t doing as he asked. His hand reached around to grab your throat carefully. He squeezed gently, speeding up into you as he looked straight into your eyes, your soul. “Tell me I fuck you good.” He said, jaws clenching and a vulnerable look in his eyes. 

You gripped the bed sheets as he pounded into you. “You… you feel so good, baby.” You mumbled, Bucky leaned down and pressed his soft lips against yours as you whispered, “You fuck me so good.” 

He smirked. “I know.” He sounded cocky as he said, “I know only I can make you feel this good, mommy.” 

Your walls constricted around him, hard enough to make him go faster. Bucky pounded into you harder than before, the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the room. He took you higher, and higher, and higher until you felt tears escape your eyes. 

“Baby…” you were breathless, unable to form coherent words as he fucked you silly. 

“Come for me, mommy.” He groaned, giving you a messy kiss as he moaned some more against your mouth, “Come for me…” 

You let the pressure build inside you, before letting go, unable to hold back. More hot tears streamed down your face as Bucky kept pounding into you, your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, chasing his own. 

“Fuck, mommy,” He came with a loud groan, filling you up with his cum yet again. You caught your breath as he leaned down to kiss you again. Kissing all over your face, down your neck and your shoulder. “That was so good,” he whispered, “See how good we are?” He caressed your face, “Why do you want to throw this away, huh?” He kissed your forehead. 

Then he looked over at your bedside table and chuckled. 

“Look at the time,” He sounded calm and normal again. “You’re gonna be late for work, mommy.” He giggled, kissing your cheek, “Want me to drive you? We could grab breakfast on our way.” 

Your brain was too foggy for you to string together words or sentences so you just nodded and whispered, “Okay.” 

— 

After that morning, it was back to being as if you’d never broken up in the first place. 

Each time you even try to say something regarding your relationship, Bucky would shut you up with a mind melting kiss. His skilled tongue and hands could make anyone forget anything. 

You’d wake up each day to find flowers on your bedside. Breakfast was always already made. And Bucky was always ready to drive you to work. 

You decided to bring this whole situation up one day while he was driving. “You know we can’t keep doing this, right Bucky? We can’t… you can’t keep acting like this.” You looked at him, sunglasses hiding his pretty eyes, jaws clenched, that tight black t-shirt hugging his muscular body… 

Bucky sent a quick glance your way, smirked, placed his hand higher up your thigh and asked, “What are you talking about?” He was so fucking good at acting oblivious. 

“This, Bucky!” You gestured to all of him. “All of this. You refusing to leave, you driving me to work.” You listed. “We ended whatever was between us,” You stated. “Why are you being like this?” You lowered your tone, realising that reasoning with him was futile. 

He didn’t say a word. He kept driving, kept his warm hand on your thigh. His touch was as electric as always. His calm demeanour was nothing but a façade, and you knew. He was like a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. 

And he did. 

When he pulled into the underground parking lot of your office building, he grabbed your wrist before you could get out of the car. 

“Let go, Buck. I’m getting late for a meeting.” You told him. 

He took his sunglasses off, tossed them aside and said, “You’re the boss. There’s no such thing as the boss being late.” 

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, what do you want?” 

“You.” He answered, leaning closer as he tugged on your arm to bring you closer to him. Fuck he smelt good. “You’re all I want, mommy. No expensive gifts, no trips, no cars, nothing.” He whispered, brushing his lips against your cheek. “Just you. All of you.” 

You groaned, pulling away a little. “I can’t give you that.” You explained. “I have a busy life, I can’t commit, I cannot be in a normal relationship, I can–,” 

He cut you off, tightening his grip in your wrist. “Is there someone else?” He questioned, again with that glazed look in his eyes. “Hmm? Is there some… Steve?” 

You frowned, “How do you know Steve?” 

Bucky smirked, “I went through your phone after you fell asleep last night.” He confessed with no shame. “He texts you quite a lot, doesn’t he? He’s a bit too flirty to be just an employee, mommy.” Bucky spoke, low and deep. “Who is he?” 

“No one.” You answered truthfully. Sure, Steve could be a little flirty sometimes. But he was amazing at his job and you couldn’t lose him so you ignored his flirty comments and texts as one does. He was indeed no one though. “Just an employee, Buck.” You said, quite annoyed. “Don’t fucking touch my phone again.” 

He subtly flinched at the coldness in your tone. “Sorry, mommy.” He murmured. He looked genuinely apologetic for a moment. “I… I saw someone kept texting you late at night and,” He let go of your wrist and slid his hand in between your thighs, “I had to see who it was.” 

Yeah. Pencil skirts around him? Bad idea. 

But his hand felt so good. His fingers sliding up and down the flimsy material of your thong. You gasped as he slid a finger into you easily. “Oh damn you, Bucky.” 

He chuckled darkly into your ear. “Do you like him?” He asked, sliding another finger inside you, making you roll your hips, thrusting into his hand. “Do you let him touch you?” 

“No,” You whined. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping his hand in between your legs as you moaned. “He’s… no one.” 

“He better be no one,” Bucky whispered, kissing down your neck as he finger-fucked you. “Otherwise…,” He gently nibbled on your skin, “You know I always keep my gun on me, mommy.” 

You gasped in shock and pleasure. “Bucky, please.” 

“I will never hurt you,” He whispered. Then chuckled almost maniacally. “You know I will never hurt you. But that doesn’t mean I won’t get rid of whoever tries to come between me and my mommy,” He said, thrusting his fingers rapidly in and out of you. “You’re mine.” 

The interior of the car was heating up. The air was dense and hot, your heart was racing as he touched you, taking you higher and higher… until he stopped abruptly. Pulled his fingers out of you and popped them in his mouth, shamelessly moaning at your taste. 

You almost came at the sight of it. 

You didn’t realise your hand had subconsciously started making its way in between your legs, seeking to alleviate the sweet pain there, until Bucky slapped your hand playfully and said, “Stop that. That’s my job.” 

That broke you out of whatever spell you were under. “Why’d you… why did you stop?” You questioned, breathing heavily. 

Bucky smiled, kissed you on the forehead and said, “I have to keep you wanting more, mommy.” He kissed your mouth, gently. “I’ll pick you up later. Just give me a call, okay?” 

And just like that, he avoided confronting the situation at hand. Again. 

—

A few days later, by some miracle, you’d managed to talk Bucky out of dropping you and picking you up from work each day. 

But of course, he didn’t agree to that out of reason. No, he needed to see something. 

You were unaware of it but Bucky had gotten access to most of the security cameras placed in your office building. The underground garage, your personal office, your assistants’ offices, the lobby, everything. 

He did it to keep an eye on you at all times. All because he wanted you safe all the time. And anytime you were out of his sight, his heart was restless. This was the only way he could be at peace. 

But also, he needed to keep an eye on this Steve. 

—

One evening you came home, and the house was eerily quiet. 

No dinner cooking. No extravagant flower arrangement waiting for you in the foyer. No cheesy notes. Nothing. 

The silence was the opposite of peaceful. You walked cautiously inside your own home, looking for the cause of this tension in the air. The kitchen was empty. So was the sunroom. And that left… 

There he was. Sitting in your lavish living room. Manspreading on a sofa with a drink in his hand and… his gun in the other hand. 

You stopped and froze immediately. “Bucky?” You called out, given he was staring at the ground rather than at you. He didn’t reply so you tried again, “Baby? What is it?” 

He looked up this time. Whatever his moods were, he could never resist those nicknames coming from your mouth. He took one last sip of his drink, whiskey it seemed, placed the glass on the carpet and said, “I thought you said he was just an employee.” 

Your heart sank. You knew who he was referring to. “He… he is.” 

“Oh?” He tilted his head to the side as he pulled his phone out, tapped a few times before turning the screen towards you and there it played. Footage of you and Steve from earlier, saying goodbye to each other. 

In the video, you could clearly see yourself smiling and laughing at whatever Steve was saying. Then out of nowhere, Steve leaned in and kissed your cheek before whispering a goodbye and wishing you a good weekend. 

You looked back up into Bucky’s eyes. They were empty. Like there was no soul behind them, nothing just betrayal, anger, and hurt. “It’s not–,”

“You said he was just an employee.” Bucky repeated, leaning back against the sofa. “Then why the fuck was he touching you? Hmm? Kissing your cheek? Why did you let him touch you, mommy?” His calm voice made you shiver. 

“How did you… have you been watching me?” You asked, taking a step closer to him, only the coffee table separated you. 

He was quiet. Cocky pout on his pink lips. You noticed the slight stubble on his cheeks and how much older they made him seem. More broody even. 

“You can’t do this.” You spoke softly, trying not to aggravate the situation. “You can’t invade my privacy like–”

He cut you off. “Oh please,” he pouted like the brat he was. “I’m your baby boy, aren’t I, mommy? Can’t I care about you? Can't I keep an eye on you when you’re away?” 

“Bucky… this is too far–” 

He cut you off again. “Too far?” He chuckled in that humourless way. “You think I’ve gone too far?” He stood up, he was in no way drunk. 

His movements were calculated, steady, and commanding. He walked around the expensive coffee table and stopped just inches away from you. 

“You’re lucky you couldn’t hear the thoughts that crossed my mind when I first saw him kissing you, mommy.” He leaned in and breathed in your scent. “He was this close to you, wasn’t he?” 

“Bucky,” You tried not to let your voice sound shaky. “Please… 

“Tell me why I shouldn't go back and…” He brought his gun up in front of your face, “mess with him a little.” He scoffed. “How dare he touch you? Hmm?” Bucky brought the barrel up to your face and trailed it down your cheek. “Doesn’t he know you’re mine?” He whispered. “Doesn’t he know only I get to touch you?” He scoffed. “Or am I your secret, mommy? Huh? Do you not tell people about me?” 

You gasped as the cold barrel trailed down your neck, and disappeared into your shirt, lightly grazing the tops of your breasts. His lips brushed against your neck next, kissing his way leisurely up and down. 

You were a mess. You were scared but you knew he would never hurt you. You thought, maybe if you hadn’t been so harsh when it came to breaking up with him out of nowhere, maybe he wouldn’t be like this right now… right? 

His hands quickly undid your top buttons as he kissed his way down to your cleavage. He let out a soft, vulnerable moan as he tasted your skin. The sound of it almost made you slide your hands into his hair to tug on it. Almost. 

“Bucky,” You whispered breathlessly, “You can’t do that. You can’t hurt him just because he kissed me goodbye.” 

He scoffed, pulling away to look into your eyes. His pretty blue eyes were still vacant. “I can. I might.” He said, “You know I would do absolutely anything for you.” He brought the barrel of the gun and tapped it against your parted lips. 

“No.” You insisted softly, “You can’t.” 

“No?” He gave you his signature puppy dog eyes. “Tell me why I shouldn't? Give me one good little reason, mommy.” He leaned in, his free hand touching you down your side. He knew your body too well. He knew you would be dripping for him if he just checked. 

He went to do it, but chose to tease you instead, dragging his fingers up and down your inner thighs through the fabric of your skirt. 

Oh damn him. Him and his intoxicating touch.

“Because I love you.” You finally slid your fingers into his hair. He closed his eyes momentarily, as if relishing the feeling of your touch against his scalp. “Just you.” You said, “It’s just you for me. He’s no one.” 

For once, his eyes lit up. “You promise, mommy?” 

“I promise baby boy, I promise.” You repeated. “Put the gun down.” You instructed. And when he did as you asked, tossing the gun aside, you said, “Now how about we forget about all of this and have one of our lazy nights, hmm? Just dinner, a movie, me and you?” 

Bucky smiled, leaning in to nuzzle your cheek. His arms wrapped around you tightly. You couldn’t help but hug him back. The familiarity of his body made you burn. The touch of his skin against yours like the electricity you craved. 

He whined as he nuzzled your neck. “I’ve missed you…” He whispered, unbuttoning the rest of your shirt before taking it off slowly. “Can I please have you? I need to feel you, mommy. Need to taste you… need to make you feel good.” He breathed into your ear, making your body shiver. “Please?” He begged. 

You nodded and let him guide you over to the sofa. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap. He chuckled once you straddled him, pulling your skirt up as you undid his pants. 

“I won’t let anyone come between us, mommy. No one. Ever.” He whispered, sliding his fingers between your legs and rubbing you where you needed him the most. He watched in awe as you gasped and moaned. Was there a prettier sight? He wasn’t sure there was. “You won’t leave me, would you?” 

“No…” You gasped as he slid two fingers into you, stroking you until he brought you right over to that edge, and kept you there. 

“Good.” He said, “‘Cause I’m crazy about you.” He chuckled, “You can’t blame me, though. Love does that to people.” He leaned in to kiss your neck, biting down on your skin playfully. “You know there’s nothing I won’t do for you, right?” He sped up his fingers, fucking you a little faster until he began to hear you make those soft little sounds he loved so much. The ones where you tried your hardest not to moan. “I will beg, worship, and plead…” He trailed off, stopped finger-fucking you for a moment, just to get your attention before adding, “...and I won’t hesitate to even kill for you, mommy.” 

You whimpered. Fear and pleasure. There was a warning in his eyes. His glassy blue eyes, there was truth in them. And manic love. Obsession. 

There was no other way for you to go about this situation so you took on your role. You reached up and carefully wrapped your hand around his throat, pushing his head back just a little. You stared into his eyes as you lifted your hips and positioned your hole to the tip of his hard cock. 

“No killing. None of that, you hear me?” You said as you slowly sank down his cock. His lips parted as he exhaled shakily, your walls clenching around him for emphasis. “Do you hear me, baby?” 

He let out one of his pretty whimpers and mumbled, “Yes, mommy.” Then he whined and cursed, “Oh fuck you feel so good.” 

“Good.” You whispered, lifting your hips up and sinking down on him again. Repeating the movement until the two of you were groaning and gasping for air. 

Meanwhile, his thoughts raced as you took his cock so perfectly. His perfect mommy. The love of his life. The woman who controlled every move, every emotion, every thing of his. 

He smirked as he looked up at you, how you were riding him. Nice and slow, and passionate. 

Bucky had to suppress a scoff. You really thought he’d let Steve go just like that? 

Silly mommy… 

Bucky might be the rebel son of his family, but his last name and generational wealth still spoke volumes. He had a little army of his own that he could command into doing anything. And they were currently… taking care of Steve on his behalf. 

Not that you would ever know. 

All you would know would be that on his way to work on Monday, Steve would have an unfortunate, terrible accident. 

“Just you and me, right mommy?” He whispered in his lust-drunk haze as he looked up at you. You looked like a goddess. One he wouldn’t mind worshipping for the rest of his days. 

You agreed. Unknowingly fueling his obsession. “Just us, baby.” 

---

Fin. 

a/n: [dials number rapidly] Freud my good man, listen–