#i need some closure i can’t move on from this
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closed some ao3 tabs and started crying. again
#i don’t think i’ve ever cried this much in years#i just hope i don’t break down at work tomorrow#i need some closure i can’t move on from this#it’s so hard i can’t distract myself i can’t do anything i can’t stop checking my phone for updates it’s really fucking bad#i can’t even shower cause i’m scared i’ll miss something and come back to something horrible#i know it will be there either way but i just have so much anxiety i can’t function#i need to get my shit together because i don’t know how i’ll be able to go to work tomorrow if i keep acting this way#can he please just stream?#*
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Price x Reader. Age gap. Divorced Price. Older BF Price. Vaguely smutty. Follow-up to this.
Price realizes you’ve never had a reliable man in your life exactly the second time he discovers you looking up DIY home maintenance for very simple projects.
It missed him the first time because he was deployed. You’d mentioned offhand how you were figuring out how to rebalance a ceiling fan, and he’d just automatically assumed that you were doing it yourself because he wasn’t there, so he simply praised you for your resourcefulness and lived for the next three weeks off of the way you’d absolutely glowed at his words.
But then he gets home, and one evening on the couch he catches you googling “how to fix a leaky sink.”
“What’s that?” he asks you, tamping down on the sudden feeling of masculine inadequacy that reared up almost immediately at the discovery.
“Faucet handle’s leaking all over my counter when I turn it on,” you say, not looking up from your phone. “Landlord’s out of town and can’t fix it.”
“I’m in town, ain’t I?”
You look up at him then, brows raised. You hadn’t even considered asking him, then.
“Oh—I didn’t want to bother you, John, you only just got back, and you’re tired…”
You trail off at the droll expression on his face.
Price has learned a lot of lessons from his previous marriage. The foundational one: just because he hasn’t been asked to help doesn’t mean he is believed to be unreliable. Adding that lesson to his knowledge base about you—young, modern, independent—calculates out an obvious answer that curtails any sour mood that might have sprouted up over the issue.
He puts his hand over your phone screen and lowers it down to your lap. “I’m fixin’ the sink,” he says simply.
He enjoys the way your eyes dilate at the assertion.
The next day, he shows up at your flat wearing old work clothes and carrying his heavy toolbox in his hand.
(You don’t live together yet—something he’s keen to rectify—but he has a toothbrush in your bathroom and permanent space in your bedroom drawers. He can be content for now.)
And you—you answer the door in the filmiest of sundresses, the ribbon tie on one shoulder hanging at a loose angle.
“Heard you need some plumbing done,” he says in the gruffest of voices, already understanding the game.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” you say, barely able to hide your giggle, “I’ve been so worried.”
He steps in close to you, close enough to feel the heat of your body radiating off of your bare skin. He has half a mind to put the charade aside and lift your skirt here and now, but another lesson helpfully springs to mind: anticipation of the act makes the finale all the sweeter.
“I’ll show you to the kitchen,” you murmur, looking up at him with warm, dreamy eyes.
When he gets under the sink, he finds the problem easy enough to fix—the cold water supply line simple isn’t screwed in tight enough, and when he wiggles the whole contraption by the valves he finds that nothing has been tightened up to standard. A couple of years knocking the thing around had probably loosened up the locknut.
He elects to fix the whole problem in one go, while in the meantime you stand off to the side, watching him. He feels your eyes on his legs, trailing up to the hair on his belly exposed by his shirt riding up.
“Sir, I’m sorry, I should’ve said before,” you simper, “but I’m not really sure how I’m gonna pay for this.”
His cock jumps in his jeans, and he feels your gaze move to it as if it’s a physical touch.
He levers himself out a little and meets your eyes, keeping a stern expression on his face.
“I’m sure you’re gonna figure it out,” he says. Looking down at his groin and then back up at your face might be a touch unsubtle, but clear communication had been the most important lesson of all.
He slides himself back under, and pretends he doesn’t feel you approach, or lower to your knees between his spread legs. He ignores your gentle hands falling on the closure of his jeans, the pop of the button coming undone, the parting of the zipper as you pull it down.
“Of course, sir,” you say, “I’m sure I will.”
The softness of your hand meets his growing erection, caressing the head of his cock with your thumb—followed very close behind by the wet, liquid heat of your mouth.
next
#price x reader#john price#john price x reader#price x you#john price x you#price smut#mwritesprice#madi writes#this was a warm-up that got away from me
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Traitor part 8
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.
let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3
thank you again!
after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.
it never ends, does it?
apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.
it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.
you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.
you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.
your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.
it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
“hello?” you say as you answer the call.
“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”
you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”
you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.
“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.
she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:
“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”
you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.
why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?
your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.
laswell is coming here to do damage control.
you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.
you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.
but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?
you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.
and when you start something, you see it through.
you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.
price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.
“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”
“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.
“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.
“whatever she told you—”
“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”
price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.
“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”
“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.
“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.
“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.
and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.
you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.
like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.
on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.
in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.
when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.
it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.
it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.
and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.
what they condemned you to.
what he condemned you to.
he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.
price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.
“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.
“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.
he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.
instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.
“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.
“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.
and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.
but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?
you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.
more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.
blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.
you would’ve thrown it away anyways.
you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.
his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.
you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.
“done?”
and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.
it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.
because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.
and yet he didn’t stop you.
“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.
he shrugs. “you needed it.”
he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.
“least I could do,” he says.
you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?
“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.
maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.
“no,” he says, and you know he means it.
he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.
he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”
that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.
and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.
“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.
the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.
“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.
“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.
“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”
you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.
“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.
he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”
“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”
you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.
“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.
“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”
you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”
his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.
those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.
you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.
their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.
“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”
you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”
finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”
you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”
none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.
a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.
you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.
the driver doesn’t speak�� price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.
none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.
(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)
the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.
you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.
you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.
you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.
“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”
you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.
you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.
you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.
you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.
nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.
your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.
how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?
you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.
the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.
a new beginning, you think.
you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.
the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.
eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.
who else knows you’re here?
perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.
you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.
its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.
a new beginning indeed.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x reader#john price#simon riley x gn reader#simon ghost x reader#call of duty fic#gaz call of duty#soap call of duty#ghost call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#johnny mactavish#captain john price#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley angst#traitor!141!reader#traitor!reader#141!reader#141 x reader#task force 141#tf 141#call of duty angst#ghost x gn reader#ghost x you
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— how does your destined person feel about you right now? [detailed]
pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal reading! — 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!
— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏
current energies: it's quite likely that this person is going through a lot right now, which is causing them to overthink and have so much on their mind. they seem to have been overthinking many things in their life that they’re still trying to figure out. they’re probably talking to others and getting advice, but deep down, they know it’s something they have to work on and figure out on their own. a lot has been weighing on their mind, especially when it comes to connections. it’s likely that they’re ending cycles or bringing closure to situations that have caused them pain or emotional turmoil. they want to put an end to that, and now they’re carrying the burdens that come with closure and moving on. even though it might sometimes feel overwhelming, they understand that this isn’t the end of the world. they believe that better things are ahead, and as long as they stay persistent and know how to play their cards, they’ll get through this. there are many things in this person’s life that they want to move on from because they know it’s not doing them any good, and it’s just affecting their mental health and well-being. these days, they’ve been focusing on taking care of themselves, paying attention to their own feelings and their heart. but sometimes, they feel conflicted about how to feel about certain people. it seems like they’ve gone through some really painful moments with others, and now they’re unsure how to think about it all. part of them craves a sense of justice, wanting those people to get what they deserve. but there’s also a part of them that’s naturally kind, trying to brush it off and move forward.
feelings: this person wants to be with you as soon as possible. they’re really excited to meet you and already have so much love for you. they constantly wonder who their distant person is, what you’re going to be like, how you’ll look, and if you’ll love them as much as they’ll love you. there’s so much affection and tenderness they hold for you, and it’s something they can’t wait to give. they don’t just want to give you their emotional side, but also their material side. they want to provide for you, give you everything you need, and buy you whatever you want. i feel that once you meet, this person will be quick to show you how they feel. they won’t just express it through words or affection but also through actions. this is someone who will make you feel deeply loved and show you just how much you deserve it. they’re very caring, very nurturing, especially when it comes to a connection as strong as yours, which feels almost like a soulmate bond. they’ll feel even more sure about pursuing you and moving forward with you. you make this person feel incredibly stable. when they think of you, there’s this sense that they’re already complete, that they’ve become the person they want to be. the thought of you brings them a deep sense of stability, likely because they already know this connection will be something special. they feel happiness when they think about it, and they know that meeting you will be a turning point in their life. they’re aware that they’re going through some rough patches in their life right now, but the thought of you brings them so much peace. they know that when they finally get to be with you, they’ll find the happiness they’re searching for.
— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐
current energies: this person has been learning to feel more comfortable with themselves and finding contentment with what they have. it seems they’ve recently gone through situations that left them with a sense of lack, and now they’re trying to put the pieces back together. because of this, they’re beginning to realize their potential and finding emotional satisfaction from within, rather than seeking it externally. it’s likely that they’ve had a recent epiphany—a lightbulb moment—that shifted their perspective. they’re determined to leave behind past pains and situations they no longer want to deal with. this self-realization, that they deserve more and deserve to be happy, has sparked active changes in their life. they are very perseverant, and when they want something or are sure about it, they fight for it. they won’t let go unless they no longer feel like pursuing it or something significant happens. i feel like these days this person has been feeling quite confused about whether to pursue certain things or to let them go. it seems like they’re having a hard time distinguishing between what’s worth fighting for and what no longer has a solution. since they’re someone who really believes in fighting for what they want, it clashes with the idea of letting go. however, they’re starting to realize that there are aspects of themselves they need to change before moving forward with something new. right now, they’re in a phase of trying to understand that.
on the other hand, they’re also focused on creating a better environment for themselves, which involves their personal connections and friendships. they’re paying close attention to their circle of friends and acquaintances. it seems like there are some connections that have changed and no longer feel the same. they’re trying to figure out how to take action in this situation and how to let go of these feelings. deep down, they know that to feel better about these connections, they’ll need to let certain people go. overall, they haven’t been feeling their most stable, and they’re working through this to make things work in their favor. i'm hearing they might be attending someone's wedding too.
feelings: this person feels that your connection could be quite life-changing for them. it’s one of the things that draws them to you and makes them feel a deep, perhaps unconscious, attraction. however, when it comes to love, they might not be in the best place right now. they’ve grown up in an environment where those around them may not have been the best influences. because of this, they might have some toxic tendencies or have been involved with toxic people that they still need to move on from.
this awareness makes them think about you a lot. they are very conscious of the people they surround themselves with and the issues they need to leave behind. they worry that you might not like them because of their past or because of who they are now. they often find themselves wondering, "will they leave me once they get to know me better?" or "will they not want me because of my past behavior?" these worries definitely cross their mind whenever they think about you. in their heart, they truly want to give you everything they can, but they wonder if you will view this connection as fair, or if you’ll see their life as one that has been lived fairly. they don’t want to overwhelm you with all these details, so it’s likely they’ll open up to you gradually over time. they know some of their past actions weren’t ideal, and they feel regret and a bit of shame about that. they just hope you’ll still see them in a positive light once they share everything with you.
they’ve already been thinking about becoming the best version of themselves, but they need a bit of support or motivation to fully move out of their current mental state. they’ve been planning how to make these changes, so it’s just a matter of time before they put their plans into action. they’re really looking forward to this connection and have thought about you many times. they’re trying to stay optimistic about your future together and envision the best possible scenario. they’re aiming to avoid any negative thoughts, and they feel that once they’re around you and can communicate more, they’ll be able to express themselves fully and honestly. "i don't want to let them go" is how they'll feel.
— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑
current energies: this person has recently wrapped up a very challenging situation. they’re going through a lot of endings right now, which is a bit uncomfortable for them, but they understand it’s for their highest good. it seems they’ve just ended a connection with someone they cared about deeply. however, they discovered that this person had been deceptive or dishonest, and once these secrets came to light, they decided to cut ties abruptly. this person is very confident and tends to sever connections quickly when they feel wronged or when a situation is no longer beneficial. they don’t dwell on their feelings but focus more on the other person’s actions.
right now, they’re very practical and are concentrating on their stability and finances. they seem to be working hard on a project or business venture that’s aimed at increasing their financial security. this project might be in its early stages but has been on their mind for some time, or it's an idea they’ve wanted to bring to life for a while. they have a strong grasp of how to navigate life and make the most of each situation, which can be quite impressive. they’re aware that not all situations will be ideal, but they believe it depends on how one reacts and how much one lets it affect them. in addition, their perspective of the world might be influenced by their travels or interactions with people from various countries, which is likely tied to their business. they’re feeling very content with their current state and the place they’re in. they’re fulfilled with how they’ve handled things and how everything has turned out so far. however, as i mentioned at the beginning of the reading, they’re going through something emotionally. being a hard-working and somewhat workaholic person, this might serve as their escape. they’re so adept at what they do and at coming up with great ideas that their work becomes a refuge from their emotional struggles. the validation they receive from others provides a sense of relief and makes them feel better about themselves. when they get positive feedback or when their projects succeed, it feels like the most important thing to them, overshadowing everything else. while they’re currently satisfied with their position, i wonder how much more they can handle, as they’re already carrying some burdens.
feelings: when it comes to their feelings towards you and your connection, they feel a strong desire to manifest whatever it is that you want. they are working to feel as stable as possible so they can give you what you deserve, both emotionally and physically. however, there’s a part of them that questions whether they truly deserve someone like you. they wonder if they are worthy of you and this has them feeling quite conflicted.
they have strong feelings for you, but they also grapple with self-doubt about whether they’re deserving of this connection. they want to keep you close, not in a possessive way, but out of a genuine desire to protect and cherish you. having been alone for a long time or having had less fulfilling connections in the past, they worry about whether they will know how to handle a relationship with someone like you.
stability is very important to them, and they value it not only for themselves but also for their partner, especially emotionally. when it comes to your upcoming meeting, they will likely feel overwhelmed and stressed, but this is more about their own nerves than anything related to you. they will be anxious about what to say or do, but they are also looking forward to seeing how things will unfold. they believe that things will happen in their own time, and once you both achieve closure and fulfill what you need in your lives, everything will fall into place and manifest as it should.
𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !
hi! it's daphne here.
i'm currently offering personal readings for €7 and soulmate readings for €14 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!
thank you for being here!
#pick a pile#tarot#free reading#personal readings#pick a card#pile 1#pile 2#pile 3#pick an image#free tarot reading#tarot reading#pac tarot#pac#tarot messages#tarot pick a card#pac reading#pick a photo#level up journey#pick a picture#astrology#soulmate#astrology community#devi post#tarotcommunity#divination#tarot deck#witchcraft#astro posts#astrology notes#astro notes
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hidden 5
c/w: outlaw!rafe being his usual self towards pogue!reader, barry making an appearance, closure on the hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, mentions of murder & violence, slightly suggestive, fluffy ending, 18+ mdni!
wc: 3.5k
sooo this is the *actual* last part! (might write some blurbs for them at some point idk) thank u for reading love u <3
also him getting jealous was inspired by this ask
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Consciousness drags her out of the comfort of her slumber, forcing her to blink her leaden eyelids open to Rafe’s heavy and very much naked body weighing her down against the couch cushions.
She can feel his chest expanding with each lethargic inhale he takes and she’s momentarily disconcerted; entangled thoughts desperately trying to make sense of her current situation.
However, all too soon, the memories of last night cause her to let out a tired groan. What on earth was she thinking? Why would she let Rafe of all people fuck her? And more than once. She can’t even recall how many times she—
Suddenly, she’s reminded of the reason she stirred from her state of dormancy in the first place when she feels Rafe’s sturdy abdomen pressing down on her bladder.
“Ugh,” she lets the back of her head hit the armrest before trying to pry him off, albeit to no avail.
“Rafe? Can you...” she shoves at his shoulder.
However, he merely takes in a sleepy breath and shifts into a more pleasant position.
“Rafe, wake up,” she tries again, this time pushing at his face that’s resting comfortably in the crook of her sweaty neck. In response, he offers her a drowsy hum before pasting a sluggish palm over her lips to make her go quiet.
“Shh,” he silences her and she feels like slapping him because she’s about to pee on her couch and he’s hushing her, of all things.
She wraps her fingers around his limp wrist and yanks it away from her mouth with a huff. “I need to pee. Can you get off me, please?”
He lets out a dozy grunt before groggily raising his head to look at her; squinting due to the daffodil-colored rays of sunshine peeking from the windows and appearing just as foggy as her a few minutes ago.
He rubs a hand over his face, mumbling something incoherent under his breath and at last, removes his limbs that restrained her capability to move.
“Thanks,” she peeps out before getting up and scurrying off to the bathroom; hearing him slump back down onto the couch immediately after.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
After rinsing off the stickiness of last night in the steaming shower and changing into a pair of sweats, she realizes she’s starving. Hunger is eating away at her insides and along with the graphic recollections of her and Rafe’s late-night activities vividly jumping around her skull; she can already feel a headache lurking around the corner.
She’s in the process of cracking eggs on a pan when she hears Rafe entering the shower; the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the tiled floor following soon after. She begins to cut up some tomatoes to add into the mixture, when out of the blue, the doorbell rings.
She doesn’t think Rafe hears it since the water is still running in the bathroom, which is why she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do.
She figures that if it’s the police again, it would seem suspicious if it took her longer than normal to open it twice in a row now. Therefore, she turns off the stove and takes tentative steps towards the door.
Fleetingly, she wonders if she should simply act as if no one’s home since opening doors to strangers was what got her into this mess in the first place. At this point though, she doesn’t necessarily have the mental capacity to care.
She gingerly unlocks the door with her lip worried between her teeth, and behind it, stands a guy with hair as black as a crow and eyes as brown as coffee beans.
“Is Rafe here?” He asks with such a slow drawl it makes her wonder if he’s high on something other than just life.
And he doesn’t seem like a cop. But wouldn’t Rafe have told her if he was expecting someone?
“I don’t— I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s, um, he’s not here,” she decides to play it safe; the lie clumsily rolling off her tongue. However, she can tell that he’s not buying it.
“You sure? You tellin’ me he gave me the wrong address then?” He wonders with a lazy furrow of his dark eyebrows.
“Um, I don’t—”
“Barry, told you to call me before you get here,” Rafe’s low rumble suddenly interrupts her; making a shiver trickle down her spine because him being right behind her, freshly showered, reminds her a little too much of his first night here.
“Country club! Thought they got your ass already. Good to see you not in jail,” Barry exclaims loudly and takes the liberty of inviting himself in as if her home has turned into a public building free for anyone to just come and go as they please. At least he has the courtesy to close the door, she thinks.
He greets Rafe with a heartfelt pat on the back and she’s momentarily stunned when his mouth twists into a smile that would be considered warm and genuine; something she’s never had the luxury of receiving.
“Why you didn’t tell me you were staying with a princess?” Barry pushes at his chest playfully.
“Leave her alone, man,” Rafe rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“I ain’t do nothin’. Just statin’ the obvious here,” Barry raises his hands up in defense and the unexpected compliment makes her suppress a giddy simper.
“Whatever, just get your ass here, I need your help,” Rafe grumbles out as he begins walking towards her bedroom. Not even asking if he can go there because why would he?
“Ain’t nothin’ new about that,” Barry chuckles, revealing a golden tooth that glints under the light when he grins at her.
And there’s a familiarity in which they interact that makes her figure they’ve known each other for a long time. With the little knowledge she has, she then comes to the conclusion that Barry most likely plays a part in the side business Rafe briefly mentioned when she’d found out about the cop he’d killed.
She assumes all of it is also connected to the plastic baggies full of white powder in the glove compartment of his truck, because there’s no way Rafe needs that much coke just for personal use.
“We have to, uh, talk about some shit. So, go do something else, yeah?” Rafe looks over his shoulder at her.
“Right, um, okay,” she mumbles out before turning around to return to the safety of her kitchen.
“Damn, Rafe. That how you talk to her even though she be letting you hide here?” Barry questions as he follows after him.
“Shit, man, can you just— let’s just get this over with, alright? Don’t have all day,” Rafe mutters in response.
“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?” Barry’s humorous tone is the last thing she hears before the door closes; leaving her to resume preparing her breakfast with a weary sigh.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
A few days later, she hears Rafe’s voice from the living room as she’s thoughtlessly reorganizing her closet; folding shirts and pants and taking out clothes she no longer wears, since he still doesn’t allow for her to leave the house without him.
“Come watch this for a second?” His tone sounds almost excited when she pads over to stand next to him on the rug; looking over at him in question.
However, he merely nods towards the television screen and turns the volume higher.
“And then onto some more interesting news. The charges for Rafe Cameron, owner of Cameron Development, have been dropped due to no significant evidence found to prove him guilty. However, the investigation is still open and the police are doing everything they can in order to find the criminal behind the devastating murder that has shaken up the entire island for weeks now. In order to ensure everyone’s safety, we hope that you keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary and…”
Everything after that turns into muffled background noise as her jaw drops and her rounded eyes flicker over to Rafe.
“I’m a free man, Puppy,” he turns to face her with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
“How did you even…” she’s momentarily stunned; words withering away as she simply blinks up at him in surprise.
“Don’t want you to worry about it, alright?” He’s quick to dismiss her as he clicks off the TV.
“I’m, um, happy for you…even though you did kill the guy and—”
“Already told you, he wasn’t a good person and an even shittier cop, remember? And I’m gonna need you to never mention that shit again, think you can do that?” He turns serious all of a sudden; peering into her eyes with a warning.
“Y— yes,” her voice falters when he steps closer.
“Cause if you can’t, I’m gon’ have to do something you won’t like, you understand?” He gazes at her with such intensity, she can’t do anything but nod with her shoulders tense.
“You sure? Cause you’re kinda my only loose end here, and we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, would we?” His tall frame hovers over her as he leans down to mutter out the words, causing her to flinch.
“No, I promise. I’m not gonna say anything,” she squeaks out and means it.
Who would even believe her? After all, she doesn’t have any actual proof and even if she did, she thinks Rafe could easily just pay himself out of it. And she’s not particularly keen on finding out how far he’s willing to take his vengeance.
“Good,” he seems to relax some but a sense of dread washes over her anyway.
“But what if…someone threatens me or something?” She asks with caution.
“That’s not gonna happen. You always worry so much, just chill out for a bit, yeah?” He shrugs it off with an air of indifference she wishes she could possess as well.
“But it’s a possibility. How do you know someone didn’t see us together when people were looking for you?” She reasons with her mind racing.
“Listen, if someone threatens you…you come to me and I’ll fucking kill them for you, okay?” He suggests with complete seriousness.
“What? No! That’s not what I meant at all. I don’t want you to—”
However, she’s interrupted by amused laughter bubbling out of his chest.
“I’m joking. Stop being an annoying Pogue for one second, yeah? Think we should go out for dinner, hm? Let me, uh, thank you for your hospitality and shit,” he says as he smooths a palm over his buzzed hair.
“Like at a restaurant? You and me?” At the notion of them spending time together outside of all this, confusion tangles up her thoughts; making her forget all about her previous concerns.
“You’re so fucking weird. Yes, you and me. Who else? Can get whatever expensive shit you want too, how’s that sound?” He coaxes her to agree with the mellow tone he adds, however, not without making fun of her first.
“Um, okay…sounds great?” She can’t really grasp onto his motives in the headspace she’s currently in, merely assumes he wants to be on her good side so she wouldn’t change her mind about opening her mouth.
“Great. Need to, uh, take care of some things over at Figure Eight first, but be ready at seven,” he makes it sound like a threat, even if he’s not trying to scare her with a gun anymore.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
She doesn’t think she’s ever been at a restaurant this costly; everything on the menu more than she could ever afford. Rafe practically demands her to not pay attention to the price and get anything she wants, however, it’s proving to be quite challenging as she scans over the list of dishes in front of her with creased brows.
“You ready?” He asks with a hint of impatience.
“No, I can’t decide. There’s so many options and I don’t even know what half of them mean,” she mumbles out in distress.
“I’ll just, uh, order for you, yeah?” He suggests with a raise of his brows as he stretches out his arms.
At that, she swallows, desperately trying not to pay any mind to his large biceps practically on display.
“Okay, thanks,” she graces him with a grateful smile; feeling out of place with rich Kooks all around nearly suffocating her.
Being here with Rafe, of all people, feels strange. Not even a day ago, she was still practically held captive by him, even if the leash of his strict rules around her throat had loosened up considerably, and his overly aggressive tendencies had dwindled down to grumpy mutters and displeased glares over the course of the few weeks they’d known each other. Now, she’s solely bound to him by this muddy, grimy secret that she will probably take down to her grave.
And despite everything he’s done to her, in some peculiar way, she’s beginning to understand him. Because against all her morals, in a killer, someone who other people would consider a monster, she sees someone simply trying to survive in the harsh world with the crumpled cards life has dealt with him. And she isn’t all too sure how far her feelings of care towards the man branch out but what she does know, is that she doesn’t want him to go to prison. No matter what he’s done.
And she’s never even met Rafe’s father and he hasn’t talked about him to her, but she has this feeling that to be so violent and hostile, has to be learned from someone.
No one is born evil, even if she wouldn’t necessarily describe him as that.
In Rafe, she sees a boy who was forced to grow up too quickly; someone with the burden of his father’s heavy legacy weighing down on his shoulders with every breath he takes.
Therefore, she can’t find it in herself to be entirely too upset with him for the way he treated her, thinks she can live with it, even if it was wrong. Because looking back on it, in a way that makes no sense to her, it was also sort of thrilling to keep him hidden and follow along with his very much illegal activities. After all, she’s never really been one to break the rules.
“Are you guys ready to order?” The server’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts and makes her look up at a familiar face, slightly covered by sand-colored curls.
“Y/N? Long time no talk! How’re you doing?” Lucas, a guy she had a fling with last year meets her eyes with his surprised ones.
“Oh, hi. I’m good. What a crazy coincidence, didn’t even know you worked here,” she forces out a strained laugh because had she known, she would’ve asked Rafe to pick another restaurant.
“Actually, just started a few weeks ago. But since when do you eat on this side of the island?” He gives her a curious look.
“I don’t. Just a…special occasion and stuff,“ she steals a glance at Rafe who’s quietly observing their interaction with narrowed eyes.
And him talking to her right now feels entirely too humiliating since she had told Rafe about him, assuming the two of them would never meet.
“Right…anyway, haven’t seen you at the surf shop in a while, you still work there or?” Lucas continues with an enthusiasm she can’t quite reciprocate.
And it’s not like they ended up on bad terms — they weren’t even officially together — she just sort of withdrew from him because despite being an overall nice guy, she felt like he only cared about his own needs. More often than not went on about his day without even taking hers into consideration, both in and outside the bedroom.
“Yeah, yeah, I do, just had a little, um…family emergency. It was this whole thing, you don’t even wanna know the details,” she lies through her teeth; picking at the corner of her napkin as a distraction.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is everything okay now?” His jade eyes are sympathetic as he peers down at her.
“Yes, everything’s good. Think I’ll be able to return next Monday,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and tries to appear nonchalant.
“Cool…hey, I was actually wondering if you’d wanna catch up some time?” He scratches at the back of his head; seemingly nervous about her answer.
She blinks.
“Oh, um—”
“You gon’ take our orders at some point or just flirt with her for the next hour?” Rafe invites himself into the conversation with a scoff; tilting his head at him in intrigue.
And at that, Lucas finally turns towards him.
“Wait a second, weren’t you just suspected for murder?” He asks with slightly wide eyes.
“Nah, they dropped the charges cause they were tweaking. I didn’t do shit,” Rafe huffs out, the lie rolling off his tongue far too easily.
“Oh, right, right. That must, um, suck,” he rambles, seemingly intimidated by him.
“Yeah, it does,” Rafe mutters, and him clearly trying to fight off a roll of his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by her, even if she’s not entirely sure why his mood has suddenly turned sour.
Lucas is quick to fill in the silence that follows soon after. “Right, so, what would you two like to eat?”
And after he’s left with their orders, Rafe turns to look at her with an annoying smirk overlaying his features. “That the guy who couldn’t make you come?”
“Rafe! He can still hear you,” she hisses and looks over her shoulder; relieved to discover he’s already out of earshot.
“Don’t really care. That shit’s just embarrassing for him. What did you see in him anyway? Seems like an ass,” he furrows his brows at her.
“You’re talking as if you’re any better?”
“At least made you come, no? Multiple times, may I add. Or you need a reminder?” He nudges her foot under the table with his own; the self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face making her subtly kick him back.
However, he merely wraps his fingers around her ankle; ceasing her futile attempt at bruising his leg with a chuckle rumbling from his chest.
“You seriously just tried to kick me? Didn’t seem to complain when you were begging for me to—”
“Rafe! Why are you talking so loud?” She whines, trying to release the limb he’s captured, however, his grip is strong and she’s not getting free until he decides she is.
“Calm down, no one here cares. You Pogues never know how to relax, do you?”
“I am relaxed!”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he taunts before finally letting go of her foot and she quickly pulls it back so he can’t grab for it again.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
“Can I ask you something?” She swallows something akin to sand in her throat; disrupting the sound of their silverware clinking against the ceramic plates as they contently fill up their bellies.
“Hm?” His eyes flicker over to meet hers.
“After this, um, are we just gonna go back to our sides of the island and never talk again?” There’s a wistful hue coloring over her question.
“That’s what you want?” He raises his brows and she blinks; slightly taken aback by him not immediately answering with a yes.
“Um, I don’t…know. What would we even do?” She takes a sip of water to appear indifferent to the entire situation. However, she’s failing miserably.
“I mean, could think of a couple of things we could do…” he trails off with a smug grin, causing her to huff out a soft laugh.
“Thought you didn’t hang out with Pogues?” She narrows her eyes at him, trying to figure out if he’s even taking this conversation seriously.
“Yeah, well, guess I could make an exception. After all, you did help a Kook, so you’re not really a Pogue anymore, are you?”
“Okay first of all, that makes zero sense and I only helped you, cause you were gonna kill me,” she states, lowering her tone towards the end.
“Stop saying that shit, Puppy,” he hisses, looking around to ensure no one heard it. “Wasn’t gonna kill you, just needed you to listen, alright?”
“Well, you could’ve been a bit more polite about it,” she rests her elbows on the table, tone accusatory.
“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? That what you want me to say? A lot was going on and I wasn’t thinking clearly. Sometimes it’s, uh, hard for me to control my anger and shit,” he mutters out the last part, as if it’s difficult for him to admit.
“Yeah, I figured,” she’s smiling now; her attempt at making him feel guilty going down the drain because him trying to defend his behavior for once, is sort of entertaining.
A scowl covers his face at the realization that she’s merely trying to make him sweat for her own enjoyment. “You know, I still think I should’ve picked another house,” he grants her a lighthearted glare.
“Yeah, me too,” she nods in agreement.
And at the sight of her barely contained grin, he can’t stop his mouth from curling up as well; both of them quietly giggling at the entirely too bizarre of a situation, that for some reason, feels far too much like a first date.
It’s almost as if they’re meeting for the first time all over again.
#they weren’t even supposed to be this soft at the end but ig i'm too much of a hopeless romantic to not make it a little sappy <3#& have no idea how this became the longest part of this story since originally wasn't even supposed to write it?#outlaw!rafe#pogue!reader#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fic#stockholm syndrome#rafe cameron outer banks#obx x reader#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx smut#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx
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glory box - jude bellingham x reader.
quick sum: pr stunts looks good on paper and online, but no one ever truly know what happens behind closed doors. when deciding to abruptly terminating your contract, you’re faced with a unsettlement that can’t be resolved until you confess the truth and nothing but the truth.
wc: 7k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa🗣️: this contain smut so minors please dni! 🔞 content ahead contains unprotected p and v, being tied up, handjob, oral on f, and being edged. a bunch of angst but fluff as promised! my longest story yet and I really love this :PP insta au's included throughout the story! like always hope you enjoy! 🤍
the streets were quieter than usual, always filled with people walking up and down, on their bikes, or with loud cars driving by. it could have been due to the weather, the grey skies and cold air, immediately making people rather stay inside than stroll around. you would rather be those people, either finish packing for your move to germany, or sit on the couch and eat sweets all night.
the decision was made rapidly. being accepted to uni and the internship that would help you start of your career, going full ride as long as you made no mistakes or fell behind. you felt utterly grateful and full of joy, but that would mean moving away from the place you called home, to a newer city alone.
here you had your uni friends, and some family, you weren't alone. leaving all this behind meant leaving them which you weren't prepared for. no one is ever prepared for a sudden goodbye, you hated goodbyes, it made you feel even guiltier. it wasn’t easy to break the news, with many tears and reminiscing, though the support would always be there, their words of encouragement making you feel less regretful.
although you had one thing left to do, which was terminate the pr contract with no other than him. jude bellingham. the pr stunt that was made strictly professional turned into no other a friends with benefits situation. it was risky business, and became awkward when strangers or close friends asked you personal questions about the relationship. kids, marriage, how long you had been together, how you met. your life became a lie and you were tired of that.
was it a foolish idea? totally. but you needed the money nonetheless, school became expensive and then you hardly could eat because you could never afford the groceries after paying utilities, your job not paying you enough even after the amount of work you put in. if there was another way, you wouldn't have hesitated to take it.
you weren't looking forward to this, because saying goodbye to jude would make every plan and decision you made official. you would have had your pr manager do it for you but you felt the need for closure, even though it would be hard to receive that when jude was famously known everywhere. you and him were famously known everywhere. the it couple.
they only saw what was posted online or on paper. a happy smiling couple walking into a dinner setting hand to hand, a media event consisting of many red carpet photos, being “discreetly” caught late at night stealing kisses, oh don't get started on the game day photos, or photo dumps jude did on his feed and story dedicated to you… they never knew what happened behind closed doors. it was all fake.
the door opened, the creak making you squint your eyes and cover your ear. you saw jude walk in with the guy who made all of the pr stunt come to light, jonah. jude sent you his pearly white smile, a sudden wave of nausea hit you, reminding you about the first time you came here to officially sign off on the deal, now it was you terminating it.
you quickly greeted jonah, avoiding jude because now you felt it impossible to do what you wanted to do. his confusion went unnoticed by jonah, but you could see hurt flash him, as jude’s body language completely changed. his hand trying to discreetly catch your attention to him. if there was one thing jude hated more than anything, it was being left out.
“so to what do we owe this pleasure, y/n? must be something good?” jonah sipped onto his warm latte completely oblivious. you pursed your lips and looked up, feeling jude’s brown eyes drown into you. he watched as you pulled out a manilla folder, your hands slightly shaking as you opened it to reveal the contract.
“i’m here to terminate the contract we have,” you said softly with a barely present smile, jonah choked on his drink, turning away to cough loudly in pure shock. you couldn't see it but you could almost feel the plastered face of confusion on jude’s face at your words. jude was stunned, not able to process your words. terminate our contract?
“what are you talking about? what are you on about?” jude spoke as his brummie accent popped out more than usual, furrowing his brows as his hand finally touched your thigh trying to get you to look at him, but it only irritated him more as your attention was on jonah.
“you said if we wanted out, of this,” you pointed at the two of you, the empty space, “we had to give each other, well everyone, a two months heads up,” you stuttered, feeling your nervous system go crazy.
“i spoke to you about this a while ago, but i made my decision…” you said surely, jonah nodding his head either in affirmation or still slightly stunned by your sudden loss in the deal. “y/n, i don't get why though? we still have a couple of months left? we have upcoming events and charities!” jude said with a crazed look.
when jude saw you couldn't face or let alone speak to him like an adult, he scoffed and leaned back onto the chair, “no! i don’t agree to this. i won't agree to terminate the contract.” so many thoughts raced into his head, desperately wanting to know why you wanted out, or if someone was bothering you. he wanted to fight for you, to keep you away from whatever was pushing you away.
“i’m afraid it is in the contract jude… if the other party wants out they have the right to do so… with or without the other person’s agreement,” jonah spoke defeatedly, running a hand along his forehead. “i’m guessing you know the terms and conditions that apply to this right?” he asked facing you, “yes, my pr person told me about it. i'm fully aware of the consequences.”
jude couldn't wrap his head around the fact you would be going along with this. that in just two weeks you would be gone, and a present reminder of the taint you left behind. was it the sudden fame you got that bothered you into doing this? had he done or said something to push you away? was there someone else who got your attention?
that made him even more upset, and jealous even. thinking of someone else making you happy when it wasn't him next to you. he envied the person if there was one, who got to hold your hand, smile at you, or dared to look into your eyes. those eyes he watched rolled back as he hit that spot that made you shiver breathless, the eyes that glistened when you laughed, eyes that he could get lost into, the eyes that never lied. even if the contract didn't state it like he envisioned, you were his.
maybe it was a mistake to start a habit or create that barrier of awkwardness when you agreed to have what you had. but soon he realized just how attached he was to you, calling whenever he felt the need to be next to you, making unscheduled dates to see you even if it was for an hour or two, always having his arm around you no matter where you went.
“it’s so beautiful here!” you said excitedly, with your eyes dazed and smile as you stared into the tulip field. you ushered him to hurry, immediately walking to the rows of flowers that layed ahead of you. he couldn’t stop watching, the way the sunset had a glow on you as you leaned down every now and then to smell the flowery scent.
his hands engulfed your from behind, making you laugh loudly and turning to hug him thanking him quickly. It didnt feel fake, it felt real, the way his heart stopped everytime you spoke or laughed, when you pointed in the distance, when you told him a childhood story of how you became obsessed with gardens.
“if i could buy this field, it would all be yours. i would do anything to see you this happy and excited every day… you’re so beautiful y/n…” he tucked your hair back and kissed you. it felt exactly how he planned the date, with butterflies and a sense of home.
“i’ll have the terminated contract ready by next early next month. it will be signed by me and jude by then, you can drop them off at the office after you sign,” jonah said. the three of you said nothing, not a single peep or action. you jumped, the table shaking as the drinks almost spilled, when jude stood up and walked out and yelled out, “this is bullshit!”.
your heart thumped in apprehension, knowing jude reacted the way you pictured it. your eyes followed him as he rapidly walked out, disappearing into the crowds of people by the intersection. your eyes stung, feeling the irritation and picturing just how red they would get, jonah squeezed your hand in comfort, “do you wanna talk about it? i know it’s not my place to ask, but i’m open to hear…”
you hesitated to speak but you felt like you owed it to him at least, “i’ve accepted to move abroad for school and work, and i’m moving away soon. i thought about it closely enough and i just don't think physically and mentally could’ve managed this pr relationship with my daily life. i did it most off for a new chapter and start, to leave out the old and bring in the new.”
“well, first of all congratulations! i’m very proud of you for always being a tough fighter and always dedicated to your studies. it takes a warrior to do that especially when dealing with a contract like this, having to judge your every move and ignore the comments they say. like you said, if you felt the need to begin something new, go for it! you’re young and smart, and i know this move will be perfect,” jonah said encouraging.
“and i’m glad you were able to think of the risks and sacrifices you would’ve faced if you continued it. the traveling, not being able to focus on studies or on the job, the fake smiles and interviews, plastering your face here and there for companies knowing you weren't happy. it doesn't make you selfish, quite frankly it makes you stronger, y/n,” jonah continued.
“i know it isn't just that though... something deeper happened between you and jude. whatever it is i feel like you should tell him before it's too late. even a blind bird could see the tension, i think that is why it made your relationship even more believable… it didn't look like a pr stunt to me, especially with the hidden glances.”
you rapidly blinked the tears that threatened to fall down your hot cheeks, forcing yourself to smile and show no indication of how the move, jude, terminating the contract made you feel. blinking away at the image of jude’s face being hurt, you never wanted to hurt him, but the inconsistency the two of you had become insufferable.
while what you and jude were doing made you feel alive, you wanted more. which scared him as his sole focus was football. it should've never happened, it was all a mistake, and you hated yourself now more because of it. for allowing yourself to get attached, to be consumed away by his words and kisses, for making you believe there was something more than stupid words on a sheet of paper.
you sat quietly on the carpet, the paintbrush in your hand stroking the white canvas, with different lines and shapes, colors and patterns as you painted. jude had his tongue slightly peeking, a look of concentration as he focused on perfecting every trace of color on his canvas.
“jude?” he replied with a hum, still focused on painting.
it was a topic you thought about every time you had sex, or shared an unexpected kiss. would this probably ruin things maybe… but it would mean you tried. you sighed and nervously chuckled, your thumbs running on the pads of your fingers as you took a deep breath an asked, “after the contract ends, where do we go from here? us i mean…”
his head slowly rose up… an eyebrow raised with a face of questioning. he didn’t anticipate you asking this, taken at back and chuckled a bit. your smile fell, feeling embarrassed as you had the urge to scratch the tip of your brow in nervousness. He cleared his throat and took a sip of water, his eyes bored into yours.
“well, we end of course… the contract ends so do we, no? we could still see each other, when we feel the need to you know, but i don’t see why we would continue this? whatever you're trying to imply? remember this is just for public figures, for the two of us to benefit from it… its all an act. it's all fake…”
you felt as your heart was taken out of you, empty and felt lied to. all an act? all fake? you knew it was a pr stunt, but you thought maybe he would feel the same for you after sharing constant nights and kisses together. Was there anything inside that maybe felt the slightest bit for you? with a painful smile you responded.
“oh… right.”
“please don’t tell him jonah. not a single peep of what we spoke…” you pleaded, wiping away a tear that let out. jonah opened his mouth to deject but closed it, understanding you needed time to process what was going on in your life. he licked his lips and closed the folder, standing up and buttoning his blazer, “please don't make the mistake of leaving knowing there's more that needs to be said to him. you’ll regret it…”
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spottedcelebreity
liked by: 349,908, and others
spottedcelebrity: after recent rumors of the couple splitting up, it seems like jude and y/n are together. what is your opinion on them? live show is present at 9pm so stay tuned.
comments:
user34: i still think its a pr stunt... theres no way they've been together so long.
username3: he looks so good!!! y/n is a lucky woman to have jude as her bf.
user50: the flowers, he is so perfect.
username21: fuck jude, i want to see y/n? ik my queen ate with her fit!!
username589: i swear, how are they still together? they weren't posting at all like they used to?
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the limo ride was quiet, soft music playing in the background as you nervously bit the nail on your thumb. your leg bounced rapidly, your dark gown making flowy movements, attempting to distract yourself from the over 6ft tall man who sat beside you. before you could successfully terminate the contract, there was a club charity event downtown, which would be your last appearance together.
you would’ve thought your “relationship” ended that day at the restaurant, but jonah still needed the two of you to post content, even if it was a small glimpse because technically you still had those two months left. you didn't want to get sued or be treated worse, for his and your sake you agreed. a month and a half filled with quiet silence, unspoken feelings, and forced smiles.
you couldn’t bring yourself to tell jude you loved him, that for you jude meant more than a stupid contract, but he obviously wasn't ready for that. that didn't stop him from talking to other girls and making you feel less without knowing. he never was ready for more with you, focused on other people and things, and you really wanted to avoid another heartbreak before moving. the idea of never being enough for him hurt you, because after so long you sacrificed what you had in life to be with him. your friends, your family, your privacy.
“i know we aren't on best terms but let’s keep it civil,” jude suddenly spoke up, making you nod carefully and look out at the window again. jude’s hand itched to interlock with yours, looking down to see you wearing the rings and bracelet he got for you adorned on your hand.
he fisted his hand and knocked it on his thigh gently, a million thoughts raced his head as to whether the club dinner would go to plan and no one suspecting a thing. he was nervous as lately there have been so many headlines saying you had broken up. jude wasn’t stupid and he knew you were hiding something from him, he just didn't why you hid it from him.
even though you had been nervous, it didn't stop you from reaching over and grabbing his larger palm and conjoining them together with yours. this was his day today, and the good persona in you wanted to assure he wouldn't be a mess thanks to your situation and feelings. your thumb softly stroked his skin, making jude smile inside, as butterflies appeared in his chest.
“i know i don't say it enough, but thank you for everything you've done for me. the traveling, sacrifices, events, the fake smiles… everything we did together,” jude said knowing this would be his final chance to make things right. he could feel your hand loosen its grip, giving him big eyes as you heard him talk. “i am going to miss you… so much y/n.”
“me too jude,” you gave him a small smile, leaning up and pressing a faint kiss on his cheek to avoid leaving a print, but he wouldn't have cared either way, he loved when you did that. he wanted to relish every last second knowing it meant you'd never seen him again. he couldn't tell but you were a nervous wreck, you pushed your feelings aside once again to calm him, but deep down all you could feel was cold air and a pit in your stomach at his words. “i am going to miss you y/n… so much…”
you so badly wanted to run away in that moment, for allowing those words to mean more than they should. with a heavy heart and shaky hands you stepped out and walked out hand to hand inside the event center, jude glancing down every now and then to check in. your hand found home around his bicep, faking all the smiles and laughs when the media team asked both of you questions, complimenting him for his season so far, making sure to be the supportive girlfriend you have been so far.
you immediately downed the glass of champagne as soon as the waiter offered, fanning your face because the room became hot. you said your hello’s to other wags there, taking pictures and talked with them as the night passed. you stayed close to where jude was as you watched him talk with his teammates and coaching staff.
you checked your socials and immediately found yourself clicking on his story, a bereal picture taken of you when you were in the car when you had held his hand looking out and the small kiss print selfie of him. you giggled and hearted it, scrolling along some fan pictures and comments filled with relief as you two were still together.
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spottedcelebrity
liked by: 547,768, and others.
spottedcelebrity: y/n was seen wearing a glamorous dress, as she approached her boyfriend jude who waited outside their car with open arms. the couple seemed to have missed each other as their hug lasted a minute before sharing a quick kiss. what do we think about these two?
comments:
user39: same old same old.
username1: i think jude could do way better than her...
↪️user45: no way? i honestly think with his lifestyle SHE could do better than someone who runs for a ball every day.
user23: she looks so beautiful, shes so gorgeous always! 💕
username88: anyone hear the rumor about her moving away?👀
↪️ username3: WHAT
↪️ user43: me too! some wag gossip page posted it but we don't know if its true.
↪️ user73: if she moves away that means they break up...
↪️ spottedcelebrity: well that being said... stayed tuned for our 9pm live show...👀
user44: i'm so happy they're together! she's so supportive and such a good person to judge :(((
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even though the night was dedicated to him, you still had your fun. playing a game of poker and winning while sitting on jude’s lap and feeling him pepper kisses on your shoulder delicately, danced with the girls, and took picture with them at the booth. you clapped loudly as jude had been awarded a small trophy for the season, when he returned he kissed your lips softly, savouring the moment by leaving a last kiss on your forehead.
your hands slightly scratched the back of his neck as you slowed danced together, it was so late but no one wanted to leave. your feet ached but you could care less as you wanted to hold him like you were, to appreciate him for the last time. words didn’t need to be said, the way you both held each other said enough.
the sudden rush of sadness hit you, feeling your hands come to a halt, and a desire to be honest. it wouldn’t matter two weeks from now. two weeks from now you’d be living a different life than currently, attempting to forget every trace of jude. beginning a new chapter and living life to its fullest.
“i haven’t been honest with you lately jude…”
jude swallowed hard, grabbing the back of your head gently and pulling you to see your watery eyes and biting your lip. “talk to me. say what you have to say. believe me, you’ll be doing us both a favor by saying what you have to say. no matter how much it hurts or feels… put me out my misery. i need to know why you're doing this. to us…”
his hand remained there, holding you in his place, with his jaw clenched, his soft glistening eyes begging you for answers. your chest flooded with warmth, “if i do say what's on my mind… i’m afraid i’ll do the biggest mistake and regret… i’ve tried in the past, and it always take a toll…”
“i’m moving to germany,” you deadplanted. jude released a breath, stuck in place, he scowled and gave you an unsure side smile. “what do you mean moving to germany? what for? for how long?” he asked with a insisting tone, brows tucked in. he could handle a couple months top, but forever is something he couldn’t do. it was becoming too late and your words were becoming his biggest nightmare become reality.
“jude, what is the most thing that scares you the most?” the interviewer asked. jude thought about the answer, tapping his bearded chin with his index finger, a taunting smile with playful eyes. you stifled a laugh, covering your mouth not wanting to seem disrespectful.
it was you. to lose you.
“probably my girlfriend y/n. it’s my biggest fear yet, to think of anything happening or her not being with me? yeah that’s what scares me the most,” he nodded as your mouth agape, you offered the camera a nervous smile. just when you assumed you couldn’t be more in love, this was the tip of the iceberg.
“i’m moving for school, i’ve been accepted to their program and their internship that can help me later on in my career... i genuinely didn’t think i’d get accepted but i did, and i’m doing it…” you told. jude shook his head in surprise, blinking rapidly to see if this was actually happening. jude was attempting to comprehend, how you could’ve kept this secret so long away from him.
everything was making sense to him. the random cancelations, when you didn’t text back, when you abruptly left the next morning after having sex, no more ‘good morning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, how you dodged his kisses even when it was the two of you alone. he saw all the signs but ignored them. it was his fault. for not being able to see how things were being portrayed.
jude grabbed your hand, leading you out to a private hall in the venue, and then outside to a white balcony. you tried to keep up, but with your heels and urgency to run it became difficult. some of his teammates and wives gave you suspicious looks, making you give them a reassuring smile and mouth a “we’ll be right back.”
jude paced back and forth on the concrete, clearly stressing, you sat on the small bench by the door. “you were just gonna get up and leave? just like that? without saying anything to me?” he asked his voice cracking, walking over to you. “i mean you wouldn’t care? you said so yourself that day, that when the contract ends we end,” you quoted his words.
jude felt guilty because he remembered he had said that. he could still see the painful smile on your face when he said those words. “i don’t get you jude. one day you want me, the next day you don’t? why would it matter to you if i left? all you’ve made me feel is like a shitty person. you use me one day, give me hope something could happen between us just for you to push me away. yeah, i sure do matter to you,” you sassed.
“it does matter to me. you matter to me. do you think i wouldn't feel anything for you after this year and a half?”
“well, i don’t know jude. what do you think? i’ve constantly shared what i feel when i’m around you, and you don’t even bother, so why should i? it hurts me, i feel embarrassed at the amount of times i tried, but it will never be enough for you. we’re in this pr mess because of you!” you yelled out. it wasn’t right to blame him, for everything including the pr, you just couldn't hold back on the anger you felt. after holding it for so long.
“i’m sorry but you agreed to it remember? you had your reasons i had mine,” jude retorted. “this is why. this is what i was afraid of. the constant arguing, not being able to make time for each other, the trust issues. i’m scared of losing you even if it is due to the smallest thing. i hate thinking of you not being in my life because it hurts me. to lose you would hurt me.”
“you’re just saying that..”
“i’m not just saying that. it’s how i feel about us and for you. my whole life has been dedicated to football and quite frankly i don’t know if i’m enough for you. i don’t know how to do all this… i don’t have the experience, though it feels right being with you. with or without the contract. i hope you know what i’m getting to… you’re more than enough y/n.”
something inside you want to not to believe him that it would be one of those moments again. but the way he sat here begging with his eyes for you not to go made you understand there was more to what he was saying. “all those times i pushed you away i thought i was doing what’s best but turns out it was the opposite. i’m tired of that, i just want to start fresh. i won’t hold you back from your dream, but please, try to understand me, ” jude pleaded.
“i do understand you jude, it's just troubling to find a solution to this after the amount of times we pushed each other away,” you said with your voice cracking. “i just wanna be yours…” you confess tears sliding down your cheeks, unable to get rid of the pain and chill feeling you experienced.
“you are mine baby… from the moment you walked into that office, when we signed those papers, after our date in the tulip fields, you’ve always been. i was just a coward to continue letting my overthinking get in the way of our love,” he pulled you onto his lap, stroking your hair back, “please don’t leave me here alone… i love you y/n.”
“you love me?” you stuttered tears no longer coming out watching jude with wide eyes to see if you heard properly. your heart hammered in your chest, jude felt like he could hear his own pulse beat rapidly, he was finally expressing how he felt and there was no holding back. he wanted to make sure you knew how he felt, that you were on the same page as him.
“how could i not? you changed my soul from a dark place to where now i picture us in that field of tulips. the moment i met you i knew you were special, everything about you captivated me, your smile, laugh, eyes, your kindness. i know i’m not big on communication, but it feels like a relief to finally say this,” jude kisses your wrist thumb tracing over your knuckles as he continues. “i love you, and to have someone who loves me like you do, is so grateful…”
“let’s get out of here jude…”
the bedroom door to his room opened quickly, jude placing you on the floor before going over and shutting it. he strides over again, grabbing your face not caring about your makeup, and leans down to capture your lips with his. your hands settled locked on his wrist, allowing your body to rest at his mercy.
“it scared me to think you would go away and be alone. where i can’t protect you or hold you like this when i please,” jude whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “don’t ever do that to me again. i can’t afford to lose you baby, ever,” jude confessed tucking a stand of hair back, closing his eyes and allowing the moment to pass.
“i promise i won’t jude. you have my word.”
jude placed soft kisses all over your collarbone, his beard tickling you as his hand moved down your spine to slowly unzip your gown. your head felt cloudy as his eyes stared at the black lacy set of lingerie, roaming over every beauty mark and parts he wanted to see uncovered. “to think you were walking around with this underneath without me knowing…” jude tsked.
jude kisses a small mole by your boob “every inch,” then down to a faint scar on your shoulder “of you…”, he ran his tongue along your skin, making you lose balance and squeeze your legs together, “is perfect. so perfect and beautiful.”
“jude…” you said shakily, he hummed, his hands gripping your waist and bringing you to him. “don’t get shy with me baby… i’ve seen you like this many times. this feels different because we’ve now said i love you to each other…” jude kisses your lips fervently, groaning at your sweet taste once again.
“do you have any idea how crazy you make me feel?” jude asked, ending the question with a ‘hmm’. “how long i waited to hear you say those words? how you consume my everyday thoughts…” jude groaned, and squeezed your ass making you grip his biceps tightly. “i want to make you all mine. not on a sheet of paper, here tonight…”
“then what are we waiting for jude? i'm here…” you say breathlessly, “i’m all yours with or without that stupid contract.”
the kiss was different from the one he gave you in the hall an hour ago. this kiss was filled with urgency and neediness, yet also with undeniying love. he felt you crumble for him, your hand on his cheek not wanting for him to pull away. he couldn’t pull away, addicted to how you tasted, how your lips bit his bottom one and watched it pull back.
he walked you over to the bed, your legs spreading for him as your back hit the silk sheets. your back arched at the cold feeling and sensation, pulling away from the kiss and let out a small whine. jude kisses your jaw and knee, standing up with his lips slightly swollen and tainted with your lipstick, gulping at the sight of your body.
he made sure you were watching, your eyes stuck on his big hands slowly remove his suit jacket. his fingers slowly unbuttoning the white shirt, revealing his bare torso, abs and happy trail that you wanted to touch. he swallowed a breath, looking at the way you thighs suddenly clenched closed as he removed his belt and dress pants.
your chest raised up and down, your propped arms now itching to be closer to jude as he got on the bed with you. “can i touch you jude?” your voice low, jude’s eyes going wide before nodding. you crawled over to him, where he layed on his back just with his black calvins and his prominent big bulge. you bit the inside of your cheek, filling the empty spot where you would cuddle his right side.
you kissed his lips teasingly, hearing a small groan escape his throat, trailing down to his neck sucking the spot beneath his pulse, down to his chest which rapidly began to rise at your actions. “is there anything you want me to do?” you ask shyly sitting up, feeling intimidated by his brown eyes that were darker than usual. “take this off for me…” at his deeper voice he helped you unclip the lace bra, groaning at the soft flesh of your boobs, erect nipples reaching his view.
“you have the most perfect body y/n…”
your hand slowly traced down his happy trail, nails raking, observing the way his abs sucked in struggling to calm down. “relax jude…” you said tauntingly with a smirk, jude closed his eyes in desire as he felt your hand reach inside his boxers. he shivered feeling your erect nipples touch against the warm skin on his side, now fully hard as you tucked him out his boxers.
you slowly stroked his shaft, hand barely being able to wrap around his complete girth. your thumb circled the tip, pre-cum oozing and adding a layer of lube. he felt hard and heavy against your palm, kissing his neck to add to the satisfaction he was feeling. his right hand squeezed your ass cheek, as his left palm clenched the sheets beneath him.
the way you slowly yet squeezed him, was adding fire to the pit of his stomach. he couldn’t focus on anything, rolling his eyes back everytime you squeezed him or gave him doe eyes. “fuckkk y/n… you’re making me feel so good baby… keep doing that… just like that…” jude moaned, squeezing your ass cheek again moving around.
you continued the rhythm, feeling your arousal spreading as you heard and felt the way you made him feel. his groans, the way his adam’s apple bobbed, his low dazy eyes watching your small hand stroke him. he was so close, you increase his high by beginning to stroke faster, “like this jude?” you asked knowing the answer. “just like that… oh shit… shit i’m so close y/n. you're gonna make me cum…” you kissed him, hiding the loud moans he released as he shook around almost trembling.
you giggled hearing him chuckle deeply. “look at the mess i made because of you…” you hid in the crook of his neck feeling almost too shy and embarrassed to face him. you cleaned your hand with the rag, looking at jude when you licked a small stripe off your finger, jude immediately grabbed your hips and turned you over.
he removed the lacy thong, bringing you down to where your sex met where he tucked himself back into the boxers still hard even after cumming. the black tie he wore was placed by the night desk. he knelt down, your pussy glistening and begging to be touched, eaten. he took his arm and tugged you closer, watching the way you anxiously waited for him to do something.
you felt his tongue slowly lick from your entrance to your clit, arching your back in pleasure, a hand coming to play with your boob as you felt him dig in deeper. he knew exactly how you liked it, the places, the movements, he was enamored with how delicate and sensitive you were. “no… please jude…” you whined, looking down to see him smirking when he stopped his movements.
“patience baby… relax for me y/n…” he kissed both your hip bones, the skin at the bottom of your belly button and down to your inner thighs, he was teasing you, drawing out your long-awaited orgasm as much as possible. “that’s not fair jude. i gave what you wanted, what you asked for…” you say out of breath.
he placed a messy kiss on your clit, the bundle of nerves then sucked between his lips as he pulled away again. you moved around the bed, finding it hard to stay still as he continued to devour you, moaning and biting your lip. “if you keep moving around i won't let you cum…” he mocked, watching you rapidly shake your head no.
“then do something about it…” you sassed back. he raised his brow, coming back up from between your legs, glancing to the black tie that was placed on the stand. “you would like that no? for me to tie you up?” he taunted, leaning over to grab the slim material. he asked you first and you agreed giving him your wrists, feeling as he tied them on the headboard.
he returned to his original spot, his large hands smoothing your sides as you struggled to pull away. he gave you a messy kiss yearning for more, jude circled his tongue on your nipple sucking the bead as you arched your back, his tongue traced all the way down to your clit, where you let out a raw moan.
he held you down on your hips, feeling as his tongue entered you, he was being messy, being able to hear the heavy breathing and slurping he did as jude continued eating you. the familiar heat in your stomach returned, if he kept up with this, you would be on the edge of releasing. “i’m s-s-so close jude… please don’t stop…” you sobbed, pulling your hands from the hold on the headboard.
the intrusion of his two fingers had you shivering in pleasure, moaning his name loudly. you tugged on the fabric, jude pumping in and out as he took control again. He licked your clit teasingly, going up and down and side to side. “oh my god,” you moaned in relief as your orgasm hit you, your face tucking to your arm as your legs shook, jude still pumping and licking.
he propped back up, sucking the juices from his fingers, watching how your chest rose heavily trying to calm down from your high. jude undid the tie, leaving one wrist still wrapped with it, he kissed you sweetly hearing a hum of delight from you, “doing so good for me y/n… turn to your side for me,” he asked and you obliged.
you laid on your side, giving jude your free wrist back to him where he tied them back up securely. you heard him move around the room, guessing he was probably fully undressing himself. he returned back, hovering over you as his tip poked your coated walls… you bit your lip in anticipation.
jude entered you, let out a small gasp from your lips as your nails dug into your palms feeling him thrust deeper into you. you could feel all of him, how hard he was, how desperate he was, how big he was, he fully stretched you out and you loved the feeling. you couldn’t hold back the whines and whimpers you let out, the position you were in allowed you to feel everything, as he continued to thrust into you.
“not so soon y/n…” he pulled back, he could feel your walls clamp down on him, squeezing the life out knowing you were approaching your second orgasm. “no! no, not again please jude…” you pleaded for him to make you cum, he gently placed you on your back, hands tied behind you now. he spread your legs open, leaning down as he thrusts into you again, your head going to the side moaning, “jude, you feel so big… so good…”
“oh shit, shit shit…” jude grunted, kissing your neck and leaving a small suckle behind, his hands wanting to give up and crash his body on top of you. the way he was manhandling you had you close to seeing stars and cloud nine. his thrusts came to a halt, grabbing you gently to pull you up and into his chest. he undid the complete tie, your hands finding home around his neck.
jude extended his legs, not caring if he was on the opposite side of the bed. the pillows were on the floor, the sheets scrambled all over, and clothes scattered all over the room. “i didn't hurt you did i?” he gently grabbed your wrists, placing soft kisses on them, “no jude.. you didn’t.”
your legs digged into the sheets, a hand on his shoulder as the other one brought his face to yours, leaving no space between as you kissed him. his tongue entered your mouth, being able to still taste the champagne and sweet taint on you. he leaned his forehead on yours, grabbing your hips, “i love you.”
your chest warmed again hearing him confess his underlying love for you, “and i love you.”
you reached between the space, bringing his cock to your entrance feeling him stretch you out again as you sat on him completely. you lifted your hips up and then brought them back down, “shit baby… you feel so tight like this,” jude groaned grabbing and pulling you closer as you balanced yourself by holding his broad shoulders.
“Jude…” you murmured throwing your head back in pleasure struggling almost to take him as a whole, feeling the way he kissed your boob and squeezed it with his hand. you were chasing that second orgasm for the two of you, rocking your hips up and down and back and forth, like an expert of course.
your nails raked down his back and chest, as you felt get closer and closer, jude following behind. you cry out in pleasure, jude gripping your ass as you continued to bounce on him. it was a sight for him, to watch you like he was, to see your angelic face, eyes closed, brows pulled in and lips were still swollen from the makeout session before. “such a good girl for me,” jude praised.
jude felt so lucky, so lucky he helped you move against his cock, wanting to feel your walls clench even tighter as you reached your orgasm, not being able to get enough of you. “i’m gonna cum y/n…” jude warned gripping your waist and feeling the haze inside him beginning to spread around as you whimpered, tears stroking your cheeks.
“oh fuck, jude i’m cum-” you couldn't finish your sentence as your wave of orgasm spread through your whole body. jude cummed inside you, the ropes of his cum feeling hot as they spread all over your walls, down to his shaft. your ears ringed, head tucked into his neck as you caught your breath. his breathing matched yours, unable to shake off the lingering post-orgasm.
with your closed eyes, jude brought your lips to his, kissing them gently making you smile at the softness from him. jude never left you unattended, he always made sure you were left clean and comfortable, after-sex cuddles were his favorite, and right now that's all he craved for.
“thank you jude,” you say, not only thanking him for this but also for being the person you dreamed of being with. despite what you had gone through with him, that didn't matter as a new chapter of your life would start here, forgetting every past detail to move forward. jude couldn't stop kissing anywhere, your neck, cheeks, tip of nose, jaw, and shoulders, he wanted you to feel loved. loved by him. only him.
“never ever leave my side okay? i need you here with me at all times… my girl, my only girl only, y/n.”
—————————
spottedcelebrity
liked by: 1,090,222, and others.
spottedcelebrity: steamy kiss shared with our favorite couple just right outside by his dinner! seems like this two couldn't wait to get the party started 😉👀
comments:
user2: OH?
username29: CHAT IS THIS REAL?
username194: the way he grabs her, oh lord end me now.
user3984: this will be the reason of my death.
username594: so not approprite? in public what the hell?
↪️ user11: oh shut up. let them live their lives.
—————————
ynusername added to their insta stories!
—————————
judebellingham posted on their feed!
judebellingham
liked by: ynusername, gioreyna, vinijr, camavinga, jobebellingham, fedevalverde, brahim, joselu, 3,540,999 others.
judebellingham: complete along side her 🤍
comments:
user93: they saw the pictures didn't they...
ynusername: love you handsome 🤍
↪️ judebellingham: love you more princess 🤍🤍
↪️ username873: HE CALLED HER PRINCESS OMG 💔
gioreyna: my bro, miss you hella ❤️
jobebellingham: ❤️
username: we saw what ya'll did...
user67: he is so bf coded.
—————————
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham fluff#football fanfic#footballer#football x you#football x reader#football imagine#judey thoughts 5️⃣
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Father’s Day Special
Tanner:
Fuckkkk, Mr. Blake’s dick just feels too good! I can’t stop jerking one out in his body and I need to get back to the dinner table with his family! It’s Father’s Day after all.
Mr. Blake is my childhood best friends dad and we ran into each other at a bar the other day. Both of us sat and talked for hours.
He eventually confessed that he misses being young and that he would do anything to have a sexy body like mine.
That statement made me so hard because seeing Mr. Blake mowing his lawn or doing stuff around his house was a big sexual awakening for me.
So we got a hotel room, Mr. Blake pulled off his shirt and started to reveal his body to me.
“You like what you see Tanner?”
“Mhmmm…”
“Well what if I told you all of this could be yours for a week,” he says immediately pulling down his pants. My mouth drops at the sight of Mr. Blake massive 11 inch throbbing cock.
He moves closure to me, so close that we’re now face to face.
“Tanner, I have a way for the both of us to becoming each other. You’ll get my body and I’ll get yours. No limits other than we’ll have to pretend to be each other. What do you say?”
Mr. Blake directed my hand on his firm cock and it was all over for me.
So the last couple of days, I’ve been pretending to be him. Pretending to my good friend Alex and his little brother that I’m actually their father.
Although, that part had been a little tough since every time I want some ‘daddy alone time.’ On of them is right around the corner.
Like for instance, u thought I had a good hour to jerk one out.
I started massage this massive dick from the outside of his shorts. Toying around with his big hairy balls… even smelling his big hairy feet.
But as I go to pull it out, the door swings open and Alex is at the door.
“Oh hey dad! How was your day?”
“Good! Just trying to relax son,” I said nervously.
Now that it’s Father Day, my entire day has been taken over by silly things like breakfast in bed, ‘golfing’, and now some dinner.
God, I just want to finish jerking on out!
*knock knock*
“Dad you okay?”
Shitttt, can I please have just two minutes.
I put his cock up and say, “yeah I’m coming.”
I walk out of the bathroom and my eyes get big when I see who’s at the table— it’s Alex, his brother, and my body!
“Well hello Tanner!” I say trying not to be too surprised.
“Hey Mr. Blake!” he says with a big grin on his face.
“Hey dad sorry for not giving you a heads up, do you mind if Tanner stays the night?”
“Well sure son!”
God, what is he doing?
I sit between Alex and Mr. Blake in my body. I feel so nervous. But then I’m completely caught off guard by the feeling off my former feet rubbing up Mr. Blake’s hairy leg.
He’s so calm and continuing a conversation with Alex, meanwhile I feel my former big toe touching the tip of his dick.
It can’t even take it. So I grab my former foot and hold on to it, just softly rubbing the sole under the table.
After dinner, I waited up for hours watching tv. All I could think of was Mr. Blake being upstairs in my body pretending to be me with his son.
It’s around 2 am now and I finally decide to go to bed. I head back to his room and to my surprise my body lying in bed sleeping…
I look at my former big smooth feet… I’ve also been somewhat self conscious about the size of them. But now from a different prospective—
All I want to do is rub Mr. Blake’s massive cock between them.
I walk up and pull off the clothes I had on.
I get run his big fingers tracing the soles… I then grab his dick and rub the head of it on them.
“Oh you’re here, I’ve been waiting for you,” I hear my former voice say. He looks at me holding his dick pressed against my feet.
“You have very cute feet Tanner,” he says wiggling my toes.
“Why don’t you join me?”
I hop into bed with Mr. Blake and I feel him reach for his dick.
“I just wanted to reward you for agreeing to do this with me, think of this as a Father’s Day Gift.”
I watch as he starts kissing down his chest down to his crotch.
I feel him wrap my former lips around his cock.
“Thanks Mr. Blake, this maybe the best part of Father’s Day so far!”
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₊˚⊹。 here’s to hoping (cause i can’t stop calling) | gojo satoru
wc: 1.1k
summary: gojo calls, and you spend it half-wishing you weren’t broken up.
contains: gn!reader, exes to ???, alcohol, mentions of going to the club, gojo is bad at being an ex, complicated feelings, ambiguous ending, kind of hurt/comfort.
a/n: writing this as my copium, i haven’t written gojo outside of col in so long so this was challenging, but equally as exciting! some songs that inspired this are: better than this - lauv & oh, gemini - role model.
part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: calling your ex drunk at two a.m. with feelings still stuck in your throat
“Well, well, well… miss me already?”
The clock on your kitchen wall reads some time between 2:05 and 2:10. Even when you squint, the little lines remain a drunken blur.
You blame it on the alcohol.
“Don’t be shy now.” the voice on your phone continues, shaking you out of focus.
Had you been any more sober, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.
Had you been any more sober, the throbbing in your head wouldn’t have persisted from the sound of—
“Gojo–” you sigh.
“Satoru.” he interrupts, a full pause before he continues, softer, “It’s Satoru, remember?”
Had you been any more sober, you wouldn’t have even answered his call.
You haul your bag up sluggishly, the chains of the strap clacking against your countertop. Patience is a ticking time bomb when you’re this inebriated, the heavy bass from earlier tonight still thumping its way within your brain.
You can’t think straight.
“Satoru,” a name now foreign but still so close to home; it burns on your tongue, trickles bittersweet down your throat, “you called. What do you need?”
It’s stupid of you to ask, you know, because Gojo’s been calling you like this since the day you broke up months ago. You’d picked up the first few times, but quickly realized that it wasn’t good for the both of you—you’d never move on, and Gojo would never let you go.
Except—
“You picked up.”
—liquor makes for poor company when it only serves to soften the anger you’ve built up as protection. It really is all the alcohol’s fault.
Your eyes burn as you squeeze them shut, sighing, a twisted exhale, “You have to stop, Satoru.”
“Stop what?” he feigns, the lilt at the end a sure sign of the most insufferable smirk.
The thought of it makes you sick, makes you ache with memories of pinching his nose at the sight of it. He used to giggle then; now, he chuckles on the other end.
That’s the question, isn’t it? Stop what?
Since the break-up, Gojo’s been acting like nothing’s changed. He still calls you just as much, still texts you with undertones that tread the fine line between flirty and ‘just Gojo’. Your toiletries are still at his apartment, and his clothes are still in your closet.
You’d find humor in it if not for the fact that all of it has been so goddamn confusing.
He started it; he broke up with you.
Shouldn’t he be pushing you away?
To this day, you have no full closure, no other reason other than an ‘it’s better this way’ followed by a continuous stream of mixed signals because how he treats you is still the same.
“Stop calling,” a lump forms in your throat, an admission you’ve had to remind yourself again and again, “we’re not together anymore.”
“I can’t call a friend?”
You snort, fiddling with the metal links of your bag strap, “Is that what we are?”
A pause. Slippers shifting on floorboards. They sound just like the sleepless nights he’d shuffle out of bed.
You can picture him on the other end, head tilted and leant back on the plush leather of his couch. He hums but doesn’t answer you—he never does when it can mean something.
“You still sound the same.”
And you don’t expect it at this moment, to get so choked up over how he sounds over radio waves, but he says the words a little too fondly for you not to notice. Gojo’s always teased that he can pinpoint your voice from the moment you speak the first word.
You don’t mean to give him any more authority over your feelings than he already has, but the words slip out before you can catch yourself, “You’re being unfair.”
Another hum. His tone shifts to something lighter, more teasing, “Like you aren’t. Always typing, never sending…”
The huff that punctuates his sentences paints itself vividly with a small pout.
“Stop staring at my chat box then.” is all you can muster, the ache spreading throughout your chest.
“Afraid I can’t.”
You don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“You’re impossible.” your eyes begin to feel wet, your sniffle concealing itself as you clear your throat.
The silence that follows is uncharacteristic of your relationship with Gojo, even more of the man you know, but you find it filled to the brim with all the possibilities of what went wrong—of things you know he’ll never say out loud.
You know Gojo has issues; they presented themselves well enough in the year you were together. Being with him is accepting that you’ll be reading between the lines your entire life.
He is simultaneously touchy but distant, vocal but elusive in his affections; he drapes himself over you every chance he gets, but when you touch him in places no one else has, you think a storm swirls cyan in his irises. Gojo gives compliments like candies on Halloween, but he keeps his feelings close to his chest, locked away like presents tightly wrapped under a Christmas tree.
This is why you never saw it coming.
This is why there was no hint, no sign of him ever wanting to break things off when he did.
‘Let’s stop dating’ with no warning.
“Had fun tonight?” he asks so casually, like it doesn’t tell you a million things—how he still has your location on his phone, how he’s still checking on you, Six Eyes or not.
Tonight was okay, all things considered. You don’t go to clubs often, but your friends kept you company; the music boomed just a tad bit louder than you’re used to, and the drinks were good, but—
“You would have hated it.”
If Gojo were there, you would have stayed 10 minutes tops. He’d whine about being bored but you’d be able to tell, from the slight furrow of his brows and the clenching of his jaw that it’s because one of his migraines is forming.
“Good thing I’d have you, then.”
There are half-truths in jokes like this, a dangerous thing to say when you both know he could still have you if he wanted.
“Stop flirting, it’s annoying.” you try to steel your voice, pushing down the false hope rising in your chest.
“You love it, though.”
The pain sears you, hurts when he says the word so lightly, as if he isn’t aware that you know love is the reason he had to break things off prematurely. As if he doesn’t know that you’re still in love with him, that you’re still putting faith in a tragedy.
“Do you even know what loving something feels like?”
The line remains silent, save for the softest sound of his breath hitching.
You must have hit a nerve.
He hums, an expected answer, but then he mumbles, words spoken so faintly, so quietly, you’re surprised they even came through.
“Yeah, I do.”
a/n: wanted to use this as dialogue practice because i think gojo’s dialogue is one of the trickiest to nail! i also found it so fun exploring this kind of dynamic with him!! i subtly hint on some of gojo’s personal issues but don’t explicitly state it to leave room for interpretation! the ending is ambiguous for that same reason.
thank you notes: @stellamancer for helping me out so much with this 🥺 practically beta-ing it, really 🥺 ily niku 🥺 in my head, gojo does not exist without you 🥺 & @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @scarabrat @soumies for being my lil cheerleaders always 🥺 ily all 🥺
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#satoru#gojo x you#gojo x yn#gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x yn#jjk x y/n#shotorus.writes#shotorus.events#in's and out's event
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the world is ending (but i'm happy you're here with me)
pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort warnings: one (1) swear, mc is mentioned to have longer hair at one point, slightly unedited, lowercase intended word count: 1.07k note: i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too ♡
there comes a time in every girl’s life where the overwhelming urge to change her physical appearance eclipses all sensible and rational thought. as it turns out, you’re no exception.
“you’re going to laugh.”
“no i’m not.”
“you already are,” you deadpan, frowning at minho’s pitiful attempts to repress the growing smile quirking at his lips. your boyfriend has the audacity to chuckle at your words, pushing himself off the couch and gliding towards your stiff figure standing at the entrance of the living room.
“you can’t blame me, you look so cute and adorable right now,” he defends. an arm snakes around your shoulders and you relax slightly at his touch, wrapping your arms around his middle. “besides, it can’t be that bad—at least, not enough for you to have to hide from me.”
minho pulls you further into the warmth of his chest, the tender embrace sending a small shiver down your spine. his lips meet the side of your hooded head in a firm kiss, the extra pressure ensuring you would feel the loving gesture. the usual trail of kisses towards your forehead and cheeks is blocked, currently concealed by your (his) hoodie’s drawstrings working overtime to reveal only a small oval of skin.
the hood’s bunched fabric frames the top of your eyes and lips. you can barely see in front of you until one of minho’s fingers slips into the opening to try and take a peek at what’s covered inside.
minho is being nice; you look ridiculous.
and it’s your fault really. you should have known you couldn't escape your misfortunes that easily.
work for the past month has been hell: the road-closure of the usual route you’d take, tacking on an additional fifteen minutes to your commute. the early mornings you have to endure to clock-in on time. the “important” group project your boss delegated around the office. the unpaid overtime for said project. the same petty, passive-aggressive coworkers breathing down your neck and critiquing your every move because you made a mistake once—all casting insurmountable pressure on your already exhausted state.
you finally snapped when someone callously stole the lunch minho had prepared for you from the breakroom’s fridge.
you suppose now it was your brain’s attempt to regain some sort of control over the strenuous situation, but the impulse to cut your hair, try a new style, start fresh with your appearance bombarded every thought on the journey home. call it an impulsive thought, an intrusive thought, whatever—you needed to do something.
too bad the hair stylist couldn’t follow directions for shit.
“minho, i’m serious,” you whine, burying your face further into his chest. suffocating in the arms of the man you love doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right now. “she ruined my hair. how am i supposed to go out in public like this?”
“i can’t tell you if you haven’t even shown me yet. i’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he muses, chuckling at the vibrations tickling his torso from the muffled groan you release.
minho starts to sway the two of you back and forth at your silence. the rhythmic movement cradles you in a comforting hold, temporarily soothing your spiraling thoughts. he’s right; you’re going to have to show him at some point. might as well just get it over with now.
a defeated sigh escapes you. well, here goes nothing.
you step out of minho’s arms and pry the hood off to reveal your botched hair in all its glory.
uneven bangs, a completely different color than from when you left for work this morning, fall into your face and cover the top of your eyes. you can’t see yourself but judging from minho’s small hiss and surprised, contorted face, it’s not pretty.
and it’s not like you asked for anything outlandish: a standard cut and a new style of bangs was your definition of revamping your appearance. so when the stylist cut off a majority of your hair, it took everything within you to not immediately burst into tears as the salon’s floor and your lap splayed the once lengthy remains.
you don’t even know where she got the idea of bleaching your hair. now your wallet and soul are emptier than ever and there is nothing you can do except hope minho doesn’t ask you to turn around because the layers are downright atrocious.
“so? what do you think?” a wobbly smile makes its way onto your face. “not what you were expecting, right?”
you can’t help the tears welling into your eyes at his silence. he’s just…staring. certainly this can’t be the dealbreaker, right?
…right?
you’re saved from your inner turmoil when minho moves forward to carefully bring you back into his arms. the tears finally spill down your cheeks and onto his shirt, the comforting scent of minho flooding your senses once again. if you could hide here forever, you would.
“it’ll grow back.”
“i know.”
“you still look sexy.” he pinches your side, coaxing a watery laugh from you. his smile is infectious, and you can’t help but tearfully look up at him with one of your own.
you playfully guide one of his hands towards the back of your damaged hair, leaving it there. “so you’re not breaking up with me over this?” you tease, resting your head back against his chest. you don’t notice the subtle shift in your boyfriend’s gaze until he softly calls your name.
“i would love you even if you were bald,” he confesses quietly, squeezing you tighter to him.
you can’t help but snort into his chest. “yeah?”
“yeah. i will love you now until it’s long again. i will love you with any hair cut, color, style, anything. even if you hate it or one day regret it, my love for you won’t change,” minho assures, his sincerity echoing in his words.
“so if i dyed my hair pink tomorrow, you’d be okay with it?”
“do what you want, whenever you want.”
because it doesn’t matter to him what you do with your hair. you’re still you, his beautiful and resilient (and sexy) girlfriend. even as his hands run through the chopped, disproportionate strands on the back of your head, he finds you more and more enchanting with each passing day.
“i will be here for you. always.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺
(“i still have to go to work.”
“just wear a hat.”)
────────────────────────────────────────────
liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡
#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#lee know#lee minho#skz x reader#lee know fluff#lee know scenarios#lee know x reader fluff#skz fic#lee know angst#stray kids x reader#stray kids fic#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids#skz scenarios#stray kids angst#stray kids minho#kpop imagines#skz au#stray kids scenarios#skz#lee minho x you#lee minho x y/n#skz hurt/comfort#lee minho angst#lee know imagines#stray kids x you#stayinlimbo
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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one
summary: leaving your old life behind, you move to copenhagen to follow your dream of opening a restaurant. almost a year after opening, luca's quest for inspiration brings him right to your doorstep.
warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.
word count: 2500
a/n: remember when i said we'd get pastry chef luca fanfic whether we liked it or not? well, it seems i can't be normal about anything bc i have an outline of (potentially) 10 chapters right now based on this headcanon. while i try to keep reader characters pretty neutral so that you can picture yourself, i have this reader creating food from her own life experiences/cultures so do what you will with that. also, i tagged some peeps from my headcanon post, but please let me know if you'd like to be removed.
masterlist | part two
He’s in search of inspiration when he finds the restaurant – your restaurant.
It’s an American stagiaire and a single conversation that makes him realize that he’s missing something – that he’s been in need of something fresh, a new perspective– setting him on his quest.
The best things are inspired.
Luca stares at a blank piece of paper for what feels like hours, writing a few things down, sketching up an idea, before viciously crossing them out, hopelessly stuck on new ideas for the new menu. After a few half-baked ideas that go nowhere, It occurs to him that he may be in need of a little inspiration himself. He can’t think of the last time he’s taken his own advice, mulling over the carefully-chosen words of wisdom imparted to Marcus a couple of weeks ago, and he’s determined to change that.
A review in the paper, an old colleague’s recent trip there, and a glowing recommendation from a close friend are what bring him to the restaurant.
He’s not sure what to expect – having forgone any interest in cuisine described with the words trendy or fusion a long time ago – but Luca reminds himself that it’s the writer’s word choice, not the chef’s, when writing the article.
When Luca steps into the small home-turned-restaurant, he’s immediately inundated with a warmth, a homeyness, that takes him by surprise. From the open kitchen, to the golden lighting, it feels vastly different from the classic Danish-style, fine dining establishments that have swept the country.
But Luca reminds himself that the announcement of noma’s 2024 closure, has shifted the conversation around dining culture in Denmark, and already, he can feel that this is the breath of fresh air that he’s been looking for.
Luca’s seated quickly with care and hospitality by a highly-attentive host, which he only assumes is a symptom of the fact that he read somewhere that you’re an American. While Danish, the host is boisterous, as if he’s known Luca since childhood. Luca smiles politely in response, graciously thanking the man and his chocolate brown curls.
The menu is small, indicating that each dish receives enough care to be excellent and he likes that, despite being described as trendy and fusion-focused, your menu is creative. It’s different. It’s inspired.
He chooses the special of the day: the mapo tofu bolognese – a traditionally Italian concept done from an Asian perspective – and the suggested wine pairing.
It doesn’t take long for him to receive his glass of wine, or his food, and he’s pleasantly surprised by how efficient service seems. Stealing glances through the open kitchen, he watches as you and your sous lead dinner service with a kind of compassionate leadership and playfulness that warms him from the inside out.
“We recommend mixing the whipped tofu into the dish for a creamier sauce. Skal,” his waitress greets, with a warm smile on her face as she sets down the bowl of noodles.
“Cheers,” Luca replies, his eyes savoring every single detail of the dish.
It’s somehow elevated, thoughtful, and elegant, yet comforting all at once.
Luca picks up his fork, using it to collect a little bit of everything – a perfect noodle twirl with just enough sauce, and ground pork before running his fork the whipped topping – raising the fork to his lips for his first bite.
As the flavors hit his tongue, he closes his eyes, and it’s as if time has stopped, just for a moment.
The wheat noodles are perfectly al dente while the whipped tofu is almost ricotta-like, transforming into a silky smooth addition to the dish, cutting the tingle and heat of the Sichuan chili peppercorn-based sauce.
The corners of his lips turn up as he takes a breath, opening his eyes as he savors the delicate layers of flavors. With a crooked smile on his face, he decides that he’ll most certainly be back next week.
-------------------------------
You make peace with the fact that tonight is one of those nights – a slow night – as you finish washing your hands. It being a slow night, you’d encouraged your staff to up the hospitality at the pre-shift meeting. Treating guests with the utmost personal touches in an effort to build genuine connections would be the focus of tonight’s slow service. In fact, you and Mathilde, your sous chef, had been running dishes out this evening – something you rarely had the luxury to do.
“You should go say hello,” your sous encourages, nodding towards the dining room through the expansive window of the open kitchen.
“Thought it was your turn,” you reply in a casual tone, paying no attention to who she’s referencing.
“No, I think you should take this one,” Mathilde nudges you, causing you to look up. You shoot her a funny look, your eyes flickering over the mischievous expression she has on her face, to where she’s gestured towards.
“To-?” you begin to ask, before seeing exactly who she’s talking about.
“Ehm. Tall, blonde, and tatted!” she emphasizes in a whisper yell.
You don’t really need the description as you glance over at the dining room, easily spotting the man seated at a two-seater near the front window.
“You’re right. He’s become a bit of a regular,” you agree with a curt nod that means all business, no pleasure, as you move a few things as you walk and talk around the kitchen, tidying up.
“That’s not what I meant,” she scoffs with a playful eye roll.
“You know, Jesper thought he was Swedish because… look at him… but he’s apparently a Brit,” she gossips with you, her eyes stealing a glance his way. “We’re slow tonight. He’s here every week. Sure he’d appreciate a direct thank you from the chef!”
“I-,” you hesitate, wondering why she’s so damn insistent on this. “... yeah, alright. I’ll go.”
“That’s my girl!” Mathilde cheers, in a sing-song voice, she hands you the beautifully plated bowl of pasta to take out to the dining room.
As you walk over towards his table, you make a note that it seems as if the mystery man has made this a bit of a routine. He shows every Saturday at exactly 7 pm, week after week, for the past month or so, as if it’s a standing date he has with himself. After his first visit, you half-expected him to bring a date when he returned, or bring a group of friends, or for something different to happen.
But it hadn’t and you’ve watched him come in, week after week, with a different book each time. He always orders the special of the day and whatever suggested wine pairing Jesper’s recommended that week.
Most Saturday nights you're busy leading a kitchen or cooking on the line – having little to no time to fixate or wonder curiously over your weekly diner – but tonight’s pace affords you the luxury to spend more time at the front of house. Truthfully, you know it’s the thing that sets you apart. Sure, the hospitality here in Copenhagen is excellent, but you bring an American hospitality-style to this restaurant – and above and beyond mentality – that feels welcoming, personal, even, as if your restaurant itself is just an extension of your home.
You’ve heard your staff – front of house and back of house – whispering about him, all seemingly enamored and enchanted by the charming Brit. All any of you knew about him was that his name was Luca and that he’s always more than kind to your front of house staff.
He doesn’t say much when he comes in, you’ve noticed, but every Saturday at 7 pm, he’s pushing his way through the front door with punctuality and a gentle ease.
The whisperings from your staff had all revolved around who your mysterious regular must be: whether he was Danish or Swedish, that someone that good looking must already have a partner, that he doesn’t wear a ring.
You hadn’t paid much attention to the gossip (or at least that’s what you’ve told yourself) more focused on running dinner service then trying to piece together the story of your handsome, mysterious regular.
“Hello,” you greet him warmly. “I just wanted to come introduce myself and say thank you for becoming one of our regulars. Your support means a lot to all of us.”
“Hi, I’m Luca.”
You share your name with a smile as he shakes your hand.
Luca turns his attention down to the bowl you’ve put in front of him, his eyes taking in the beautiful presentation hungrily.
“Wow, this looks… incredible,” he marvels, returning his gaze back to you.
“Thank you. I’m sure my front of house already walked you through this but if you’d like for me to-,” you begin.
“Yes, that’d be great, thanks,” he interjects, a crooked smile on his face that makes your heart skip a beat.
You have to pull your attention away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice that you’re quite possibly gawking at him.
He’s kind, charming, and he’s easy on the eyes (easy on the eyes, really being an understatement here).
“Today’s special was inspired by a childhood favorite of mine,” you begin, walking him through each component of the dish.
Crispy Rice. Caramelized marinated trumpet mushrooms and charred broccolini. Your mom’s sauce approached with classic French techniques, courtesy of your sous, Mathilde, a classically French-trained chef.
It’s a marriage of your story. Of the people around you. It’s your heart and theirs, put into a dish.
“You’re the chef?” he asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.
“Yes,” you answer, trying your best to get a read on him.
He balks, and you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. Was he surprised that you’re a woman? That he’s been eating your food the whole time and expected a male chef? Before you can overthink it, Luca clarifies with:
“I’m sorry. It’s just-, I can't think of the last time I saw a head chef work front of house, let alone with this much care.”
Oh.
You let down your guard, wondering why you’d assumed the worst when the man’s been nothing but kind to you and your staff so far.
"We're a little short staffed tonight. And I love getting to talk to diners… especially on nights like this,” you explain, trying your best to sound like you hadn’t just assumed that he was a sexist asshole.
He shakes his head in disbelief, looking down at the picturesque bowl, then back to you.
Luca is impressed, and he has no intention of hiding it.
He picks up his wine glass by the stem, raising it to you.
"Cheers,” he says. “And thank you. This is a really beautiful dish.”
“Of course. Enjoy,” you reply, giving him a polite smile, before heading back into the kitchen.
-------------------------------
“Good service tonight, everybody!” Jesper, your front of house manager, announces while clapping a few times to signal to staff that it’s time for a post shift meeting.
As you all gather in the pristine front of house space. Some of your cooks have taken their aprons off, others haven’t had a moment to unwind from the shift yet – business picking up in the last hour or so of service.
Jesper goes through his nightly wrap-up notes, celebrating the wins of tonight, and making sure to celebrate how everyone rallied to pick up pace when business spiked. He’s gregarious, larger-than-life, the kind of person who can talk to anyone about anything, making him an excellent front of house manager, and even better sommelier. You really lucked out with the twins, you think to yourself – with Jesper and Mathilde – when they were more than eager to work with you on opening this restaurant.
“Oh, and before we go, a client left a gift… table number four,” Jesper says, in reference to Luca’s table. He pulls a tan-colored pastry box from another table, setting it down on a table where everyone can take a look.
“As a thank you. He requested for me to share. So have it and let’s make a note next time he’s in to really treat him like a VIP.”
One of your most-talented servers opens the box, eliciting a chorus of gasps, giggles, and excited whispers as soon as the assortment of croissants and pastries are revealed.
You and Mathilde exchange a look as everyone else busy themselves with unpacking the pastry box. Mathilde raises an eyebrow and you’re not sure what to say. Witnessing your silent exchange, Jesper makes his way over to the both of you, before extending his arm to reveal the card he’s holding.
“And this, my dear…” he begins, exchanging a look with his sister. “...is for you.”
“What do you-, just me?” you ask as you take it, hesitantly.
“I think so, yeah,” he nods, confidently.
To the Chef, the front of the card reads.
“Jesper, let’s check out some of these pastries, yeah?” Mathilde suggests, not so subtly hinting towards her brother.
He nods, giving you a little space so that you can read the card Luca’s left for you.
As your staff divvy up the box of laminated pastries, sighing with joy as they taste the decadent, hand-crafted sweets, you take a few steps away to open the note. His handwriting is pristine – perfectly neat in every way, like he’s written over carefully measured invisible lines.
Chef,
Thank you for all of the great meals. I'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it.
Tomorrow. 5 pm. Dronningens Tværgade 2, 1302
While Luca’s gift has been more-than-generous, you find yourself overwhelmed by questions. Was he a chef too? And why had he not said anything? And what was this gesture all about anyways?
You read the card a few more times, turning the words over in your head as you try to make sense of it.
Mathilde can see your overwhelm, your eyebrows knitted into one confused expression as she saunters back over to you.
“What does it say?” she asks, curiously. “A love confession perhaps?”
“Mathilde, you really have to stop reading all of those French romance novels!” you tease her. “It’s giving you too many ideas.”
“It’s the only way I keep up with my French!” she defends herself with a lackadaisical shrug, earning a laugh from you.
“Uh no… it’s actually a thank you card… only I think he… wants to feed me,” you share with her, holding the card out so that she can take a look.
“He’s a chef too?” she asks, taking the card from your hands.
“I think so, yeah,” you reply, letting out an exasperated laugh.
“Oh shit!” Mathilde exclaims, as soon as she sees the address that Luca’s written down.
“What?” you ask her, wondering if there’s something you missed.
“The address… that’s AOC. I think he’s a chef at AOC, babe,” she gasps, shaking her head as she hands the card back to you, sending a ‘you lucky, bitch’ look your way.
Oh shit, is right.
#chef luca#will poulter#luca the bear#the bear season 2#the bear headcanon#luca x reader#the bear hulu#the bear fx#the bear fanfiction#chef luca x reader#pastry chef luca#burn your life down
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Perhaps Hal Jordan or Clark kent with cuddling. Like just them coming home after a stressed day and you just take care of them the best you can. U offer sex but they don’t want it. Just wanting to be in ur presence for a bit yk yk
Clark Kent x Male reader
Headcanons
Hey nerds, guess who’s not dead. I feel like I am, but apparently, I’m not. Classes are kicking my ass because of very cramped timelines and long days. Who’d have thought becoming a caretaker (idk the English word) would be so difficult. A shorty, but still something I enjoyed writing.
It wasn’t a common occurrence. For Clark to come home so worn out and tired. As a man powered by the sun, a man of steel as he so regularly gets called, its very difficult to him feeling so worn down.
For the most part, the days he comes home in this mood, is not because he’s exhausted physically, but rather mentally. Be it from difficult missions, or just long days at work where he’s talked down too or pushed aside.
There is something soft and cute about him like this, though you would never tell him that. he’s always a little whinier and poutier, but also cuddlier, if that’s even possible for a guy who seems to live off affectionate contact with you.
The first thing Clark does when he comes home from days like this, is kick off whatever he’s wearing and change into something else. Most days its some ancient washed-out sweatshirts from his university days. The kind that’s been washed so many times the logo is mostly gone, and the fabric is worn thin and soft.
Its either that, or if you’re bigger than him, then it’s one of your shirts. That or just a pair of boxers and socks, so he can crawl into your space and flop down there like a big lazy cat.
If possible, Clark tries to crawl up into your shirt, laying his head on your stomach or your chest, ear pressed against your skin to listen to your heart, even if he can easily do that anywhere on the planet. Being so close just puts him at ease.
You cant hear it, but you know he’s purring, even if it’s a frequency you can’t pick up. At this point you can only really rub his back and let him soak up the affection and touch he needs like a wilted flower in the sun.
When he starts pressing featherlight kisses against your torso, you start to think maybe Clark wants something more, since he starts kneading at your sides, like you’re made from playdough, and he wants to mold you into something else.
His hands are so big and strong that you almost feel like playdough, with how insistent his rubbing and kneading can get. His kisses never go beyond soft pecks and barely there brushes of his lips, Clarks head just moving from side under your shirt as he lays on top of your legs.
You don’t need words in a situation like this, your hands becoming more exploratory, rubbing between his shoulders and tapping your fingers at his spine, like he’s a harp you’re plucking the strings off.
The change in your scent must catch his attention too, as Clark lifts his head just enough for you to see him through the collar of it, his eyes soft and glistening. They remind you of marbles, in a way. So shiny and with that clash of shades of blue.
The small downwards pout of his lips and minimal shake of his head is all you need to know, that going farther isn’t what he wants. So, you just give a nod in reply and place a hand on the back of his head, bringing him back down again.
You don’t really understand why he feels so much comfort under your shirt like this. Maybe it’s the enclosed feeling of it all, the shirt, and sometimes blanket you put on top, closing him off from the rest of the world.
Maybe its just the closure, and being surrounded by your scent, which always seems to put him at ease, or rile him up, depending on your own mood.
You don’t hate it though, you never could, not when its Clark. So, instead you just lay back, rubbing your hands slowly up and down his back and Clark nuzzles deeper against you, letting him rest there for as long as he needs.
#male reader#superman#clark kent#dc#justice league#clark kent imagine#clark kent headcanon#clark kent x male reader#clark kent x reader#dc imagine#dc headcanon#dc x male reader#dc x reader#superman imagine#superman headcanon#superman x male reader#superman x reader#justice league imagine#justice league headcanon#justice league x male reader#justice league x reader
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I’m gonna need more details on that punishment Lando was promised.
Loved the new chapter. All the bodyguards is exactly what I imagined Lando would do.
Felt so bad for him, to be so scared of making mistake in relationship, isn’t really healthy.
Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {6.5}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Just smut and a little fluffy aftercare. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, sub/dom WC: 1.2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven
Charles tested the sashes from the hotel dressing gowns that kept Lando spread across the bed to see if they had loosened. His wrists and ankles each led to one of the four corner posts and you sat at the headboard, gently stroking his damp hair.
Come splattered his tensed abs from his first two orgasms, a third almost about to join the mess.
Unintelligible sounds grunted from him as Charles returned between his legs. He was taking his control back after what Lando had done and the red handprints that Lando’s sat on were the result of his punishment. As was the edging.
“Pleaseeee…” he whined as Charles stopped sucking his cock just before he was about to finish. Shifting lower, Charles disappeared deeper between his legs and Lando’s back arched with the workings of his tongue. “Fuuuck, feels so good.”
“Shhh, no talking,” you reminded him.
The sight of Charles popping up, licking his lips, was enough to turn you on again despite already being thoroughly fucked just out of Lando’s reach while he was tied up. The punishment was hardly punishment at all for Lando, but it gave Charles some closure to move on from the mistake.
“Lando can’t help it, can you, mon cher?” Charles asked as he climbed his body, settling himself on his knees over Lando’s chest. “The only way to keep him quiet is with something in his mouth.”
Lando’s lips parted and his tongue lapped at the precum that coated the tip of Charles’ cock before he craned his neck to take more. Charles grabbed the headboard and snapped his hips forward, burying his cock down Lando’s throat.
“There, mon cher, now you can’t talk,” Charles strained through gritted teeth as his own release mounted. “Putain, tellement bien.”
You knew he was close when he switched to his mother tongue and you decided to give Lando some reprieve as you wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking him to the pace Charles set with his hips. A muffled cry broke the seal around Lando’s lips and his hips bucked into your hand until he spilled himself over your fist with a sate groan that rumbled deep from his chest.
“Oui, oui,” Charles panted as he pulled back and painted Lando’s pink lips white, each spurt jerking his body like a puppet controlled by his cock. His ragged breaths slowly calmed as clarity returned to his eyes and he smiled down at the mess on Lando’s face - from his watering eyes to his flushed cheeks. “Mon Dieu, are you alright?”
Lando licked his lips and smiled whimsically at the taste that coated his tongue, but he couldn’t vocalise anything as he reached his subspace. You quickly untied the sashes and Lando’s limbs fell limp around him, that blissful smile still lazy on his lips. “How are your ribs?”
He seemed to have forgotten about the bruises from the crash until he was reminded. “Still sore.”
“Our Charles can do a lot of things but I don’t think he can heal with his dick, if that’s what you were expecting,” you teased as Charles used Lando’s arm as a pillow where he was still recovering. They both chuckled and watched as you climbed off the bed but then Lando pouted, his fingers wiggling on his free arm, begging you to join the cuddles.
“I’m going to run a bath before you fall asleep,” you said with a shake of your head, knowing he was going to crash soon from the highs he had been subjected to.
The steam spilled out of the bathroom with the scent of the jasmine bath salts you found and you dimmed the lights as Charles carried Lando in. “Poor baby is out of it,” you commented as you brushed Lando’s damp curls back. He wasn’t asleep but he wasn’t quite awake either.
Charles stepped into the bath and sunk into the hot water with Lando on his lap, a deep sigh filling the room. You sat beside them on the bathroom floor wrapped up in one of the fluffy robes and wet a cloth to wash the mess off his face before it dried completely.
“Am I scary?”
You looked up in surprise at Charles' question but he was busy looking at Lando’s dark lashes fanned across his pink cheeks. “Where did that come from?”
Tortured eyes lifted to meet yours. “He made himself sick, because of me.”
“No, he made himself sick because his imagination runs wild and he fears any little imperfection,” you corrected as you took his hand in yours, the warm water running up your sleeve to your elbow. The same thing happened any time he messed up in practice, qualifying or the race. If he made a mistake then he would self-depreciate and withdraw into a dark corner of his mind.
Lando’s head slowly tipped back to look up at Charles, remorse openly displayed on his face. “I’m not afraid of you, just the thought of you guys leaving me.”
“Mon cher,” Charles sighed and kissed his forehead. “You are ours and we are not letting you go, no matter what that brain of yours thinks.”
You had already showered while the bath was running but you slipped out of the robe and stepped into the water that was already cooling quickly. Thankfully the tub was extra large, just like everything else is Vegas, and there was plenty of room to curl up against Lando on Charles’ lap. “I’m stubborn,” they both snorted at your statement and you rolled your eyes, “so you know I’m never going to change my mind about you two. And Charles is almost as bad as me. Unfortunately for you, my love, you are stuck with us for a very, very long time.”
Lando pulled you closer and tucked his head in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you murmured as you combed your fingers through his hair and caught Charles’ eyes softening. “I think it’s about time someone else had an emotional breakdown besides me for a change.”
You cozied up to your boyfriends but just when you got comfortable Lando tutted. “You’re not meant to be in a hot bath.”
“It’s not hot anymore.”
“Baby…”
You can sighed but it was followed by a smile as your Lando was back and his mind was cleared. Trust him to think of your pregnancy the second he wasn’t worried about something else, now he was worried you were boiling little Jellybean alive. So you climbed out with a pout of your own. “Fine, I’ll go, all by myself…to this big, big bed…alone…”
You took a dramatic step each time, amusing them more with each one until Lando slipped under the water to quickly wash his hair out. Charles soon followed suit and the two of them emerged from the bathroom in their robes to settle into bed with you. Without having to ask, you moved aside so Lando could take the middle spot, knowing he still needed the reassuring closeness of your bodies surrounding him as he fell into a deep sleep.
Click here for the next part.
#charles leclerc fanfic#lando norris fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#lando norris imagine#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#f1 smut#charles leclerc smut#lando norris smut
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The vast majority of people who work on a show are paid upfront for their labour
They don't get paid dependent on how successful a show is
They also don't do work that doesn't get paid- if they are working on a show that gets cancelled, they get paid for the work they did
All this 'stream GO for the hard workers behind the scenes' is bullshit
They work for companies are will be put on different projects
Just be honest that you want more GO (despite the message that it sends to studios- that audiences are ok with abusers! Just turn a blind eye to them! Yes that gives them more power but who cares because people will watch and make them money!)
Don't pretend your doing this for moral reasons
(And acting like you're doing this for Terry- for all we know he might want his work with an abuser completely destroyed- it's stupid to assume he'd want the series to be continued)
Like say this shit with your chest, you know?
Oh boy, ok. Gonna take a minute to answer this.
Firstly, I and a lot of the fandom, are heartbroken over what NG has done. Because we were duped into thinking he was a decent person. From the things that he wrote to the things that he said we thought that he was good person. And it is horrible that there are people out there suffering because yet another rich powerful white man decided he had the right to take advantage of them.
You seem rather angry and if that anger stems because you have experienced something similar yourself then I hope you have love and support around you so that you can heel.
If you want to talk about money, let me remind you that NG has already been paid for season 3. He will continue to get royalties, and thanks to the writers strike last year, he will now get more money for those royalties than before. If S3 doesn’t go ahead then hundreds of people will lose their jobs. Will they get other jobs? Sure, maybe. But any loss of job in this current economic climate is terrible and stressful (and I’m not talking about DT or MS here. They’ll get more work).
I don’t know if you understand how hyper fixation in neurodiversity works, but this is extremely painful for some people and takes a lot of time and energy and therapy to get over when a hyper fixation is threatened or taken away. Some people, like myself, need closure for things otherwise we can find it extremely difficult to move on emotionally. This obviously does not compare to someone trying to survive after SA, but emotional diversity can be extremely debilitating as well. They are apples and oranges to compare, but you can’t invalidate one person’s pain because you think another person’s pain is worth more.
As for the show itself, there is so little queer representation in media. There is a lot more nowadays compared to a decade ago, or even 5 years ago, but the little representation we have is so extremely important. Do you know how many people have found a truth to themselves thanks to GO? How many people discovered something about themselves that finally gives them answer to how they feel? How at the age of 40 I finally realised that I’m asexual and NOT BROKEN. That’s fucking important.
And this. ALL of this is why everyone, including me, are so fucking angry with NG. Because he has left us emotionally devastated. He has not just physically hurt these women. He has emotionally hurt hundreds of thousands of people. He is a stain.
I have spoken before when this all first happened about how I was angry that my one teeny tiny corner of the internet that made me happy was on fire. I left for a bit. I came back. I want to continue to interact with like minded people who love this fandom. I won’t stop that.
And frankly, and here’s the last I’ll say on this, the world is on fire. It is filled with a lot of fucking awful shit right now. I have suffered a very deep depression of late where some nights after I put the kids to bed I just stare and cry. You don’t know that about me because I don’t say those kinds of things on the internet, because our internet personas are facades. They’re not real. They’re not true life. I’m a real person and I’m aching inside about so many things. And these kinds of messages are just breaking me further. Seriously, when you send stuff like this do you even consider that?! So when I decide to hold onto one of the last bastions of entertainment that brings me joy, I’m not going to be guilted into dropping it because someone involved happens to be a monster. Because let me tell you if we did that every time someone turned out to be horrible, then we would never watch or enjoy anything ever again. EVERYTHING you watch or listen to or enjoy or like or cared about is connected to someone who is horrible or produced by a gigantic evil corporation (Nestle, Disney, Microsoft, Facebook, Google just to name a few). Every. Single. Thing. It’s the clothing you wear, the electronics you buy, the food you eat, the furniture in your house, and ALL the entertainment you consume. So if you gave up everything for some moral stance, then you would literally have nothing left.
Dropping Good Omens does nothing. It sends no message to anyone because the next really fucking awful person is about to produce the next big thing you might happen to love and care about. So what’s the point?
Let me have Good Omens. You don’t like that, then you can block me. That’s what the button is there for. You don’t need to send anonymous hateful messages. And if you want me to “say this shit with my chest” maybe you can send me an ask with the Anonymous off. So I can see your chest too.
I’m turning off anonymous asks now. Considering the only asks I’ve ever received is abusive shit telling me to kill myself or saying David Tennant is a paedophile or just telling me I’m a horrible person for supporting NG (when I’ve already stated before that I don’t anymore).
Sorry for those who’ve managed to get to the end here. Thanks for reading if you have, sorry it was so long. I hope you aren’t receiving the same type of messages. If Anonymous has read this far, I don’t know, maybe think twice before being horrible to random people on the internet?
#good omens#Neil Gaiman#Neil Gaiman ruined everything#neil gaiman allegations#seriously he fucking ruined the one thing that was giving me joy right now and I hate him for that#good omens fandom
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Ben’s Big BL Blurb 2: Fall is Finally Here
I am simply too busy with worth, family, other hobbies, and life to write about every show in real time anymore. I’m sorry to all the Stray Thoughts readers who’ve reached out about whether I would pick that back up, and I simply just do not have the time to do them anymore. Instead, I’ll try to do one of these as often as I can to catch up on things.
First, let’s go over some shows I finished recently that I don’t think I wrote much about.
First Note of Love
I was so happy to see Michael back on screen, and I was glad to see that he’s still able to get great chemistry with his co-star. Unfortunately, I don’t think this show was very coherent, so I didn’t get a lot out of it emotionally. It was a pretty inoffensive watch overall, and thus an easy show to put on without having to work through too much. I liked the work between everyone, and Mei Lei was such a fun character. Probably won’t return to this one, though.
Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo
This is probably the show of the year for me. There’s so much I loved about this show. I loved that the characters had sex, but were neither rewarded nor punished for it; their sex didn’t solve any problems. I also really love how this show explored how childhood trauma expresses in two different kinds of boys, and I love that we got to see a bully reckon with his actions and get closure. I love that this show ended with them being kinda poor, but happy together. I love how messed up they both were about everything. I loved that Juyeong wasn’t stupid, and could read what was going on.
I clearly need to write a separate post to unpack everything I felt in this show.
Let’s move on to what I’m watching currently, in no particular order…starting with the lesbians, and then the worst BLs.
Apple My Love
Genuinely having fun with this GL. I like how quickly most of the drama plays out. It’s giving me quite a bit of secondhand embarrassment, but I like the characterizations in this show. This new production house brought us Knock Knock, Boys! and Monster Next Door this year. We need to keep an eyes on them.
Haunted Hearts
I’m so fascinated by Oxin Films teaming up with Regal Entertainment. The leads are very attractive, but the cinematography is really boring. I’m trying to stay invested, but it’s kind of a sleepy watch. Also amused that they started airing a ghost romance right after Halloween ended. I’ve kind of moved on emotionally from the season.
My Damn Business
This show could be good, but it’s not. I struggled with episode 5 because our lead looked more relaxed and happier with his senior than the guy he’s getting into a romance with. There’s something missing here in this one, but I can’t exactly put my finger on it. I think it’s primarily a side effect of the short run time, but I think the boss’s interest isn’t landing properly for the employee to respond to.
Eccentric Romance
This show could be good, but it’s not. Still, I am obsessed with a murder mystery being the primary source of confusion between our leads. I was willing to forgive this show a lot of its rough edges, but it failed to handle the turn from friendship to sexual/romance really well. I feel like our guys just started dating and having sex, and I’m a bit frustrated that they didn’t talk about it really at all, particularly since this show features two different languages spoken on screen. Genuinely looking forward to seeing how this one finishes.
See Your Love
I’m not sure this show is exactly working that well, but everyone is very pretty and I’m having a decent time watching it. I like the way Shao Peng stands up for himself, and I like that nothing that’s happened has been totally unbelievable or unreasonable (at least with the mains). I’ll be curious how the hard of hearing and deaf viewers respond to this one once it’s complete.
Love is Like a Poison
This show is actually so funny. I love that Shiba is in his own lawyer genre separate from everyone else, and I really like how the two of these guys have become a team. I’m curious how they manage to resolve the scamming next week, but this has been the most unexpected dynamic of the year.
Love in the Air: Koi no Yukon
MAME won this year, y’all. We all have complicated feelings about her, but she’s secured a loving adaptation from a Japanese team that’s put solid effort into bringing her characters to life. Every character feels correct compared to their Thai counterpart we saw on screen, and that’s a strong sign that the writing behind MAME’s work is strong, even if we all have issues with the way she tackles certain themes. I’m really impressed with this adaptation, and really like this version of Rain.I also feel like this show is doing a better job blending the forthcoming couple focus shift.
Our Youth
We just got this show, but damn does it feel sharp! I’m always going to be a sucker for a cinephile character, and I’m so compelled by the way Minase is drawn to Hirukawa. The scene in episode 2 where Minase has to leave Hirukawa’s house might be one of the most impressive sequences we’ve had in a while, requiring a great deal of choreography and effort from the actors and the camera crew to pull off, and I’m excited to see how these characters split and then come back together.
Smells Like Green Spirit
Let me just say that I need another Abe Alan appearance when he isn’t playing a character doing horrible things to his students. I’ve enjoyed meditating on the 90s with this show and what that era felt like. I’ve liked how the show has tried to focus on how different parents (especially the moms) have responded to their kids coming to terms with themselves. I’ve also really enjoyed the friendship that’s grown between Mishima and Kirino. I’m struggling with Yumeno a lot, because I’m really not a friend of bully romances. Still, I feel like this is one of those shows I’ll remember for a long time because of its focus on the 90s.
Blue Canvas of Youthful Days
I think @lurkingshan covered reactions to episode 5 and episode 6 better than I could, and I loved @twig-tea giving context for the film history moment in episode 6. I remember screaming into the chat for friends to show up for this when I got to that moment. This show has two great pairs of dynamics going on that mirror well. It’s got such a strong handle on its characters’ motivations and how they would respond to the actions from each other. It’s probably the tightest thing I’m watching now, backed by extremely dialed-in performances. I will be thinking about Qi Lu organizing his potential first kiss with Qin Xiao, and how unapologetic he’s been about the entire affair. He’s being selfish here, but I kinda like it. I’m so thankful that we are somehow still getting this show, because goddamn do the Chinese actors deliver on chemistry sometimes.
Interview With the Vampire Season 2
I finished this with a friend last week, and holy fuck is this show still so, so good. We watch a lot of gay romance because of BL, and I am having so much fun watching the show about gay divorce. I loved the time we spent in Paris, Daniel’s shifting role in the narrative, and the new insights we got into Lestat this season. I will miss Claudia so much, and I have to give a standing ovation to Delainey Hayles stepping into the role of Claudia and doing the damn thing this season. I just love seeing my little fucked up gay people torment each other on screen.
I'm still thinking about Louis and Lestat reuniting in a hurricane after Claudia derided this as yet another chapter in their stormy romance.
Dropped Shows
Unfortunately, everyone can’t win. Some of these shows are just too long for me to keep up with them, and oftentimes I get bored. I’ve currently dropped:
Lovesick 2024 - I may go back. We’ll see
Jack & Joker - It’s just too long, and they just killed Jennie and a kid. I’m good.
Fourever You - I’m bored with Earth always playing this character type.
Pluto - Namtam and Film are beautiful, but this looks too messy right now.
Every You, Every Me - Wasn’t intrigued after episode 1, but the commentary may draw me back.
Kidnap - Ohm is not enough to keep me invested in this show.
Uncle Unknown - How did they make a 6 minute show feel slow?
I’m genuinely not trying to be harsh to Thai shows out here, but I just do not have the time to keep up with all of them when they’re this long and dragging.
Thanks for stopping by, and let me know if there’s something I missed that I should check out.
#Ben watches#first note of love#let free the curse of taekwondo#apple my love#haunted hearts#my damn business#eccentric romance#see your love#love is like a poison#doku koi: doku mo sugireba koi to naru#love in the air koi#love in the air: koi no yokan#our youth#miseinen#smells like green spirit#blue canvas of youthful days#interview with the vampire#bl series#japanese bl#thai gl#taiwanese bl#chinese bl#filipino bl#korean bl
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You know, when you consider Azure Moon as a self-contained narrative, the use of ‘unanswered questions’ and ambiguity as a reinforcement of the themes of the route are really effective. I honestly think having the route not address the Slithers was the best narrative choice IntSys could possibly have made given the themes of Azure Moon.
Like. The developers didn’t really expect people to actually play all the routes; they designed the game so ‘everyone would have a different experience.’ As a result, all the routes have very different themes and scopes. Azure Moon is the tightest, most character-driven narrative despite not being the shortest route.
And Azure Moon is about grief.
Grief hangs over the entire route; except for Mercedes, every single one of the Blue Lions is haunted by the Tragedy of Duscur and the unanswered questions surrounding it. Felix loses his brother directly, and his worldview and best friend to the aftermath. Ingrid loses her fiance, but also her sense of security; without Glenn, her people may starve, and her personal future is now uncertain. Sylvain and Glenn were the same age, so we can assume they were friends, though his loss is less direct; Sylvain is surrounded by people broken by loss, including his own father. Annette’s father leaves her family in disgrace over being unable to stop the tragedy. Ashe loses his foster brother to the aftermath; and later his foster father as well.
Dimitri and Dedue lose everything.
All of them spend the whole route wanting to find answers and some kind of closure for this event. It drives the entire narrative for all of the Lions actually from Faerghus. Mercedes, meanwhile, stands as an outside observer to that tragedy - but she is also dealing with her own personal tragedy and unanswered questions about her brother, and that drives her during Azure Moon.
And the thing about grief is that sometimes you never get closure. But you still have to move on, anyway.
That’s the whole point of Azure Moon. Dimitri has to move on. All the Lions have to move on.
Mercedes cannot regain her brother, whether you find out his identity or not in the route. She has to move on anyway. Dimitri cannot reconcile with his family, not with Rufus (Did Dimitri kill him? We the viewer can never really know for sure) and not with Edelgard. He never finds out whether Patricia wanted to kill his father, or whether she loved Dimitri at all (and we the viewer don’t, either). He has to move on anyway. The Lions never find out the cause of the tragedy.
They have to move on anyway.
Involving the Slithers at that point would not only add a bunch of last-minute narrative complications that aren’t necessary in Azure Moon, it would undermine the emotional impact of the route (in much the same way the last map of Verdant Wind does, honestly). The themes of Azure Moon not only don’t need to answer the question of the Slithers; not answering that question is the point. Bringing up the Slithers at that point would take all the air out of the personal drama the route takes its entire runtime addressing.
Dimitri hesitates at the end. He stops, and tries to look back, and Byleth stops him. He has to move on. He can’t keep looking back at Duscur. He’s got to walk forward.
And that means leaving his questions unanswered.
#Fire Emblem Three Houses#FE3H#Blue Lions#Like honestly if you look at the route as the ONLY route you play#The story is incredibly well self-contained#In a way that also makes you want to play other routes!#Azure Moon IMO is really effective from an emotional impact perspective#Like. assuming you like deconstructions of Hamlet because that's what Azure Moon is lbr#Incidentally I personally don't think Dimitri actually killed Rufus....but I don't know!! He could have!! I will never know for sure.#That's the point.
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IVY - rafe cameron .⋆·˚ ༘ *
navigation ! masterlist
warnings: language and mentions of alcohol
summary: rafe came back after swearing he never would.
author's note: we are sooo back guys :]
The moment Rafe’s hand snaked up your waist after three years of no contact, your mind went full-blank.
You never thought that Rafe, of all people - who are you kidding, you always did - would come back one day after swearing on his dad that he never would.
It’s not like he ever really liked his dad anyway.
So as you turned around in shock to connect your drunk glossy eyes to his, it felt wrong. So wrong. Sarah had told you he’d found someone new. That he’d found a pretty blonde who looked better next to him. She’d never say it to your face, but the pictures you’d see on his account screamed it at you.
It took you a second to remember that he probably mistook you for her, and you take a step back, shaking your head quickly.
“Wait, Y/N,” He whispers, and even in the bustling crowd, it reaches you just fine. You wait and turn, feeling dizzy. “Excuse me?” You say, too stunned to make up any other words. You want to shove him away and scream at him, yet his fucking beautiful blue eyes hold you in place.
“Can we talk? By my bike?” He says, inching a little closer so that his voice would reach you. His body towers over yours and the blue and purple lights dim a little.
“No?!” You say defensively, making it sound more like a question. “Who even are you?” You say jokingly, your freshly manicured hand landing on his shoulder and pushing him slightly away. He doesn’t resist. He takes a step back and puts his hands up in understanding. “Y/N. Please. I need to tell you some things I needed to tell you all those years ago.”
You feel your eyes sting, and a tear rolls away. You instantly turn away from him to the backyard, looking at all the half-naked people in the pool, even though your eyes are getting blurry.
He doesn’t say anything. He knows you. He waits for you to turn around.
“Your drinking problem never went away, did it?” You finally manage, barely saying it without crying. Your voice breaks, but he doesn’t notice it with the loud sound of bass-boosted Travis Scott playing in the background.
“No, Y/N, I know I’m drunk. Which is probably why I’m not rethinking this. Just 5 minutes. Please.” He says, frowning. He sounds like he’s going to cry too.
“Isn’t she here?” You spit out, rolling your eyes. Your heart has never beaten so fast before. You believe him. It must’ve been a big deal if it’s still breaking him after three years. “I tried to make me and her work. She’s not you.” He says and your heart stops.
It fucking stops.
“Rafe, stop it. You’re being mean,” You say, raising your voice. You don’t want to believe him. You don’t want to believe all the tears you shed were for nothing. You don’t want to believe when Sarah told you herself that his brother sucked, you felt like the only person who understood yourself. You hated him, yet you loved him too. And you didn’t want to believe he was sorry. You wanted to get the closure and move on. But every day, you found yourself refusing to take the picture of you and him off your bedstand. Just in case this happened.
“Mean? Y/N, what are you saying? I…” He says and you interrupt. “No, Rafe, I’m not fucking falling for this again.” You say and shake your head. Your hands are feeling so empty. You want to grab his flesh, hug him, and tell him you forgive him. For ignoring your calls when things would be rough at home all those years ago. For getting wasted and coming home, yelling at you because his dad had cut his only source of income for his rich shit. You wanna tell him it’s okay, that he was 17 and you know he didn’t know life isn’t just about that. But you can’t. Because what if he doesn’t think that like you do? What if that girl is waiting for him to come back with her drink?
“For what? Baby, I…” His voice breaks again when he calls you baby, and your body stiffens. He sounds broken and you can’t help but put your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t call me that,” You say, making it sound like advice and not a threat. “You should leave, you’re not feeling okay. You’re out of your…” You say and he shakes his head. “No, Y/N, I’m not okay because you won’t let me talk to you. I didn’t want to ruin your night, I just… I have to tell you how I feel. I’ve bottled it up for too long.”
A tear rolls down your face, and he notices it. “Don’t cry, I’m… I’m sorry.” There you go. He’s said it. He’s sorry.
The magic word. It goes through your brain and every single cell, making you shiver. You nod involuntarily, wiping your tears away with the palm of your hand. “You’re crying too.” You say, looking down at the space between the two of you. He’s wearing the shoes you bought him for his 17th birthday.
“I am.” He says and sniffs, looking away. He chuckles to lighten the mood and lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry for everything. I was a kid and I didn’t realize what I was doing wrong. I know better now.” He says and nods repeatedly.
“And I’m not with her. I… we didn’t even like each other like that. She once asked me if I was gay because of how uninterested I was.” He says and you laugh. The fact that something not even funny could sound funny coming out of his mouth makes you blush. He smiles from ear to ear when he hears your laugh. “I missed that laugh.” He whispers.
“So… do you forgive me?” He says and your smile disappears. “Wait, Y/N, don’t be like that. I’ve changed. I’ll change more. I’ll change however you want if it means I’ll have you again…”
“Okay, Rafe, I understand.” You say and nod. “I just… why three years? Where were you?” You say and rub your forehead.
He takes a deep breath and puts his drink down. He hesitates to cup your face, but then you give him the nod of permission, and he does. “Because I wasn’t in a good enough place to be with you. I wanted you to be with someone you truly deserved, even if it wasn’t me.”
The next few seconds happen before you can digest his words. His lips part and gently crash onto yours, making your breath get stuck in your throat. His head leans forward and his thumb caresses your jawline as you melt into him. You smile through the kiss and your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer.
He pulls away abruptly and you frown. “Wha…” You try to protest but he stops you. “As much as I would love to keep on kissing you and more, I’m not here for this tonight. I’m not too drunk to drive so let’s go under that one tree we always hung out under. Come on.” His words make you chuckle as he pulls on your hand through the crowd, leading you to his bike. No matter how intoxicated you both are, you feel safe with him for the first time, because you know he’s not the same person he was all those years ago.
#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x you#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx#outer banks x reader#rafe cameron one shot#— 🏝 my work
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