#i’ve eaten pizza and had thoughts
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when i get back from europe y’all better be ready for at least 7 oneshots/short fics from me. i quite literally walk around, see stuff, and have fandom moments that if i don’t write them i’ll lose it. i’ve got 7 ideas as of rn but i’ve still got like two weeks left here so….be ready!! most are jegulus but i’ve got some wolfstar, black bros, and full group marauders ideas as well (some main 4 marauders, some entire fandom characters).
@killerqueen-ofwillowgreen be ready bestie cuz i’m about to make our thoughts come to life
#when i tell y’all these come to me like messages from the gods#i’ve eaten pizza and had thoughts#seen paintings#seen cats#wedding dress shops#they come from no where#but i cant wait to write them!!#marauders#jegulus#wolfstar#black brothers#bestie peri!!!#asher says :)
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I really hate how much my brain hates to do new things sometimes
#oops i’m ranting in the tags apparently#tw for uhh depression and anxiety and eating difficulties in the tags if you read them#i made it to the door of a cafe two blocks from my flat#i’ve walked past it a dozen times in the six months i’ve lived here#and the menu looks good it’s coffee and breakfast foods and sandwiches#and they have donuts from a donut place i like#but it’s in a building with like three doors right next to each other and i didn’t know which one it was#and now i do bc i thought to check the address online#and made it to the door but it looks small and there were People there because it’s like noon duh#and i couldn’t see if there was more table just by peeking through the window while trying to look like i wasn’t peeking in#so i stood a foot away from the door and then left and went to my normal coffee place one block in the other direction#but i still haven’t gotten FOOD which is … not great i haven’t eaten anything in a couple days#i mean i had chinese food that i split between sat and sun as my lunch at work#but i should probably eat something but i’m tired of only going to the chipotle near safeway or the pizza bar which isn’t open yet anyway#which leads us back to i hate my brain and i’ll probably just end up getting chipotle again#but there are so many local restaurants that i want to try!! but i’m so picky about food while also hating to ask for modifications#and i used up most of the energy today dragging myself into the shower for the first time in dayss#and i need to do laundry and go grocery shopping and do the dishes and and and#and i’m still fucking exhausted even though i passed out on the couch last night and didn’t drag myself out until like 11 am#and i have work tomorrow so laundry NEEDS to happen because i worked eight days in a row and have zero clean work clothes#and i can hear my stomach growling at me because coffee was not enough and i know better and i’m really not trying to starve myself to death#but goddamn i just don’t want to have to do anything#i hate this#why brain why#mental health: deteriorating#my ramblings
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When I worked pizza it was a rough gig. I’ve talked about getting fired but the reality was that it was ridiculously easy to get fired at that place. For that reason it was a bit hard to get attached to new hires. Until they passed the two month mark it wasn’t worth forming emotional attachments.
Enter Daisy. There was nothing wrong with Daisy, really, as a person. She just was a bit ditzy and couldn’t hustle worth a damn. For these sins the veteran staff was almost constantly annoyed at Daisy.
But she was blithely unconcerned or unaware of our frostiness. She greeted us with chirpy friendliness every day that was undeterred by our almost blatant ignoring of her. This was fine with Daisy. She’d fill the silence we left by talking our ears off about her dead beat boyfriend, whatever thought was in her head that moment, and the current drama in her friend circle.
One day we snapped. Daisy clearly needed some hazing because we were going crazy. She made herself a pizza for dinner and passed it off to the guy working the ovens, then went to the bathroom.
I don’t remember this being premeditated but all three of us left in her wake lunged for the anchovies.
See. We had anchovies on hand for the very rare occasions someone asked for them on a pizza. It was terribly uncommon but we had them. It stunk up the entire restaurant every time anchovy went in the oven so we all unilaterally loathed anchovies. We assumed Daisy would loathe them too. We poured the fish juice from the can all over her pizza.
We all then went nonchalantly about our work. Daisy’s pizza came out and I sliced it for her as she strolled over from the bathroom. She smiled and thanked me and sat with her back to us, scrolling her phone.
We waited like horrible little imps of mischief, anticipating her outraged and disgusted cries. She lifted the pizza and we leaned closer, malicious in our delight. She took a bite. She chewed. Swallowed. Took another bite.
Slowly we became transfixed. We left off all our closing clean up tasks to watch Daisy’s back as she ate her pizza with every sign of enjoyment. Our malevolence fizzes out into shock. She didn’t say a peep about the anchovy juice. The oven guy had emptied the can over her food and she was unmoved. We couldn’t look away.
We were silent as she finished and brought her plate over to be bussed. We stared at her.
“What?”
“Did you… like… your pizza?”
“It was fine.”
I broke. I was broken. This girl, this annoying cheerful girl, had broken me. “Daisy,” I said in agony, “We poured anchovy juice all over it. How did you even eat that pizza!?”
“Oh! I thought it was really salty! I don’t actually have a lot of taste buds there’s this weird thing with my nose. I really only get like salty, sweet, bitter. You guys put anchovy juice on it!? That’s so funny!”
Reader, she meant it. She thought it was hilarious that we had spiked her pizza with fish oil. She thought it was even funnier that she’d eaten it all without knowing. We all kept laughing together through closing duties, repeating “I thought it was salty!”
That was it. Daisy was part of the team. She had eaten all the malice we had toward her and come out smiling. She won. The following story took place well over a decade ago. I’m aware it contains shitty behavior. You’re supposed to realize it was shitty that’s why I wrote it.
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Late Night Talks
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
A/N: I’ve wanted angst, so this happened. Here’s another angsty drabble I’ve also written, if you’re interested. Comment your thoughts if you’re comfortable <3, I wanna know if this made you feel as empty as it did to me T-T (Link to pt.2 here)
Tags: Angst, hurt/no comfort, JASON SAY SOMETHING ANYTHING
Word Count: 2.2k
“Do you remember how we met?” You took another drink, the taste of alcohol invading your mouth.
“Hm.” Jason hummed, a glass of water in front of him, domino mask plopped next to it.
“I laugh every time I think of it.” You chuckled. “You smacked me pretty hard that day.”
Jason groaned as you giggled at your words. Your drunk self reminiscing on old memories, memories you didn’t dare think about sober.
“Don’t remind me, I was delirious from blood loss.” Jason winced at the memory. “Not my best moment.”
“Fair enough, it wasn’t very smart of me to approach a masked man bleeding onto the street.” You smiled, feeling the alcohol warm you. “So much has changed since then.” You swirled your glass, watching the liquid spin.
You held up your glass cup, watching the droplets fall down the sides. You hadn’t realized you drank so much that you had spilled some of your drink on the coffee table, your hand accidentally wiping it. The liquid surrounding your glass.
Jason grabbed a napkin to wipe underneath your drink. Grabbing your hand to wipe your fingers after.
You hands felt hot. You grabbed your cold cup to empty out the rest, not letting your mind wander too long on the contact.
“Look at us now, we’re sitting against my couch as I finish this bottle.” You lift the nearly empty wine bottle as you refilled your glass, focusing on trying not to get a drop over the edge this time. “You don’t have a mask on and we’re friends! No hitting too!”
Jason laid his head against the cushions as he watched you take another long drink.
He had stopped by unexpectedly. Seeking the comfort of someone else, so he dropped in by your window. He crawled in, making his footsteps loud enough to alert you that he was visiting you, but he found you, next to your couch, tipsy.
He rarely saw you drink. He hadn’t seen you at all the last couple of weeks.
Something must have been bothering you to bring out a bottle, half empty when he showed up. He was too afraid to ask what brought out this rare occasion, he already wasn’t around enough to know, so if you wanted to drink to forget, then he would stay quiet.
So Jason stayed, sitting on the floor with you, leaning against your couch. Barely fitting in the space between your couch and the coffee table. He listened to you ramble about anything that came to your mind. Dessert shops you wanted to try, a new shirt you saw at the store, the outrageous grocery prices.
He asked if you had eaten before you started drinking, bringing you a cup of water.
You were in a talkative mood, answering every question he asked.
“What did you eat?” Jason gently asked.
“Leftover pizza.”You cheerfully answered, making a triangle with your fingers to add to your point.
“Did you drink water today?”
“No.” You quietly said, quickly putting your hands down, pouting as you refused to look at him.
Cute. Jason thought.
“How was work?”
You eyes brightened.
“I have to tell you about this one lady that came in today, I wanted to shove my pen down her throat for how much attitude she gave me—“
As you talked, he made sure you were taking care of yourself. He didn’t want to see you dragging too much in the morning, but he also wouldn’t mind seeing your bed head as you rummaged through the fridge for a quick meal and a water.
“Actually, I lied earlier. I’ve haven’t changed. At all.” You stilled. The drunk, cheerful atmosphere suddenly getting serious.
The shift in your voice capturing Jason’s attention as he lifted his head to stare at you fully.
“I don’t think so.” He reassured you. Curious about your sudden self-conscious attitude.
Your eyebrows lower, clearly bothered by what Jason said.
“You don’t see it because you only see one version of me.” You stated, talking to Jason like that was a certain fact. “You don’t have anything to compare it to.”
“I don’t believe that.” Jason remarked, amused at your drunken talk. He’s never heard you so pouty, but also talking back to him with more spite.
“No, no,” You waved a finger in his face. Too close to his face, but the alcohol blurred your hand-eye coordination. “I’m a completely different person when I’m not with you.”
Jason’s ears perking up at the sudden confession.
You glanced at Jason, waving your hands to prove your point, eyes half-lidded, a slight glossiness to them.
“I’m a major perfectionist. I don’t allow myself to make mistakes. I try to calculate every little wrong move I could possibly make and find ways to handle each and every one.”
You took another sip. Jason sat up straighter, your sudden honesty causing him to look at you, really look at you. To dial into your expression, the subtle movements influenced from the alcohol and your eyes. You looked more relaxed, but sadness melted into your tone, into your body language.
“I had to be the best, to know the most, to constantly keep myself busy.” You looked off to the window behind Jason’s head. Losing yourself to your inner thoughts.
Jason waited, not wanting to interrupt. His intuition telling him that this was important, a rare vulnerable moment from you.
“You were the first person to see me completely ruined. I made so many mistakes in front of you. You made fun of my fuck ups and I was so shocked when you called me an ‘airhead.’” You loudly laughed, trying to cover up your somber feelings.
“I’ve never heard that in my life!” Your eyes crinkled from the wide smile on your face. “I was so angry at you, I thought, ‘Who’s this asshole!?’ But, despite all the teasing, I’ve never felt so relieved. I didn’t have to keep up an appearance with you. You accepted the bad version of me.”
You lazily leaned your head on the couch, the side of your face feeling the fabric. Facing Jason as you laid on your side. Jason followed after you, laying his head down too. He kept some distance between your faces, but his hand laid close to yours. He wouldn’t touch you, but he would keep his hand close.
Your face had frowned. Jason lazily smiled at your pouty look returning, wondering what you were going to say next..
“It felt suffocating when you left.” You confessed.
Jason’s eyes widened, smile disappearing.
“I was alone, trying to keep up my fake image.” Your voice got quiet. Suddenly aware of the heaviness of your words.
Jason faltered. The rawness of your voice catching him off guard.
“I missed you when you left me alone. I couldn’t handle this apartment. I was suffocating without you here.” Your eyes watered, your throat aching.
Your voice wobbled, but you mustered any self-control to blink the tears away.
Jason stared at you, his brain not fully comprehending watching your eyes water.
He had never seen you cry. So he was at a loss, speechless as his mouth opened to comfort you, but nothing came out.
You took a deep breath, gaining back control of yourself.
“But you came back. You’re here.” You closed your eyes, voice steadier, but foolishly believing that tears won’t fall if you don’t open your eyes.
Jason’s hand inched closer to yours. Cautiously about to touch your fingers.
“But it hurts. It hurts so much.” You weakly said.
His hand faltered, never reaching yours.
“I want so much. Too much.”
Jason’s hands clenched
“I didn’t know what was happening to me. I smiled every time you came into my thoughts.” Your tears building at the corners of your eyes. “I wondered if you smiled like I did. If I’m ever on your mind—”
“Don’t.” Jason interrupted, watching a lone tear fall from your eye, dropping onto the couch.
“I worry about you, your vigilante stuff, if you were hurting. That I wasn’t there.”
“Stop. Please.” Jason pressed his eyes shut, somehow thinking it would stop him from hearing your voice. So he wouldn’t have to look at the tears.
“But—but, I know better. I know you’re not mine. I can’t reach for you.” You slurred, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.
You opened your eyes, tears still falling to the side of your face. You watched Jason, he was tense, eyes closed and his eyebrows pushed together.
“I can’t ask you to stop being Red Hood. I could never ask that of you.” You sniffed, softly whispering to him, afraid someone might over hear your well kept secrets. “I’ve dreamed of how happy you could be, but I know you wouldn’t trade your happiness for the cost of leaving other people alone, other people that you want to save. I can’t breathe knowing that I would be responsible for all your guilt. That I would selfishly keep you away from something greater.”
Jason’s expression weakened. His eyebrows relaxing, his frown not as prominent at your tender words.
“But I scared myself. I would be selfish.” You continued. “I would let you be mad at me for the rest of your life, for asking something so awful.”
Jason’s eyes opened, a sickening sad tenderness in his gaze.
“I would never be mad at you.” He whispered back, voice hoarse.
You couldn’t take it. You pressed your face into the cushion, trying to let as much of the tears disappear into the fabric. You stayed there for a moment before you looked back at Jason, your eyelashes covered in tears, the tip of your nose pink from the emotions.
“I believe that being next to you is the right thing for me,” You hesitated, “But I don’t think you want to be next to me.”
Jason winced. A prick in his chest at your words.
“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you to tell me—it will ruin me.” You spoke through the fresh tears.
You lifted your hand from the bottom of the couch, reaching out to Jason’s face. He didn’t move away from you like he always did, he was so still, you thought maybe this was another fabrication you dreamed, but when your fingers landed on his cheek, it was soft. You flinched from him like you were touching a hot burner.
With increasing confidence that he might not pull away, you laid your fingers back on his face, softly tracing the edges of his scars. You were past your limit, but if this was possibly the last night that Jason came by after running your mouth, then you wanted at least this—this last goodbye, this last moment of Jason to yourself.
Jason didn’t say anything. He stayed still while you touched him, hands clenched, watching your eyes, your lips tremble, the lines of tears left on your face.
You took your time to memorize his features. To look at Jason. You wished he got mad at you, rejected your hand touching him, rejected your words, but he didn’t. He could’ve left whenever he wanted, not listening to your drunk self, but he was still laying here, facing you.
“I would have let you ruin me.” You whispered, so soft that you barely heard yourself.
You let go of Jason, clenching onto the couch cushion below your head. You closed your eyes, tired from the emotions, tired from the alcohol, tired from the thoughts of waking up tomorrow to everything you did.
Jason rubbed his cheek, where you touched him.
He stared at your vulnerable state, watching a single tear cling to your lashes.
He reached forward, ready to wipe your eyes, but he stopped. Hearing your quiet whimper as you turned your face to bury your head in your arms on the couch.
His hand dropped.
You tried to get yourself under control, but the tears wouldn’t stop. You sniffled, trying anything to steady the trembling and the uncontrollable breathing. A couple of deep breaths later, you lifted your head, feeling ready to apologize for everything that happened in your drunken state.
“Jay, I’m sor—“
He was gone.
The space he sat in was empty. No droop in the cushion where he leaned into.
You stilled, tears pausing, mindlessly staring, wondering if you had made up everything that happened.
You reached at the cushion, feeling at the threads, warmth still lingering.
You were calm. Too calm.
You glanced at the coffee table. No domino mask, but his glass was still there, completely full.
He left. He really left.
You curled into the couch, your sobbing muffled into the cushions. Grabbing the edges as you yelled at yourself.
“You idiot.” You pulled at your hair, crushing your hands into the cushions. “I fucked up—I really fucked up.” You threw a pillow, anger overtaking you.
“I can’t do anything right!” You cried into your hands.
Finally letting yourself release the cries you’ve been pushing down.
The high from the anger died out quickly, your shoulders drooping. Your sobs drowning into quiet muffles. You legs aching from sitting on the floor, your eyes hurting from too many tears.
You quieted down.
Your hands falling from your face to your lap, emptily looking at the crevices of your hands.
“This is the one mistake I should’ve kept hidden from you.” You trembled, speaking into the emptiness of your living room.
Jason sat outside your window, out of sight as he listened.
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so around the start of the summer I ate literally as much as my body could possibly handle every day, every meal. I got in the habit of gorging myself until I could hardly breathe, could not stand or sit or even lay down comfortably, and my belly was aching. I couldn’t even sleep, nor could I really do much of anything but sit there helplessly and gasp or groan at how big I’d gotten, and how full I’d become. This was exactly what I wanted.
I was consuming between 7000-12000 calories a day during this time. This lasted about 2 months or so, maybe 10 weeks. I rarely took a break, and this had…intense consequences on my capacity. I routinely ate things like: entire family sized dinner portions for each component(vegetables, starches, meats). Family sized fast food meal deals(usually about 5 combos worth). 7-8 combos from various fast food places(usually their entire menu). Party sized or tailgater tray offerings from restaurants(usually enough for 10-15 people).
I cannot become full now. No matter what I do, if I’m not eating literally family sized portions, I’m not filled. I can become comfortably satiated after 3-4 meals at once, but my belly constantly yearns for more.
I finally have started experiencing some of the crazy ‘feedism fantasy’ tropes I thought weren’t real (or at least greatly exaggerated due to ya know…writing lol). Things like
I literally can get hunger pangs WHILE MY STOMACH HAS A REASONABLE AMOUNT OF FOOD INSIDE. I’m talking I’ve already eaten a heavy plate that is literally 3-4lbs of food. Gone. Inside me. But my belly has the NERVE to growl around it and demand more food.
Sometimes I become anxious when the only amount of food available to me is a normal serving size (this is honestly the hottest. I’m talking whiny, worried, needy feelings because I only got enough food for 1 person.)
i crave eating 24/7, or for long periods. I catch myself daydreaming about sitting down with enough food for a large gathering, and stuffing it all inside myself for literal hours. I’m not kidding, I want to eat for 6-8 hours straight of almost nonstop consumption. I just want to sit down, lean back with my gut supported by my lap or my couch, and stuff it so completely full. I would prefer if my primary activity for the day was eating.
hunger and arousal are now so completely linked I almost cannot experience one without the other…which means I’m hungry and horny pretty much unceasingly. Constantly my mind goes back to sex and eating. I’m literally just daydreaming in the background about when I will get to open my mouth next.
I’ve now eaten many of the feeding fantasy portions. Family meals, party trays, entire cakes, multiple entire pizzas, entire trays of baked goods, entire boxes of cakes, a box of donuts, entire pies, and generally levels of excess that I can only describe as obscene.
This has caused me to really fatten up. I gained 40 or so lbs from the end of March to the middle of July. I also happened to do this without an encouraging, physical, coercive or forceful feeder, which means if I were to have these (what I desperately crave), I imagine I would reach new capacity heights. I primarily eat for fullness. I love that food drunk fullness feeling where my entire body stops functioning properly. I love feeling like all I can literally do is let my belly do its thing and process all the food I gave it. I’m desperate for it. I constantly crave it. The weight gain is an unintentional but welcomed side effect of my incessant gorging.
I cannot wait for my next opportunity. I have so many ideas. Will I finally try 3 pizzas? Will I try to eat more foot longs than I am tall? Will I make myself an entire family banquet and then greedily try and eat it myself? I need to do it soon. I can’t keep eating enough for 6-7 people each day…I need more, and I need it all at once.
#me#pcbg essay#gaining weight on purpose#feeding kink#glorify obesity#fatty getting fatter#feedee feeder#gaining weight#extreme feederism#fattening myself#male wg#ssbhm feedee#gaining kink#gaining fat#fat pig#solid lard#stuffed full#stuffed feedee
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Fixing us. Part 5.
Nat heard the door open and close, followed by Y/N’s worried voice. “Nat?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” Nat called out, focusing on the garlic bread. It wasn’t long before she heard footsteps walking towards the kitchen.
“What happened?” Y/N asked, her voice tense.
“What happened?” Nat repeated, looking up from the oven.
“You called me. You called me and asked me to come home. The last time you did that was when Bucky almost died on that mission. So, who got hurt? Who died?”
“Relax, Y/N. No one’s dead and no one got hurt.”
“Oh...” Y/N said, setting her phone and purse down on the counter before leaning against it. “Well, then why’d you call me?”
“Can’t I call my wife, check up on her, and ask when she’s coming home?”
“You usually don’t. You text me, but you never call. Your definition of checking up on me is saying a few words before bed and then going to sleep,” Y/N said truthfully. “So, what's wrong? What do you need?”
“Nothing’s wrong and I don’t need anything. I thought maybe we could have dinner together,” Nat said as she finished preparing the garlic bread, the aroma of garlic and butter filling the kitchen.
“You made dinner?"
"Yes, why do you sound so surprised?"
"In the seven years that we have been together, you've never cooked. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Did you have someone make this?"
"I had someone teach me how to make this so that I could surprise you. I know it's your favorite."
"It was my favorite... I haven't eaten it in over a year. Once you have too much of a good thing, you stop appreciating it."
"I— It's fine. I can order pizza."
"You don't have to order pizza. Thank you for dinner, but I'll eat it when I get back."
"When you get back? Where are you going?"
"Carol invited me and the girls out to talk and for drinks since we were, well, interrupted."
"When did she invite you?"
"She called right after you did. I told her I wasn't sure if I could make it because you needed me."
"I do need you."
"Dinner's ready and no one's hurt. It seems like you've got everything handled," Y/N said, looking around the kitchen. "I won't be gone long. I'm going to get dressed. I'll see you later."
Y/N left the kitchen, leaving Nat confused. She quickly wiped her hands clean before heading up the stairs to their shared bedroom.
"Y/N."
"Yes, Nat?" Y/N said, looking away from her clothes.
"You can't go out with Carol."
"Why not?" Y/N asked, pulling out a dress.
"Because Carol doesn't have your best interests at heart."
"When was the last time you had my best interests at heart?" Y/N shot back, making Nat let out a frustrated sigh as she ran her hands through her hair.
"I get that you're upset with me, especially after last night, but—"
"I'm not upset about last night."
"You're not?" Nat asked, confused.
"No, I'm not upset. If I were, you would be the first to know."
"If you're not upset, then... why would you go out for drinks with Carol?"
"Because I need a break, Nat. I need to breathe. You can’t just call me up and expect everything to be fine because you made dinner for the first time ever."
Nat’s shoulders slumped, and she took a step closer. “I know I’ve screwed up. I know I haven’t been here the way I should be, but I’m trying, Y/N. I really am.”
“You’re trying?” Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “How many years have we been together, Natalia?” she asked, the use of her full name stinging Nat.
"Seven years."
"Seven years. Married for four, dated for two and a half years, engaged for five months, and you're the one trying?"
"For the past seven years, I have been trying. I have cared for you and protected you with my life. When you come home bloody and bruised from missions, I'm the one cleaning and stitching you up."
"When a part of your suit rips, I'm the one putting the pieces back together so that you don't get grilled by Fury."
"When something happens and it triggers you and you start to remember your past and lose yourself, I'm still here putting the pieces back together. And you're the one trying? One dinner isn't going to fix all of our problems."
"I know."
"Do you, Nat? Because it's only been 24 hours and that is not nearly enough time for either of us to decide what we really want."
"For either of us to decide what we want?" Nat repeated, her voice cracking slightly.
"I know what I want, Y/N, but I don't know what it is that you want from me."
"I don't know."
"You don't know? What does that mean? What do you mean you don't know?"
"It means I don't know, Nat. Okay? I finally started to figure things out for myself. I started going on morning runs and working out. I have a job now, and I have friends. I don't just sit around and wait for you to come back to me anymore. And now that I give you an ultimatum, you want to take it seriously."
"I have always taken our relationship seriously," Nat said, earning a skeptical look from Y/N.
"Do not look at me like that. I know lately I put my job and the team above you and our relationship. I realize that now and I'm sorry it took me this long to figure it out."
"Sorry doesn't fix things."
"I know that, Y/N, but I can't fix things if you don't talk to me. I can't read your mind and I won't know what's wrong if you don't tell me."
"What's wrong is me, Nat. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"What?"
"I keep thinking about the past and how things used to be. When we used to be happy. When I used to be happy."........
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Is this what you guys wanted? I had a friends advice and help but im stuck on part five I know where I want this to go but I can't get pass this part. Should I just drop the rest of part five or switch it up?
Also I'm writing so many other story's at once it's hard to keep up.
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So does eddie ever realize that Steve's moment of "maybe I should retire" was based around the fact that he was getting death threat letters? Or is he just too excited by the prospect that he just focuses on how much fun it would be to have Steve w him all the time?
He does eventually make the connection, but it takes time.
Steve mentioned retiring before Eddie had any inkling of the letters so it’s not an obvious connection for him. Especially because Steve still talked about retiring after Eddie found out.
He’s clouded by the possibility of having it all.
Eddie loves touring. He loves every aspect of it and he loves the possibility of being able to do whatever they want whenever they want. The best times of Eddie’s life were when Steve joined Corroded Coffin on the road, and like. Eddie gets it.
Steve was meant to be a teacher. He’s good at his job and he loves it, and the world is better off because Steve was a teacher. Eddie knows that.
It’s just… it’s just that they got together and then Corroded Coffin went from playing to five drunks at The Hideout to an opening act to headlining their own tours so fast. In those early days, Steve had all these health issues that they were learning to live with and then was in school, and then was working.
And yeah, he would spend the summer on the road with the band but then it was half the summer because he had to work to pay for school or because he was teaching summer school, and then it was even less. Then it was not at all.
The idea that Eddie could have it all made him blind to what – upon reflection – was so obvious.
Eddie would make a joke about how Steve won’t be blowing him off to write lesson plans next year and miss the way that Steve would cringe. He’d point out that Steve didn’t need to buy the funny encouragement stickers at the store because this was his last year teaching and then miss the hollowness in Steve’s voice when he says, “Yeah, I guess.”
It’s not until one day when Dustin’s over. They’re planning to play some new video game that he bought and Eddie’s trying to figure out how to connect his PS5 to the tv in his studio when Dustin asks, “Is Steve okay? Like, no bad test results or anything?”
“He’s fine,” Eddie says and then after a beat, “Why? Did he say something to you?”
“No, but you always bug him until he sets this shit up for you,” Dustin points out. “And I know that he’s in bed right now. At 5 o’clock in the afternoon. On a Saturday.”
“Yeah, thanks for that, Captain Obvious,” He replies sarcastically, waving some cords at him until Dustin takes them and plugs them in the back of the tv. “He has a headache.”
“Okayyyy, so he’s been having a lot of headaches then?” Dustin asked, matching the sarcasm in Eddie’s voice. “I’ve been here a lot since the – you know, death threats. He is either in bed or laying on the couch. I haven’t seen him exercise in-“
“He’s working on that,” Eddie says. “Would you go on a run when someone knows where you live and threatened to beat you to death? Nope. He’s just… working through it. Processing and shit. He has a therapist.”
“I thought that was for his mom?”
“A therapist can have more than one purpose.”
“I’m just saying, he seems depressed,” Dustin says after a bit, completely unwilling to let it go. “He barely hangs out with Robin, he didn’t come to D&D last week, and you were literally just complaining that Steve hasn’t been – gross – in the mood lately. It seems like he’s really checked out and he only gets like that when something is wrong.”
“He’s got that make up MRI coming up,” Eddie replies, but it feels like he’s reaching. His mind is slotting together how many times they’ve eaten pizza this month or how many times he’s woken up before Steve. Last weekend, they watched Star Trek: The Next Generation and Steve didn’t even complain. “I’m sure that’s it.”
Eddie confronts Steve in the morning.
They’re eating cereal at the kitchen table and Eddie watches as Steve picks the marshmallows out of his Luck Charms before asking bluntly, “Are you dying?”
A little too bluntly because Steve startles like he’s been shocked, “What?”
“So, that’s a no?” Eddie asks, and then to Steve’s bewildered look, “Dustin’s worried that you’re dying. He says you’re acting weird, and you are. I can’t trust that you’ll tell me things anymore so… So, I’m asking, and I will take your word that you’re not going to lie directly to my face. Are you dying?”
“No,” Steve says. “No, I – Ed, I’d never keep something like that from you.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“But you ARE acting weird,” Eddie insists. “I know that the letters were a lot and they were scary, and it’s completely normal to not be okay about it, but this seems like it’s something else. You’re not doing any of your normal Steve stuff so… what’s going on?”
“I don’t – Eddie, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay,” He says. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Don’t do that,” Steve tells him. “Don’t say it like you think I’m lying to you. I’m not. I – I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the letter. I didn’t know what to do, so stop… Stop treating me like you can’t trust me.”
“You’re hiding something, Steve! How can-“
“Do you know what I’m giving up?” Steve snaps, somewhere between sad and angry. He drops his spoon and pushes away from the table. “I would give up the world for you, Eddie, and I – I am! If you can’t trust me then what are we doing? I don’t want to be in my parents relationship and that’s what it feels like. I feel like I’m giving everything up so I can be here and you’re still unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy, Steve, I’m – I’m confused! I don’t know what’s going on. What are you giving up?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me!” Eddie exclaims, tugging on his hair before getting up and following Steve. They’re standing in front of the kitchen sink when Eddie says, “I want to understand. What’s going-“
“I don’t want to stop teaching.”
Eddie stops, and it’s like every conversation they’ve had for the last month slots into place with brand new context and he’s – god, he’s an idiot. “Steve, baby. You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do,” He says and he tries to smile like everything is fine. “We’re going to travel and it’s going to be really fun. It’s just hard right now.”
“I didn’t – god, Steve. I’m sorry if I pressured you into thinking that you – we travel during the summer and on spring break, and we go on dates on the weekend, and that’s enough for me, babe. I don’t need you to give up anything for me.”
“I want to.”
Eddie takes a breath and he squeezes Steve’s hand, “Would you ever make me stop playing guitar? Would you ever let me break up the band and stop making music so we could spend time together?”
“It’s different, Eddie.”
“No, it’s not,” He tells him. “It’s your life and it’s your passion, and I’m a really shitty husband if I take that from you.”
#Posts that are slightly too long#I really like the idea that Dustin is the one to realize that there’s something going on#eddie munson tiktok saga#steve harrington#eddie munson#dustin henderson
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can I request Mother Miranda next? i have this silly idea where MM's crow(s) has a habit of stashing all kind of shiny things near reader's house. Maybe she has a small porch that's not been used cause reader doesn't have time lounging around, and the sneaky crow is, like, yeah, this is perfect, and so reader goes about her life non the wiser to crow's shenanigans behind her back until one day she hears some sound outside and goes to investigate which ends with her stumbling upon MM rummaging through pile of... something. Awkward silence.
I don't know why I saw reader's house and immediately went 'ah yes, they live with Miranda' but ANYWAY enjoy <3
Small Thief (RL!Miranda x Reader)
Word count: 1.9k Warnings: None Summary: Cornelius is a sneaky lil gremlin.
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“Babe? Have you seen my keys?”
Overturned couch cushions and the contents of upturned cabinet drawers laid in the wake of your frantic rummaging. The very thought of having lost a set of keys to the headmistress’s house scared you enough, but it would be even worse if you had not simply misplaced them and had dropped them somewhere on the Campus. Especially with Mia’s habit of being an absolute gremlin and showing up unexpectedly in places she wasn’t supposed to be.
“Hmm?” Miranda strode into the room, hand fiddling with the button on the other wrist of her shirt.
“My keys, babe, my keys. I need them.”
You knew what was coming immediately. You knew it so well that you could almost quote her word for word. “Now, what did I tell you about carelessly tossing your keys down, little crow?” She and you both knew that if she had spoken those words to anybody else, it would have seen as harsh chastising. But you knew her better than that, and you could easily pick up on the way her mouth quirked up at the corners. The Miranda version of a playful grin.
“Forget about your keys, darling mine,” She said, striding over to you to kiss your cheek. “I will be awake when you return, I’ll let you in.”
“Andy, you know I’ve got class till late tonight.” Miranda smiled a little more visibly at the nickname you had picked for her – Devil Wears Prada had quickly become her favourite movie to watch with you, and she didn’t hide her blush fast enough when you called her it playfully for the first time while playfully testing out different variations of her name. Mir, Mira, Andy… “Professor Dimitrescu is making us recreate a classical piece in our own style.”
“That’s… Out of character.” Miranda frowned a little. “Very well then. I’ll still let you in.”
“But—”
“I’ll be awake.” Miranda gave you a pointed look, and it hit you then. Of course she would be awake – without you around to help with the growing pile of student council paperwork, full of requests and grievances that were above even Bela’s station, she would no doubt spend considerable time poring over them, with Cornelius on her shoulder. She often turned to work when you weren’t around.
“Okay, fine,” You said. You reached up and caressed her cheek, a playful smirk growing on your face. “Just don’t drool on the papers when you fall asleep this time, okay?” This earned you a tut from Miranda.
Hours later, and back aching from spending hours at an easel, you trudged into Miranda’s – you and Miranda’s – house, dropping your bag at your feet. You leaned back against the door and groaned, rolling your shoulders slowly to relieve some of the tension. The smell of pizza wafted down the hallway and into your nostrils, stomach growling angrily. “Oh, fuck yes,” you breathed, following the scent like a cartoon character. There, on the kitchen counter, laid an open box of your favourite pizza, and a note beside it which stated, in Miranda’s elegant cursive, “I am in my office. Come find me when you have eaten, little crow.”
Pizza slice in hand, you navigated the house, making your way to her study. The door was propped slightly open, and a gentle push on it made it swing forward, revealing Miranda bent over her home desk as she pored over some paperwork.
“Pizza?” You asked, holding a piece out.
Miranda crinkled her nose a little and shook her head. “Not tonight, Feather. I don’t think I have the stomach for it right now.” She tapped her fingers on the top of the desk as she sat back, peering at you with concern. “Are you alright? You seem exhausted.”
“Because I am,” You mumbled around a mouthful of cheese, sauce and dough. “Dimitrescu made me restart my piece three times. Three times! All because I mixed the pigment slightly wrong.” Miranda kept tapping her fingers one by one, the familiar sound almost mesmerizing you – almost.
Click, click, thud, click. Click, click, thud, click.
One of her golden finger guards was missing, the soft thud of her bare finger hitting the wooden surface jarring against the clicking you were used to. “Hey,” You spoke up, frowning. “Where’s your guard?”
Miranda shifted uncomfortably, hesitating. “I have no idea,” She eventually admitted. “I removed all of them earlier to take a bath, and when I turned back, one was missing.”
“Ah, so the great Miranda doesn’t have eyes in the back of her head after all.” Miranda shot you a playful glare, affection vaguely hidden beneath. “I’m sure it’ll show up somewhere.”
“It is rather… Concerning, that things keep going missing around here. I’m not usually this… Disorganized.”
“You aren’t disorganized at all,” You reassured her, licking the grease from your fingers. “Maybe we have a ghost.”
Miranda rolled her eyes lightheartedly at that, returning to her work. You grabbed your books and papers, settling in on the couch opposite her desk to study. Yeah, you were exhausted, but you still had other classes to study for, and not even being romantically bound to the headmistress would give you endless exceptions when it came to your studies.
***
Weeks passed, hours and hours of late classes beginning to make you feel burned out. You spent the days counting down to when it was finally done and you could spend your time with Miranda again – and quicker than you thought, it was over. You left Professor Dimitrescu’s class with a heavy wooden frame in hand, a begrudging A+ grade, and a sense of smug accomplishment. You couldn’t wait to get home and tell Miranda all about how Alcina had squirmed, heaving sighs and muttering as she scribbled an A+ onto the piece of paper before her.
Upon arriving at home, however, Miranda was nowhere to be found. Propping the frame up against the wall, you dug your phone from your pocket and checked it – no texts, no missed calls. Venturing deeper into the house, you peered into Miranda’s study to see it empty and dark. Brow furrowed, you ventured even further into the house. It was unlike Miranda to not tell you where she was – or rather, command that you go and be at her side.
“Andy?” You called out. You peered into darkened rooms, intrigue growing as you saw parts of the house you hadn’t seen before. Between the rush of moving you in with her, and exam season, and Alcina’s late classes, you had barely had time to spend sitting quietly with your avian goddess, let alone explore the depths of the house.
Just as you were about to give up and try and call Miranda, a crashing sound came from the very back of the house. Pulse rushing in your ears, you immediately jumped to alertness, searching for something to wield as a makeshift weapon. Eventually settling on a discarded iron poker, you held it aloft as you took slow steps towards the crashing sounds. You eventually came upon a glass door, a faint glow emanating from behind it. With one hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath and threw the door open, roaring.
“RAAAAAAARGH—Andy??”
Once the frantic flurrying of wings and dark feathers and Miranda’s cursing had died down, you could get a proper look at the small room you had entered. It was covered in screens rather than windows, and it took you a moment to realise it was a porch.
A porch filled with heaping miles of miscellanea, remarkably less organized than the rest of the house. Miranda stood in the midst of it all, her face flushed and scowling… At Cornelius. Eyebrows raised, you glanced between the two of them, taking a step back. Cornelius let out a rather loud, indignant caw, wings lifted at Miranda.
“You! She hissed, pointing her finger accusingly. “I knew it!”
A glint in the corner of your vision caught your eye, and at a single glance you heaved with relief.
“My keys,” You breathed. “Thank the gods—” You reached out to pick them up, and the fluttering of wings signaled Cornelius’s arrival. He stood with one foot on them, staring up at you with one burning yellow eye. It hit you then that this wasn’t some secret that Miranda kept, some uncharacteristic habit – no, Cornelius had been periodically stealing more and more items over the weeks, stashing him where he thought nobody would find them. You reached out again to try and take the keys, but he just cawed softly at you, clicking his beak.
“Hey, what—”
“You have to give him something else,” Miranda grumbled, sifting through the heaps of shiny objects. “I learned that the hard way.” She tapped her earlobe, and you noticed that one of her dangly gold earrings was missing, no doubt wherever Cornelius had stashed it again. On her finger was the golden finger guard, back where it belonged.
“Well, I don’t have anything shiny,” You spoke to the small thief. “But… You want my A+?” You held out the piece of paper with the grade and Alcina’s comments on it, and Cornelius studied it for a moment. With a quick chirp, he grabbed it from your hand and flew off to the back corner of the porch, no doubt to stash it somewhere safe. Miranda watched him with her mouth agape and threw her hands up in exasperation, calling after him, “Seriously? I feed you! I raised you from a baby! And they can give you paper?” Miranda took a breath as if to continue, then stopped, turning to you with raised eyebrows. “Did you say A+?”
Grinning, you nodded quickly. “Yep! Can we get pizza to celebrate?”
“Again, Feather? Aren’t you tired of it yet? I could order you something much nicer—”
“Nope, pizza,” You called out, moving back into the hallway of the house. Miranda followed you, pride in her eyes.
“Very well, then,” She sighed in mock exasperation. “But first, show me your work.”
There was a skip in your step as you led Miranda by the hand back to the entryway, where you had placed the painting. You held it up to her and watched as her eyes conveyed her emotions – surprise, awe, pride and then, as she gazed back up at you, love. “It’s beautiful,” She murmured. “We must display it at once.”
You followed her as she went to the kitchen, opening a cabinet and pulling out a small golden hook, and a nail. She hummed as she roamed the house, trying to figure out where the hang your artwork, and you blushed about it. Eventually, she settled for hanging it above her desk in her study, this simple gesture making your heart skip a beat, reminding you again her how she loved and prioritized you. She reached up, preparing to nail the hook into the wall, when a dark blur rushed by and left her hands empty. She growled a little under her breath and chased after it, leaving you in fits of giggling as she went.
“Cornelius! Get back here with that!”
To nobody’s surprise (but to Miranda’s chagrin), it only took the promise of some head scratches from you to get the hook back from the small thief. You could’ve sworn he gave an approving caw at the sight of your painting, as well.
#resident lover#resident lover fanfic#horror#resident evil#mother miranda#miranda x reader#request#resident evil 8#fanfic#fanfiction
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Curtains Closed
Summary:
Warnings: Heartbreaking angst I’m so sorry, cursing but I think that’s everything
Author’s Note: I am so sorry this is so sad fhskghs but i loved writing this request !! Please send me any more that you may be thinking of and I’ll do my best
The set is bustling by the time you get there, crew and cast dotted around everywhere all preparing to film and refilm scenes. This was the first time that you’d been able to make the visit, and yet Drew had been filming here for at least a month. It was a new film he was working on, but with you filming recently too, it felt like your paths just weren’t crossing.
“Hey (Y/N)!” One of the assistants smiles when she sees you, “His trailer is just over there.”
You thank her and turn in the direction of Drew’s trailer, where his character’s name is printed on a sheet of paper in the window. You knock and wait, almost nervously, for the door to open. You always felt nervous when you went weeks without seeing him properly, even a year into your relationship, that hadn’t changed.
It takes a few seconds before he comes to the door, swinging it open exaggeratively. His hair is messy and his top splashed with patches of water, a grin on his face.
“Hey baby!” Drew grins, though the moment stops quickly when he’s shot at with another spray of water, “You bitch!”
Your heart feels like it sinks for just a second, enough for you to notice. He hadn’t thought to kiss you when he saw you, not even reach out and wrap you in his arms.
“Sorry, sorry, come in,” He encourages, stepping out of the way for you to step through.
In the trailer, he’s joined by his costar, who you knew was called Emily. She was a beautiful girl, being a model before she’d become an actress, and she played his love interest in the film.
“Hey, you must be (Y/N) right?” Emily grins, holding a water gun in her hand that is still pointed at Drew.
“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you Emily.”
She doesn’t respond to you, instead squealing as Drew shoots her back, spraying her hair on either side of her face.
“So, how’s filming going?” You ask, sitting on the sofa across from Emily.
When Drew sits down, he takes the seat next to her.
“It’s good,” Drew nods, “We finished pretty early today, always easy doing scenes with Emily, you know?”
“Yeah, of course,” Emily grins, “We’re like a dream team on set.”
Your words seem to fail you, and you’re not sure why your chest feels so tight. This was stupid, right? They worked together, they were friends, it was good that Drew was working with someone that he got on well with. But that’s how it was when you two first got together, and part of you felt a sinking feeling that your instincts hadn’t failed you here.
“So where were you thinking of going tonight?” Drew asks, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table between the two couches.
You swallow the lump in your throat to respond but Emily cuts in quickly.
“Ooh why don’t you go to that Thai place we went to?” She suggests, and you’re sure that she has shuffled closer to Drew on the sofa.
“Yeah, we could do, it was so good,” Drew nods, “Me and Em went last week, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”
The lump is back in your throat, “Yeah, sure, whatever you fancy.”
~~~
That night, you and Drew decided to order food in instead of going out, after you’d told him that you didn’t feel well. He’d eaten three slices of your pizza when you told him that you couldn’t finish it. And he had believed you when you told him there was nothing else that was wrong.
You were both in the kitchen now, washing up the plates you’d used for your food.
“So, Emily seems nice,” You nod, dragging the kitchen towel over your plate.
“Yeah, she’s great, right?” Drew smiles, “We just have such a laugh on set, genuinely I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much.”
You felt like you could cry in that moment, not just from that comment but from the way his eyes seemed so bright when he spoke about her, the way you felt like his eyes hadn’t been on yours as much as normal.
He hands you the last plate and shakes his hands off into the water, taking one side of the towel in your hands to dry his off.
“Hey,” He takes it out of your hands and sets it down, wrapping his arms around your waist, “It’s good to properly see you again.”
You force yourself to smile, setting a hand on his chest.
“I mean it, I feel like we’ve both been way too busy recently,” He nods, “It’s good for us to have days like this.”
You still can’t force your body to bring out any words, just looking at the boy in front of you like you’d never seen him before.
“Hey?” Drew dips his tall figure down to try and catch your eyes, “This is good, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” You smile and he kisses your cheek, releasing his arms from around you.
Your heart feels heavy and empty all at once, your mind running a thousand thoughts and thinking of nothing at all. When he walks off to disappear into the lounge, you feel like a part of you disappears with him.
~~~
That night, you both get ready for bed like you normally do. You brush your teeth together and he goes into the bedroom whilst you’re washing your face. It’s all the routine that you’re used to, and when you shut off the ensuite light, he’s already sat propped up against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. You’re still wearing one of his tops to bed, another piece of normality that it felt comforting to keep.
“Drew, can I ask you something?” You ask cautiously, hovering by the side of the bed like you’re worried about getting in.
“Sure, what is it?” He shuts off his phone screen and puts it on the bedside table.
“Do you think things are still the same between us when we don’t see each other as much? You know, like when we’re both so busy?”
You watch the way his face drops a little, “What are you talking about?”
“I mean… we’ve just both been so busy recently.”
“Yeah, and we make it work,” He continues, “We still text, we call, and it’s only been a few weeks, we’ve done worse.”
You drag a hand through your hair, pulling out one of the tangles to distract yourself, “I don’t-“
“What is this (Y/N)?” He shakes his head, “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“I just,” You take a deep breath, if you don’t say it now you never will, “I saw you with Emily today and I-“
“This is about Emily?” He sits up straighter, “Are you kidding?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you two went to dinner together?”
His words fail him and it’s like you can see the confidence crumble just a little, “I don’t-“
“Is it because you knew that it would look weird? For you two to just be going out together?” You continue, a new sense of confidence fuelling your words, “If you didn’t think it was weird, you would’ve told me. We talk everyday Drew. What excuse did you come out with?Or did you just hope that I wouldn’t ask?”
“I just told you I was going out with the cast, it was last Friday,” He admits, as if he’s just been caught in the act completely.
Your heart sinks, “So you lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie to you, I mean, it wasn’t like that,” He scrambles, standing up now so that both of you were on either side of the bed now, too much and too little space between you all at once, “I just knew how you’d think it looked, and we hadn’t seen each other in a couple of weeks, and you were busy with work, and I just didn’t want you to worry.”
“So I’m busy working, and you’re out on dates with a girl I hadn’t even met before?!”
“No, no, no, don’t be like that!” He seems more aggressive now, “It wasn’t a fucking date, okay? We’re friends.”
“Friends? Because she’s just so funny, and you’re fighting in your trailer, and you’re sat next to her, and you’re doing everything with her?”
“I’m sat next to her?” He half-laughs, “So you’re noting down where I sit now?”
“But it’s not just that, is it, Drew? I haven’t seen you in weeks and you didn’t even care! It could’ve been anyone walking through the door and you’d have had the same reaction! It’s like I was fucking interrupting!” You are waving your arms around as you speak, the way Drew knew you only did when you were getting angrier.
“You weren’t fucking interrupting,” He shakes his head, “But if you don’t trust me in that then maybe this is more of an issue than just Emily. What else, (Y/N)?”
You look at him there, his features darkened by the lack of light in your bedroom. He’s more toned than ever for this role, the muscles of his abs dipping in and out of his stomach and casting small shadows over his torso, his arms larger and his shoulders broader. If you looked for long enough, it felt like he was completely different. But his eyes were still yours, in the way they creased when you made him laugh, and the way his dimples hooked either side of his lips when he saw you happy. But this time it felt tainted, your mind overloading with thoughts of him giving the same eyes, the same smile, the same dimples to her.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Drew,” You whisper the words, uncertain of how they’ll sit in the air between you.
“What does that mean?” He shakes his head, the fury in him settling down into worry.
You’re silent, complete silence between the two of you.
“Let’s just go to bed, okay? We’re just tired,” Drew states, convincing himself along with you, “We’re not thinking straight, this isn’t us. Let’s just go to sleep, and we’ll wake up, and we’ll be fine, okay?”
You don’t reply.
“I’m sorry for raising my voice, okay?”
“Okay,” You croak out, your eyes threatening to spill unforgiving tears.
He takes a deep breath and gets back into bed, pulling down the sheets on your side. You follow suit, climbing in beside him and pulling the sheets high up over you as if a shield from the argument that still lingered in the air. Drew dips an arm beneath your back and pulls you into him, another piece of normality he seemed reluctant to give up. His body is warm but it feels too warm beneath your skin, burning into you just a little. His chest rises and falls but it’s not in the same rhythm, his heart slowing down as yours still felt like it was racing.
Eventually, you’re sure that he has fallen asleep, and you stay awake for far too much time after, your eyes staring at the closed curtains on the other side of the room, willing for the light to come through.
~~~
The following morning, you’re awake before he is, though you’re sure that you hadn’t had more than a couple of hours sleep the night before.
It’s cold in the apartment, like an air of the inevitable had settled over everything that the two of you had. When Drew wakes up, you’re sat with your feet and knees tucked up to you on the sofa, your hands around yourself.
“Morning,” He says, his voice still sleepy and thick, joggers hanging low on his hips, forcing the V-line of his torso to poke out.
You look up and offer him a small smile, the biggest that your lack of energy can muster.
“Did you sleep okay?”
He regrets the question almost as soon as it is said, as if he’d just asked you the worst thing possible in the moment. Instead, he walks over the short distance to you and sits down, close to you on the sofa like he wants to draw you into him.
“Listen, (Y/N),” He begins, “I know things aren’t ideal. We’re both busy, we’re working in different places, different hours, and it’s not going to end any time soon. But we can make this work, okay? We can change things. I’m going to tell you everything, I’m not going to lie to you, I’ll make sure I have more days off and I can come and visit you, and we can facetime more instead of just calling,” He pauses to take a breath, “We can fight for this (Y/N).”
“I don’t know how much longer I can just keep fighting, Drew,” Your voice is croaky, threatening to break.
“But this is us, baby, we can’t lose this,” He sits himself closer to you, though avoiding contact like he is afraid you’ll shatter in front of his eyes.
“Drew, listen,” You let yourself breathe for a moment, “This has worked for us, it has. We’ve always made it work. But, right now, it doesn’t feel like that anymore. We’re in different places, and this time it was only weeks, next time it might be a couple of months. You’ll go on press for the film, I’ll be here. I don’t know how much we can keep doing that.”
“We can try, can’t we?”
“I’ve never seen you with anyone and felt the way I did yesterday, I saw you with Emily and I felt like a completely different person, like I was this jealous and overthinking version of myself, and I don’t want to be that. I don’t want to see you after weeks and just argue with you,” You’re speaking through tears that you are fighting back, “This isn’t us, you said it last night. But if we stay together now, this is what we’re going to be, and I don’t want you to be someone I end up hating.”
Drew’s silent, staring at you like he’s hoping he’ll wake up from a nightmare.
“So I think we need to break up,” You choke through the words, though they feel cold as they leave your lips.
“(Y/N) please,” He whispers, tears spilling over his eyelashes.
“I can’t fight for this anymore Drew,” You shake your head and your tears fall too now, staining your cheeks as they do.
He moves forward and grips your hands, pulling them into the middle of his larger palms and bringing them to his lips. You drop your head forward and press your forehead to his. His tears drop down and mix with yours over your tangle of hands, neither of you wanting to move as if moving would solidify what had just been finalised already.
“I’m never not going to love you, (Y/N).”
You nod against his chest, “Then you’ll go, and I’ll stay, and we’ll find our way back.”
(((Adding a normal people reference so that you don’t all hate me for breaking your hearts xoxo)))
#Drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey one shot#drew starkey drabble#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#outerbanks#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks one shot#outerbanks drabble#outerbanks blurb#drew starkey angst#outerbanks angst#drew starkey request#Outerbanks request#Requests
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How would Beau comfort reader who’s gotten home from work and is feeling overwhelmed and sooky? I’m in need of comfort my the cutie patootie pls and thank you beloved 🫶🥺
Hello, my love!
I know it's been a while since you requested this @chernayawidow, but I’m so sorry you’re feeling down. It’s my pleasure to fulfill this prompt for you! 😘💞
AN: This is sort of a sequel to “Didn’t Mean to Stay,” but can be read as a stand-alone.
Word Count: 3,000 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, lots of hurt/comfort, fluff, and feels.
Imagine: Beau gives you the support you need.
You heaved a sigh while climbing up the short flight of stairs to your apartment. Why the hell you decided to live on the second floor, you had no idea…
Okay, mainly for the safety aspect of being a single woman living alone, but at least for the past year, you hadn’t been all that single (or alone, for that matter).
Seeing Beau’s truck in the parking lot reminded you that your boyfriend was already home from work. It was rare that you got here after him, but you perked up a little.
I hope he got something for dinner. Your stomach began to rumble at even the first stray thought of food. After the ridiculous day you’d had, you’d happily eat your weight in just about anything.
A hearty sandwich, Chinese lo mien, a whopping burger with fries…hell, you’d eat a whole damn bag of pizza rolls. As long as it was hot and you didn’t have to cook it.
Once you managed to insert your key and unlock the apartment, immediately there was too much sound coming from the living room. Guns and blasting and whoops and hollers. It all grated on your ears and your frayed psyche.
You grimaced as you locked the door behind you.
“Are we being invaded?!” you called.
Mercifully, the cacophony ceased as you walked into the living room and found your boyfriend with a sheepish smile. On the TV was an old western classic, The Magnificent Seven.
Typical, you thought. Your Texan cowboy loved his westerns.
“Sorry. Too loud?” he asked.
“Just a touch,” you replied.
“Well, I’m glad you're home.” Beau nodded at the TV. “Was gonna ask you what your Netflix password is.”
“What, don’t tell me you settled for 1960s cowboys?” you quipped.
You dumped your purse on the coffee table and sunk onto the couch next to him. Beau slid an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer. You obliged by shucking off your shoes and resting against him, with your head on his shoulder. You let out a long sigh.
“Well, that was my fallback plan. See, damn Netflix booted me out and I’m really gearing up for that new season of Cake or Cake,” Beau said, with a somewhat childish smile that almost succeeded in tugging your lips upwards as well. Your brows drew together.
“Cake or…oh my God. You mean Is It Cake?” you asked. You nearly slapped yourself with your own hand as it came up to cover your eyes. Your shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“Ah, yeah. That one.” Beau grinned.
“I just can’t figure out how I keep guessing so wrong," he continued. "It looks like a hat. It should be a hat. How the hell is it actually cake? These guys are just so damn talented, I’ll tell ya. I mean, I’ve eaten my fair share of quality cake, but I ain’t never eaten a hat cake…though that does sound good to me, now that I think about it. Heh, I could finally say, ‘if that ain’t real, I’ll eat my own hat.’ And I’d actually be able to take a bite.”
Now, normally you found boyfriend’s diatribes incredibly endearing. Beau was a talker, and you appreciated having him with you at social gatherings. Not only was he great at connecting with people (something you very much admired), but the man was damn good at filling a silence.
Today, however, he was feeding the headache pulsing behind your eyes. You loved him dearly. Yet you were tempted to dig your nails into your own arm just to stop yourself from snapping at him to please, stop talking.
“Speakin’ of food, that reminds me. My stomach’s damn near ready to eat itself.” He eyed you. “What’s for dinner, baby?”
Your hand slid from your face and slapped onto your leg. Your head slowly turned to him.
“I don’t know, Beau. What’d you cook?” you said tartly.
It was an effort, considering how comfortable you were while tucked against him, but you moved his arm off your hip and lifted your heavy-feeling body off the couch. Shaking your head, you trudged a path over to your room.
You didn’t see it, but Beau frowned. Though you heard him follow after you. You did your best to go about your business, unbuttoning your pants and starting on your blouse. You were just so damn tired, and probably still anxious. Even your hands were trembling and fumbling with the buttons.
Still, you sensed him coming closer, saw his sock-covered feet out of the corner of your eye. The rest of him was comfortably dressed in sweatpants and a wool sweater you bought for him last month; he was getting better, but still acclimating to Montana winters.
“You’ve been here all this time,” you grumbled. “You see how late I’m coming in, and you don’t think, hey, my girl’s gonna be tired. Why don’t I figure out how to work the stove so she doesn’t have to worry about feeding my six-foot-ass, bottomless pit—”
Beau’s hands stilled yours, and he took over unbuttoning your blouse to help you. He bent his head enough to catch your eyes, smiling a little at your grumpy face.
“All right, all right. I see your point,” he said. “You had a bitch of day, huh?”
“The longest of my damn life,” you said. The stress of each moment played behind your eyes. So much that they stung with unshed tears when you raised your gaze to meet his.
Beau’s brows furrowed in sympathy. He paused in what he was doing to stroke your cheek and press a tender kiss to your forehead.
“And I wanna hear about it, but first, you go take a nice long shower,” he said. “What do you feel like eating?”
“Food,” you said petulantly. But he was being too sweet for you to be all that annoyed with him. A reluctant smile was growing across your lips. Beau smirked.
“You in the mood for Italian? Chinese? Maybe feeling a little adventurous and wanna try that Greek place down the street?” he suggested. “I think they deliver.”
By now he’d worked your blouse open. His hands were finding their way along the curve of your waist, smoothly across your skin, then meeting at the small of your back. He pressed the heel of one hand there, where he knew your shitty desk chair often made you ache.
You gripped his strong arms for support and leaned into him. You let out a sigh and rested your cheek against his chest, where he dropped another kiss on the top of your head.
“Greek sounds good, actually,” you confessed.
“Mmm, hell yeah. You want chicken, steak, or lamb on your gyro?” he asked. You felt the reverberation of his hum, and it was weirdly soothing. Though his question reminded you of one of your favorite movies that you too often quoted to him: My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
“What you mean he don’t eat no meat?” you said with a giggle. Beau’s lips moved to your forehead, and you felt the shape of his smile.
“It’s okay, I make lamb,” you both said together.
He chuckled and held you a bit tighter, secure and comforting. “All right. Lamb it is…you think they got cake on the menu?”
When you laughed, it was muffled by his sweater.
After a hot shower, good food, and three episodes of Is It Cake later, you were falling asleep on your corner of the couch.
All through dinner, Beau had listened to you vent about your day. About the problems your coworkers had hoisted on you to solve in the midst of a massive project you were already tackling. How your boss then blamed you for not coming to her first before you overloaded yourself, and how you’d very seriously contemplated going to HR before you figured just dealing with it would cause you less grief in the end.
Your boyfriend listened and gave his two cents, both supportive and fair. That was another thing you liked about him; he was always fair.
Now, he roused you out of your drowsy state when his arms wrapped around your frame and lifted you up.
You whined in protest. “Whaaat? Don’t move me.”
“Nope, you’re goin’ to bed,” he said, in his sheriff’s voice that boded no argument. You grumbled, but you still snuggled closer to his chest and pressed your sleepy face into his neck.
Smirking, he walked you into the bedroom and laid you down on your side of the bed. He came to your place often enough that he now had his own side, complete with his own nightstand and a couple of drawers of your dresser, even a bit of closet space.
You really should’ve just told him to move the hell in already, but you weren’t like Beau. He was a man of action. He processed things quickly and made decisions just as fast. His job demanded him to be that way.
You tended to drag your feet. You also tended to worry, and weigh pros and cons, and you were cautious by nature. Even dating this man had been a slow process, for which he’d been very patient with you. (And you with him, especially in the beginning as he learned to open up to you.)
The evidence was plain to see, as he raised the blankets and helped you roll underneath them. You just took him by surprise when you grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him down with you.
“Hey!” he laughed. He had to brace himself against the mattress before he crushed you. His knees fell on either side of your hips while your arms twined around his neck.
“You’re a wily one, even half-asleep,” he remarked. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his soft brown hair.
“Like a rattlesnake in the tall grass,” you teased. In fairness, the two of you had gotten into watching David Attenborough's nature documentaries.
Beau’s brows raised, his smile deepening.
“Oh yeah? Better not mess around then,” he chuckled. “I might just get bit.”
You snorted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You leaned up until your lips were nearly brushing his. Beau’s eyes lowered to your face, taking in all the things that felt more like home than his little trailer near the woods.
Just before you would’ve closed the small breadth of distance, you veered away from his mouth and went for his neck instead. He even flinched at the tease of your teeth playfully biting him.
"You little vixen!" He laughed deeply as he unwound your arms from his neck. He pinned you down to the bed and pressed his hips down into yours over the sheets. But it was his claiming lips that stopped you from fighting back.
Your shoulders trembled with giggles that he swallowed up, kiss after kiss. Your eyes closed as he dragged the sheets down away from your body. His hands caressed you through your thin tank top, brushing over a hardened nipple with the back of his hand, then squeezing your breast through the fabric.
You sighed into his mouth. “I know I kind of started this, but I’m really tired, baby…”
“Who says you gotta do anything?” rumbled his rich voice.
A tremor of heat ran through you. Even with your eyes closed, your exhausted body responded to his touch. His lips drew a hot, wet path down your neck, all while his hands did sinfully good things, sliding under your tank top and gliding against your skin. You let him take it all the way off, followed by your pajama pants and cotton panties, though he paused to squeeze your ass in appreciation.
“Someone’s been doing squats,” he noted, grinning down at you.
“Nah, just an extra slice of that honey cake,” you retorted. Apparently, the Greeks liked honey on everything.
Beau’s head tilted. “Huh. Well, I do like me some cake.”
You laughed, then jolted with a yelp when he slapped a bare cheek.
But you couldn’t just lay idle when he started on his own clothes. You sat up and helped him raise the sweater up and over his shoulders, but he stopped you.
“I mean it. You just lie back and relax,” he said, giving you a charming grin. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes; he was just too damn good to you.
While he finished taking off the sweater, your hands drifted down to the waistband of his pants. You caressed the hardening length of him, earning a hiss and a groan from him.
“Can’t I just…” you tried.
With difficulty, Beau grabbed your wrist. He raised a brow at you and guided you back down.
“For once, I’m ‘a need you to listen to me,” he said, kissing your cheek and then the other side of your neck.
You breathed a laugh, but it caught on a moan as his fingers brushed through your wet folds. He made a sound of approval. And those nimble fingers gathered some of your wetness and began circling slowly over your clit.
You sucked in a breath and arched against him. You even whimpered a little as his free hand wound through your hair, giving him further access to your neck. He hummed against your skin and grazed his teeth under your ear.
“I gotcha, baby. Whenever you need it,” he said, low and steady. You gripped his arms for dear life as two of his fingers slipped deep inside you. You panted into his neck, rocked your hips mostly in time with his fingers as they twisted and pulsed around your tightening walls. His thumb rubbed against your throbbing clit.
“Please,” you whispered into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. “Want you inside me.”
“We’re gettin’ there,” Beau nodded. He was breathing harder too, just from anticipation. The sounds you were making, the way you were squeezing his hand from the inside had him painfully hard.
“Now,” you insisted. Your hands moved to grip his hair, and your lips met his in a devouring kiss.
Beau matched your passion with closed eyes and furrowed brows. He’d had a plan for you at the start of this, but what kind of man would he be if he didn’t abide by your wishes?
So he withdrew his fingers from your slick pussy, even though you uttered a shuddering breath. It took everything you had within you to remain still and resting against the pillows as you caught your breath. You wanted to wrestle down his sweatpants yourself and show your boyfriend how appreciative you could be.
But you also appreciated what he was trying to do. You watched him with tired, but still hungry eyes as he kicked off the pants and the boxer briefs and returned to you, bracing a forearm above your head after he spread your legs and raised up your knees.
He lowered himself between the warm cradle of your thighs and kissed down your chest, licked between the valley of your breasts.
You arched up again when his tongue found your nipple, swirling around it, and finally taking it between his teeth. His hips rolled against yours, making his cock press against your core teasingly.
“Beau, for the love of God,” you moaned.
He chuckled. “Maybe you oughta learn how to be patient.”
You grabbed his bearded face between both hands and raised him up to you. He noted your challenging brow, but also your smile.
“Maybe you shouldn’t tease the rattlesnake,” you replied.
Beau laughed and ducked his forehead against yours. “Okay, darlin’. I’m sorry.”
He nosed at your cheek, angling for a kiss. You tipped your head back and welcomed his lips, especially when his tongue slipped past to tangle with yours. His forearm was braced above your head, but his free hand left your hip to line himself up to your entrance.
Another shudder went through your body as he finally slid home inside you. The shape and feeling of his cock was familiar as it stretched your inner walls, and you caught his moan in your mouth.
Your legs wrapped around his hips and squeezed, forcing him in deeper. His eyes screwed shut as he lost focus for a moment. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the feeling of you, or the sound of your voice, or the way you trusted him, but still tried to give as much as you took.
He pulled out nearly all the way, slowly sliding back in so you’d feel every inch. You clenched on him as a tremble ran through your body.
You uttered a broken gasp of his name that spearheaded goosebumps across his skin. And his next movements were faster, though just as deep.
He followed the encouragements of your voice, especially when he shifted his hips at an angle he knew would make you writhe. His fingers stroking your already sensitive clit, in time with his last wild thrusts, had you threatening to rip out a chunk of his hair. Instead, you gasped in his ear and dug your fingers into his hips.
His own release followed yours shortly after; he could only resist you squeezing the life out of him from the inside out for so long. And you held him afterwards, even though he still had a trembling arm braced above you.
Your hands smoothed up and down his back, trailing lightly with your nails. His breath was hot, but not uncomfortable against your neck.
You felt absolutely boneless as your legs slid from his hips. He pulled out of you soon after, but your embrace kept him from moving very far. He rested on his side, and you turned towards him. You both knew you’d have to deal with the sheets and the cleanup, but not just yet.
You carded your fingers more soothingly through his hair and drew his face back to yours.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered. And you didn’t just mean in this bed. “I haven’t had that in a long time.”
Beau’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You don’t gotta thank me for that.”
“Yeah, I do,” you nodded. Your lips formed a tired smile before they pressed softly to his. “I love you.”
Beau took a moment to brush a sweaty strand of hair away from your face. He’d believed in second chances before he met you…just not for himself. Meeting you made him swear by them.
“Love you too,” he said.
And the warmth of that bone-deep knowledge was more satisfying than even the heftiest slice of cake.
AN: God, I love Beau. I miss Big Sky. 😭 But feel free to let me know what you think of this one! It's only my second time, but I really do love writing this guy. ❤️
And tell me...are you team cake 🍰 or team pie 🥧?
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my tummy has been in such turmoil today 😭😭 I had a mild case of the shits yesterday and this morning, but by lunch time I thought I was feeling better so I had a rich cheesy pizza and a beer at my local pub with some friends, which was a BIG mistake!
As soon as I got home, my tummy started rumbling and aching, I was feeling a little feverish, and I had a couple more bouts of the runs. I laid on the couch in the foetal position holding my poor crampy tummy, when I felt a little bit of stomach acid and pizza come back up with a burp. I realised that I all of a sudden felt very very queasy indeed…so I rushed back to the toilet and leant over the bowl. I was shaking with how sick and swollen my poor tummy was, and I was sweating, but my tummy was so hard that nothing would come up, so I just belched over the bowl and felt my stomach contents creep up my throat.
then, all of a sudden, just as I was about to give up and go back to the couch, a huge projectile wave of vomit just gushed out of me — I didn’t even have to gag, it came up so forcefully and splashed and splattered into the bowl. NOTHING id eaten since the night before, when I started having the shits, had properly digested — it was so chunky and watery at the same time, and I could clearly see all of the chunks of pizza and granola and the spinach and potatoes that I’d eaten over the past 24 hours. My tummy clenched and another massive wave came up, this one less liquidy and with even more swirling chunks of cheesy pizza. Before I could even properly breathe, yet another wave came, and it was so forceful that bits of tomato and spinach splattered all over me and the wall too.
ever since then, I have NOT been well. I’ve had the runs again, and I’ve been having to sit on the toilet whilst I vom my poor rotting, poisoned stomach contents out into a bucket, expelling everything in me from both ends. I’ve got such a bad fever and I feel so achey and dizzy too, and my tummy is so crampy and rumbly and queasy still. now I’m lying in bed heaving over a bucket again…somehow there is still something to get up!!
I just wish there was someone to take care of me whilst my poor tummy is so so sick…and to take care of my needs too 😉
-🌻
This response required the most patience and I’m so thankful because omg this is so so so so gooooooooooooddddddd
I’ve been fantasizing about lot about food and plant poisoning lately, and this is exactly what I picture happening to a hot and stuffed beloved after making sure they get a safe but sickly dose spread across their meals. Or going to the dirtiest greasiest sketchiest bars and watching them inevitably get food poisoning from one of them (but we never know which).
I bet that’s what happened to your poor belly. A dirty but delicious bite of greasy and undercooked bar food got your tummy twisted and sloppy. If only I could’ve cradled your swollen middle for you while you wrap your arms around a bucket, or toilet seat. Kissing your sweaty neck and shoulders while you heave, my hands on your belly to feel the cramps rush through you. Helping you clean yourself bashfully, begging your belly to stop being sick for long enough for a hot bath and a soapy, achy belly rub.
I’m hoping to answer more (maybe hopefully) in the next few days as I take some time off work. Maybe at least one or two more??? Prove I’m alive??? Oh dear….
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Season to Taste - 3/? WIP
Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.
PROLOGUE/ONE TWO
CHAPTER THREE
“No! You’re holding it wrong! Like this.”
Bradley adjusts his grip and watches Leandro demonstrate again before he gestures for Bradley to try again. This time Leandro hums in approval, or maybe less annoyance. Bradley’s still a little scared of him.
“Better. Slow. But better.”
He starts forming calluses on his hands from the knife work, although the dish washing doesn’t help initially, they form. Between the prep work and waiting on tables Leandro begins teaching him how to properly run a successful kitchen. He gets trusted with making the pizza dough, then actually creating pizzas for customers. Not even six months he’s opening a gift from Leandro for Christmas, a set of knives and his jaw drops.
“I can’t accept these…” he says, looking between Leandro and Silvia who both look bemused. And stubborn.
“Leonardo needs his blades. Also you blunt these ones now. Mine are safe again. And I’ll teach you how to sharpen them.”
… … …
They walk aimlessly and Bradley wonders if either of them have a direction in mind. People are packing up, having sold everything. He’s meant to be getting back and preparing for the afternoon filming segment, where he actually has to cook all the produce he purchased at the market this morning but he doesn’t want to just… leave. He knows Jake has to go with his sisters back to their family farm, but he has no idea which stall was theirs and Jake doesn’t seem in any rush to go and find them. He also shared with Jake that he’s in town for two more nights and had definitely noted the flare of interest in Jake’s eyes.
“So, I’ve been summoned. But… Have dinner with me?”
“Yeah?” Bradley asks, his smile slow as he turns to face Jake, because he was going to ask him the same thing.
“Yeah. Let me pick you up. Take you out. Show you the sights.”
Bradley is pretty sure he’s already seen the sights, but he wants Jake’s company so he just nods, holds out his phone and accepts Jake’s, puts his number into his contacts and snaps a quick selfie for the contact picture. Watches as Jake does the same, eyes looking at him rather than the phone and he’s going to remember that every time he sees the picture.
… … …
“Okay everyone, we’re on a time crunch. I have somewhere to be later so no place for fuck ups. Understood?”
“Yes chef.”
Even though it’s only him in front of the camera there are still two assistants and then the filming crew. There’s a lot more work that goes into filming a forty-minute segment then he ever thought and he’s more than happy that this is the last segment of their tour through the United States.
“Where do you have to be? There’s nothing on your schedule except dinner with the crew… We need to eat what you’re about to cook.”
“I got a better offer. I’m sure you’ll help ensure it all gets eaten.”
“I will. I’m never going to turn down food. But this better offer, when did this happen? Want to share?”
Violet, or Vi, is one of Leandro and Silvia’s nieces and he likes the fact that they can lapse into a variety of other languages when they want or need to take a conversation private, like right now. Bradley fishes his phone out of his pocket, opens up the contact with Jake’s photo and slides it across the table.
“His name’s Jake.”
“Hmm, I can see that,” Vi says, pointing to the contact name and Bradley scrunches up his face, a little embarrassed. “He’s hot. You bump into him this morning?”
“Yeah. Literally bumped into him. But, uh, we actually first met back in 2008 when he was in Italy…”
“Wait. Jake. Is this the guy you called your Cinderfella?”
The fact that she’s used English to say Cinderfella has him blushing, because the others are looking now and oh god, it’s a little mortifying. Fortunately she’s the only one here who knows the story, having been there at the family celebration about six weeks after his run-in with Jake.
“I did not!”
“Oh you so did. You had had like way too much of nana’s tiramisu and then you’d also been drinking nonna’s limoncello like she was never going to make it again, and you were getting all stupid about this guy… Who you just kissed, you didn’t even… Oh. You’re planning on not missing the opportunity this time huh?”
Her expression says everything, eyebrows seemingly taking on a life of their own and doing the worm across her forehead.
“He asked me to dinner. Picking me up at seven.”
“He’s taking you to dinner? Brave man…”
Bradley grins and bites his lip, doesn’t mention the fact that he’s pretty sure Jake has no idea that Bradley is maybe a little bit famous. Or a lot famous in the right circles. Probably going to become more famous after the TV show he’s currently filming comes out.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. So we’re on a schedule then.”
“We were already on a schedule,” Bradley tries to object.
“Yeah, but now we’re on a schedule that matters,” Vi states and Bradley blows out a breath, because okay. She has a point.
… … …
Jake knocks on the door to the house where he’s been staying for the last five days, chosen specifically for the kitchen amenities. The pool and rest of the house are also perfectly nice, but it’s the kitchen they film.
“Leo…”
“Jake. Hi.”
Then Jake is stepping in close and laying a kiss on him, quick and dry and Bradley follows his lips as he pulls back, not ready for the contact to end. But end it does and he takes in Jake’s appearance, dark jeans, a dark blue button-down shirt and cowboy boots. He was wearing a hat earlier and he briefly wonders where it’s gone. He clean shaven and he’s styled his hair, maybe why he’s forgone the hat and Bradley’s glad he’s put in some effort into his own appearance.
“Hi again… dinner and then we can come back here. You got this whole place to yourself?” Jake asks, and he can hear the incredulity in his voice.
“Uh, no. There’s like six bedrooms. I think everyone else is out by the pool drinking, if you want to meet them?”
“Nah. I don’t need to meet them. Want to take you away from all your worries…”
Bradley grins and grabs his wallet and phone, follows Jake out to his truck, lets Jake kiss him again over the gear shift before he throws the car into reverse and Bradley just lets himself relax by following his lead. Jake takes him to a night market, a collection of food trucks where he makes a beeline for one in particular, then proceeds to order for him, murmuring a trust me which makes Bradley wonder if he maybe does know who Bradley is. Despite it all Bradley finds himself endeared; he’s used to people trying to impress him, or thinking that Bradley will have opinions or knowledge and want to be in control of all the decisions when it comes to food. But he doesn’t, not when he’s not in his kitchen (or some other kitchen he’s meant to be in charge of) and having to ensure it runs smoothly. A food truck can do amazing things and Jake looks excited to share something with him. He’s gorgeous and Bradley’s a firm believer that sometimes the company can make food taste better.
“It’s going to take them fifteen or twenty minutes because of the queue. Want to walk a circuit?”
Bradley shrugs but then feels Jake’s fingers brush against his and yes, he is more on board with some hand holding and maybe making out while they wait for food to be made for them. It’s reminiscent of the morning, but the smells of a wide variety of cooking food make him feel more settled. There’s an almost party atmosphere, music playing off to one side, a growing crowd milling about and eating from the wide variety of trucks and using the long bench tables to sit and catch up with friends.
“So, you get everything done that you needed to get done this afternoon?”
“Yeah. Everyone is well fed and didn’t mind me leaving them to their celebrations,” Bradley states, because they were meant to have a sort-of wrap party to celebrate the end of filming. Except after two and a half months of each other’s company they’re all more than a little ready for their own beds and the company of other people. None of them had seemed to begrudge him leaving to have a date with a guy. “What about you, your sisters happy enough to let you go tonight?”
“They were pushing me out the door. Apparently, they think I’m incapable of making friends.”
“Friends?”
“Hmm.”
“Maybe a little more than friends?” Bradley asks, and he has no fucking clue what he’s doing. He lives in fucking New York and Jake is an active naval aviator and they’re on what is technically maybe a date. A first date considering their first two meetings were total chances and the second was only just this morning.
“Maybe.”
FOUR
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A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel
Chapter Five
Note - so I think this is my favourite chapter so I really hope you love this one 😌🩷 feedback would be very much appreciated
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 5.1k
Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst
Masterlist
As much as you loved being with Mason, you also loved your own space. Only Freya had ever really spent a significant amount of time in your flat and you mostly hung out at Masons house as it was bigger so you could keep your four walls as your own safe haven. How ever lately you were beginning to wonder what it might be like to have him in your space just like you were in his.
How nice it would be to see his toothbrush next to yours, his shower gel propped up on the side and his favourite mug in your cabinet so you could make him his coffee just as he liked it in the morning.
You’d had a long day at work, endless calls and meetings to the point where it had felt liked you’d barely done anything at all but you’d managed to blag yourself a day off tomorrow and the thought of waking up without an alarm made you happier than you ever thought possible.
You’d just sat down when you felt your phone start to ring, looking down to see a picture of Mason lighting up your screen and you felt your chest flutter at the sight of his goofy smile.
‘Hey, Mase. What’s up?’
‘Hello love. I’m just leaving training and I thought I’d check in. You alright?’
‘I’m okay, I just got in. You up to much tonight?’
‘Nah I was just about to head to the shop and get some snacks. I fancy some cookies but someone won’t make me them’ he teased and you couldn’t help but smile.
‘Well maybe if you ask nicely I might make you some now. I think I have everything’ you told him, your eyes flicking through your cupboards as you made your way into your kitchen. ‘I think I just need chocolate chips’
‘Well I still need to pop to the shop anyway so I can get those and bring them round if you want?’ he told you and you felt a little excitement roll through you at the thought of seeing him today as you didn’t have plans to see him until the weekend.
‘Oh, yeah okay then’ you smiled, thoughts of you and Mason making cookies and being all domestic making you blush and your brain was speaking for you before you could stop yourself. ‘Hey Mase? When you get here do you um… do you maybe wanna hang out for a bit? Maybe we can make them together? Only if you have time’
‘I’ve always got time for you’ he laughed ‘but yeah, if you’re sure?’
‘Yeah of course’
‘Okay cool. What about dinner? You eaten yet?’ He questioned and you could tell he was trying to play it cool about spending time together. You usually liked some notice and for things to be planned so the fact that this was so off the cuff was strange for the both of you.
‘No not yet, I’ve only just got back so I haven’t even thought about dinner yet’
‘I could grab us something while I’m there, how does pizza sound?’
‘Sounds perfect, thank you Mase’
‘I won’t be long, give me 20 minutes or so’ he told you and after a quick goodbye he was off.
You used the time before he got there to quickly get changed into something comfy and have a quick tidy up before getting out all the ingredients you needed and start to weigh them out. You were almost done when a knock on your door snapped you out of your trance.
‘Hey’ you smiled, opening your door to a red nosed and fluffy haired Mason.
‘Hey gorgeous’ he smiled, giving you a quick peck as he passed by. ‘You good?’
‘Yeah, thanks for all this’
‘That’s okay. Where do you want it all?’
‘Kitchens fine’ you told him, leading the way so you could unpack it together and get the pizza in the oven as you were both hungry.
‘You started without me?’ He questioned, head nudging over to some of the ingredients you’d already weighed out before he sent you a wink. ‘Shall we get going? What have I got to do?’
‘Well I was hoping I could get a proper kiss first’ you teased, suddenly becoming a little shy as you played with your fingers and he rolled his eyes at you with a smile before pulling you closer by your hips.
‘Needy girl’ he whispered before ducking his head to kiss you gently. You deepened it instantly, wanting to properly feel him after a few days without his touch and you let him back you against the wall behind you so he could trap you. You knew you loved kissing Mason, but right here right now made you realise how much you really loved kissing him. His body pressed firmly to yours as you gripped onto him for dear life, knowing you needed to take a breath soon but you couldn’t bare to part from him for even a second as he dipped his tongue into your mouth so he could lazily brush it against yours. He broke away eventually, lips pouty and eyes wide as he placed a few kisses across your cheeks before one final peck on your lips. ‘That better?’
You couldn’t speak, just nodding your head shyly as he slowly removed himself out of your grasp and made he way back into the kitchen.
‘So you gonna show me or what?’ He laughed, sending you a wink as you shook yourself out of the little daze he put you in before going to stand with him.
‘I’ve weighed it all out so you just need to put in what I tell you to’
‘Okay let me get ready’ he laughed, quickly whipping his hoodie off and you subconsciously bit your lip at the sight of his abs that we’re on show for a few seconds as his top got stuck to his hoodie. ‘Oi, eyes up here’ he laughed, tilting your chin up so you could look at him before he quickly kissed your nose. ‘You got an apron for me or anything?’
‘No sorry’
‘Should I take this off too then?’ He teased, gripping the neck of his plain white T-shirt and you shook your head whilst pulling it back down.
‘No way, or we really won’t get anything done. Just be careful and if you get dirty I’ll just wash it for you’ you told him before passing him the first few ingredients that he added to the bowl gently. ‘Now I need you to use those big arms and beat them together until it’s all fluffy’
‘Just sit back and be amazed’ he laughed, eyebrows raising before mixing everything together with a wooden spoon and you sat and watched with a gentle smile on your face as he pretended it was a hard workout for him. Once it looked good you told him what else to add and it wasn’t long before he had his dough together on the work surface.
‘Right, roll it up into a tube so I can put it in the fridge’
‘Now I’m no expert, but I thought these have to go in the oven?’ He asked, raising his eyebrow adorably and you couldn’t help but laugh at his confusion.
‘Eventually yes. But I like to let them set up in the fridge for a bit first. Gives us time to eat the pizza too’ you told him, pinching his bum as you walked passed him and sending him a cheeky wink as he looked at you in shock.
You were just checking the pizza through the window in the oven when you felt him brush up behind you, his hands snaking around your body until they made contact with your chest. You were shocked to say the least but after a quick squeeze he removed them to reveal his floury hand prints in your black T-shirt.
‘Mason’ you laughed, turning to face him but the the subtle bite of his lip let you know he was feeling as cheeky as you were. ‘What was that for?’
‘Just felt like it’ he winked, hands now gripping your bum to leave the same prints there and you pinched his sides playfully.
‘Stop that, you’re getting flour everywhere. Go find us something to watch, I’ll bring the pizza in’
‘I’ll take the drinks in’ he murmured, kissing your nose before going over to the fridge and you only just noticed he’d picked up a bottle of your favourite which made you smile as you took the pizza out of the oven.
Mason turned the tv on to some random channel, re runs of how I met your mother playing in the background as you sat next to him, your legs dangling over his lap as you rested yourself against him and you felt him relax into the cushions.
‘Can I tell you something that might sound a bit weird?’ He asked after a little while and you couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable he looked. ‘I know I haven’t spent a lot of time here, like this is basically my first time here really, but I feel strangely at home? Like sometimes my house feels a bit big for just me? But here it’s cozy and it’s like I can forget who I am and just be normal for a bit. Like I haven’t thought about football once since I’ve been here. I like being with you and feeling like I’m part of your world. Does that make sense?’
You felt your eyes prick as he quietly explained, knowing exactly what he meant as it felt like he’d clicked into your life and your space so seamlessly and you felt like home around him too. You quickly cupped his jaw, stroking his cheek before kissing him softly.
‘I feel the same’ you whispered. ‘Frey is the only person that’s ever really been here and I was a bit nervous about having you round after I’d asked but now you’re here I don’t want you to go’
‘I don’t want to either’ he chuckled lightly, pulling you to him so he could scatter your face with tiny kisses.
‘What are you doing tomorrow?’
‘Got training at like three I think, but nothing in the morning’
‘Will you stay then? I’ve not got work tomorrow and I promise I’ll make you breakfast’ you winked and you watched him blush at your proposal.
‘I guess I could. I’ve got my wash bag and some spare clothes in the car from training’
‘Would it be weird if I told you I got you some stuff in my food shop the other week?’ You laughed, covering your face out of embarrassment but he just held you tighter.
‘Like what?’ He teased, his lips in your hair as he couldn’t get to your face but you were still not able to tell him on the off chance he might think you’re a bit weird. ‘Come on, tell me. Or I’ll have to go have a look myself’ he laughed and as soon as he started to shuffle like he was about to get up you made sure he stayed down.
‘Fine. It’s nothing really I just got some of that shower gel you like and some deodorant but that was mainly because it had your face on it and I’m trying to bump your sales up’ you told him, referring to his Sure deal. ‘Oh and I got you a toothbrush’
‘You didn’t need to do all that’
‘I know but that first night I stayed at yours, you had everything I needed and I’m so used to being on my own I thought I better get some just in case you ever did want to stay’
‘Well thank you’ he whispered, bringing you in for a soft kiss that made your heart flutter. ‘I hate to ruin the mood but can we make the cookies now’
‘Come on then, you big baby’ you laughed, getting up and leading him back into the kitchen. ‘Now cause it’s in a roll we can can just cut them up. I’ll get the tray for you to put them on’ you told him, your hands trailing across his body as you walked passed and you felt him stiffen slightly at the contact, clearly not used to you being so touchy with him but there was something about him being in your space that meant you didn’t want to take your hands off of him.
‘How thick do I need to make them?’ He asked as you brushed up beside him before you ducked under his arm that was resting on the work surface so you could stand in front of him and cut one first to show him.
‘You’re being very cheeky’ he laughed, his hands finding your hips as he placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck before crossing his arms over your body so he could pull you into him.
‘Is that a problem?’ You giggled, shivering at the feel of his beard against your skin before he playfully nipped your ear.
‘Of course not’
‘Good, now cut the cookies’ you told him, turning in his arms to quickly peck his lips before leaving him to get on with it. Once all of his cookies were placed on the tray you popped them in the oven and started the timer on your phone.
‘How long do they take?’
‘About 12 minutes?’ You told him, walking over so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders. ‘You know, there’s a lot we could do in 12 minutes’
‘Oh is there?’ He laughed. ‘Like what?’
You smiled seductively at him, kissing along his jaw until your lips reached his ear so you could whisper to him.
‘The washing up’
He didn’t say anything, just pulled back so he could look at you, your favourite smile on his face as he stared down at you lovingly whilst shaking his head ever so slightly. You could feel yourself melting under his gaze, heart racing as he looked at you the way his was.
‘Better find me some gloves then’ he joked, squeezing your sides before you both quickly washed up and got everything away just in time for the timer to go off. You quickly set up the cooling rack to place them all on but you had to swat Masons hands away when he tried to take one causing him to pout at you adorably. ‘Hey, I want one’
‘If you wanna burn your mouth then be my guest. Just give them five minutes and they’ll be cool enough’
‘I wonder what we can do for five minutes’ he teased, pulling you to him before sitting you up on the counter. His hands were on your thighs as he stepped between them, yours reaching up to grab his shoulders as his lips found your neck and you moaned louder than you’d intended to as he sucked on your sweet spot.
‘Mase’ you breathed, tugging on his hair so he would look at you and you watched the way eyes darkened at the feel of it. ‘Kiss me’
He didn’t need telling twice, kissing you forcefully and pulling you even further against him. You couldn’t stop smiling as your hands were all over each other, hungry for the taste of each other and the feel of each others skin and you nearly lost it when he groaned into your mouth as you bit his lip, pulling away from you breathless.
‘I think we better stop before I get carried away’ he laughed, kissing your nose and tucking your hair behind your ear gently. You nodded in agreement, kissing his nose in return before reaching to the side of you to grab you both a cookie. His eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he took his first bite. ‘Fuck I love these’
‘Well you can make them yourself now you know how’
‘Nah I think I’ll still get you to make them’ he winked and you shook your head playfully. ‘It’s getting late, shall we start getting ready for bed?’ He asked quietly, and you nodded before he helped you get down. ‘I’m just gonna run down to my car and get my stuff’ he winked and in a few minutes he was back and you were leading him into the bathroom.
‘You can have the first shower, I’ve put your stuff in this draw’ you told him, opening the second drawer down in your cabinet to show him everything and your heart fluttered at his wide smile.
‘You are the cutest thing’ he laughed, cupping your jaw and kissing you gently. ‘Come shower with me’
You felt your whole body tingle at his words, the pair of you had never done this before and you were a tiny bit nervous but you agreed straight away. You’d barely been able to keep your hands off each other all night and the thought of getting to touch him properly made you knees weak.
‘Okay’ you whispered, letting him undress you before you jumped into the shower to get the water running. It wasn’t long before he joined you, and as much as you wanted to rake your eyes over his body, you kept them on his face. His eyes burning right back into yours before he quickly placed his shower gel on the rack next to yours and you couldn’t help but smile brightly at him.
‘C’mere’ he told you quietly, reaching out grab you by your waist and pull you into him so he could kiss you and your hands automatically reached up into his wet hair. He kept the kiss short, pulling back so he could grab his shower gel and pop some in your hands before putting yours in his so you could wash each other. The feeling of his abs rippling under your fingers made you clench your thighs together and you had to hold yourself back from kissing him or touching him anywhere inappropriate. You didn’t need to look directly at him to tell he was hard but you sat back and watched him rinse himself before he tugged you under with him.
His hands were all over you, brushing all the suds off to help rinse you but when he pushed you back against the wall and got down on his knees so he could reach a bit lower you didn’t stop him. Biting your lip as you carefully watched him spread your legs apart by your thighs a little bit before flattening his tongue right where you needed him.
You gasped at the contact, you hands finding his hair immediately as he licked away at you but it was only short lived. As soon as he knew you were getting into it he removed himself from you and stood up. Turning the shower off with a wink before making his way out.
You stood there in shock for a good few minutes, anger boiling inside of you but you knew you’d be able to get what you wanted, you just needed to be a bit firmer with him and show him who’s boss. Quickly drying yourself, you made you way out to find him. You didn’t bother getting dressed, just wrapped the towel around you before eventually finding him in your room, sat on the end of your bed in just his boxers whilst he was texting away on his phone but he placed it down as soon as you stood in front of him. Smiling up at you cheekily as he knew he was in for it.
‘Now Mason, that wasn’t very kind of you was it?’ You asked as he shook his head at you. A bright smile on his face that he tried to suppress by biting his lip but the blush that covered his cheeks and nose was giving him away. ‘You forget, we’re in my house right now so it’s my rules’ you told him seductively and he couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath as you dropped your towel to the floor so he could look over your naked body. ‘Lay down for me’
‘W-what?’
‘Did i stutter? Lay down’ you repeated, pushing on his shoulder lightly until his back was flush against the sheets with his legs off the edge. You quickly climbed up his body and placed your knees either side of his waist so you could hover over him, your hair hanging down and almost creating a protective bubble for the two of you as you propped yourself up on your elbows. ‘Now, im gonna take a seat on that pretty face of yours and you’re gonna finish what you started, deal?’
‘Okay’ he breathed, his eyes wide as he followed your every movement.
‘Good. And if you don’t make me cum then you don’t get to cum after’
‘But-��
‘No buts Mason’ you whispered against his jaw before you kissed it. ‘Be good for me, I know you can do it’
You didn’t give him time to respond, crawling up his body so you could hover over his face but by the way he was helping position you and the way he sat you on his mouth, you knew he was loving every second. In the past when you’d had casual flings or one night stands you were never one to be shy in the bedroom. You were never seeing these boys again and you knew what you wanted so you were more than happy to take a little bit of control. It hadn’t really been that way with Mason though, trapped under his spell from the word go and each time you’d been physical lately he’d had you exactly how he wanted you.
Something about being in your house with him though made your inner monster come out but from the way he was reacting he seemed to be in his element. You wondered to yourself why you didn’t try it sooner as he was a sucker for praise in general so this seemed like a natural carry on from that and you figured this might have to be a new thing with him to try with him more often.
‘That’s it, Mase’ you breathed, linking your fingers through his so he wasn’t tempted to touch himself. ‘Keep going, that feels so fucking good’ you told him, grinding down on him even more as he squeezed your fingers and moaned into you.
You’d been in this position many times before now, him seeming to want to have his face in between your thighs every chance he got so he knew how to get you where you needed to be pretty easily and now with the threat of not being able to cum unless you did, he was working extra hard to get you there.
‘Fuck, I-I’m close’ you breathed, unable to get another word out as your whole body tingled and your high coursed through you. You couldn’t help but laugh as he road you through it, eventually placing your hands on the bed in front of you and lifting your hips so he could slide out from underneath.
In the next second his hands were on your hips, dragging you back to the edge of the bed and you yelped in surprise at his forcefulness before laughing. His strength surprised you sometimes but you loved it when he pulled you around like it was nothing.
‘Good job, Masey. You ready for your reward’ you teased, shaking your bum at him and even though you couldn’t see his face you would of bet your life savings he was smiling and rolling his eyes at you.
You didn’t have a chance to say anything else, his hand was on your bum and he was thrusting himself in immediately causing you to grip the sheets and moan loudly as he didn’t give you a second to adjust. It wasn’t long before he was pulling you up by your waist so your back was flush to his chest, hands roaming your body until one was wrapped around your throat and the other was teasing your clit until your eyes were rolling back in your head.
‘How’s that, hmm? Am I still doing a good job baby?’ He breathed into your ear, his voice dripping in sarcasm as you tried to grab onto him in any way you could. He had you in a pretty strong grip and you knew you wouldn’t fall but the force he was pounding into you with was relentless and you didn’t know what to do. In the end you gripped onto one of his arms with one hand and buried your fingers in his hair with the other causing him to lean forward and start sucking your neck.
‘M-Mase, it’s too m-much’ you cried but he just shook his head into your neck.
‘No it’s not, you can take it’ he told you and even though you felt him ease up the tiniest bit it still was a lot and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. ‘You’re squeezing me so tight, I’m right with you yeah just cum for me’
It didn’t take much more, but the feeling of you letting go for the second time that night made him release just after you, moving his arms to your waist so he could keep you up while you both got your breath back before tapping you on the bum as he pulled out so you could run to the bathroom and get sorted. You didn’t have anything to change into so you quickly slipped your bathrobe on before cleaning your teeth and heading back to your room. Mason was just on his way out by the looks of things, back in just his boxers and he sent you a cheeky smile before dipping his head to kiss you lovingly.
‘I’m just gonna clean my teeth. Is it alright if I grab a water?’
‘Of course, there’s some bottles in the fridge. Can you get me one please?’
‘Sure, won’t be a sec’ he smiled and you used the time he was gone to quickly pull on some pjs and get under the covers to wait for him to come back. As soon as he did, you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks and the cheeky smile to which you raised your brow at him before he let out a chuckle. ‘Now am I seeing things or is there a picture of us on your fridge?’
You felt yourself blush immediately, knowing exactly what picture he meant. Right in between two pictures of you and Freya from various nights out was the picture you’d taken of the pair of you sat in his car as you munched your way through a McDonalds. You hid your grin and you face planted the pillows, laughing loudly as he slipped into bed besides you and reached over to place your bottle of water on your bedside table.
‘Come on, don’t get shy on me now’ he laughed whilst prying your hands away from you face and you looked up into his kind eyes knowing that everything was fine and he loved the fact you’d added him to your little collection. He dipped down to kiss you gently and you felt the butterflies erupt in your tummy as he stroked over your waist gently. ‘Can I ask you something?’ He whispered as he pulled away and you felt yourself go ridged about what he might say next.
‘Um yeah, okay’
‘Well at the end of every season we have this end of season dinner and we get to bring a date if we want. I normally go alone or with Chilly but all the other guys are bringing their girlfriends and if Chilly’s taking his then I want to take mine’ he winked and your eyes grew wide of the use of the term girlfriend. The pair of you hadn’t had the conversation about what you were even though you both basically knew but you watched his eyes go as wide as yours at the realisation of what he’d said. ‘Shit, sorry. That kind of slipped out. I’ve been referring to you as my girlfriend to people cause I didn’t know how else to say it I mean-‘
‘Mase it’s okay’ you laughed resting your hands on his shoulders and running you thumbs up and down his neck gently as if to comfort him. ‘Ive been referring to you as my boyfriend’ you told him sheepishly, your own face flushing as he smiled down at you.
‘Oh, well I guess solves that then’ he laughed before placing a loving kiss on your lips. ‘So will you come with me?’
The thought of a big fancy event with loads of people you didn’t know scared the living hell out of you but the hopefulness in his eyes softened you and you couldn’t help but nod your head and agree.
‘Is Sophia going? Maybe she can take me dress shopping’ you laughed and he smiled down at you before kissing you softly again.
‘Thank you, baby. This really means a lot to me’
‘Well, you do everything for me. It’s about time I pay that back’
‘You do a lot for me too’
‘I don’t think cookies are equal to everything you do’
‘But they’re delicious and that’s all that matters’ he laughed before you tugged him down with you, his head resting on your chest as you raked your fingers through his hair. ‘Can I tell you something before we go to sleep?’
‘Of course you can’
‘I thought it was really sexy earlier when you put me in my place and took control’
‘Oh yeah?’ You laughed, your face flushing as he ticketed your side gently and kissed your chest.
‘Mmhmm, I’ll have to be bad more often’
‘No you bloody won’t’ you laughed tapping his nose as he scrunched it up adorably.
‘Night girlfriend’ he winked
‘Night boyfriend’
Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @footiehoemcfc @mm-vii
#mason mount#mason mount fic#mason mount one shot#mason mount fluff#mason mount imagines#mason mount smut#mason mount blurb#mason mount fanfic#mason mount imagine#mason mount angst#mason mount fan fiction#mason mount fan fic#mason mount scenarios#mason mount series#mason mount story#mason mount x reader#mason mount x y/n#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#a mountain to climb series#footballer imagines#footballer imagine#footballer fan fiction
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Saul Silva x reader - just hold me
Hi,Thank you so much for all your stories :)Is it possible for you to write something with Saul who is hurt by Rosalind and his reader wife who takes care of him afterwards, please? - Anon💜
The past few months had been absolute hell not only for you but for Saul as well.
He was arrested, sat in a prison cell where you weren’t able to see him or talk to him to reassure him that everything would be okay, then he was on the run and he wasn’t able to contact you.
And when he finally did return to you, you thought things were beginning to go back to normal, beginning to look up.
But you notice how your husbands behaviour never changed, he kept his distance from you, and you didn’t see him much, he spoke to you sometimes but not often.
And you were worried about him.
So you decided to confront him about it, and you waited for him to come back so you could.
Sitting on the chair closest to the door, you half paid attention to whatever video was playing on your laptop as you kept an eye on the time.
He followed a routine, and if he kept that routine and if you were right, he should be walking through the door any second.
But the minute began to pass and there was no sign of him, and as if began ticking to nearly an hour later you started to grow worried.
Then the door opened.
“Hey.” You said.
“Sorry, I was busy with work, have you eaten if not we can order something.” He said.
You watched as he put his jacket away, setting his shoes next to yours beside the door as he made his way into the bedroom.
“(Y/N)?”
“Sorry, no. I’ve not had anything for dinner yet, do you want pizza or something else?”
“Pizza.”
You picked your food, and then handed the phone to him as he walked past so he could choose to whatever it was that he wanted.
You studied him carefully, your eyes changing colour as you used your magic to look at him carefully.
“Are you alright love?” You asked.
“Yes I’m fine, just tired.”
You nodded, getting up, walking over to your desk.
There was perks to being mind fairy and having a job as a scientist.
You could tell he was lying to you, and you had the exact elixir you needed to see if your hypothesis was correct.
You had your theories and thoughts about it over the past few days, but never wanted to put it in place since you didn’t like using magic or anything on him without his knowing.
But this time you had no choice.
Picking up the small bottle, you carefully walked around him, noting how he was carefully watching you until he couldn’t see you anymore.
Standing behind him, you opened the bottle and watched as the most poured out, surrounding him lightly, focusing mainly on his lungs.
“Saul what happened?”
“Nothing really, I did some training that was about it.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
You showed him the bottle and he stood up.
“You’re using your elixirs on me now?” He snapped slightly.
“I’m worried about you Saul, you’re not telling me anything anymore and I know something is going on. It detects traces of magic, I’m developing it for the hospital and police.”
Saul set the bottle down.
“So you tested it on me?”
“Please tell me what’s going on.” You begged lightly.
Saul slowly sat back down, and you walked over, sitting on the table in front of you.
“I… I can’t tell you…”
“Saul you have to…”
He shook his head and you sighed.
“That elixir detects magic that was used to harm people…”
He looked at you, and he took a deep breath as he began to tell you everything that had been happening while he held both your hands.
Everything he had been holding in came spilling out all in one go, everything he wanted to tell you but was too scared.
And you sat there carefully listening to him, never once cutting in it brushing him aside.
When he done, he was sat forward, resting his forehead on your hands, bouncing a leg up and down.
“Hey.. hey it’s okay. You’re okay…” you whispered.
Reaching up, you placed a hand in the back of his head.
“It’s alright..”
“What if she takes it too far…? What if she comes after you next…?”
You shook your head, pressing a kiss to the side of his.
“She’s not the only one who’s mastered other magic sweetheart, she wouldn’t stand a chance..”
“I can handle her hurting me… but not you..”
You sighed, placing your hand on his chin you titled his head towards you.
“I can make you forget it if you want me to Saul, I can block that memory out for you.”
“She’ll know…”
You gave him a small smile.
“She won’t, I promise. I’ll make it seem like you’ve still got that memory, but you won’t.”
“No… no I.. I just..”
He looked at you, and you could see genuine pain in his eyes.
“Just hold m?”
Getting up, you stepped on the sofa and sat yourself behind him, wrapping both your arms tightly around him as he leant back.
“Of course.”
You ran your thumb along the back of his hand, he he sat there trying ti get over the events from the day
#fate the winx saga#fate the winx saga x you#fate the winx saga imagine#fate the winx saga x reader#Saul silva#Saul silva x reader#Saul silva x you#saul silva imagine
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Go With Your Gut
Description: Written purely to fulfill my fantasy of Arthur getting the rare opportunity to sit down to a proper meal. Also I KNOW in my heart Marie wouldn’t have let him leave without pulling out the special granny move “tasty homemade food.”
Fandom: Malevolent (Podcast)
Characters: Arthur Lester, John Doe, Marie Pilon
CW: Hunger, wounds and scars mentioned, non-nsfw nudity, descriptions of a malnourished body, descriptions of neglecting one’s needs.
Canon compliant: Takes place a few hours after Chapter 39 and before Arthur leaves for Red Hook with Noel.
Word Count: 3.1k
“She’s staring you down, Arthur. She knows you’re outnumbered. It’s your rook and bishop versus her queen, rook and knight. If we can back her into a corner we’ll have a way to get her in checkmate, but to do that…”
“…I’d have to stop defending my King.” Arthur murmured aloud as John outlined the stakes.
“…You’re going to have to make a move at some point, Parker.”
Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll go with my gut on this one then.” Arthur moved his bishop to take Marie’s knight, and after a moment’s grief, she simply moved her rook across the board.
“Checkmate.”
“What?” Arthur scanned the board, as if he had any way of seeing what she did.
John verified the move for him: “Oh. Her rook and queen have you Arthur, I think she was waiting for you to take her knight so she could move her rook.”
“Goddamn it.”
“Language, Parker.” Marie scolded, glancing over at the grandfather clock as it began to chime. Arthur counted: one, two, three, four.
“Four o’ clock already? Gracious, I best get to making dinner.” Marie said with a start, hoisting herself out of her seat as Arthur began to gather up the chess pieces. “You said your evening plans aren’t until later on, yes?”
“Not until a quarter to nine.”
“Well, in that case I’ll make enough for the both of us.” She insisted.
Arthur blinked, closing the embellished box the chess pieces went in and setting it back on the shelf. “Marie, there’s really no need for that, I couldn’t possibly impose on a meal-“ Marie’s face suddenly turned quite serious, and she cut him off by jabbing a finger into his chest. She hit bone.
“Something about you has irked me since the moment you set foot in my home, Parker…” Arthur held his breath. “You look as if you’ve gone far too long without a proper meal. Now I called off my dinner plans, but dinner still must be had. And as my houseguest and companion for the evening, I expect you to eat with me. Am I clear?” Arthur nodded, and Marie took her hand back after repeatedly jabbing it into his sternum. Arthur let out his breath and rubbed the sore spot she left.
“You ought to listen to your gut when it comes to food, not chess dear. I could hear your tummy rumbling during our game.” She noted before shuffling off towards the kitchen. Arthur flushed.
“Oh. My apologies, I-“
“Parker.” Arthur’s head swiveled towards the sound of her voice. “Do wash up before coming to the table.”
“Yes, Marie.” Arthur sighed, and as soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, he sunk back into his chair.
“She’s right, you know.” John chimed in suddenly, causing Arthur to chuckle.
“About which part? Needing a meal or needing a wash?”
“Both, I’m sure.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “But I know you haven’t eaten in quite some time. Your stomach was making a lot of noise.”
As if responding to John’s mention of it, Arthur’s stomach grumbled, and he winced as he slid his hand from his chest to rest idly on his belly.
“I was hoping you two were ignoring it…” He murmured sourly, as if his being hungry had been a secret he didn’t want to get out. “But I suppose I’ve been ignoring it enough my own. God, when did I last eat?”
John thought for a moment. “I think it must have been in Poughkeepsie. You stopped at that pizzeria.”
“Yes! Oh, that pizza was divine.” His stomach rumbled again under his palm, the talk of food stirring his appetite. “And I was planning to eat dinner on the train to the city, but then, the Butcher…”
“…Yes.” John ended the thought, not allowing it to go further than that. “That was two days ago, Arthur.”
“Was it really?” Arthur suddenly sat upright from his slouch. “With everything that happened, it feels like it’s been a week.”
“A very long week.” John agreed. “You really should try to eat more often, Arthur. I know you’ve moved on to Larson and The Order but, you’re still weak from The Pits.”
Arthur shuddered and stood up suddenly, starting towards the stairs.
“I’ve been trying to-”
“Left.”
Arthur turned, finding the railing and using it to support himself as he climbed up the steps.
“Thank you. As I was saying,” Arthur was already winded. “I’ve been trying to eat more often, but it feels like whenever we’re in the thick of something like this, it’s always the last thing on my mind.” Arthur paused for a moment at the top landing, but didn’t dare let himself linger for more than a moment before he shoved off into the bathroom. “Perhaps that’s why I enjoyed our time traveling so much, albeit brief.”
“What do you mean?” John questioned as Arthur shut the bathroom door and ran the shower, undoing his tie as he waited for the water to heat up.
“Well… I suppose it was just the first time since all this began where I had the chance to, pay attention to my needs.” Arthur’s voice echoed pleasantly off the bathroom tiles. He began unbuttoning his shirt, and John’s hand sprung to help him. “I’ve been fighting and running for months, and as soon as I wasn’t entirely consumed with fear or rage or grief, so after we left Addison, really… I had the chance to feel everything else. How hungry I was, how tired I was, how badly I wanted a shower.” He chuckled, testing a hand in the water before slipping his undergarments off and stepping under the stream.
“It just felt nice to be able to take care of myself.” Arthur began scrubbing vigorously at his skin with a bar of soap. “And I hope after all this business with the order is over I can… Return to some sort of normal routine.”
Arthur sighed with relief as he stepped under the warm water to wash the soap off, positively relishing the feeling. “And call me spoiled all you want, but I truly miss having my own bath.”
As Arthur lowered his head to wet his hair under the water, John took the opportunity to survey his body. John was responsible for every one of the wounds he could see; every single scar, the fresh bullet wound in his shoulder, the pinky he was missing. He was well aware of just how much Arthur had been hurt in their time together: He’d been there with him for all of it. It almost seemed like he couldn’t go a day without a brush with death, and all of those encounters had left a mark, be it physical or mental. But John was often guilty of overlooking just how much everything else had been hurting Arthur this entire time. His lack of sleep, proper hygiene, and perhaps most glaringly upon looking at his body: His lack of a proper diet.
Arthur was thin. That in and of itself wan’t new, Arthur had been thin since John first laid eyes on him, hence why he was so hesitant to believe the man actually had the capability to physically intimidate someone like he had earlier today. And as much as Arthur didn’t like thinking about it, the effect of three months of starvation was just as evident on his body as his scars. He was pale, and his paper-thin skin was stretched taut over bones and a frankly pathetic layer of muscle. His knees were knobby, his arms were twiggy, his stomach was nearly caved in. Sometimes John wondered how Arthur even had the energy to get through the hurdles they’d overcome, because he was consistently running on so little.
And that was John’s fault too.
“I’m… Sorry, Arthur.” Arthur tilted his head as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.
“Sorry for what?” Arthur asked, closing his eyes as he stuck his face in the water.
“For…” John sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. “Not properly taking your needs into account.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow as he reached out to shut the water off. “John, if you’re trying to apologize for how long it’s been since I’ve had a proper shower-“
“No, it’s not that, though you do complain about it a lot…” John rumbled. “I just… It’s hard for me to grasp, the constant attention you pay to things like hygiene and eating and sleeping-“
“Well it’s because I need to do all those things to survive, John.” Arthur said matter-of-factly, throwing a towel over his head and scrubbing his hair dry. “And it’s not exactly fun for me to, be without.”
“I know, I know.” John held his tongue. He wasn’t going to snap at Arthur right now. “I know it hurts you, but I don’t, know what you’re feeling exactly. I’ve never been hungry, or tired-“
“No need to brag about it.” Arthur grumbled as he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower to tame his hair.
“That’s not what I’m trying to say.” John huffed. “I know you bear the brunt of, the adversity we face. This is your body after all, and after millennia of never having to stop to sleep or eat or even consider the concept of bathing myself, I have trouble adjusting to, living life at a human pace. I know you have to stop to regain your energy but in that time, I have to stop too. And it can be… frustrating, because I still fail to conceptualize what being hungry or sleep-deprived is like, and therefore it is hard for me to grasp your need to stop for food or rest.” John was rambling. He had to get to his point before he inevitably dug himself some sort of hole. “What I’m trying to say is, I can see the toll it all takes on you. The starvation, the sleepless nights. You shouldn’t be as, deprived as you are, and it’s partly my fault. I know we’re in the middle of something far bigger than both of us right now, and we’re both focused on it. But I should still be making sure you’re, taking care of yourself. We shouldn’t both be neglecting what your body needs.”
Arthur blinked, and set his comb down on the edge of the sink. And, leaning forward, he looked into his own eyes in the mirror: Even though he was blind, it was as if he was looking directly at John, and John was staring right back at his face.
“When I was in college, I had a massive paper due in two days.” Not the response John had expected. “I hadn’t started it at all. It was a research paper, I needed sources, it had to be thirty pages: It was an absolute monster of an assignment and I had a weekend to do it. So, I buckled down. I locked myself in my room and only came out to make myself coffee. Getting up and making the coffee as opposed to the coffee itself is probably what kept me awake that entire time. Though I was still quite jittery…” Arthur chuckled. “Anyways, I stayed up the entire weekend to write that paper. I refused to eat, sleep or speak to anyone. My head stayed completely in the books. But I remember being so tired I kept falling asleep at my desk and smacking my head on the table, I could barely keep my eyes open for some of it and when I could, I just felt like I was in a haze… Every part of me just felt so, heavy. Everything was telling me to crawl into bed but I just didn’t let myself. I did find that being that hungry does have a way of keeping you awake, but only because it’s incredibly difficult to sleep on an empty stomach. When you’re that hungry, and doing work that requires all of your brainpower, it felt like whenever I stopped thinking about the task at hand I was thinking about food. And that’s to say nothing of how much my stomach was aching, or how dizzy I was whenever I stood up. Compared to what we’ve been through since it seems quite tame really… But, I do have a habit of pushing my needs to the wayside when something needs to get done. I get a sort of, tunnel vision, as you know.”
“I’m well aware.” John confirmed. “But, why did you tell me that story?”
“To help you better conceptualize what it’s like. All the human things you’re not used to.” Arthur paused. “And because you’re right. If I’m to get us both around we can’t both ignore my body. If it gives out, I think we’re just about screwed.”
John chuckled, relief flooding through him as he did so. Arthur wasn’t mad. “I’m glad you agree. I can’t say I envy your position… Did you finish your paper?”
“Yes, but as soon as I was done I ate the biggest breakfast I’d ever had and passed out for fourteen hours, completely missing the deadline to turn it in.”
John laughed, fully this time. It was loud and long and filled Arthur’s entire head. “Well, I think you’re long overdue for something to eat by now. Finish washing up for dinner.”
“Right, right.” Arthur said excitedly, scrambling to get his clothes back on. “I do promise it’s not all bad though. I understand your point of being frustrated with having to stop, hence my story.” Arthur slipped his belt on. John had helped him poke extra holes in it. “But, some of the best sleep is had after an especially tiring day; and they say hunger is the best seasoning. Taking care of oneself doesn’t just mean it needs to get done, it should also be enjoyed. Warm baths, proper meals, one cannot live on bread alone.”
“I understand. You really are spoiled.” John said pointedly. “Your tie is crooked.”
“Oh, shut up.” Arthur rolled his eyes and adjusted his tie. “You’re just jealous I’m about to enjoy a delicious meal and talk to someone other than you for awhile.”
“Perhaps.” John said flatly as Arthur exited the bathroom and made his way back down the steps. The smell of cooking had filled the entire downstairs, and in an instant, Arthur’s appetite roared to life like a rekindled fire. He was sure didn’t need to explain to John how hungry he was at the moment: He certainly heard his stomach grumbling.
“I hope you’re hungry, Parker.” Marie called from the dining room, where she was laying out table settings for the both of them. Arthur followed her voice into the room and nodded.
“You have no idea.” She didn’t really.
“Well then. I’ve made my roasted chicken, potatoes and greens. One of Albert’s favorites. Take a seat, it’ll be out of the oven in a moment.”
“You don’t need any help?” Arthur asked, polite as always.
“No no dear, I have it covered.” Marie waved him off as she disappeared back into the kitchen to retrieve the food.
“Sit down.” John demanded. “Take it easy while you can, Arthur.”
“Well now, you adapt quickly.” Arthur sat.
“We have a big night ahead. You deserve all the rest you can get.”
“If you insist. Y’know, I think I can get used to this kind of treatment…” Arthur snickered as he folded his napkin in his lap.
“Don’t push it.”
“Here we are.” Marie proclaimed as she set the serving dish in the center of the table. Arthur wished he could see it, because it certainly smelled good. John got the hint.
“Arthur, she’s brought out a heap of well-seasoned red potatoes mixed with roasted chicken and greens.” John then blanked, unsure of how to describe the food further than what it was. He didn’t know what it tasted like, or what the texture was like.
But his brief description seemed to be enough to stir Arthur into immediately reaching for the serving spoon as soon as Marie was sat down. She got to it before he did, and picked it up to whack his hand away.
“Ow!”
“We say grace in this household, Parker.”
“Oh… My apologies.” John’s hand rubbed Arthur’s, but quickly folded together and came to rest on the table as Marie bowed her head.
“Bless us oh Lord, for health and food, for love and friends, for everything thy goodness sends. Amen.”
“Amen.” Arthur muttered after a short pause, loosely making the sign of the cross and letting Marie take her serving first. He let John scoop a heaping serving onto his plate, and he dug in as soon as his fork was in his hand.
Arthur moaned around his first bite, going in for a second before he was even through chewing the first. Once he was a couple bites in and had the good sense to breathe, John spoke up.
“Describe it to me.”
“What?” Arthur whispered, taking another bite.
“Describe how it tastes. How it smells. I’m curious, you have two senses that I have no experience with, and I’d like to know how one goes about describing food.”
“But, I- Marie…”
“Yes?” Marie questioned from across the table, hearing her name. Arthur sighed.
“Marie.” He addressed her clearly, setting his fork down. “This food is… Outstanding. The chicken is tender and chewy, the potatoes are crispy and tasty on the outside, and soft on the inside… The greens are seasoned perfectly. All of it is, the garlic and herbs bring everything together wonderfully. I knew I was in for a treat as soon as I came downstairs and smelled this, savory medley…” Both John and Marie were listening to Arthur closely. His voice was quiet, sounding almost on the verge of breaking. Arthur managed to keep it steady. “This is truly one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time. Thank you so much, for having me.”
There was silence for a moment. Arthur heard Marie set her own fork down.
“She’s smiling, Arthur.”
“It’s a pleasure to be able to cook for someone who enjoys it so much.” Arthur smiled back. “I’ve found that good food can heal most woes, especially when paired with good company. So thank you Parker.”
“No really, thank you Marie, you have no idea how much I-“
“Clear your plate, Parker.” She interrupted before he could get carried away.
“Right.” He responded, looking back down and diving back into his food.
And for the first time, both Arthur and John enjoyed a good meal.
#hello malevolent fandom#never posted a fic on this blog but#I NEEDED to write Arthur experiencing something nice after 43#anyways hope you enjoy <3#malevolent#malevolent podcast#malevolent fanfic#arthur lester#john doe#marie pilon#potential spoilers up to part 39#my writing
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I Don't Need Details
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Part 6 of Little Soldier
You were straddling Bucky’s lap, your hands in his hair as you rocked against him. His arms held you close, not wanting to let you go. You started to kiss over his jaw. “I think we should move to my room.” You breathed.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He lifted you as he stood, chuckling as you let out a squeak before nipping his neck. “Shit, doll.” He groaned. This was a feeling he had missed more than he knew. The barely half eaten pizza sat forgotten on your coffee table, the show you had been watching nothing more than background noise. Not that either of you were listening to it.
Once in your room, he kicked the door shut, eager to be with you again.
Nat stared at you as you paced her room one night. Dom was having a sleepover with Wanda and Vision, so you’d surprised her by knocking on her door. That had been ten minutes ago. “As much as I love your company at nearly eleven at night, I’d love to know what the hell is going on even more.” She teased. “Or is your plan to make a permanent circle in my carpet?”
Swallowing, you looked at her. “I slept with him.” You blurted out, causing her eyebrows to shoot up. “It just happened! One minute we’re hanging out, eating pizza, and watching a show. The next we’re in my room and well…”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she managed to process that. “You slept with who? Steve?” That’s who her money was on.
“What is it with you and this Steve thing?!” He looked at her like she was insane. “I will never sleep with Steve. Ever. I’m more likely to sleep with you.” You shot back, rolling your eyes. “I mean Bucky.” You flopped face first on her bed. “We couldn’t agree on a damn cake for Dom, so he suggested taking a break. He ordered pizza and we put on some show to watch. Bam. We’re fucking in my bed.”
Nat stared at you in complete shock. “Okay, before we unpack all... that .. Please tell me that you used protection!” She hissed. “Don’t tell me you were so stupid!”
You winced. “Why would I have any?!” You countered. “I went out the next morning and got a plan B pill, though, Mom .” You sighed. “We’re good.”
“Wait, when did this happen?”
“Last week.” You muttered seconds before she hit you with a pillow. “I’ve been trying to process this! And next week we all fly out to Maine for Dom’s party. For an entire weekend. I thought I should get this out of my system before that. Don’t you agree?”
Nat ran a hand through her hair. “I never thought you’d come into my room talking about sleeping with your ex.” She shook her head. “I mean, isn’t it a thing that you don’t fuck your baby daddy?” You furrowed your brows and looked at her. “What? Is there something more going on now?”
You groaned at her question. “I don’t know what the hell is going on.” You teared up, frustrated. “I don’t know if he slept with me just because he could, if he wanted to because there’s still some feelings there, or what.” You told her.
“Well, are there feelings there for you? Do you still love Bucky?” She asked, her tone a bit more gentle this time.
While you were confiding in Nat, Bucky was confiding in Steve. “What’s going on, Buck?” Steve asked, worried about his friend. Was he changing his mind about fatherhood?
Bucky licked his lips. “I slept with her.” He explained. “We were hanging out, and next thing I know she’s on my lap, kissing me, her hands in my ha--”
“Whoa. I don’t need details.” Steve cut him off. “And who? We know a few women.” It didn’t occur to him that he meant you. Steve didn’t think that there was any way that would happen. Not after how hard it was for you to move on. Yet, he couldn’t see Nat sleeping with him, either. Or Wanda for obvious reasons.
“Y/N!” He leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, letting his head fall back. “Me and Y/N slept together.” He sighed. “Last week. I have no idea what this means. She hasn’t mentioned it since, and there’s been this awkward tension between us. What if she regrets it?!” He looked at Steve, clearly panicked. “What if this is too much and she’s changed her mind about wanting Dom knowing who I am?”
Steve stared at his friend, surprised. “For one, I highly doubt that she would do that.” He assured him. “Maybe she hasn’t mentioned it because you haven’t? Maybe she’s worried about the same things?” He suggested. “She may think that you regret it, Buck.”
“But I don’t.” He said easily. “I forgot how much I like being with her, Steve. It just felt right. And it wasn’t like we rushed to get dressed and do the walk of shame, either. I got to stay all night. I got to fall asleep with her on my chest like before.” Bucky went on, letting himself open up and be vulnerable with Steve. “I still love her, and I don’t think I ever stopped. I think I just pushed it down because she was gone.”
“Wow.” His face softened. “Do you think she’d go on a date with you? Maybe you should ask her out? See if you can start fresh.” While he’d remain protective of you and Dom no matter what happened, he also hoped that maybe his best friend could have the family he deserved. He hoped that you could raise your son with his father and have the life you one day pictured. It would be years late, but maybe that’s what the two of you needed to really know how much you loved each other. Did you still love him? He honestly couldn’t begin to guess.
You remained quiet for a moment. Did you? Were those feelings you worked so hard to get over still there? You knew that you loved watching Bucky and Dom together. You knew that you were thankful to have him back in your life. Nat watched you, wondering what was going on in your mind. “I don’t think that you should act on it if you do.” She said finally. “He hurt you way too badly before. I don’t want him to have that chance again.” Her tone was gentle, but it was clear she was very firm in her opinion.
“We’re going to tell Dom who he is either way, Nat.” You said softly. “We decided that when we started planning his party. We’re going to have a ‘family dinner’ the night we get there and come clean.” You went on. “That’s why Bucky has been spending so much time with Dom.”
“I know.” She reminded you. “You told me. Reminding me isn’t going to change how I feel about this. Am I glad that he’s stepped up? Yes. Do I think he deserves to be a father? No.”
Sitting up, you stared at her. “You don’t?” Bucky had been amazing with Dom! “Why not?”
She raised an eyebrow at you like it was a stupid question. “What happens if he wakes up six months from now and once again doesn’t want anything to do with being a father? What if he walks away from you two again, but this time Dom knows? Dom would know his father abandoned him- for a second time. That would kill him!” The thought of Dom being hurt like that made her upset.
You chewed on your lip. “I actually talked to Steve about that. When Bucky and I got back from the house. I told him what I was worried about. He says he can’t see Bucky doing that. I trust Steve, he knows Bucky better than most.”
“You thought you knew him before and look what happened.” Nat countered. “You thought he’d be excited for a family, and instead he didn’t want anything to do with it.” She didn’t want you to trust Bucky with your heart, and Dom’s, just for him to just break them. “Besides, he might have just slept with you because it’s sex. It might have been nothing more than that. Do you really want to go to him wanting more just for him to turn you down because it was nothing to him?”
“Gee. Thanks.” For some reason, her putting it like that hurt. It made you feel slightly used in her eyes. Getting up, you shook your head. “I’m gonna go take a hot shower and try to think this over.” Clearly coming to her wasn’t the good idea that you thought it was going to be.
Nat sighed. “Don’t do that. Don’t make me the bad guy because you two couldn’t keep your clothes on.” She watched you move towards the door.
You shot her a look before saying goodnight and walking out. While part of you understood where she was coming from, at the same time, part of you wanted to see what this meant. As you made your way to your room, you were on autopilot. Before you knew it, you were walking in your door, barely remembering much after leaving Nat’s. Your mind had been so damn sex-with-Bucky focused.
Blinking, you let out a breath and shut the door, hoping that a hot shower would help. You couldn’t avoid the man forever. You lived with him, and he was your son’s father. “At least I got plan B.” You muttered, not wanting to add a second kid to that equation. No one needed that. Or to explain to everyone else . You could only imagine that conversation ‘hey, we fucked and we’re having another baby together, but we’re not together…’. Not awkward at all.
Bucky left with Steve’s advice in mind. He was just worried that you wouldn’t want to go on a date because of the past. It wasn’t like he could suggest ‘starting over’. Having Dom made that pretty much impossible. “JARVIS, is Y/N awake?” He asked, simply standing in his kitchen. He was too awake to even attempt to try to sleep.
“She is currently showering, shall I alert her that you are asking for her?” JARVIS replied easily.
“Yeah, can you ask her if I can come by shortly?” They couldn’t let this go. The longer they went without talking about this, the more awkward things would become, and the harder this talk would be. He grabbed a bottle of water to sip while he waited for JARVIS to let him know if he could go see you.
It was another ten minutes before JARVIS spoke again. “She says as long as you bring some ice cream.”
Smiling to himself, he chuckled and nodded. “On my way.” He agreed.
You had been surprised when you stepped out of the shower, just to have JARVIS let you know that Bucky wanted to come by. Did he think that you’d sleep with him again? Did he want to tell you that it was a mistake? Your mind went to every possible scenario. Finally, you were dressed, your hair was brushed, and you were waiting for him while you sat on the couch. Hearing his knock, you took a deep breath. “Come in!” You called out.
Bucky walked in and held up the pint of ice cream. “I believe this was your request?” He teased you.
“Shush.” You blushed as he handed it over, along with a spoon. He sat on the other end of the couch and watched you open the container. “So, you wanted to see me?” You asked shyly.
“I thought we should talk about that night sooner rather than later.” He told you. “Don’t you?”
Taking a bite of the ice cream, you nodded. “I went to talk to Nat. That didn’t go well.” You admitted.
“Yeah, I went to talk to Stevie. I’m sure my conversation was better than yours.” He sighed. “Nat’s not my biggest fan.” It was old news and really didn’t bother him much anymore. They did what they had to for work, but that was about it. If there wasn’t a reason for them to be ‘nice’, they simply didn’t bother with the other.
“No, she’s not.” You agreed. “In her mind I shouldn’t even give you a chance to be a father. I don’t agree with her at all about that, I promise.” You assured him quickly. “She’s thinking you might wake up in six months and change your mind. Basically shot down me pointing out that Steve knows you and knows you wouldn’t do that. Said that I thought I knew you and I didn’t.” You looked down, not wanting to make him feel bad, but still wanting to be honest about the chat the two of you had. “Mentioned you might have just slept with me because it’s sex, that it wasn’t anything more.”
Bucky winced at that. “Thank you for believing in me.” He said softly. “I won’t ever change my mind. I want to be there for Dom.” His tone was firm, making you look at him. “I’ll always regret hurting you, and not being there for him for so long. I’ll spend the rest of my life being the father I should have been from day one.” He saw you tear up while giving him a small smile. “You didn’t know one part of me. Everything else you knew. You didn’t know that because I didn’t want you to. You loved me so completely. I didn’t want you knowing that all I saw when I looked in the mirror was a monster.” Hearing it all over stung. You’d never see him as that, so to know he did hurt. “Of course I liked the sex, but it wasn’t just that. I missed you.” He swallowed. “Not just that, either. The getting to hold you at night, too.” It was his turn to look down, looking shy. “Stevie said I should ask you on a date.”
You chewed on your lip, thinking. “Counter offer?” You started. “Maybe...maybe we can just hang out here for now?” You suggested. If you went on a date, it would be everywhere. You weren’t ready for that just yet. Especially the way Nat would act after she saw. He looked at you. “Maybe just kinda date in secret for now? Just to see if ‘it’s’ still there?” You were nervous about suggesting this. What if he thought you were ashamed?! “We can have dinners here with Dom, or if he’s with one of the others, just us? Watch movies together?”
His eyebrows shot up at that. “So, you’re not suggesting a single date? You want to get back together?”
Your stomach was in knots. “We could try.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “If we feel like it’ll really work, we can move past dating in secret and let other people know. If not, then we won’t have Nat on our assses.” You really didn’t want to make things worse between Nat and Bucky if things went south. “You can think about it if you want to.”
Leaning forward, he kissed you softly. “Yes.”
Tagging:
@ilovetaquitosmmmm @vicmc624 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @sebastians-love @differenttyphoonwerewolf
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