#jake has no time for your self loathing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

normspellsman · 2 years ago

Text

A Lesson in Pinky Promises

part one | part two (wip)

pairing: jake sully x daughter!reader

genre: angst to fluff & comfort (from jake to reader)

word count: 3.3k+

warning(s): mentions of reader being bullied for looks – reader has 5 fingers, kids being mean, physical + verbal harassment, reader being sad, reader feeling like she doesn’t fit in, jake calling reader babygirl (cuteness overload fr), mentions of self inflicted injuries, mentions of children hurting you, reader looks up to jake + feels unworthy of being the heir of the olo’eyktan title, jake being angry, cursing, both jake + reader crying, & reader having self-loathing thoughts / being mean to herself

request details: here!

taglist: @aonungsmate @optimisticblazetrash @dearstell @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @minkyungseokie @universal-s1ut @goodiesinthecloset21 @amortencjja @blushhpeachh @sweetirilly @liyahsocorro @arminsgfloll @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @bigdikzaddy @cheyehc @ihave500hubbiez

word bank: sempul — father, sempu — daddy (term of endearment), ‘evenge — girl, sa’nok — mother, eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, toruk — last shadow; large winged creature jake rode in the first film, syulang — flower, & ‘angtsìk — hammerhead titanothere

note: the reader is the eldest child of jake in this fic & is around 11-12 years old. set wayyy before the events of atwow. there will be a part 2 to this since someone requested something similar to this but w/ lo’ak & i couldn’t pass up the opportunity 🤭. be on the lookout for part 2 <3

You wished that you were more like your Father.

Your Father held this kind of confidence wherever he went. You guessed being Olo’eyktan would do that to you over time. He took every insult and objection to his rule with stride. You wanted to be like him one day, especially since you were the next in line for his position when he decided it was time for him to step down.

But it was hard. Really hard. The children around your age loved teasing you for your ten fingers and ten toes. They often pulled at your pinky and tried to pry it from your hand, giggling at how it looked and your reaction to it, hissing in pain as they basically almost dislocated the finger. They also reached out towards your hairy eyebrows, plucking at them to observe the strange hair further. Many had also called you demon or fake due to your mixed heritage. They loved making your life hell and took joy in hurting your feelings with their harsh words. Of course they never dared to do anything like that around your parents or siblings, deciding to do it whenever you were alone or training.

You felt insecure about your five fingers, often trying to hide it or make it look more like the other four fingered hands of your fellow acquaintances. You’ve injured yourself a couple of times trying to hide your pinky, bruising it or spraining it multiple times. You never meant to hurt yourself but it always happened whenever you did it. You just wished you looked more like the children your age than your Father.

You absolutely loved your Father and looked up to him so much. But it was hard looking like him when his past kind had caused so much pain and suffering to your Mothers people. It was a constant reminder that you had to work twice as hard as compared to your younger brother, Neteyam, to get the acceptance of The People. They always had their eyes on you, watching your every move, ready to criticize everything you did wrong. Nothing was ever good for them. Not good enough to live up to your Father, to be the next leader of your clan.

You never told your parents about how you felt or what the children your age did, dealing with it yourself. It wasn’t very good that you kept it to yourself but you felt like you had no choice. You didn’t want to worry your parents with what was happening, didn’t want to seem weak in front of them. You wanted to be strong like your Mother and Father, strong heart like those before you. Surely both of your parents experienced more traumatizing things throughout their lifetime than what you were going through. You could handle it yourself.

But, alas, you failed at having it handled.

Hours prior to where you were currently, crying as you cradled yourself with your knees to your chest, was probably one of the worst things you’ve experienced throughout your whole twelve years of life.

The regular group of bullies that teased and hurt you had taken it to the extreme, encircling you as they pushed you around and yelled insults at you, eventually grabbing at whatever body limb they could and punching it with as much strength they could muster. At the end, you were covered in bruises and bloody. You were pretty sure your right pinky was broken, it being stepped on by a kid you sure was named Keno.

You limped all the way to your secret hideout, delaying going home as much as you could. You had the plan of cleaning and patching yourself up with the limited supplies you had stashed away before going home late into the night. You were probably going to stay hidden for another hour or so, way past when you’re supposed to be home and were probably going to do that for the next couple of days before you healed completely. You didn’t need either of your parents to fret after your every move if they found out.

What you didn’t know was that your Father had seen you rush out into the thick foliage of the forest, calling out your name, which you didn’t hear. So, he followed you.

Jake had tried his best to stay quiet, expertly stepping over rogue twigs and sticks that were strewn across the forest floor. He kept his breathing steady as he urged forward, staying far enough behind you so that your enhanced senses couldn’t sense his presence but close enough to still see where you were going. He knew that he probably shouldn’t be following you, but his Father instincts were telling him to follow after you. There was something clawing at Jake that told him you were not okay.

Growing up, you told your Sempul everything. There was nothing that you kept from your Father and he felt his heart swell every time you ran up to him, bouncing with excitement as you hurriedly told him everything about your day or something new you just learned in training. He’d always scoop you up in his arms and tickle your belly before lending a listening ear to you, hanging on to every word you spoke. Jake missed the days where you would come to him and just talk. Recently, your visits had become few and far in between. Of course he acknowledged that you were growing older and needed to keep some things to yourself, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something else that was keeping you from reaching out to your Sempul. And he knew that following you to wherever the hell you were going was most likely going to reveal the reason why. At least, he hoped so. He just wanted to help you. You were his little girl and he’d do anything to make sure that you were safe and sound.

You stopped before a small clearing, discreetly checking over your shoulders in paranoia. You knew that no one had seen you rush out to the forest, but still, you needed to make sure of it before continuing on. Once you were satisfied that no one was around, you continued forth.

Jake wasn’t necessarily shocked to say the least when he saw where you were going. He was pretty sure that some kids came out here to do whatever the hell children did, but didn’t suspect you to be one of them. Lo’ak seemed to the one who would.

A few years back, when still dealing with the aftermath of the RDA’s equipment and all the shit they left behind, the clan had decided to leave alone some of their labs or established campsites, marking it as outskirts of the forest where children were not allowed to visit. And you had claimed the closest one to Home Tree. Well, it wasn’t completely yours but you were the one who frequented it the most so you found it suiting to call it your hideout.

The Olo’eyktan shook his head as he watched you open the metal door with a small grunt, walking inside while holding your side in a pained expression that Jake missed as your back faced towards him.

Every inch of your body ached. You were more than certain that multiple bruises covered your azure skin and that scratches from your bullies' pushes and nails littered its expanse. It sucked. Being treated this way by people who you were supposed to lead one day. Feeling like you weren’t enough to become clan leader when the Great Mother deemed it necessary. It all made you feel like perhaps Neteyam was more deserving of the title, albeit him being only eight years old. In your eyes, he was the perfect image of what a true Na’vi should be. Four fingers on each hand and foot, no eyebrows on his brow bones, and he practically oozed confidence and leadership whereas you, you were you. A five-fingered freak who will only ever be seen as outcast, alien, and a monster. Your entire existence was a reminder of what the sky people did to the natives of Pandora. Of what they stole from them. Of the lives they greedily took. How could you be a leader to people who only ever saw you as such? Who didn’t even want you there in the first place?

“Fuck!” You hissed, hot electric pain shooting up your entire body as you attempted to clean the wounds scattered across your skin. It didn’t help that you only had one working hand as well. It hurt too much to move your right hand, your pinky always wanting to follow its fellow fingers in whatever movement you did. So, you opted to just use your left for addressing your wounds, which was a much harder task than you thought.

Fucking pathetic, you thought, getting angry at yourself. You couldn’t take one little beating without crying and groaning in pain. What kind of future leader are you? You’re supposed to be strong. Take beatings in stride.

You were abruptly pulled from your self-loathing thoughts with a loud cough, making you freeze in your spot. As your eyes slowly traveled to your Fathers figure in the doorway of the metal infrastructure, you knew that you were fucked. Like, really fucked.

Anxiety exploded within your chest, causing you to gulp, trying to swallow it down so you didn’t seem weak in front of your seemingly impenetrable Father. He was everything you wanted to be. Everything you couldn’t be.

“What is this?” He asks, voice surprisingly calm. He hadn’t been able to properly see your figure when he followed you through the dark forest, not seeing the full extent of your injuries. He didn’t even know that you were injured.

“Uh, nothing, just…got done with sparring and needed to clean myself up,” you responded, eyes never meeting those of Jake’s. You knew better not to. For if you did, you’d spill everything that happened to you and how you felt. You could never lie to your Sempul, which is why you tended to avoid him whenever you got into another scuffle with the other children.

Jake puts his hands on his hips as he stands there, not believing your words. You knew he wouldn’t. Your Father was great at knowing whether or not you were telling the truth, the avoidance of his gaze being one of them. His shadow from the door seemed towering and all consuming as it nearly reached your dangling toes from where you sat atop of a metal table.

“Do not lie to me, ‘evenge,” he grumbled, face scrunched into an unreadable expression. “What happened? Why are you bleeding?” He continued, serious concern laced within his voice. Jake didn’t even need to take a handful of steps before he was in front of you, kneeling to match your height.

You refused to speak, eyes looking everywhere except for your Fathers face. You just couldn’t. You needed to be strong, strong heart at this moment. For if you didn’t, you’d feel as if you were too weak for your birthright.

The man in front of you sighed out, moving his head to try to catch your gaze, “Baby girl, please. Tell me what is wrong so Sempu can fix it,” he pleaded. He was so desperate to help you, you could hear it evident in his voice.

You shook your head as tears stung your eyes, tightly screwing them shut to prevent them from spilling out. But, your Father pleaded with you again.

“Please, baby girl. What happened? Why are you hurt?” He softly asked, tears pricking his own waterline as you refused to tell him anything. He felt like he did something wrong for you to not want to tell him what happened. Like he failed at being a Father. Was he not there enough for you? Did he say something to you that made you scared to open up to him? He racked his brain for a million things.

Hearing the crack of emotion within his voice is what persuaded you to break in front of your Father, tears continuously falling down your cheeks as they escaped from the corner of your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jake cooed, bringing you into his arms, now fully seated on the cold floor as he brought you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you, gently running a hand through your hair in hopes to calm you down. Sobs racked your body and Jake felt helpless. He wanted to help you so badly but he couldn’t do anything without knowing the reason you were upset. It broke him to see his little girl like this.

“It’s okay, princess. Whatever it is, I swear Sempu won’t be mad. I just want to make it better,” he whispered, gently and slowly rocking from side to side, something he did frequently when you were a toddler and had trouble falling asleep. It never failed to make you sleepy and passed out in his arms when you were smaller.

Eventually, you caved and told him everything. How mean the other kids are. How they like to pull and tug at your pinky. How they routinely pick at you and beat you. How they beat you an hour prior and probably severely hurt you. How they love calling you colorful names. How small and insignificant they made you feel. You told him how inadequate you felt as the heir to his title. How much of a freak you were and how the People deserve a true leader, someone like Neteyam. How it felt like the whole world was on your shoulders. You let it all out. And by the end, you ran out of tears to cry and your body stopped shaking, hiccups escaping past your lips as you laid there wrapped up in your Fathers arms.

Jake listened as you cried and sobbed out how you felt and what was going on. How you felt like you had to hide what was happening in order to seem strong and worthy of being a leader. How you wanted to be strong like him and Neytiri. How you felt like you needed to deal with all of this on your own in order to feel like you deserved the title of heir to the Olo’eyktan throne. The more you spoke, the more Jake felt his heart break into two. He felt awful for not noticing how you were struggling. He was your Dad, he was supposed to know when you weren’t feeling well and coke comforted you. But instead, he became too consumed with his duties to the clan and neglected you in the process.

“Oh, my little star, I am so sorry,” Jake utters, tears falling down his face as he finally got you to break and bare your troubled spirit to him. He felt saddened at how you felt but angry towards the children who relentlessly teased you about your differences.

“You are not a freak or a monster. You are my daughter. A product of your Sa’nok and I’s love. You are a part of me as you are your Mother. You are a result of a story that will forever be known by the people of Pandora. You are the new hope for the future. You are every part Na’vi as the rest of your siblings. You are the fruit of those who came before you and proof that you are meant to be here, to be the next leader of your people,” he gently said, tone firm and serious. He meant every word that he said.

“Your spirit is strong, so is your heart. Strong heart,” he added, making you pull away from the safety and comfort of his neck to face him. You’d never thought you’d ever hear those two words come from his mouth. You never thought you were worthy enough to bare those words on your shoulders like your Mother and Father did. You felt comforted by his words, validated by them.

“I need you to promise me that you will tell me the next time you ever feel this way again, baby girl,” he commented, bringing up one of his hands as he extended his last finger and balled the rest up into a fist, “Pinky swear it.”.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the action, not knowing what it meant or what you were supposed to do. “A what?” You questioned, voice hoarse from all the sobbing you did.

“A pinky promise,” Jake answered, a small smile on his face, “It’s something humans did back on Earth. They did it to make promises together and ensure that no one breaks it.”.

You nodded in understanding, bringing out your non-injured pinky and wrapping it around your Father’s, giggling as he slightly tugged your intertwined fingers to make sure that the promise you made him was stable and unbreakable.

“You cannot break this promise, ‘evenge, or there will be consequences,” Jake commented, tone mixed with playfulness and seriousness.

“What will happen if I break it, Sempu?” You asked, slight worry laced within your voice. Your Mother always warned you to stay away from tawtute things, or things that were foreign in general. So Jake introducing something human to you made you nervous. A million things ran through your head as to what could happen to you if you broke the promise you just made with your Father, temporarily distracting you from your chaotic thoughts.

Jake smirked, the tip of his fangs poking out from his lips and catching on the flesh of the bottom one. “If you break the greatest oath there is, the pinky promise, then the great toruk will come down and snatch you up!” He exclaimed, head going in between your neck and shoulder to blow raspberries into your jugular, causing you to shriek out a giggle.

Your feeble attempts at trying to push away your Father from your sensitive neck were all for nought, shrieky giggles escaping your lips as he continued his attack on your neck as he brought up his free hand to tickle the side of your stomach, his other one still intertwined with your pinky.

“Okay! Okay!” You panted, finally pushing your Father from your poor neck, “I won’t ever break our pinky promise!”.

Jake laughed at your reaction, smiling as he brought up your still connected pinkies, “Good, I’d hate to lose you to the mighty toruk.”.

You giggled out in response as well, wiggled your small finger from your Fathers much larger and stronger one, placing it back into your lap. You had a big smile on your face, matching the one of your Fathers as he lovingly gazed down at you.

The relaxed atmosphere didn’t last for long though, your face dropping once the painful throbbing in your body returned. You forgot about the events that happened hours prior, your Father being a great distraction. But nothing sweet lasts forever.

Jake seemed to catch onto your now saddened mood, frowning along with you. He hated seeing you in pain, whether that be physically or mentally. He hated it.

“Want me to help you clean up, syulang?” He softly asked, pushing some of your braids away from your dropped face, hooking two of his fingers underneath your chin so you looked up at him.

You only nodded in response, wrapping your arms around the back of your Fathers neck before placing your head on his shoulder, seeking his warmth as comfort. Your body was no longer running on adrenaline and all of your injuries seemed to hit you like an ‘angtsìk. Pain and sleepiness was the only thing you were able to feel in the moment, letting out a little yawn against your Fathers azure skin.

“Okay, baby girl,” he whispered, putting one of his hands behind your head as he began to sit up, “I got you. Just sleep, okay? Sempu’s got you.”.

And sleep you did. You soundly slept as Jake quietly and gently cleaned the blood and dirt off your skin, promising to deal with the children that did this to you. No one would hurt his little girl and get away with it. He’d personally see to it that they won’t.

#avatar #avatar imagine #atwow imagines #avatar x reader #avatar: the way of water #atwow #atwow x reader #atwow x you #angst #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x daughter #jake sully #jake sully imagine #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully x daughter reader #jake sully imagines

3K notes · View notes

ivystoryweaver · 8 months ago

Note

hi ivy, congrats on 1k! 💕🎉 i was wondering if u have any hc's on how the mk system would take care of u when ur sick? currently dealing w strep myself & it sucks. hope this is okay if ur still doing these & that u have good day! 🩷

You're Not Alone

@suresnips Once upon a time you were sick and I left you there, with no Moon Boys to comfort you... Jake is gonna have words with me. Thank you so much for the congratulations, you are so sweet! Long overdue, but I never leave an ask unanswered

Word Count: 700 Content: sick you, mentions of food, domestic life, slight mentions of Marc's past, not beta'd

Marc has been on his own for years, and even when he was young, he had to fend for himself.

He knows how to take care of himself, having shivered through fevers in the roughest neighborhoods and parts of the world - sometimes on the run.

Believe it or not, Marc is the one who really doesn't want you to feel alone when you're sick. He doesn't always know what to say or do (he does, actually, but that's his self-loathing talking), but he'll sit with you.

Marc doesn't like the doctor - he was raised hiding things from professionals and he's conditioned to think they don't actually care, but since he doesn't want you to feel alone, he will always make sure he's there to wait with you.

He's traveled all over. He's a survivor and he's picked up all kinds of useful knowledge from his journeys.

Marc knows lots of little tricks, like how peppermint or lavender oil can be diluted and rubbed on your feet to bring down fever. He also knows oils and tinctures for all kinds of symptoms, such tightness or spasms from coughing, or simply to help you rest.

Since Marc doesn't know what to say sometimes, he will want to touch you. But occasionally, having a fever means you do not want to be touched - or at least not held.

This is why both of you find it so soothing when he rubs a balm into your chest or oils onto your feet. His dark eyes lock onto yours and you can see straight to his soul

Marc is steady and calm when you're sick. He doesn't want you to feel that what is wrong with you is your fault - you really feel loved and supported, even when you have "just a cold."

Steven is a caring, observant person: cordial to those who dismiss him, professional to rude bosses, sympathetic to friends and mindful and proud of the places he occupies

He even talks to Gus and makes sure he has everything he needs.

So he is going to notice the second you're feeling off.

"Getting sick, aren't you, love?"

"What? No, I'm just tired."

By that evening, you're burning with a fever.

Steven ushers you to bed, letting you know he stopped by the store on the way home. He is prepared.

Steven knows which tea will soothe your throat or settle your stomach. He understands just the right amount of honey or lemon you need, and how long to steep the tea leaves.

Even if you don't prefer tea, he knows how to make it taste good enough to warm you up or settle you.

Steven is vegan so he knows how to substitute ingredients or some interesting places to order takeaway. He'll encourage you to steer away from foods that will only exacerbate your symptoms, like fried foods or too much dairy.

He loves to take care of you, dote on you, bring you trays of things, prop up your head with an extra pillow.

He'll place a washcloth over your forehead and cover you with an extra blanket while you suffer.

He'll read you to sleep if you like, but he will miss you so much while you're down and out.

He's an exuberant puppy when you're better.

Jake helps you get things done.

You're out of it for a few days or a week? All good - bills are paid (if you share them), laundry is done.

Don't feel like calling out of work or making doctor's appointments? Jake takes care of it. You're not to be bothered.

He's going to help you zone out.

He'll make you smile, play your favorite record, watch movies with you on the couch.

He's gonna sneak you junk food, tbh. Steven's teas and soups are so wonderful, but after a few days, there's just that one food you want because you're kinda feeling sorry for yourself?

That's Jake. Snacks and movies and lightening the mood.

And - it's Jake Lockley. He's definitely going to try to feel you up during a movie. Once your fever breaks anyway.

“But I look awful,” you halfheartedly protest.

"Never, mi amor. Just relax."

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#ivy replies #thanks for the ask!#📥 inbox #asks #📤 answered #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #oscar isaac characters #1000 follower celebration #1k celebration #holiday celebration #you're not alone fic

127 notes · View notes

pearlsinmyhair · 10 months ago

Note

please more x reader smut with jake or miles, im starving 😭😭

wrong.

a jake sully x fem!human!reader smut fic.

warnings: smut. pnv sex. cunnilingus. overstimulation/multiple orgasms. reader is in her early twenties. daddy kink. use of pet names. squirting. size difference. virgin reader. dilf!jake sully. possibly dark content, if you squint. no beta we die like neteyam (im sorry-).

words: 2.7k

a.n.: ask and ye shall receive! this has been in the cooker for a hot minute. @eddiemunsonguitar this is also for you.

Eywa, it was so wrong. Unbelievably so. So sinful that it made you burn with embarrassment and borderline self loathing every time you weren’t burning with desire.

Desire for a man old enough to be your damn father.

It was innocent enough at first. He was just so big, and caring, and funny. And as you got older, your mind started wandering away from a silly little crush to full blown fantasies. Fantasies of him coming into your room at night, grabbing onto you and having his way with you. Practically ripping off any clothes just to ravish you until you couldn’t so much as move the next day.

And at the center of all these fantasies were none other than Toruk Makto himself. Jake Sully.

How could you be blamed? The crop of scientists, as much as you loved them, hardly sufficed when it came to what you craved in a man. Besides, not one of them would even go near you in anyway other than platonic and parental; they had practically raised you.

You were isolated and horny, with no one and nothing to take your frustration out on. And the only one other than the scientists that regularly visited was the Olo’eyktan. Who never even really looked at you, frankly.

Then again, you didn’t see him up close and personal for the first eighteen years of your life; the first half of which was spent cowering in your room or behind tech, and the second half spent admiring from a distance.

Watching with greedy eyes how his abdomen flexed when he leaned over to study Norm’s tablet, or how his thighs tensed as he crouched, or how his fingers spread when he pointed to something.

You wanted to eat him. You wanted him to eat you.

It was only the night of your twentieth birthday and after one of the female scientists told you about na’vi mating traditions that you hatched your plan.

Reassured by her statements that na’vi didn’t stick to monogamy nearly as much as the typical human did, you put on the gifted tweng and matching top you got from Kiri and Tuk as a gift, strapped your exo pack over your face, and marched into high camp with your head held high.

Jake barely knew you when he first really saw you walking the perimeter of one of the huge fires in the caves of high camp. He knew of you, from Norm and Max and their off handed comments about the spoiled princess in their mix, but he’d never seen her.

‘Spoiled’ had always been a joke- you were a kid, and you had needs that weren’t always easy for them to provide. But they did their best.

His kids had mentioned you too; Kiri was especially fond of you (“Sometimes she’s the only one who really wants to listen to my thoughts. It’s refreshing.” Kiri had snapped one night not too long ago at dinner), and Tuk thought you made a great playmate. Lo’ak had considerably less to say, mostly because you didn’t come out of the Oxygen-Pods nearly as much as Spider did, and therefore you didn’t explore with them. Neteyam had escorted you to fetch a plant for Max’s research once, and claimed you were polite.

That was the extent that he knew.

And damn, he didn’t know shit if this is what you looked like. All long legs and coy smiles and soft giggles.

It was over the instant that you introduced yourself.

You both knew it.

ִ ࣪𖦹

“Fuck, Jake please-“ you whined, wiggling and bucking your hips in an attempt to get away from his flicking tongue. His massive hands held you in place, making your body sink into the mattress of your bed within your room. The poor thing creaked with each push of his hands and movement of your lower half, and you thanked Eywa that you had requested a private living space when you had turned eighteen. You don’t think you could face anyone with apologies for the noise of your late night escapades with the olo’eyktan.

“Hush… ‘m not done.” Jake mumbled into your folds, and you had to fight the urge to kick his chest as another shot of electricity made your whole body twitch.

Two orgasms and this man still wasn’t done. He had practically ripped off your panties as soon as he was through the door, picking you up and (gently) throwing you down on the bed. How long ago was that? An hour? Two? It felt like you were melting at this point, and the slurps of Jake’s mouth on your dripping pussy made you shiver with embarrassment and overstimulation.

“Y’know what to say if you’re done, yeah?” Jake asked, pulling back just enough to make sure his words were audible. Daring to look down, you were met with the sight of strings of your cum and his saliva clinging to his jaw, his lips nearly shimmering and parted as he watched you. He brought a breathing mask to his face as he waited, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh with his unoccupied hand.

You dropped your head and with a frustrated whine, and he slapped his palm against your leg. With a yelp, you gave him an audible affirmative, restating your safe-word. Satisfied, Jake licked a broad stripe from your fluttering hole to your clit, sucking the throbbing bud into his mouth and rolling it on one of his canines. You cried out, the rush of popping sparks and burning pleasure returning.

“Just one more, sweet thing. One more and i’ll give you what you want.” he cooed, nipping your labia and tonguing your entrance.

“Need it now, Jake. Can’t take it anymore.” you nearly wheezed, huffing as you felt the coil in your gut tighten. Something was different from before, tingling just below the hot waves of pleasure rolling through your body.

Tonight, after months of eating you out and finger fucking you, Jake had finally decided to let you take his dick. Only one problem with that. Itsie bitsie, really. Nothing serious.

Just that you were a virgin. And taking a dick over twice the size of a human’s was gonna practically rip you open.

So that’s what got you here, approaching your third goddamn orgasm so maybe, just maybe, your slick would make it easier for him to slide in.

Fuck, you weren’t gonna walk for a week, dick or not.

A flood of ecstasy overwhelmed you, and you felt some kind of tingling between your legs before you were slammed back, white clouding your vision as you cried out.

When you came to and looked down once more, you watched as Jake lapped at the juices adorning your thighs and lower belly, wiping some kind of liquid from his face.

“Y’squirted, baby girl.” he hummed as he kneeled over you, picking you up and adjusting you so that your head rested against your pillows and he could rest his knees on the mattress, situating himself between your thighs.

“Prideful skxawng.” you whispered back, only to be muffled by his mouth on yours as his hands found the backs of your knees.

He pulled back, looked down at you with worried eyes as his gaze traveled between your bodies back up to your face. “You’re sure you want this? It’s not gonna be easy, or painless.”

You shifted up onto your elbows, brushing his blunted nose with your own. “Since when did you decide to be my daddy?” you asked, voice low.

Jake’s reaction was predictably dominating; he hissed low in his throat, pushing his forehead down against yours so that your head landed back on the pillow. He rutted his hips forward, and you whimpered when his dick brushed your oversensitive clit.

“This isn’t time for jokes kid. Talk to me.” he growled, and you sobered quickly as he moved the head of his cock to your entrance, applying pressure so you felt some semblance of the reality of what was about to happen.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your hands to his face and pulled him down, trying not to think of just how much he had to crane his neck to lean closer. “Just… slow. If it doesn’t fit, then fine.” you tried, swallowing the lump in your throat as Jake nudged you again.

“Trust me, kid, it’ll fit. Stretched you to hell and back not too long ago.” he assured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Just relax.”

“Oh, and let’s not call me ‘kid’ when you’re about to fuck me, yeah?” you snipped, tightening your thighs around his waist.

Jake chucked, muttered a soft “brat.” into your ear that got you to laugh. While you were distracted, he pushed his hips forward and slid the first inch of his dick in.

You squealed, and Jake had to keep his hold on your thighs tight and you tried to move away. Your hands flew to his shoulders, clawing into his skin deep enough to draw blood.

It should have hurt- he should have noticed the stings of pain.

But all he could register was tight, warm walls wrapped around his dick with a vice so harsh he swore they were gonna snap it clean off.

With breaks and whispered praise from him, he gradually suck inch by inch of his think cock into you tight little cunt, until finally, fucking finally, he bottomed out.

Tight. Tight around his tongue, tight around his fingers, but fuck. This was on another level.

You were so good- such a good girl taking all of that length, swallowing every inch he gave you with a few tears and quiet whimpers. He leaned closer, making sure not to rock into you too soon, and kissed at the tears tracking down your face, before finally pressing his mouth to yours, swallowing your soft cries every time you’d accidentally shift your hips or he his.

“Damn, pretty girl. Gonna cut off my blood circulation.” he grunted into your shoulder, and he was rewarded with a breathy laugh from you. Experimentally, he ran a hand down between your bodies, before having to mentally convince himself not to burst at what he found.

Leaning up, he looked down at the bulge in your tummy, running a hand over it before looking to your eyes. He found you looking down with awe, wide eyed and dropped jaw at the bump.

Jake placed his palm over it, and pressed down.

The moan you let out was sinful, so desperate and pleased that he nearly rammed into you just out of instinct. But he reminded himself to take it slow as he pulled out, feeling the warmth of your pretty pussy leave him, before pushing back in.

Eywa, Jake was huge.

Of course you knew he would be- you’re not delusional. But damnit, it was almost too much. Your legs quivered with each slow thrust of Jake’s hips, and you buried your face into his shoulder to quell some of your noises. It hurt. Hurt more than anything you’d experienced before. You were quite sure Jake would leave a permanent space for himself inside of you with how you were stretching.

Jake stroked his thumb against your skin where his hand still cupped the back of your thighs, pressing your knees up near your shoulders to get more leverage. The cot gave another soft squeak at the shift in weight, and for a moment you and Jake laughed, finding humor in the absurdity of fucking you into a rickety mattress in a room that Jake couldn’t fully stand up in.

The bulge in your tummy was only a physical manifestation of what you felt: fucking full. You could have cum just at the sight of it there, and by the foggy look in Jake’s eyes, so could he.

“Jake-“ you whispered, though it came out as more of a punched-out wheeze. “Move.”

His eyes flicked to yours for a moment, checking for any hesitation. When he found none, he shifted back on the bed, pulling away. You could feel the emptiness he left behind, and you opened your mouth to protest.

Before you could utter a word, Jake’s hands shifted from your thighs to your hips, and promptly rammed his cock back into you.

You screamed, the rush of pleasure and twinge of pain making you throw your head back as your hands flew to his shoulders, grounding yourself as he repeated the motion. You could feel him, deep inside of you, pressing against your cervix, his tip threatening to push past the barrier and straight into your womb.

That should have scared you, but it only made you rock your hips up to meet Jake’s with each thrust, reveling in the slick slide of his dick against your walls.

“Fucking hell, baby-“ he all but hissed, pinning your legs up again. “Taking this dick so well.”

You whined in response, trying and failing to assemble some kind of sentence to give him. Fucked out and cock drunk from just a few thrusts. How pathetic a sight you were. But no matter how humiliated you would feel later, right now you were confronted will all consuming pleasure and fullness.

Jake was confronted with the view of tears leaking from your eyes and drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, whining and moaning weakly as he continued to pound into you. He was sure he wasn’t much better, anyway. Jesus, he thought maybe you’d loosen, only to be met with a tight clench of your tight little cunt around his cock when he hit your g-spot.

Everything was on fire. Your body, your mind, your pussy. Fuck, you needed to cum. You needed to fucking cum.

“Daddy-“ you whined, finally meeting Jake’s eyes as he bent over you, letting his nose brush yours.

“I know, baby girl. Go ahead and cum around daddy’s cock. Make him proud.” he grunted out, feeling his own release pool deep in his stomach as he tucked his face into the space between your shoulder and jaw.

His permission was all it took for something inside to finally snap, and you could feel yourself gush around Jake’s dick as your whole body trembled, thighs shaking even as Jake held them. After a few beats the pleasure turned into overstimulation, and your moaning became sobs, whimpering into Jake’s shoulder for him to cum already-

Jake shuffled closer to press himself as far in as he could as he felt the coil in his stomach tighten one last time, and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, tasting salt and iron as his release filled your core.

You barely even protested, your body jumping slightly under his at the pain, but otherwise you were limp in his arms. Jake pulled back to look at you, letting one of your legs go and bringing his hand to your cheek. “Hey…” he murmured softly, running his tongue over the dribble of blood from the bite mark marring your skin, waiting for you to come down.

“Hey…” you responded after a second, pushing weekly at his shoulder in an attempt to get him to stop prodding at the wound. Jake chuckled and shifted.

“Pulling out.” he warned you, before pulling himself out of you with a wet squelch. If you weren’t thoroughly fuck out, you would have blushed. But right now, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

Jake chuckled once more, curling next to you and cradling your body against his chest as you began to drift off. “Are you alright?” he asked, his tail curling around your thigh as his hand ran over your back.

“Mhm.” you managed, pressing a kiss to his pectoral as he hitched one of your legs around his waist. “Just gonna be sore in the morning.”

He hummed in agreement, glancing at the bruises on your hips and waist from his hands. Jake knew he should have felt bad for it, and yet his chest hummed with pride at the sight of the physical evidence of him on your body.

Mine.

He pressed a kiss to your head as your breathing evened out, feeling his own eyes grow heavy.

“We’ll worry ‘bout it in the morning, baby. Just rest.” he whispered.

And with an ache between your legs and dripping warmth in your core, you did just that, already drifting away into sleep as his body calmed against yours.

#— jake my beloved #jake sully x reader smut #dilf!jake sully #dilf jake sully x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar #jake sully #the way of water #avatar x reader #jake sully x reader

302 notes · View notes

gretavanlace · 1 year ago

Text

Sugar II (part 2)

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: language, angst, Josh is perfect, angst, also maybe some angst

I’m so happy that you are all enjoying Sugar 2.0 as much as I am! I’ve missed this little world so much and it just makes me smile to know that you missed it too ❤️

Curled up into a tight ball under hotel room sheets, your mascara smudges across and stains the bleach-white pillowcases. And you might feel a little guilty about that if you could form a halfway coherent thought.

You’d expected a coworker, also dragged into town for this god forsaken conference, when you’d heard your name skittering across the marbled lobby floors. Turning to find Daniel, dripping in Greek God beauty and memories, had stolen the air from your lungs.

Quite literally, you had found it impossible to breathe for a few panicky moments as your eyes darted around in search of those that might be tagging along with him.

The warm, nostalgic feeling of stumbling across an old, dear friend had been overshadowed and twisted by fear…and a horrible, throbbing sadness; there was a time when this was your life…the last time anything had made any sense.

The overwhelming urge to sob in his arms had left you aching when he’d pulled you in for a bear hug. Somehow, his being so near had made home feel that much further away.

Take me to him. You’d wanted to beg Danny, clinging to his sturdy frame.

Now, you just want to run. To pack up your things in a hurry and flee the building as if it were engulfed in flames. You wish you were shoving your bag into an overhead compartment on a plane bound for anywhere that isn’t here.

This is too close. They are too close.

Three years it’s been, and he is still the first thing that weighs like sand on your mind when your eyes blink open in the morning…and your very last thought before they drift closed at night.

Has it really been three years? It doesn’t seem possible.

You think of Josh, too. Of course you do. But it is with a distant fondness for what you had. He is a pretty memory. A good memory. One you can recall easily, and with wistful affection. You can speak of him readily, with gentle sentiment. It was a great thing you had, and now it is no longer. Simple.

Jake.

You try so hard not to think of Jake, but he’s there all the time anyway. Cozied up inside your head like he owns the place, no matter how many times you’ve ordered him to vacate. He always was stubborn, and his memory has proven no different. There is a hole in your soul shaped exactly like him. Hardly a blip of light in your eyes; you left most of it there with him all those moons ago.

You could so easily satiate your searing need in some minuscule manner, via YouTube interviews, balcony seats at shows where you would stand no chance of being spotted. The wails of his guitar could pour from your speakers and right into your chest whenever it feels too hollow. You could fall asleep to samplings of his velveteen voice, rasping answers to questions floated from radio hosts and devour written pieces where he speaks so eloquently and with such reverence about his craft…

You could, but you don’t.

You do none of these things. It simply cuts too deeply.

Early on, you did. Tortured yourself as you sobbed and cried out in the night like a homesick child. Yes, in those early days, you’d punished your fractured heart and yearning mind with pain; sunk your teeth into and gnashed them together, fearful of letting go.

But you’ve found your way. Tripped clumsily along, patching together a new normal slowly. The diamond that rests upon your ring finger reminds you of that…and you feel sick with self loathing. Weeping in this strange bed over what used to be, while he waits at home for you, happily watering your plants and tending to the household chores. Loving you from a distance.

He sends you texts just to say he loves you, and so you’ll know you’re on his mind. To ask if you’d like him to pick up anything from the store so you won’t have to worry about it when you return home. To remind you that he adores you in a hundred little ways.

…and here you lie, in a bed that isn’t the one you share with him, chest caving in around your heart, squeezed up tight and longing for Jake.

Jake, Jake, Jake…always Jake. Why won’t he go away?

A knock, swift and sure, startles you out of your misery with a jolt.

You don’t plan to answer, that’s a given…you’re a mess, complete with a blotchy, tear streaked face, and swollen eyes…so you’re silent as you creep over to the door to have a peek through the peephole.

He looks angelic, waiting out there in the hall nervously fidgeting. His curls look like home and your fingers itch to touch them, innocently. Almost the same, and so different all at once, now closely clipped at the sides. He looks reminiscent of his younger self. A little like the Josh you’ve only ever known through pictures; the Josh before he swept into your life like a tornado of light and smiles. He always was so beautiful. So offbeat. So eclectically mishmashed together and esoteric.

It’s like spotting a twin flame that you never expected to see again. Like the dead has risen…

…and before you’re consciously aware of your actions, you’re sliding the lock and cracking open the door.

“Hello, sweet girl.” His voice is soothing, and weighed down heavy as it slams into your head and scrambles your brain.

“Josh,” is all you’re able to manage, stupidly.

“As beautiful as ever, mama.” He smiles, flashing that tiny gap in his teeth that used to make you weak.

“Now, listen,” he holds a hand up and then shoes away whatever notion he’s about to bring up, “Don’t you hold this against our dear Daniel…I know you didn’t want to see us,” he lowers his voice into a conspiring whisper, “but you should know, he’s become a terrible tattletale in your absence.”

Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the fact that you’ve left him standing in the hall like an unwelcome stranger. Against your better judgment, you invite him in.

He’s careful not to touch you, mindful of overstepping in a way that’s so out of character for him it makes you feel unsteady.

“You really do look lovely, sweetheart.” He smiles, “A vision. I’ve missed you, my friend. I’ve missed you very much.”

‘My friend’ stings a little at first, but within a blink, it settles and feels right - you were always friends. Friends before it became love, friends while it was love…

The Josh you knew possessed a great many talents, and quick adaptability was listed among them. He allowed the fickle winds of life to toss him about like no one you’d ever known, and had an ever present and uncannily firm grasp on relationships, and an admiration for how they can shift and morph.

He also always was a cool liar when it was for the greater good. Some things clearly never change.

Nervously, you sweep a hand through your hair and blot your eyes with the backs of your hands, “Lovely my ass…c’mere.”

With little reservation, you tug him in close and fold your arms around him. An unexpected huff of a laugh escapes you when you feel his familiar warmth.

He hugs you back, long and hard, with a soft, “Hi, baby, hi.”

“How’d you find me, you stalker?” You joke tenderly as he sways your bodies back and forth. “I didn’t give Danny my room number.”

That chuckle of his that you’d buried in the past trots out to say hello, “A trip to the front desk was all it took. Have you forgotten the Kiszka charm so easily?”

“Uh-huh,” you roll your eyes, though you’re still wrapped up tightly together and he cannot see.

“Okay,” he concedes “the Kiszka charm and maybe a hundred tucked into a hand or two.”

How strange that you had begged Danny not to tell him; his embrace is blissful and you’ve missed him terribly.

Still, there is a phantom in the room with the two of you, and you know without a doubt that he feels it too.

When he pulls back, his hands slip down your arms to clasp around yours…and he sees it.

“Oh my, mama,” he tugs it up closer for inspection, “would you look at that. Going to the chapel, huh?”

“I—“ for some unknown reason, you pull your hand away and tuck it behind your back as though you’ve been caught in a shameful act.

He tilts his head, regarding you carefully “Can we sit?”

With a welcoming gesture, you usher him in further, and like the gentleman he’s always been, he opts for the chair and doesn’t mention the disheveled bed, or its wept upon pillows.

After you settle in respectively, there’s a long stretch of silence in which you both seem to just sort of sink into being in the same room together again. Finally, he breaks the ice.

“He can’t know you’re here. It won’t be like this,” he waves a finger back and forth between the two of you, indicating the ease in which you’ve reunited.

A choked sob threatens to breach your lips at the mere mention of him, and your hand darts up to press it back.

“And he certainly can’t know about that.” Josh points to your ring winking obnoxiously in the light.

“Of course,” you nod rapidly, blinking tears back. “Yes, of course not…but, is he…” falling silent, your gaze lands on your bare toes and stays there.

“Is he, what?” Josh’s voice is kind, and you are so grateful for it. “Okay? No, sweetheart. He’s very far from okay. I should lie for him, I know I should. He’s my brother…I should tell you he’s happy. Happier than he’s ever been.”

“Will you?” There is a desperate hope in your plea that makes you cringe inwardly. “Will you tell me he’s happy?”

His eyes, so like his twins, and so full of sorrow, watch you for such a long time you begin to squirm this way and that in your seat. “Sit still, mama…” he finally scolds with the tiniest wink to soothe your anxiety, “he’s happy. He’s fine. But best if you just steer clear, alright?”

“So he’s happy? Or you should lie, Josh? Which is it?” Why are you asking? You don’t want to know. It’s infinitely easier to swallow the lie. You can’t stand the thought of Jake broken still and riddled with the pain you know so well.

With a sigh, he avoids your gaze. “You know the answer to that already, it seems. Are you?” His eyes flick towards your engagement ring, “Happy, I mean? Are you?”

Now it’s your turn to lie, “Yes. Very.”

He nods, and then glances at the mascara glaring from your pillows like evidence at trial. “Yes, it would seem so.”

“Josh, I—“

“Look,” he cuts you off, stressing with urgency. “We’re only here for the night. Lay low if you can. He’s bad off, and to see you would level him. To see you with that,” he once again points out your ring, “Would kill him. You leaving…”

A shaking breath rattles his shoulders, “It wasn’t easy for either of us, but Jake? Jake is still in that hotel room you walked out of a thousand nights ago. He never left, sweet girl. He never fucking left…and as much as I know that it’s not your fault…”

He trails off in thought and then drags in a hitching hiss of air, “As much as I know it isn’t either of our faults, I still place all that blame right here, with you and me. I can’t watch him descend any further, alright? So just lay low until we’re gone. For me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a thousand questions beating like bird’s wings against the cage of your mind, “Yes, of course.”

Another lull slips in to visit until he shakes his head slowly, “How did I ever manage to get over you? You truly are beautiful. I’d almost forgotten…that’s heartbreaking.”

There is an innocuous lilt to his tone that warms your soul like cocoa with the fattest marshmallow bobbing along in the mug, and you feel your cheeks turn pink under his open, golden gaze.

“Me?” You laugh, “What about you, gorgeous? I love the hair.”

“Oh, you know,” he brushes his palms over the sides with a bashful shrug, “I let Sam trim it, scissors slipped…had to do something.”

“Still blaming Sam for all of life’s tragedies?” You laugh again. You always did laugh so freely with him, and you’ve missed it more than you ever allowed yourself to realize.

He scoffs with the faintest roll of his sparkling eyes “Obviously. That’s what the youngest is for, mama. You know this. And speaking of Samuel, you understand that Daniel will tell him, right? Those two might as well just get married and call it a day.”

Another giggle sounds out of you, “Don’t be jealous, Joshua. It’s unbecoming. Danny loves you, too…and Sammy I would say definitely considers you a solid acquaintance.”

“Yes, well, my acquaintance would be thoroughly crushed if he didn’t get the chance to at least say hello to you. Maybe later tonight? After the show?” He leans forward and toys with the beads swinging between his knees. “How would that be?”

“Only Sammy?”

He holds up two fingers, scout’s honor, “Only Sammy.”

You agree, and catch up a while longer until it’s time for him to take his leave, and you can’t help the confession that blurts out of your mouth without eloquence.

“You said he never left that hotel room,” you waver with bitten back tears. “It wasn’t…I don’t want you to think…it took me a very long time to leave that room, too.”

One last time, before the door closes behind him, his eyes linger on your pillow and the evidence of your tears, and then find yours, “Sweetheart, are you sure you’ve left it at all?”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @jakesgrapejuice @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #fanfic #greta van smut #gvf fic #greta van fic #jake gvf #josh kiszka #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiskza x reader #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiskza smut #josh kiszka fic #josh gvf #gvf smut #gvf josh #gvf

293 notes · View notes

melodygatesauthor · 2 years ago

Text

Save Us

Moon Boys X f!Reader

Summary: Two months after Marc broke up with you, you get a late night call from Steven that has you worried and rushing to help them. It's hard to face them again after things went wrong, but Marc is going to try and make it up to you.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, Marc is kinda toxic, Marc needs therapy, Marc has issues, Marc needs a hug, THIS STORY IS ANGSTY, may be triggering if you've been in a toxic relationship before, sad, smut, p in v creampie, argument, breakup, exes to lovers trope, soft dom Steven, sorry in advance, no physical abuse

Major Trigger Warning: this story explores themes of emotional abuse. It was very self indulgent. If you’ve been a victim of emotional abuse (or are sensitive to topics like this) then this may be upsetting to you. You’ve been warned. I seriously went the full self indulgent route with this one. Had to work some personal stuff out and it helped!

Word Count: 9.9k (What in the...)

You were awoken in the dead of night to your phone vibrating loudly on the end table at your bedside. You groaned, sitting up and looking at the screen. Clear as day, it said, My Boys🌙. You still needed to change their name in your phone, or completely block their number. It rang until it went to voicemail, but that’s when you saw that there were seven missed calls.

You hadn’t heard from any of them in the two months since Marc had broken up with you, and now they’d called you seven times. It rang again, this time you jumped up and grabbed it immediately. You didn’t want to talk to them, but you knew it must be serious for one of them to be actually calling you.

“H-hello? Hello?” You cleared your throat.

“Dove? Darling?” You heard Steven on the other end and you let out an exhale.

You weren’t ready to deal with Marc, but Steven…at first you were relieved it was him, but the more you thought about it, Steven was worse. Steven might be able to convince you to come back.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, feeling your chest already tighten at the tone of his voice.

“No, no I’m afraid it’s not.” He was sobbing. You felt your own eyes start welling up. “We need your help.”

“Are you in danger? What’s wrong?” You tried to keep the panic down in your voice.

“I…I think I’m a little drunk, but we’re sobering up.” You could hear it now that he’d mentioned it, the slurring of his words as he spoke. “I haven’t been in the front in a long time, it’s always Marc, he won’t…oh my…he won’t let Jake or me out. We’ve been trapped in there.”

“Ok, you need to tell me where you are, right now.” You demanded.

“I’m outside of a…” You heard him pull the phone away from his face.

“Hey, watch it!” Steven yelled.

You heard some scuffling, followed by some Spanish slurs, before the phone was picked up again.

“Mi princesa.” Jake said. “We’re at the corner of Elm and Main, at a place called Tiko’s. I can feel Marc trying to take over again…por favor, querida, we need you.”

The line went dead. It was rare that Jake uttered the words por favor, or we need you. Steven’s cries would remain burned into your memory for an eternity. He cried when you’d left too, and you still hadn’t forgotten the pain. It was all you thought about as you got yourself dressed and headed for their location. You knew right where it was, it was where you and Marc had first met.

------------------------

It was also where he went just before he broke up with you. He’d come home, wasted, completely obliterated and crying. It was constant, and you were sick of it. He refused to go to therapy, said it was for nutjobs, and he didn’t want them drugging him up. You understood, you sympathized, but instead you were stuck trying to handle his terrible self-loathing attitude, and toxic behavior.

“Why don’t you just fucking leave then? Huh? If you’re not happy then why don’t you just go!” His mouth turned into a hard line, his brow furrowed.

That was always his go to line whenever things got tough. Always telling you to leave if you didn’t like it. You sometimes wondered why he even asked you out in the first place if this is how he was.

“Ok Marc, is that really what you want? You want me to leave? Fine…you say it every time we fight so you know what, I’ll go then.”

The two of you had moved in together a year ago, but you moved in to his place, so almost everything was his, Steven’s and Jake’s. The TV that had a purple spot in the corner when you turned it on from the time Marc threw one of Steven’s books at it in a fit of rage; the stool at the breakfast bar that had a wobbly leg from the time Marc pushed it over while he was drunk and yelling at you; and the dresser in the bedroom that had a broken drawer from when he punched it, it was all his.

It was heartbreaking to walk away from the other two though. They didn’t have anything to do with it. When Marc backed out, retreating to the headspace, too upset to handle the pressure, Jake came out. That was the final straw. He couldn’t even be bothered to have a conversation with his girlfriend after berating her for over an hour. He did it time and time again, and this time…you’d had enough.

“Princesa, please don’t go.” Jake said, walking up to you quickly while you started filling a bag with clothes.

“Jake.” You pulled your arm back quickly when he grabbed it.

“Cariño.” He grabbed your arm again.

“No!” You yelled a little too loudly in your apartment. “I’m done Jake. I can’t do this. You want someone to blame? Blame Marc.”

Jake was never one to give up easily, so he must’ve been able to tell how serious you were when he let go of your arm again and forfeited the body to Steven. The bastard, he knew that of the three, Steven would be the one to get you to stay. He’d done it time and time again. Always telling you that he’d confront Marc himself and that he’d work on making Marc be better for the four of you, but even Steven couldn’t help Marc, you were convinced at this point that no one could.

“Darling please,” there came the waterworks. Even when it wasn’t your fault, Steven made you feel guilty. “He’s gotten a little better, yeah? Look…”

You were still filling your bag with clothes while Steven walked to the kitchen and came back with a card.

“He got you this for your birthday.” He held the birthday card in his hand like it was supposed to be the one thing stitching the relationship together. “I didn’t even have to remind him! He did it on his own!”

You stopped, holding a pair of jeans in your hands. You looked at Steven. He was desperate. His eyes were glossed over while he tried to keep it together. You remembered when Marc got you that card, it was the day after a fight, and he felt guilty. He only ever did anything nice when he felt guilty the next day, never when it really counted.

“They’re both assholes for putting you through this.” You said, feeling yourself choking up. “I can’t do this anymore Steven, Marc doesn’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here.”

“But he’s nice sometimes, look he also…” Steven was scrambling around the apartment.

You walked to the bathroom and grabbed your toothbrush and other personal care items. When you looked in the mirror, you noticed your saddened face and realized how much you’d been crying. You’d probably been crying for at least an hour. You wiped your cheeks and went back out to the bedroom where Steven was standing with a vase.

“He got you this vase, remember when you were sick and he went and got you flowers?” Steven asked. You saw his eyebrows raise in an attempt to look happier, but they were fighting to furrow.

“Steven, please go.” You grabbed the vase and put it in the bathroom trash. “You know he only got me those because I had just complained the day before about how he never does anything nice for me? He only does something nice after I’ve complained about it.”

“I can’t just go.” He looked like a lost puppy trying to get you to keep him. “They’re both just out, quiet, I wish I could leave.”

You sighed, wiping your face and sniffling, “then they’re both fucked for doing that to you. You don’t need to be here, dealing with this. Marc is selfish, and…that’s it! He’s selfish! He’s the one who did this, he’s the one who should be here. He’s a fucking coward.”

You threw the bathroom items in your bag and then zipped it.

“Tell Marc I’ll have my brother come back for the rest of my things.” You grabbed your purse and pulled out your keys.

“Sweetheart, love, please!” Steven raised his voice, cracking under the weight of sorrow.

You turned around, “I’m so so sorry baby. I really am.” You said through your own strained voice. “You deserve better than what he’s putting you through, and so do I, I wish I could help you.”

------------------------

With that, and one last look at Steven’s broken face and waterfall of tears, you slammed the door and never looked back, until now, when you were turning the corner on the street to find Jake leaned against the building, smoking a cigarette. You got out of the car and pulled your jacket around yourself tighter. You felt like an idiot for coming back after what Marc put you through, but there you were. You reminded yourself that you weren’t there for Marc, you were there for Jake and for Steven.

“Jake, come on.” You said, waving him over.

“Oh, hermosa, I missed you.” He winked as he walked over to you. He was stinking of alcohol and smoke.

“Put that thing out.” You grabbed it from his lips and dropped it, crushing the butt under your shoe. “Let’s go.” You took his hand, to which he pulled you in close.

“You are as beautiful as the day you left, perhaps even more.” He cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you but you pulled back.

“I didn’t come here to get back together with you, I came back to get you home in one piece.” You pushed him back, and he stumbled and fell.

He shook his head, “Wha-oh right, I’m here and…” Steven looked up at you, it always amazed you how different each of them looked regardless of the fact that they shared the same body. “Oh my…love!”

Steven stood up and couldn’t hide the smile plastered on his drunken face. He gripped your shoulders before pulling you in for a hug. He wasn’t going to try and kiss you like Jake had, he was too respectful of your boundaries to do anything like that. Even when you were dating, he always respected your personal space.

“We really got ourselves in a predicament, yeah? Well…” He chuckled, “Marc did. I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you.”

“I need you to just get in the car, we can talk on the way back to your place.” You said, urging him into the vehicle.

When you got in on your side you let out a heavy sigh and put the car in drive before heading toward their apartment. The streetlights afforded you a split second of light before fading into darkness again. The radio was off, leaving nothing but silence. You heard Steven sniffle, fighting back the urge to cry.

“Tell me what happened, why did you call? I made it very clear-”

“Marc isn’t letting me or Jake out, it’s just headspace all day every day. He’s destroying us.” Steven said, choking on his words. “I don’t know when the last time we ate something proper was. I’m so hungry.” He pressed a hand to his stomach.

“Do you have food at the house?” You asked, pulling down a different road.

“Y-yeah I think he’s got a few things…I don’t know.” He said, laying his head back. “I missed you.” He was crying again, “I’m sorry, I said I wasn’t going to do this before I called you.”

“It’s fine. I’m…I’m glad you called me, Steven.” You said, keeping your eyes on the road.

“We had a lot of time to think after you left, and…he really didn’t deserve you, I never should’ve asked you to stay. I’m so sorry.” Just when Steven’s cries became overwhelmingly loud, they stopped suddenly, and you knew it was Jake coming back. You’d grown to know them so well that you could tell the differences between the way they each breathed when they were upset.

“Keep him in there please, at all costs.” You said coldly, trying to keep your composure.

“Si.” Was all he said. You knew he understood.

Steven wasn’t a child, and didn’t need to be treated like one, but he was much more sensitive than the other two, and you knew that he was living a nightmare having to see you and go through this, and having you just within arm’s reach, but not being able to really have you. He had been a passenger in Marc’s path of destruction, just like you had, the only difference was that you could walk away, Steven just had to suffer in there and you felt terrible for him and Jake both.

“Marc has completely taken over. Saw a girl at the bar tonight though who kinda looked like you and then he went loco, yelled at her, he was so drunk, and then he went away.” You watched him pull a cigarette pack from his pocket. “Steven was so happy to be out, he just ran outside and knew he had to call you to get you to help. Something about that girl must’ve knocked Marc back.”

“You’re smoking again? I thought you quit.” You grabbed the pack and threw it into the back seat.

“It’s Marc’s pack.” He explained, dropping his hands on his lap. You could tell you irritated him.

Marc wasn’t a smoker. At least, he hadn’t been while you were together. Jake had been, but insisted on quitting after getting to know you.

“What has he been doing?” You asked as you pulled onto their street.

“Nothing.” Jake was aggravated. “He’s been doing absolutely fucking nothing except destroying himself and dragging us down with him.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve been in there for two months, dos.” He held up two fingers to emphasize his point.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you said, you didn’t know what else you could say.

“I’m not mad at you, Cariño, I could never be mad at you.” He said calmly as you pulled into the driveway.

“Jake…” You put the car in park. “Did he hurt anyone?”

“No, no one except you, and Steven.” He said softly.

“And you. You might not be showing it but, I know you’re feeling it too.” You said quietly. He always stayed quiet about his feelings, but he wasn’t emotionless, he was just less expressive.

His hand reached over and grabbed yours.

“You have always been so caring, querida.” You tried to keep it inside, but a smirk played at the corners of your mouth, Jake was always so smooth.

“Please stop.” You pulled your hand out from under his and opened the door quickly.

If you’d let his hand linger, you’d be inclined to lean into it, and you couldn’t allow yourself to do that. You damned yourself for even being there in the first place. You still had the key to their apartment and opened the door so the slightly staggering Jake could make his way inside. You made sure to lock it tightly and returned your keys to your pocket before helping Jake get to a chair at the table.

“Here.” You opened the fridge, only to find…nothing.

There were about two tablespoons of butter, opened, several sauce packets strewn about, a moldy tomato, and about three-twelve packs of beer. You took note that one of the twelve packs was down a few beers. You let out a heavy sigh.

“Guess he’s living on air and beer then?” You slammed the fridge closed.

“There’s some ramen I think, in the cupboard.” Jake said, letting out a huff. “Steven would appreciate the taste of food you know…”

“Think he can handle it?” You opened the cupboard and found some packages of dried noodles. “Being here with me?”

“He’s calmed down. I think he will be ok.” And with that, Jake was gone.

“I’m fine.” Steven said, sucking in a deep breath. “Really.”

You grabbed some water from the tap and handed it to Steven whose hands were trembling. He drank from the cup in big gulps, when he finished it, you poured him some more.

“Let me make you something to eat.” You said, turning to the cupboards.

There wasn’t one pan that you could use. They were all in the sink, or on the stove, and they were all dirty. Of course this couldn’t just be easy.

“He usually just microwaves somethin’, or eats the noodles dry.” You groaned at Steven’s words.

“I…nevermind.” You wanted to say how frustrated you were to be there trying to make food for them, and running into every obstacle along the way, but you decided not to dump that on Steven.

Instead you ran the hot water and grabbed the sponge. You soaked it and then started washing the dishes, lathering soap on each one in silence, knowing Steven’s eyes were on your back. You felt saddened by the memories flooding through your head, thinking about all the times you’d been at the sink doing the dishes for them before.

------------------------

There was one time when Steven was fronting and he was sitting at the table while you did dishes after dinner, and he was going on about some Egyptian God you couldn’t remember the name of now. You were smiling in this memory, unable to suppress the joy that came to you while listening to him chattering on about his passions. When you’d finished scrubbing and turned to look at him. He was absolutely beaming, and so were you. You were…happy then.

“How did we get so lucky?” He asked, standing up and walking over to you.

He put his hands on your waist and kissed your forehead.

“Well, Jake’s a smooth talker, you’re thoughtful and sweet and Marc…” you trailed off.

You and Marc had never seen eye to eye. He was always pushing you away. Always telling you how he should just disappear and let Jake and Steven have the body so that you could be happy. But that wasn’t what you wanted, at least, that’s what you told him. You wondered what made you fall for him in the first place sometimes, but that didn’t matter now, you loved him, right?

“Marc what?” You watched his entire body language change, and he let go of you, stepping back. He chuckled, “hard to find anything to huh? What do I keep telling you?”

You groaned, wishing that he would’ve just let you and Steven have a nice evening, but you’d struck a nerve, and Marc loved to fight. He liked to make you feel bad, at least that’s how it felt, and then leave right when you pushed too far so that Jake or Steven were left to pick up the pieces. You tried to be understanding, you knew he had trauma, but sometimes he was just cruel.

“Please don’t start, Marc, not tonight I’m exhausted.” You walked toward the bedroom and he followed, hot on your heels.

“No! Don’t you walk away from me…!” He said your name with venom laced around each letter, “we never get to talk, the other two always get the best of you and then when I come in, you…you just walk away!”

You pressed your lips together tightly in frustration.

“Are you suggesting that when I see you, Marc, that you give me the best version of yourself? Hm? Because from the way I see it, every time you’re fronting, you treat me like you don’t fucking want me here!” You felt your eyes starting to gloss over. “Not to mention, you say I’m an ass for walking away? You always retreat into the headspace every single time we argue!”

“You ever think that maybe I actually don’t want you here? How many times have I told you to leave? If I treat you so badly, then just go!” He yelled.

“Why can’t you just stop being an asshole and then I don’t have to leave?! I don’t want to go Marc, I want you to love me and treat me like you want me around!” Now you couldn’t stop the dam from flooding over. Tears were coming down, and fast, and you knew it was only a matter of time before Marc dipped out. “I love you, I don’t want to go.”

“No, you don’t love me, you love Steven, and Jake, but not me.” He said, and his words were followed by silence that hung heavily in the air.

He was right, and you weren’t going to say it out loud, but he was right. When you’d first met them, it was just Marc at first. He was sweet, caring, he treated you like a princess. The more you got to know the boys, the more you grew to love them all, and the longer you were together, the more Marc started to push you away. Because you deserved better than him, and he was no good for you, or at least that’s what he said.

------------------------

That was the moment you’d realized you really didn’t love Marc anymore. You still held him in your heart, but the spark wasn’t there. Instead it was replaced with an anxiousness that pooled in your gut like a bad meal. You turned and looked at Steven once you’d finished the dishes. He was staring up at you from the chair with those big eyes you loved so much.

“Let me get this food going before he takes over again.” You grabbed one of the pots you cleaned and filled it with water before putting it on the stove.

When you turned around, Steven was standing with his hands balled into nervous fists at his sides, eyes trained on the floor. He did that when he wanted to say something but knew he shouldn’t. You put a hand on his shoulder and he relaxed a little bit and met your gaze.

“What is it?” You asked. “Talk to me?”

“No, nope, I’m, I’m fine.” He said, pressing his lips together tightly.

“Steven, it’s three am, I drove over here to help you, I washed the dishes and now I’m cooking you food. I think you can talk to me.” You said firmly.

He let out an exhale, “I miss you s’all.”

“I know, I miss you too. I just can’t…I can’t…”

“I know. I hate him too.” Steven looked agitated, more agitated than you’d seen him in a long time.

------------------------

The last time he was this bold regarding Marc was that same night, right after Marc had accused you of not loving him. After dropping those words on you, he left, letting Steven have you, the blubbering crying mess, that he’d left behind. It wasn’t the first time that you cried because of Marc, and each time chipped away at Steven more and more until he’d had enough too.

“Love,” he rushed over to you, pulling you in tightly, letting you soak his shirt for the umpteenth time, “you know if I could hit him, I would.”

You didn’t respond, you just sobbed into Steven’s chest, trying to let yourself be soothed by the gentle way he rubbed your back. You liked the way he smelled, the way they all smelled, and you kissed his chest just above where your tears had soaked his shirt.

“I love you, Steven, and I love Marc too.” You said, unsure whether you were trying to convince him or yourself, or maybe you were trying to convince the man hiding inside his own head.

“I know darling, I think he knows, he just gets caught up in his own head sometimes.” He chuckled, “well, I guess all three of us do.”

That forced a small amused breath to escape you. The air already felt lighter, and you were starting to cope with the emotional turmoil Marc had put you through. This was how it always went, Marc would start a fight, you’d be left with Steven or Jake, and slowly your emotions would come back to normal with the help of his alters just in time for him to break you down again. It was a never ending cycle.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” You murmured, pulling back. “Steven, I love you, I love all three of you but-“

He silenced you with his lips over yours.

“That’s enough of that.” He said in a forceful but quiet tone. “I’ll keep him in there if I have to, I’m not letting him push you away from us.”

You wanted to believe him, and you wished he’d been able to do it, but he couldn’t. That didn’t stop him from seizing the moment while he had it though, pulling you in for soft kisses and entangled tongues. Steven’s favorite body part was your breasts, that’s how you could tell sometimes if the boys switched mid session. One time Jake had taken over while Steven was buried in your chest and immediately began squeezing your rear.

Not now though, now Steven was dragging your shirt up while he trekked his hand over your abdomen on his way to squeeze your rounded mound. You gasped a heated moan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and entangling your fingers into his curls. The supporting hand on your back gripped tightly, pulling you in so hard you thought you might melt into one being.

“I love you, Steven.” You said, going in for more breathy kisses.

“I love you too darling.” He started slowly pushing you backward until the backs of your knees met the mattress.

You fell back, chest heaving. Steven was ripping off Marc’s jacket and shirt and you were quick to get your top off as well. He preferred you leave in your bra, he said he liked to take it off himself. Something about the way they looked when he unclasped the strap in the back, you didn’t fully understand, but you didn’t argue either.

“Wow…” he said, looking down at you. “You’re so beautiful, dove.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. You were sure you looked frightful, eyes puffy from tears, makeup streamed down your face, but Steven always told you how pretty you were, no matter what. He was good at that. He climbed over you, hovering his body closely over yours. You felt the peak of his erection pressing onto your leg through his pants.

“Oh, Steven…” you moaned, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his lips to yours in deep, bruising kisses.

He was grinding himself on your leg, moaning every time he opened his mouth over yours in another wet and messy kiss. Supporting himself on one elbow, he reached around your back and unhooked your bra with one hand before disconnecting your lips to look at your chest. When he pulled the bra up over your arms, he stared in awe at your tits, wasting no more time before latching his mouth over one of them.

“Oh, f-fuck.” You stammered, gripping the back of his head.

One of his hands ran up your abdomen and grabbed your other nipple, pinching it between his fingers. You arched your back, pushing your chest further into his face and hand. You felt him gently churning his hips and grinding into you. He was sloppily sucking on your peak, covering your tit in his saliva.

“Mm, feels good baby.” You groaned, rolling your hips upward, wishing you’d taken your pants off before this.

Steven, who you’d thought would be the most timid when it came to sex, became silently demanding in the bedroom when it came to what you were and weren’t allowed to do. He liked to be the one to undress you, and he liked to be the one who started the physical piece. He liked to take his time, making you yearn until you nearly exploded the moment he entered you.

He leaned back. The shadow of his erection was oh so apparent in his sweats. It took everything inside of you not to sit forward and grab it. Steven’s little curl fell in front of his eyes, and he didn’t bother to brush it away as he unbuttoned your jeans and tugged them off.

“Oh love, look you’ve soaked straight through your little panties there.” He leaned over, burying his face in the fabric of your underpants and inhaling deeply. His pussy drunken eyes, hooded and dark, peered over your mound at you. “I’m just going to have a little taste, darling…just a little…”

He moved your panties to the side and ran his tongue along your slit, flicking sharply once he got to your clit. A gasp escaped your lips as you shifted your hips forward toward Steven’s face. He pressed a large hand on your abdomen, holding you down.

“Sh-shit.” You gripped the sheets tightly.

Steven, despite Jake’s overall skill in the bedroom, was the best at eating pussy. The way his tongue glided over each part of your cunt, and the way he slurped and groaned to your taste like he was savoring each drop made you lose your mind. He knew to put a hand down to keep you in place, otherwise your hips would force him off the bed completely. He looked up at you, eyes dark and hungry, before looking back down at his work. You tangled one of your hands into his hair, urging him on.

“Mm, Steven you always know just…oh shit…just what to do baby.” You cooed, tugging at his curls

If there was one way to help you get over a fight with Marc, this was it, and Steven and Jake knew that. They’d fuck you until you could hardly walk and then cuddle you while you fell asleep.

------------------------

Steven was quiet now while you finished making the ramen noodles. You had to keep your back to him while you cooked, otherwise you were going to break down and fall into bed with him and that wouldn’t be good for either of you. Now that you were finished, he was sitting at the table again. You put the noodle bowl in front of him with a fork.

“I hope you like it.” You said genuinely.

Steven looked up at you, “it’s wonderful love, really.”

Steven seemed happy, at least, somewhat, to be getting some food in his stomach, even if it wasn’t the most nutritious. You wondered if he’d had the chance to enjoy any sort of meal since Marc had taken over, but from the way he and Jaked talked, this was the first time either of them had been out in a long time.

You kept trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care about Marc, but a big part of you was curious as to why he took over the boy all that time. The other part of you already kind of knew.

“He really has been fronting this whole time? Why?” You walked over and sat at the table across from Steven.

Steven shrugged, “you know him, he likes to suffer, thinks he’s some kind of hero if he takes the pain himself. A bit messed up innit? Usually once the pain part is over, I come out yeah? Not anymore, the pain part never ends. It’s just…he’s always hurtin’.”

“I’m surprised that Jake hasn’t taken over, when things get really tough, he’s usually right there, ready to deal with it.” You idly picked at a tear in the tablecloth.

“I think Jake likes watching Marc…well…destroy himself.” He stuffed some noodles in his mouth. Steven was probably the only person in the world who could talk with a mouthful that didn’t make you frustrated with their poor manners. “Problem is, it’s destroying us too, and I don’t want to die.” He gulped. “S’why I called you. I thought if anyone could help, it would be you.”

“I’m glad I could help get you home, but I’m…I’m not staying Steven.” The room got quiet again.

He reached a hand across the table and put it over yours. You should’ve stopped him. You should’ve pulled away and told him to cut the crap, but his hand, his gentle and soft hand made you feel warm. Nausea swept through you as you recalled more about your time with the boys.

------------------------

Marc was smiling from across the table at you, holding your hand tightly. You were smiling too. It had been a perfect night. It was New Year’s Eve, and you’d both decided to stay in, and spend it with each other. It was three nights before the breakup, three nights before he finally brought you to the breaking point. He laughed at a silly joke you made, and now he just looked at you with those eyes.

That’s why you’d fallen in love with Marc. He had a way of making you feel like you were the most important thing in the world to him. In fact, you were so important to him that he felt like you were better off without him. He had a troubled past, he didn’t hide that. He eased into telling you about the boys, afraid of scaring you off, but he told you about his mother and about his brother before you’d met the other two. In fact, knowing about his trauma was the only reason you didn’t call him crazy and leave when he told you about Jake and Steven.

He got up and leaned over the table, placing a peck on your forehead. He grabbed your plates and walked over to the sink, turning on the faucet to wash the dishes. Your phone buzzed. It was your brother.

Joe: Hey! I’m going to be in town tomorrow, is it cool if I come over?

“Oh, Joe is asking if he can come over tomorrow.” You paused. “Should be fine right?”

The dishes clanked in the sink and the faucet stopped. Not again, you thought.

“You act different when your brother is here.” He said, turning around and wiping his hands on a towel.

“He’s my brother, of course I act different with him than I do with-”

“No, I mean…you treat me different when he’s around.” He slapped the dish towel on the counter and walked to the living room.

You buried your face in your hands. It was a simple question. Can your brother come over tomorrow? There was no reason to say no, in fact, you only asked out of courtesy. It was a way of making sure you weren’t interfering with some unknown plans. Steven or Jake would’ve just said, of course, with some term of endearment attached to the end.

The night would be even worse if you didn’t follow Marc to the living room, so you got up and went to him. He was back to, staring out the window.

“Marc, I don’t want to fight with you, I’ll just text him and-”

“Yep, just tell him that your nutjob, douchebag boyfriend doesn’t want you around your family.” He said, keeping himself turned away from you. “Make me out to be the bad guy. You’re good at that.”

“Alright you know what? I’m not doing this, Marc.” You threw your arms up before walking to the door and grabbing your keys out of the change bowl.

“Yeah? So you’re just going to leave then?” He turned and looked at you now. “Good, it’s probably for the best.”

“Fuck you.” You slammed the door behind yourself.

You’d gone down to the parking lot and started your car but you didn’t leave yet. You just sat there, crying for a bit, thinking even more about what he’d said, you act different when your brother is here. You hated to admit when Marc was right, but you did act differently toward him. In fact, you downright avoided him. He and your brother didn’t always see eye to eye, and you hadn’t exactly told Joe about Marc’s…condition, so it wasn’t like one of the boys could take his place; Besides, you were sure that would’ve upset Marc even more, you asking one of them to replace him around your family. It would’ve made him feel even more inferior than he already did.

You further hated to admit that he didn’t deserve that. To do that would seem like you were ashamed of him. Like he was your little secret. The saddest thing though, was that it wasn’t the mental disorder that you were trying to hide from your brother, it was the way that Marc acted when your brother was around. You weren’t the only one that acted different with him around.

You laughed a lot, and joked with Joe, and you assumed Marc was probably jealous that you didn’t joke with him the same way, as though you hadn’t been close with your brother your entire life. So Marc would call Joe a punk and try to one-up him in almost everything, and it exhausted you.

While you sat there in your car, furious and thinking about what to do next, you surmised it must’ve been what Marc felt like, when he left the apartment in a huff, on the nights he didn’t hide behind the other two, and he went to the bar instead. You figured that if it worked for him, it would work for you, but you’d forgotten how busy it would be. You’d forgotten for a moment that it was New Year’s Eve.

That made it easier though. People were happy to buy you drinks, seeing that you’d walked into the bar in tears. Some guy offered to take you home, but you denied him, telling him you had three boyfriends waiting for you, to which he raised his eyebrows as if impressed and laughed. When you saw one of them out of the corner of your eye charging into the bar like he owned the place, you groaned.

The well dressed man in a paperboy cap and tie walked over, grabbing your arm.

“Come on, princesa.” You pulled back.

“Jake! I want to stay for one more song!” You shouted over the music.

“No, it’s time to go-”

You covered his mouth in a quick but gentle kiss, “por favor mi amor?” You asked as sweetly as you could.

Jake rolled his eyes, but you knew he couldn’t resist an opportunity to dance with you, especially not when you talked to him like that. A smile spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Dancing with Jake was more like foreplay than it was dancing. It always started facing each other. His hips would gently churn against you while you stood as close as you possibly could to him, chest to chest. His lips hardly left yours, and when they did, they instead found purchase on your neck.

The dancing always ended with your rear pressed against his erection while he dry humped you to the rhythm of the song. His leather covered fingers were around your throat while he kissed the side of your neck and cheek tenderly, drawing moans from you that couldn’t be heard over the music. By the time you finally agreed to leave, you were drunk, and a single finger stroke away from a full body, earth quaking orgasm.

You’d driven far, at least a half hour from home, giving Jake more than enough time to stick his hand in your pants while he drove and circle the smooth gloved fingers over your swollen clit. You were already so wet, he slid around easily. You gripped the door handle when you reached climax, moaning and gasping under his touch.

It didn’t stop there though, it never was that simple with Jake. He was going to give it to you when you got home. You’d been teasing his cock all night, running your hand over it through his nice pants. He would give you hell later for ruining them, as though he actually cared. As though he didn’t have ten more pairs at home.

Something about Jake made you feel different than the other two. You wanted to act out, you wanted to be the biggest brat you could just to see how far he’d push you back. The back and forth with Jake was fun though, it always ended in at least one orgasm from both of you, and smiles before dozing off. You were his little brat, and he adored putting you in your place.

That night was no different. You stumbled inside, he chased after you, closing the door with his foot. You were already removing your jacket.

“Get naked for me, cariño, papi will be in to check on you soon.” He said, giving you that smirk that caused your knees to buckle.

You went into the bedroom and wasted no time at all stripping down completely naked except for your panties. Jake always wanted you to keep your panties on, especially if they were wet. You sat at the end of the bed, waiting for him to come in. Be still your beating heart when he did.

His hat was off, likely resting on the coat hanger by the door, his jacket had been discarded as well. He was the most well dressed of the three, and boy did he make you drool standing there like that. His tie was loosened. His button down shirt was rolled up exposing his strong forearms and hands. He wiped his mouth, you were in awe watching the veins in his hands shift under the skin. He was one of the few men you’d seen that could make suspenders sexy.

“Princesa, you know that’s not how I like to see you…” He smirked at you again, an evil but playful grin.

You rolled over on your stomach and then up on all fours, presenting your rear to him proudly. He cooed about how beautiful your ass looked with a thin lacy fabric wedged between your cheeks. He brushed his bare palm over one of them and then smacked it gently. You heard the shuffling of his clothes being removed, along with the clanking from the metal on his belt.

The bed shifted when you felt him get behind you. His finger hooked under the waistband of your panties and slid down, pulling them out of your crack.

“Oh, look at you hermosa.” He used his other hand to feel around between your folds, drawing soft whines from you. “Did you like teasing me? Hm?”

“Yes, papi.” You groaned, lowering your head to the mattress and angling your rear up higher for him.

“You had a rough night, so I’ll go easy on you cariño.” He said, dropping his tie in front of your face.

You knew what to do. You put it around your neck, feeling the soft fabric against your throat, and then reached back, handing him the excess. You felt it tighten under his grip as he pulled back. Jake would never harm you, but he loved to hurt you. Sometimes he’d leave little bite marks that Steven would obsessively rub disinfectant over the next day. Other times he’d leave bruises on your waist from how hard he squeezed and fucked into you.

You’d teased him so much at the bar that he didn’t spend as much time on foreplay as he usually did, and instead kept your head level by tugging on his tie, and getting you in position to ravage you. Sliding into you was easy, you’d been ready since your orgasm in the car. He had one hand, squeezing on your hip that would periodically slap your asscheek and then go back in for a bruising hold over you.

“Si, princesa, you feel so tight, so…mmm.” He could usually last a long time, but you’d spent quite a while rubbing his cock on the dance floor, and he couldn’t hold out.

In truth you didn’t need Jake to last long though, the way he moved he always made you come, every single time. Almost every single time. On the few times he didn’t, he wasn’t afraid to get down behind you and eat his spend out of you while flicking his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves until you were gripping the sheets and begging for him to stop.

------------------------

You pulled your hand back from Steven’s, feeling a pang of guilt for holding it so long. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. As soon as your fingers left his, you saw the color leave his face. He dropped his fork and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Marc.” You said quietly.

He said your name coldly. He was fairly sober at this point. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed harshly. He reached for the glass of water and gulped some down. He was surprisingly gentle when he put the cup back down. You’d expected him to slam it.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” He said. “But I guess now that I’m here, it’s time for you to leave right?”

“Marc, you told me to go. Remember?” You were already resisting your fight or flight response kicking in.

“Didn’t actually think you would go.” He sighed and shook his head. “Probably for the best, right?”

“Never better.” You slid your chair out, standing up.

“You look good…baby.” He said.

“Goodbye, Marc.” You weren’t going to do this…not again.

You’d almost made it to the door. Your hand felt the draft through the broken trim on the doorframe from when Marc pulled it open too harshly so many times. You felt his hand…usually he just let you walk away, but his hand touched yours and you couldn’t stop yourself from turning to face him.

“Marc why are you doing this…please just-”

He closed the tense space between you, covering your mouth in his over and over until you felt like you might collapse. Part of you still tried to pull back, but it was pointless, not because he was holding on too tightly, but because you weren’t trying all that hard. You’d given in to his tender touch, his desperation, his need to keep you.

All you’d thought about all night were the bad times, but there were some good ones too, and they came flooding in while he kissed you, one soft peck after another.

------------------------

You were sitting at the bar the night you’d met, alone, and the handsome man in a forest-green shirt sat down next to you. He caught your eye immediately with his gorgeous smile and the way his eyes wrinkled when he laughed. You were completely enamored from the moment you laid eyes on Marc, entranced by his very being. The two of you drank far too much, and shared far too much that night.

You weren’t one to put out on the first date, nor when it was your first time talking to someone, but you’d made an exception for Marc. You found yourself at his place that night, listening to him coo about how beautiful you were with his face buried in your neck. He was so sweet, gentle, and kind, you wanted to be around him more and more.

Your second date, a real date, was at a restaurant you both hadn’t been to, but talked about wanting to try through your texts. It was the worst food you’d ever had, but sneaking into the bathroom to get fucked over the sink was worth the time and money spent on the bad meal.

It was more than just the sex though, of course that was great, but it was the way Marc really made you feel like you could be yourself around him. He held your hand everywhere you went, as though you were a prize and he’d won and wanted to show you off. When you agreed to be his girlfriend he started looking for excuses to say it. He would call to order pizza and say, yes, for my half I’d like pepperoni and my girlfriend would like the other half with just cheese, please.

So on the nights that he got destructive, it made things even harder. You knew where it was all coming from. Guilt. He felt like you were too good for him, so he had the, push her away before she can push me away, and the, she’s not going to leave on her own so I need to make her leave, mentality. The good times made the bad times feel that much worse, and made it that much harder to walk away when it got really rough.

No matter what he’d thrown at you, you were willing to work through it with him, if only he’d let you. It was when the other two started coming around that things got really tough for Marc, seeing the way you were with them, how you smiled, and the way they made you so happy. For him, you assumed, it made him feel even more like he wasn’t good enough for you. He was jealous, full of hatred for his own shortcomings and unable to get over the pain he brought upon himself. If only he would’ve just talked to you, instead of pushing you away, you wouldn’t be in the position you were in right then.

------------------------

You couldn’t help giving in though, letting him peel off your clothing layer by layer until you were in just your panties, and he was completely undressed, pressed up against you in the bed. Steven was your selfless lover, the one who treated sex like an artform, savoring every single piece of your body as though it were sacred. Jake was your rough and tough beatdown guy who always knew when you needed to be put in your place, but Marc…Marc knew you.

He knew just how to suck on your neck to get you whining and whimpering in ways that the other two could never dream of. He knew just what to say to make you squirm underneath him, begging for more. He kissed you deeply now, feeling around in your soaking wet panties for your clit, circling over it when he found it. You groaned into his mouth.

“Oh wow, baby, so fuckin’ wet.” He said, sliding a finger into your hole easily. “Can’t believe how soaked you are just for me.”

You arched your back, gasping, “oh, shit, Marc.” You wrapped both arms around his neck.

“Tell me how good that feels, tell me baby…” He begged, desperate for your words of praise.

“It feels so…oh shit…you feel so good.” You kept your eyes locked on his while you said it.

He covered your mouth in bruising kiss after bruising kiss while he shoved another finger into your wet cunt. You tangled your fingers into his curls, reveling in the way his moans deepend under your touch. He was so warm and familiar, no matter how much you hated yourself for giving in to him, you couldn’t deny how wonderful Marc felt while he fingered you.

“I want you…” You said, the desperation in your tone pissed you off, but you didn’t care.

“You do?” He asked in between kisses.

“Yes.” You breathed.

Normally, Marc would get you off twice, once with his mouth, fingers, and one time he got you off with his thigh, and then the second time he would get you off was by fucking you until you couldn’t see straight. Tonight he was so glad to have you there, you could tell by how he acted, that he didn’t second guess your request. He wasn’t going to make you wait to feel him inside of you. You could probably ask him for the moon right now and he’d hand it over to you.

He pulled his fingers from you and immediately stuck them between your lips. His eyes rolled back, Marc loved having his fingers sucked on while he fucked into you. You felt his cock glide to your hole.

“I wanna hear you tell me how my dick feels when I fuck you, baby.” He took his fingers from your mouth to guide himself into your cunt.

Your head flew back, nearly hitting the headboard when he finally thrust himself into you. It took you a moment to come down from the initial wave that jolted through your body. While Steven and Jake were usually fixated on breasts or ass, Marc was stuck with his mouth on your neck, leaving bruising hickeys and forcing pained groans from your lips. You wished he was terrible in bed, at least then you would’ve been able to resist him.

“Tell me baby, say it, please.” Marc was so needy, so desperate for your words, but you weren’t going to give them to him.

“No.” You said in a moan.

He didn’t even look at you, he just kept pushing into you, faster and harder, as though he could fuck the words from your mouth. You liked when Marc got a little rough with you. When Jake was rough, it was methodical, controlled, and intentional; When Marc got rough, he was jagged, unpredictable, and downright messy. He would huff while his skin smacked against yours in repetition, voice becoming more and more wrecked with each thrust.

“You’re gonna play this game, huh?” He lifted his head up and looked at you, lips pressed together tightly, dark brow furrowed.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” You spat back. His hand reached up and gripped your throat. “You gonna start fucking choking me now?”

“As if you need another reason to hate me.” He said between thrusts.

You never expected that more fighting would do you in, that that would be what got you there, but it did. Your body was heating, pooling within your core. You leaned your head back, arched your body upward, you were so close. Then all at once you were empty, Marc pulled out of you, but kept his eyes trained on yours, and his hand around your throat. Asshole.

“Tell me how bad you want it, and maybe I’ll keep going.” He was breathing heavily.

“No.” You whacked his arm away and tried to get up.

You were on the edge of the bed, almost pressing the ball of your foot to the cool wood floor when Marc’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against his chest. Instinctively you’d spread your legs over his knees. His erection was prodding between your folds. You felt his chest rising and falling against your spine. One of his hands pinched your nipple while the other guided his cock back into your cunt.

“Tell me.” He said softly.

From this position he could easily tease your clit while he fucked upward into you. This angle made him feel deeper, like he filled every bit of your channel, all the way until he couldn’t go any further. You rolled your head back over his shoulder. You hated how intimate this position felt, but you loved how it made your entire body burn.

“F-feels good…” You were practically drooling, and when he started sucking on your neck it was even worse.

“I wanna hear you, keep going.” He grunted and groaned while he kept thrusting into your tight, wet hole.

“You…oh shit…you fuck me so good, please don’t stop.” You begged, nearly crying with the need to feel yourself crashing over his girth.

“That’s right, yeah…” He continued circling his fingers over your swollen clit. “You gonna come for me babe?”

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop M-Marc it feels, oh baby it’s so…” It was coming back again, the heat, the tingling that turned you into a ragdoll.

You felt Marc’s thick cock harden inside of you, and you knew he wasn’t going to deny you this time. His arms tightened and his fingertips pinched your nipple almost to an unbearable point of agony. His other fingers didn’t stop circling though, drawing your orgasm out of you in soft circular motions. You were a panting, crying mess while your walls clamped down over him, and he was no different, groaning and grunting into your ear while he shot his hot spend into you.

“Fuck, baby.” He said as he started coming down from his orgasm.

Once you were both done, and your mind was stabilizing once more, you felt nothing but hatred for yourself, and guilt for what the other two may have witnessed from the headspace. You were sure that Jake knew, but you’d hoped that Steven had managed to get some rest. Without looking back at Marc, trying to avoid your shame, you went to the bathroom and cleaned yourself up. When you looked in the mirror, you were disgusted with the woman looking back. You promised yourself you would never do this, you thought.

When you came back out, Steven was looking back, wearing nothing but his sweats. You sucked in a deep breath, feeling only sorrow. This was it…the point in the road where you had to choose, and you weren’t sure you were strong enough to make that decision, so you were glad when the boys chose for you.

“He…erm…he knows.” Steven said softly. You heard his voice cracking.

“He knows what?” You asked.

“He knows that you have to go, and that you aren’t coming back.” Steven pulled a shirt over his torso. “I’d rather you didn’t go, I’d rather he go but…”

“He can’t.” You helped him finish his sentence.

“Right.” His bottom lip began to quiver.

You knew that the part of Marc that loved you wouldn’t allow for him to completely give up the body while you were present, and therefore the two of you would always be at each other’s throats. You couldn’t have Steven and Jake without Marc, because Marc couldn’t stay away, he just couldn’t, and so you, for your own sake, had to go, and never come back.

“I really am going to miss you, Steven, and Jake.” You walked up and placed a kiss on Steven’s tear stained cheek. “And you too Marc.”

You didn’t turn back around when you left, you didn’t check to make sure that they were ok, you just put your clothes back on, grabbed your keys, and walked out the door. You weren’t sure if your visit to them would have left them saved, or if Marc would continue to spiral and destroy them all, but you couldn’t stay, that much you knew for sure, no matter how much it pained you to go.

You had to do what was best for you for once, even if it nearly killed you.

AO3 LINK

TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275, @minigirl87, @ahookedheroespureheart, @ninebluehearts, @in-between-the-cafes

633 notes · View notes

jakegooglyeyes · 2 months ago

Text

Naiad - 1/3

This is a shorter series I've written for quite a while. I need a little fluff to help cope with stress. I came up with this solely because Jake is a Sagittarius. Prone to a lot of mistakes because I wrote and edited this sleep-deprived.

Pairing: Centaur!Jake x Nymph!reader (f)

A centaur has fallen in love with a naiad for a very long time. He deems himself too brutish to be near you, satisfied with watching you from a distance. Until one day, he hears the river goddess cries out for you, her child who was taken by humans.

Word count: 2300

Warning: mild violence/gore, butchering of Greek mythology, Jake's self-loathing and mild horny thoughts, repeating the word "gentle" about a thousand times

Tagged: @gyllenhaalstories (as promised)

Minor DNI

Your breath catches in your throat, a ragged gasp as you realize you cannot remember how long you have been running. Exhausted and thirsty, your legs are about to give out, and painful cuts cover your bare feet.

You try to call out to your mother for help, but you have strayed so far away from the river that your voice can no longer reach her. Looking behind, all you can see is towering trees and darkened sky. Crawling into a hollowed tree, you pray to the gods that the humans will not find you here. You are so frightened by the thought of what they will do if they capture you.

Just as the footsteps get closer, you hear a twangling sound of a released bowstring and something sharp piercing through the air. Whoever attacks them must have caught the humans off guard. They scream and curse in words you can not understand as bodies hit the ground one after another. The bowstring sings its song a few more times. The last human let out a pathetic grunt and then, deafening silence.

You cautiously peek out from behind the tree, the stench of blood and smoke hitting you instantly. A gruesome scene lays out in front of you: several bodies sprawl on the ground, arrows protruding from their chests, their faces twist in agony, illuminated by the flickering flames of fallen torches. Judging by their bloodstained clothes and scattered weapons, these dead men were your pursuers a few moments ago. Now they lie still without light in their eyes.

"Are you hurt?"

A rumbling voice calls out from the darkness between the trees and the tall grass.

Startled, you retreat into your hiding spot once more, eyes fixating on the shadow in front of you. You can only make out a tall figure moving through the bushes and hear the sounds of hooves treading on the ground. Your heart pounds with dread. Your legs feel like lead, aching with exhaustion, and even if they could still move, there was no way you could outrun a horse.

"Please, come out. I mean no harm."

The figure comes forward, emerging from the shadows, and into the flickering light of the torches. You realize the sounds were not from a horse. Instead, they belong to one of the centaurs guarding this part of the forest. The chase drove you far from your home, leading you into the dense forest of the beast-men.

You slowly crawl out from the hollow tree, the silence of the forest amplifying every creak and groan of the branches beneath you. You eye the centaur with every bit of caution. Even though he saved you, and there has never been enmity between your kind and his, you cannot trust a stranger, especially one that looks half a human male and half a savaged beast.

"You don't speak the tongue of man?"

You do not understand what the centaur is saying, but you can at least tell there is no hostility in his voice. So you remain still, waiting for his next move. Your eyes are glued to him as your heart thumps loudly in your chest.

He lowers his equine body into a kneeling posture, his muscular legs folding gracefully, to reassure you he is not a threat. Then, his hand reaches out, his fingers gently closing around your ankle in a reassuring squeeze. He carefully assesses your injuries, ensuring his fingers never brush against the open cuts.

"Thank the gods you didn't sprain your ankle, but your feet are still bleeding. Let's get you out of here before more humans come."

As soon as you feel his touch on your skin, thoughts flow into your mind. His genuine intention is apparent, and you can almost feel a sliver of his emotions. It's warm, like a mother's tender embrace, a comforting river enveloping you, yet with an untamed wildness that you have never experienced.

His powerful arms close around you, one supporting your trembling form, the other gently cradling your knees, as he effortlessly lifts you into his broad chest. Feeling safer in his grasp, you cling to him for support, letting the centaur carry you away into the dark.

You think to yourself as you watch his eyelashes flicker in the dim light; they are so long and beautiful, like that of a cow. The short, bristly hairs on his face catch your eye, sparking a bit of curiosity. Mother had said only men grow hair on their faces. His enigmatic charm held you spellbound, making it impossible to look away.

The centaur, unaware of your gaze, moved silently between the trees, the rustle of his hooves the only sound disturbing the forest's silence.

"If the humans purposely chased you away from the river, they might have set up traps in case you try to find your way back. So we must take the long path around the hills to avoid them."

Though his words are a jumble of unfamiliar sounds, his voice has a calming effect, easing your fear-struck mind.

The hands holding you are firm and secure, keeping the sharp branches away from you as he treads through the forest like tracing lines in the palm of his hand. The exhaustion washes over you as you nestle against his chest, his steady breathing comforting you.

The centaur knows that your kind can pick up on the emotions of others through touch, but he is unsure how much you can actually perceive. So he tries to focus on getting you to safety, hoping to suppress his deepest desire enough that it will not disturb you. Never in his life could he imagine being this close to you, let alone being allowed to touch you like this.

For the longest time, he was content with watching you from a distance. He often came by the river where you and your sisters bathe at the heat of noon, shielding himself behind the trees, for the nymphs would vanish at the sight of anything resembling a man. The centaur would spend hours gazing at your naked form as you rest on the mossy stones, eyes unable to tear away from the contour of your body.

He never asked for more, never dared. Seeing you every day was enough to soothe his aching heart.

The goddess' cry for her daughter stirred all the creatures in the forest this morning, including his herd. He raced down to the river bank, every instinct urging him to find out what was going on. He couldn't stand the thought of something terrible happening to you, his mind and soul reeling at the thought.

His heart sank as he scanned the faces of your sisters, unable to find the one he sought.

The human footprints in the dirt, still damp and fresh, guided him along the trail until he found you, fortunately, in the domain of the centaurs.

The gods knew how much he wanted to trample those despicable men, to pulverize their flesh and bones under his hooves, making them pay for thinking they could defile you with their filthy hands. He would have gouged out their eyes, ripped out their tongues, leaving them to suffer a slow, agonizing death, but he held back, wishing to spare you the gruesome sight.

He wouldn't want to frighten you anymore than you already are.

The gentle rocking with each step, the earthy scent of crushed grass, and the warmth of the centaur's embrace lull you into a deep sleep. His chest rises and falls with each breath, and you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your ear. It reminds you of the sun's warmth on an afternoon you would spend with your sisters, coming to the shore to pick flowers and watch little creatures foraging.

After some time has passed, you are roused from your slumber by the feeling of the centaur lowering you down on a patch of soft moss. You open your eyes, blinking against whatever light the stars can provide, and see that he has carried you to a small cave, the scent of damp earth filling your nostrils.

The remnants of sleep linger for a moment, but your senses start to fully return.

The memory of being chased by the humans is still fresh in your mind and your body tenses in reaction. He notices your discomfort and kneels down to meet your eyes.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said, his voice low and gentle.

"Please do not be afraid. You need rest, and I need to find something to treat your wound. The humans will not be looking for you this deep into the forest."

You feel his gentle hand stroking your hair and your cheeks. As he drapes his fur cloak around you, the scent of wood smoke and wild musk settles over you, and you feel your fear melt away. He leaves the cave to confirm there are no predators nearby and to allow you some rest.

Time seems to slip away, and when the centaur finally returns, his hooves thudding lightly on the ground as he carries a handful of fragrant herbs with him.

He carefully cradles your feet in his hands, and you can feel the heat of his palms as he works meticulously to treat your wound. The centaur scoops cool water from a nearby creek, gently washing your wounds and soothing the pain. He then secures a clean cloth tightly around them, stopping the flow of blood.

You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, indicating that you are thankful for what he has done for you.

The centaur glances at you, his eyes briefly meeting yours, before he averts them with a hint of shyness. He is not used to being this close to you. He was in a hurry when he carried you here, so he only had enough time to take in a glimpse of you.

He is relieved to see you safe. And now, as his eyes scan your form, he can't help but notice the graceful curves of your body, the very same ones that has haunted his sleep for so many nights. He remembers the times you would appear in his dreams, bare and soft, lazing in his arms, humming your alluring songs.

In those nightly delusions, you would allow him to kiss and caress you, to worship you like his own goddess. Mouth would taste your burning skin, and hands would knead your yielding flesh.

Yet as you sit in front of him now, in person, he feels filthy and unworthy.

His kind has always been wild and violent. Sure, he has shamelessly begged for a favor from Aphrodite. But he was sure the Goddess of Beauty shuns creatures like him.

A delicate touch on the centaur's cheek, soft as a butterfly's wing, pulled him from the depths of his self-loathing. He looks up to see your captivating eyes filled with concern. You must have felt his anguish even though you do not understand what or why.

"Are you trying to comfort me?"

A bitter laugh escapes the centaur's lips. He wants to avoid you, but he cannot. He becomes greedy for your touch, driven by the longing for your affection, even if you are just worried about him because he saved you.

The sorrow you felt begins to fade, replaced by a quiet peace. It's maddening, this inability to communicate with the centaur. You want to thank him and ask him about so many things. But alas, you can only "talk" through gestures and listen to his little thoughts whenever you touch him.

Thank you.

You tell the centaur, hoping he can understand. He seems shocked that you are willing to speak to him.

Your voice fills his head with the most beautiful melody he has ever heard in his life. He would gladly follow, even if you commanded him to plunge into the depths of the underworld or to slay a mighty god. He wants to tell you how much he adores you. His mouth opens and shuts, but no words come out.

"I… Don't worry about me. You must rest. We need to leave in the morning."

After a few words, he fixes the cloak that has slipped off your shoulders before guiding you onto the moss layer. You understand he wants you to sleep.

You shiver in the freezing cold of night, tapping the space next to you, signaling that he is invited to sleep beside you. It will be warmer that way. The centaur's mind wrestles with his heart, reason clashing with desire. The internal struggle is quite clear.

Eventually, he sighs and surrenders. His equine body lowers until he gets into a position where his human half can lie down.

You move your mouth to utter a word, hoping he will understand. Your name. He looks on with disbelief, then delights. He takes your hand and presses it against his chest, letting you feel the raw, beating pulse of his heart beneath his ribs.

"Jacob."

Jake.

"It's Jacob."

Jake.

"It's… Never mind. Jake it is."

You repeat his name, earning a wide grin from him. He does not seem to mind that you decide to shorten his name. Actually, he looks a little too eager, practically bursting with excitement.

He pauses to indulge in the way you look at him before whispering in a hushed voice, not worrying that you do not comprehend his words.

"I swear on my own flesh and blood, I'll let nothing harm you."

The centaur wraps you in his arms. His initial reluctant fades away. When your steady breathing and a slight smile reassure him he did not repulse you, he pulls you into a tight embrace, silently praising Aphrodite and her miracle.

While he knows he is asking for too much, he wishes Eros would spare him from the coarse and unsavory thoughts that were forming in his mind. The golden arrow was painful enough.

The night goes by as you rest snuggly against the centaur's broad chest. You drift off into a sweet dream, comforted by the gentle embrace.

His thoughts are so tender. Though there is something else, deeper, darker, and far more primal. But you are too exhausted to notice.

#jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #centaur!jake x nymph!reader #cw: rpf #nat writes #fic: naiad #fics

11 notes · View notes

aonungyoufuck · 2 years ago

Note

can i request something where a sully!reader overhears lo’ak complaining/talking shit abt her to tsireya and she becomes distant and upset. thr aonung also overhears and picks on her abt it? then lo’ak “comes to the resvur” but the reader bursts in front of him

Enough

Fem Sully!Reader

Warnings: Just angst. Maybe some self loathe here and there

Thank you Anon for submitting your request. I hope i did you justice and that you enjoy it! I kinda made up the ending since i didnt know if you wanted to be like a fluff end or still angst? So perhaps angst

You had been having a normal day. It was more of the usual Training and trying to form your ways into the life at the sea.

And you hadn't meant for yourself to eavesdrop. It just happened. You had the best relationship with Lo'ak and you thought it was also returned. Two trouble makers trying to make sense in the hierarchy that was your family.

"I just dont get it Tsireya. Its just i do care about Y/n i do. But i would like some time for myself. Its just annoying having to constantly have her loom over me."

"Lo'ak.."

"I just wish sometimes that i could tell her to leave me alone. But she'll stick to me like an unwanted curse"

You could feel the lump on your throat form. Breathing felt painful and you hadn't known why. Was it the hurt or the betrayal? You couldn't really tell.

"But you dont mean that"

"i do! I do Care about my family as i am sure everyone else does! But its annoying to have a constant shadow behind me. Sometimes i wish that she ..she wasn't my sister"

"Lo'ak!"

You didnt even bother to hear the rest. Couldn't even dare. You were hurt. Possibly more to know that this is how Lo'ak felt. And how long exactly? How long had he been coward enough not to tell you face to face. You just couldn't do it. You wouldn't do it. And you were unaware of the pair of eyes that watched you go.

____________________

If Lo'ak had noticed your absence. He hadn't voiced it. You had done your best to avoid being around him as much as possible. And it had been noticeable to the others.

To anyone that had eyes and ears. Your once upbeat but brash personality had dimmed. You avoided Lo'ak as much as possibly taking the time to hang with Neteyam or even Kiri. It had been nice to, really. You didnt know them as much as you knew Lo'ak but even they knew that something was up. The two of you were trouble one and two.

So The lack of the two being in 'good' speaking terms was the biggest thing to have happened since Jake called himself Toruk Makto

"What is wrong?" you would constantly hear Neteyam ask you and yet you brushed him off.

Everything was perfectly fine. It had to be. So you wouldn't be too much of an annoyance.

"How the mighty have fallen"

You dreaded that voice. You hadn't exactly known that Ao'nung had heard Lo'ak's complaints but he did. And he was like a plague repeating the same stuff over and over again.

"Ao'nung. What ever do you mean?" Neteyam would unfortunately ask before you can divert attention from him.

"Talking about Y/n here. Once not long ago would have bitten my head off and now look at her"

He was right. Without Lo'ak to bounce off of. You no longer had any bite to your threats.

"This little nuisance Has really fallen"

"Do not call her that"

"oh but it wasn't me who did. Now was it Y/n?"

You wanted to gag. Wanted to have Eywa take you now and never let you see the light of day.

"no...it wasn't"

Neteyam just watched your face drop. Finally piecing it together. "oh ill go talk to him"

"no! i dont want that Neteyam. I dont want anything to do with him as he doesn't want anything to do with me"

"makes him sick. Like an unwanted curse" Ao'nung had commented back.

You could only bite back your tears.

---------------------------------------

From that point on. You had endured the negative feeling any time you saw Lo'ak make an attempt at talking with you. You had endured Ao'nung torture.

And it was a peaceful night before you heard Ao'nungs laugh behind you. You didnt even process him. Not that you cared enough.

Not anymore.

So long in thought and watching the waves go by that you hadn't realized Lo'ak Was here. Standing up for you.

No. You didnt need him.

" I dont need you to fight my battles you know?"

"I cant sit here and watch him berate you like this!"

"Thats rich coming from you!"

You couldnt hold it in anymore. Nothing in your body wanted more than to make him hear you. Make him see you for what you were.

"as i recall i was always "like an unwanted curse"

you could see him mentally slap himself. Throw in a shit as he finally understood why you've been so...standoffish around him.

"i dont need you in this moment to fight for me"

"Listen Y/n, i was-"

"I dont care! I dont care okay? What ever it was that made you hate me. Whatever it was that made you despise me i dont care!" You finally broke. You didnt care who stood and watched. You certainly couldn't bat an eye at Ao'nung who was watching this entire thing.

" I have spend my entire life doing and saying the things you want me to say to please The people around us. To please Dad and mom. To make Neteyam get off our back to cover for the mess you always make"

You couldn't care to voice your words nicely. You had enough.

"i've had about Enough of Always following in your shadow! Ive had it with always having to Take the fall with you when i only wanted to spend time with you without nearly dying or getting someone injured. there are not enough words to voice the pain i felt when you said you had enough of me. When i never been enough for our Father."

You choke on a sob wiping your eyes

"and I'm not going to sit by and not be enough for you!"

And you wouldn't be enough. But you were enough for yourself. And that would be okay. And Lo'ak had all the time in the world to make it up to you.

you didn't know how or when or what he would do. But That was enough for today

#avatar the way of water #atwow angst #atwow headcanons #lo'ak angst #Lo'ak #lo'ak x reader #but like siblings?#Ao'nung #neteyam #lo'ak sully #avatar loak #atwow imagines #atwow x reader

264 notes · View notes

jaays-moon · 10 months ago

Text

ghostbusters👻☎

heeseung x reader (afab) genre: friends to lovers, conducting a seance, spooOooky, friends having fun!! synopsis: what is better than a sleepover after the dreadful exams? a game of calling ghosts at a sleepover! where y/n and her friends play the game of seance with candles. word count: 2.6K 🖤🖤 DISCLAIMER‼️ i do not intend make fun of the practice or anyone who believes in such things. this story is purely for entertainment. continue reading....༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

"dude we are still having the sleepover right?" hearing heeseung's voice over the phone was just the moral boost i needed to protect myself from the eventual bed rot.

"yeah... we do, don't we..." however, nothing could stop me from the self-loathing that ensued after our exam results were published.

"y/n are you still sad about your grades? dude... you literally topped the class. so what jay beat you to rank 1, you know that nerdball is always trying to one up you."

ha...was it that evident in my voice "no, haha no its... ugh you know what, yeah i am upset. LIKE HE LITERALLY TOLD ME HE DIDN'T DO WELL IN PHYSICS, BUT THAT HOE??? this is why i hate toppers."

"oh? is it so?"

JAY??? what- omg did hee just put me on a three way call??

"HEE?" what is this guy doing. gosh way to go. he sure does know how to put me on the spot!

"no bestie it is I. the topper. you know you should actually let me know how crude your true intent is. and here i thought you were a friend."

"oh well good cause i can't be friends with LIARS! i wasn't the one who pretended to not know about the exam and then proceed to get an A! that is actually being an asshole. also that you never told me about getting tutored by jake."

"wait what you were getting tutored by jake? is this how you steal peoples friends jay?"

"WHAT? NO I DIDN'T? THAT LIL SHIT HAS BEEN TELLING EVERYONE THAT? JAKE-"

*the line cuts and the doorbell rings*

who could that be?

"hee?" "yes? who else? its time for the sleepover girl?"

"its 7 o' clock in the evening heeseung, who comes this early anyways-" i mean how does it even matter to scold him cause either ways, he barges into the house.

"well technically i do live here. its like my second home. do you need to take permission to enter your own house love?" of course. the only reason why i am friends with hee. he is unapologetically himself. it puts me at ease to have a person who thinks of me so dearly. or thinks of my home so dearly...

"ok fyi i also sent the invite in the gc"

"oh i know, jay is on the way with jake, maybe after he beats him up tho."

i chuckle at the thought of those two bickering. obviously jake hadn't told me anything about tutoring. it was just fun to watch them bicker after all! "and for you, i also invited leah over." a wicked grin decorates my face as i watch hee's jaw drop and eyes go wide in horror.

"Y/N??? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO what? why? how could you do this to me? YOU ARE VERY AWARE OF HOW CLINGY SHE IS WITH ME. she is like obsessed with me or something! please no y/n. i am so sorry!! Y/N"

"hee be nice! she is my friend! and everyone has tiny crushes. she just likes you a bit. as the good friend that i am, i am just helping her out! she also has something planned for the night. she was recommending some game? i don't know."

*bell rings*

"i guess that must be the two actual friends of mine. the ones who TRULY care for me!" i chuckle as i approach the door.

however nobody stands as i open the door. i look outside to check my surroundings but it is as quiet as a night full of mysteries could be. the sudden noise of thunder fills the ambience as it starts pouring heavily. i shriek as i run back into the house, locking the door. "hee...?" i look over the kitchen counter, the sofa, and knock on the bathroom doors he doesn't respond. "ugh where did this kid go? hee, hees- AHHHHHH!

something black just covers my eyes from the back as a scream for my life. "geez, if you didn't know how to defend yourself, you sure can make a serial killer go deaf. you know you should audition for those roles of screamers in the slasher thrillers."

"HEESEUNG! NOT FUNNY. I WAS SO SCARED!" "aww pookie was scared" "ew-" but his warm hug makes up for it. as the cold from the rain starts creeping into the room, heeseung offers me his jacket.

"what about you?" "don't worry. you will be warm and smell nice in it." he adds on with a wink. this guy. my laughs cover how blown out my pupils look. it isn't fair. how he gets to have this effect on me. i mean we are friends but moments like these, make me question otherwise. why can't i reciprocate the flirtations? why am i defeated dumb by this gorgeous guy?

"ok leah justed texted me. jay is picking her up" "you text leah?" "sometimes, when i think my charm is wearing off." "you are such an asshole! i am going to tell her." "no you won't." "and why is that?" "cause you care about me. cause, you like me." a grin of victory. i wave my hand to dismiss the words thrown out in air. is it that simple for him?

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

our boisterous laugh fills my apartment. if it weren't for these people i genuinely wouldn't make it through college. but as we talk, as we laugh, heeseung keeps falling all over me.

"HEESEUNG WHY DO YOU HAVE A SERIOUS CASE OF IJBOLITIS YOU WILL SQUISH Y/N." jay's boisterous accusation fills the room when jake ends up becoming a water fountain spitting out the cola he was drinking. "omg y'all!! now i need to get tissues" shaking my head isn't enough for the amount of chaos these people cause.

was i saying something about them saving me throughout college? never mind that, it is in direct proportion to the headache they give me. stealing glance from hee i move towards the kitchen "y/n could you also get...um..five! yes five candles!" "candles? for what leah?" "remember?! i told you we have to play a game. i mean we are done watching a movie. it is raining outside. IT IS 3 AM! this is the perfect time to have a seance!" "ah what now?"

"a seance jake. wouldn't have expected you to know however." "please do explain jAy. wHat is a sEanCe"

"well you see in ancient times-"

"it is a ghost calling game!"

"it is NOT a game leahhh." wow... i have never seen jay pout?

"wellllllll none of us are mediums."

"what would you know baby i could be a medium?"

"BABY??" "BABY?" "you both-"

"what y/n? as if you aren't hiding something?! *giggling* you and hee... aren't you also dating? you may not tell your dear friend-"

"what? no no you have it wrong leah. y/n and i. i would never date her. we can never date. we are friends. right y/n? y/n-"

i rush to the kitchen as soon as possible. i have nothing to do with that conversation. i should have known. it was just heeseung being heeseung. he is just nice to everyone. it shouldn't mean anything that the way he looks at me is any different. it was just my perception. it was my fault i thought that heeseung could love me any more than a friend. it should have been me who answered that. of course. like he said we could never date. why would he date me. why would i date him. why am i hurt-

"y/n? why did you leave like that?"

as i feel my throat burning at the familiar sound. my eyes are about to spill the truth. "didn't leah ask to get the candles though? why are you worried." as i shove past him in my annoyance which almost turned into guilt. reaching up to open the cabinet heeseung comes closer, hovering over me to reach the matchbox. "y/n" oh i know that timbre of his voice. the low, soothing tone, prying to know if i am hurt. i am not. definitely. "what?" "i am supposed to ask you that. i know you have something on your mind. i mean i know you were trying to set me up with your friend-" oh. he wasn't even thinking about me. good lord. this is pathetic. i am pathetic. "no i wasn't worried about that. matter of fact i wasn't worried at all. first you three way call jay to "prank" me. and now you think i am unlovable. pick a side lee heeseung. do you even care or not."

"woah. government name... if i didn't know you better, i would say you are mad right now." "that is the point heeseung. you don't. know. me." "baby-" "DO NOT CALL ME THAT!" as i push him back to the kitchen island i feel his round eyes on me filled with concern and guilt. i am unable to pull him back before he bumps into the glass as it shatters to the floor.

"ayo? what happened-" jake's concerned voice broke both of us from the intense glare we shared.

"DID THE GLASS JUST BREAK? LEAH BABY! ISN'T THIS A BAD OMEN. WE SHOULDN'T BE DOING THIS!" "jay.... baby relax it didn't fall on it's own."

"ew, get a room." leah rolls her eyes as she speaks "i guess heeseung bumped into it. right?" "yeah. that is exactly what happened."

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

"so that is basically it. we hold each other's hands and ask if any spirit is out there who wants to contact us. and i know how hard it is for us to remain silent, calm and composed we HAVE to. the candles will flicker and we can then start asking questions! only ask yes or no questions. also, no questions about death, money or future! ok y/n babe light the candles in the center please!!"

as leah instructs all of us we get into position. i immediately scurried next to leah's side and held her hand as we all sat down. i could sense heeseung's intense stare on me but for the sake of my sanity, i choose to ignore him like all my problems in life. didn't know he would someday fall on that list. am i being dramatic? maybe. i am just a girl! 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎀

"wow that is cool and everything but, sorry y/n i don't want to hold sweaty ass palms?" "excuse ME-" "i said what i said!" jake dashes of to sit next to jay who was happily seated next to his gf. this jake had one job. heeseung awkwardly shifts to sit next to me. my hands go cold with the tight feeling in the pit of my stomach. i try to be extremely nonchalant about it. but in the shuffle i almost skid on the stupid floor which makes him snort. i look up to squint at him but it elicits only a response of a smirk from him. oh.

"oh also if the candle assigned to each of us flickers then it is a yes and if all the candles remain still. well, a no." "aw babeee you are learning so well!" "the best is teaching me" as jay shoots a wink at his partner we all physically groan with jake audibly gagging. well this is going to be fun...

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

as the rounds went by the questions became stupider. you would think that all of us had a collective braincell count of negative 5.

"am I the smartest in this group"

" *cough* nO *cough* "

"shut up jake!"

"whaaaat it wasn't me :("

this is what i missed the most, laughing, having fun with your friends. i also long back started to feel at ease with hee's warm hands melting into mine. i had gone overboard with my feelings and it wasn't fair to hee or me... i just had made assumptions. i wished to clear the air. as my other friends continued to bicker i turned towards hee.

"hee...i am sorry for pushing you earlier. i just... it did sting when you said you would NEVER date me. i mean i am not that bad of a person am i" i laugh trying to cover the underlying connotations of my ask. " *chuckles* im sorry y/n. it was actually on me that i assumed you would be averse to dating ME. i mean who would want to date their friends, right?" his response caught me off guard so did his tone. he ended the question with some unsaid hope. i tried to decipher what he meant while trying to study his eyes. his eyes were locked into mine the similar way. trying to uncover the surface and delve deeper.

"i guess there are two other love birds here!" leah's voice broke us from a trance like state. " ahha leah. so its my turn? ok i would like to ask whether i will be rich- "HEE DO YOU WANT TO DIE LEAH JUST SAID NO QUESTIONS ABOUT MONEY!!!" " well...if it means it will be in your arms-"

"ohh my godddddd"

"i think i just barfed in my mouth-"

"YOU are actually the perpetrator of such CRIME!"

"EXCUSE ME-"

no amount of eye rolls can save the redness that creeps into my face. this guy- but this time i try to play along. "well why are you trying to be like romeo-juliet, when we can be hee-y/n alive and happy." i add on a wink feeling extra feisty.

the silence which fills the room could be cut through with a knife. i was about to back track when hee's jaw dropped like never before and a howling laughter ensued.

"oh heeseung she DEVOURED YOU SO BAD!!"

"damn y/n should flirt more often!!"

hee was just as dumbfounded as i was at my response.

"oh yeah? are you sure y/n. don't make promises you can't keep." his voice dropped to a soothing volume. his head tilted with the slightest smolder in his eyes. not to overpowering. just enough to hypnotize, mesmerize. as he turned towards the the candle circle his voice become bold and clear.

"dear spirit just y/n like me?" is he for real!!?? did he just ask that in front of... at that moment it felt as all the air in the room had left. a chill ran through my spine. i could see my friends start to feel uneasy as it seemed something, or someBODY else had joined our little gathering. i could see leah's face drop as she held my hand's tighter than usual. even jake and jay feel completely silent with the ambience in the air which dropped the temperature.

" ok... um so heeseung your candle isn't flickering-"

"but baby look... y/n's candle is flickering."

it felt like time had stopped. the room felt eerily filled with various other auras. feeling intensified. the tension was rising. as if as an instinct i held onto hee's hand tighter than before. from my periphery i noticed him glance towards me. he reciprocated.

"ok that is enough, thank you spirit for joining us." leah broke the tension as she blew out the candles and all of us sighed. as if everyone was holding their breathe expecting the worse.

all of us looked at each other. "ok... well the spirit didn't have to expose me like that..." everyone started giggling. this experience was something else.

"so you do like me?"

"well we all knew that before you two idiots knew."

"for once I agree with jake. you both are so blind, imagine, a LITERAL SPIRIT had to come and expose y'all."

"wellll THIS WAS FUN. and, i beg you y/n. NEVER second guess MY intuition. mwah mwah. you both are soooo adorbs!!"

and all i and hee could do in laugh and fall in for each other all over again.

omg this was long af😭😭 i had so many doubts and second thoughts with this buttttt, i hope you like it‼️‼️ please do show support and love by reblogging🖤and sending in asks in the mailbox💌thank you ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

45 notes · View notes

ronn-uuu · 2 years ago

Text

Stay up for me?

I made a part 2 for y’all bitches!! 😁 I hope you y’all enjoy!! 🫶🏾

|Part 1|

Summary: It’s been 4 weeks since the music incident with Steven. You’ve been trying to talk to your neighbor(s) to befriend ‘him’ but he’s never there. One day you hear him through the walls one night and decide this is your chance.

Pairing: Marc x Reader (heavily), Steven x reader and Jake x reader.

You were laying on your bed with your phone in hand reading some random stuff (like you are now.) trying to cure some sort of boredom or need inside of your chest. Your mind wondered onto the neighbor, the one you met about a month ago, you kinda wanted to see him again. Your attempts to talk to him always failed. He was never home and when he was you were out. One time you passed him without realizing it, he was leaving and you were heading to your Flat. You walked right past him no words at all. You didn’t realize he might be your neighbor until you were trying to fall asleep.

You huffed in embarrassment, you really missed your chance and you don’t know when—

Muffled speaking cut your self loathing. You looked at the wall next your bed, waiting to see if you were just hearing things.

“We need to talk to Khonshu about these hell of hours, yeah?” Muffled through the thin wall. It took you 5 seconds to hop off your bed put some pants on, slip your fluffy boots on, and clean yourself up in the mirror. It was embarrassing how quickly you changed emotions, your looks and self esteem just for a guy who knocked on your door a month ago. Though you didn’t care, you wanted to finally speak to him. The very pretty Steven Grant was home and you just had to shoot your horrible shot.

You closed your front door and walked next door. Your heart was going so fast and I you were literally beaming, like a kid who just got praised for something. You knocked softly after fixing your hair one last time.

Marc was currently in control, he got them home and cleaned them up. The month after meeting you was full of them running around meeting up with Layla, protecting people, artifacts, and people. Their sleep schedule was totally fucked, once steven finally fell asleep and in the same minute Jake woke up and went out to go fight crime. They had an altar meeting after waking in a dark alley bloody, bruised and still in the suit.

Marc sighs as he feeds Gus 2.0 since Steven will never let Marc get away will killing the original Gus. Just when he was beginning to start his horrendous sulking he heard a knock.

“Who could be awake at this hour?” Steven questioned.

“Who knows,” Jake replied. Marc walked towards the door and opened it. None of them would have thought it would be the pretty neighbor from next door, Marc should have given the body to Steven but Marc didn’t give him an ounce of control. His eyes racked over your frame. You looked so snug in that fluffy faux fur jacket and those fluffy boots, he couldn’t help but think you looked cute.

“Hey Steven!” You exclaimed. You were excited to meet him again but hearing a name that wasn’t his but his altar’s made him jealous.

“Hey, it’s been awhile,” Marc says. You notice his accent was American, his features were more rougher, and he stood more confident than when you last saw him. Maybe it’s because last time you saw him, he was tired. But he changes accents when he’s tired…?? You shoved the thought of it down. Maybe he’ll tell you one day.

“Yes it has. I’ve been trying reach you for a while,” you admitted. Marc smiled, you we’re trying to reach them and it won't be the first and definitely not last time he cursed khonshu. He could have been spending his time with you but he knew deep down that lives would have lost so he kept the cures to a minimum.

“Really?” Marc smuggly asked. Steven was partying in their mind., their neighbor literally sought for them after the music incident. This was the close he got for someone showing interest in him. Jake praised him for it too.

“Yes, steven,” you said as you playfully roll your eyes. Marc would be lying if he didn’t say ant to tell you everything… First with his DiD. That he was Marc Spector and not Steven, but one thing held him back. Rejection. If you reject him even the slightest about his identity he’ll never feel alive again. His mind is already ‘broken’ enough.

"I should have asked this when I knocked on your door. What's your name, sweetheart?" Marc asked looking down at you. You smiled and told him your name before he parriot it back to you with such softness, like it was a delicate flower. Your eyes soften towards him, if he keeps saying your name like that you'll never let him go. Their mind was filled with steven and Jake repeating it.

“Hey I’m thinking of getting a late night snack… want to come?” You ask and ‘steven’ nods. You smiled widely that would have your cheek bones hurting for a bit.

#steven grant #moonknight system x reader #moonknight system #marc spector #marc spector fic #steven grant fic #steven grant x reader #moonknight fanfiction #moonknight fluff #moonknight fic #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #jake lockely fluff #moonkight #baby giiiirl #i fucking love them so much #raahhhhh #RAAHHHHHHHHH

122 notes · View notes

goldenseresinretriever · 6 months ago

Text

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 19

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, violence, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, eventual smut, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, You Catch More Bees With Honey. It was originally posted in November-March 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Your head feels heavy like it’s filled with cotton. You didn’t expect to cry this much and yet it’s all you’ve managed to do for the last forty-eight hours. When your mom died you hadn’t cried. Instead, you’d been numb, locking the world out and hiding away behind vacant eyes as you struggled to come to terms with your new reality. Now you’re not sure how you’re not cried out yet. You’re tangled in the sheets of the bed in one of Mickey and Bob’s spare bedrooms. Mickey doesn’t leave your side very often except when the doorbell rings every few hours when Bradley tries to talk to you again. He’s been consistent in his attempts to see you, but with the three occupants of the house standing between the two of you, he’d been unsuccessful thus far. Mickey’s downstairs with him right now from the sound of Mickey’s raised voice. Mickey had transformed into a version of himself you haven’t seen often in your ten years of friendship. He’s cold and fiercely protective, a rock for you to lean on while full of self-loathing for his inability to protect you from the hurt you’re feeling.

He blames himself. You’ve assured him that it’s not his fault but he refuses to see sense. In his mind, if he’d just intervened sooner you’d never have wasted your time falling for Bradley and a part of your heart is bitter with resentment. Because you don’t regret it. Not yet at least. You don’t regret the time you spent being loved by Bradley Bradshaw. He healed parts of you that had been infected with grief for years and for that, you’ll always be thankful. More than that, he taught you what romantic love could really be like, and while you’re certain he’s raised your standards a completely unrealistic amount you don’t have it in you to dwell on it quite yet. Instead, you play the scene from two nights ago over and over in your head.

You try to figure out where it went wrong. The face-off had started out normally, the setup was like muscle memory for these players and then Bradley had lunged for the center across from Jake. When his fist connected with the other man’s face, his teammates had cried out in protest before a defenseman to his left dove for Bradley. He never made contact as Jake intercepted him with an uppercut to the jaw. The ice devolved into chaos then, all twelve players on the ice, goalies included, joined the fray and a full-scale brawl erupted. The refs’ whistles pierced your ears as you watched in horror as your boyfriend ferociously beat into the Bruin’s center who wasn’t even bothering to fight back. If you didn’t know better you’d think you saw him laughing in response. Halfway through, Bradley dragged him up by the collar and you recognized the name on his jersey.

Elias Whitmore was a drunken mistake. You’d partied a little too hard that night with the Icemen and you’d run into him at the club where you’d spent the night drinking and dancing. You hadn’t recognized him in your drunken state and when it was over and you’d realized who he was you’d felt disgusted for falling into bed with the notorious womanizer. That was a few years ago and you hadn’t followed Whitmore’s career enough to know he’d be on the ice tonight. You’d be surprised if he even remembered you, his dating history was even more impressive than Javy’s and that’s saying something.

The voices from downstairs get louder and your heart clenches in worry. Bradley wouldn’t get violent with Mickey, would he? Fear grips you, propelling you out of the bed and to the door, ear pressed against the wood in a desperate attempt to assess the severity of the situation without venturing past the threshold you haven’t crossed since you showed up at the house a day and a half ago after Dare sent you home. You hear a muffled shout and then heavy footfalls on the stairs and your breath catches, and then you stumble back from the door just in time for it to fly open. You blink stupidly as a man barrels through the door but it’s not Bradley. Javy’s face is a twist of quiet rage as he inspects you, chest rising and falling heavily as equally hurried footsteps echo his arrival, and then Mickey’s behind him, face twisted into cold disapproval as something hotter flickers behind his brown eyes.

“Hey sweetheart, how’re you holding up?” Javy’s voice is soft and gentle, a stark contrast to his expression. You don’t get the chance to respond to his question before Mickey interrupts.

“I’m gonna give you five minutes to get the fuck out of my house.” Your eyes widen at the firmness in his tone, turning to try and placate your best friend.

“Mickey, what’s going on? This is Javy we’re talking about? Why don’t you want him here?” Mickey doesn’t answer, wrapping a protective arm around you instead, pulling you against his chest. You go without question but feel unease in your stomach. Javy crosses his arms across his chest, glaring at Mickey.

“She deserves to know what’s going on, Mickey, you know that as much as I do.” Your brow furrows in confusion even as fear makes your stomach clench.

“Mickey what’s he talking-“ Mickey cuts you off even as he pulls you closer.

“She knows what’s going on. She made a decision, why can’t you respect it?” Javy snorts derisively.

“I’m not asking her to change her mind, I’m asking you to tell her what really happened out there so it’s an informed decision that she’s making.”

“Wait what happened?” You ask, increasingly irritated as your two friends talk about you like you’re not even there.

“Stay out of this, Machado, I’m not going to ask you again.”

“She’s my friend too,” Javy says, jaw hardening. “And treating her like a child just because you’re jealous that you’re not her first priority anymore is just plain childish.”

“Hey!” You snap and then both men are looking at you as you twist out of Mickey’s arms, stepping away so you can face both of them. “Which one of you is going to tell me what’s going on and stop treating me like I’m not here?” You set your hands on your hips, irritation dripping from your stance.

Javy nods at Mickey. “You need to hear it from him or it’s just going to cause issues between the two of you.” You nod firmly, turning to Mickey and defensively crossing your arms across your chest.

“Mickey, what's going on and why aren’t you telling me?” He has the sense to look guilty, the harshness in his brown eyes softening as he shakes his head slightly. He’s quiet for a long moment but when it becomes clear that you’re willing to wait as long as it takes he breathes out a heavy sigh before finally speaking up.

“Bradley didn’t start that fight for no reason,” Mickey says and you feel your breath catch in your throat. Javy places a comforting hand on your back, a steadying presence. “A Boston defenseman made a comment about you that wasn’t very appropriate,” he frowns deeply, fist clenching in anger at the memory. “Then the center chirped back, and said something else and that’s when Bradley lost it.” The room is silent for a long moment as you process this new information. “I don’t blame him either,” Mickey speaks up again. “None of us do. If he hadn’t started that fight, someone else would have. We all heard what they said.” When he speaks again, it’s quieter and you hear the bitter regret in his tone. “He was just the first one with the balls to stand up for you.” His fist clenches tighter and you understand then.

“Mickey,” you reach out for him but he steps back, out of your reach.

“That asshole was spewing all kinds of bullshit and I just stood there. After all these years, I just stood there and took it. Bradshaw came to his senses before I did and he hasn’t even known you for six months.” Your heart aches and you step up to Mickey, cupping his face in your hands.

“Mickey, Elias Whitmore was a drunken mistake that never should have happened, and I’m glad you hesitated. I wish you all had because he’s not worth it. Not worth sabotaging your career over and especially not over some offhand comments, even if they were about me.”

“You are, though,” Mickey says, voice cracking as his eyes fill with tears mirroring your own. “You’re worth fighting for. You always have been and you always will be. I’ve always known that, and everyone else knows now. I know I haven’t been Bradshaw’s biggest supporter but when he tackled that asshole, I understood. I knew he was capable of taking care of you and loving you the way you deserve.” You stroke his cheek gently even as your heart clenches. “I know I haven’t been fair to him, especially these last few days. Javy’s right in a way, it’s hard to watch him take up space in your life like that. In a way, I think maybe I have been jealous, no matter how stupid it sounds.” He chuckles before the worry is back on his face. “I don’t mean to ruin things between the two of you. I just,” he hesitates. “I feel like I just got you back when we moved to San Diego and I think I just expected things to go back to the way they used to be, but they won’t. And they shouldn’t. We’re six years older, we’ve changed and that’s not a bad thing. You deserve the whole world and you’ve got a guy that’s willing to give it to you. I don’t think he deserves you, because quite frankly, I don’t think anyone does, not even me, but you deserve him. He makes you so happy and he’s helped you heal in ways that I could never have.”

“Oh Mickey,” you whisper as tears cut down your cheeks. “Bradley’s important to me, and I love him, but I’m never going to stop loving you or needing you. You’ve been my best friend for almost a decade, I’m not going to abandon that just because I have a boyfriend,” your voice takes on a teasing lilt and he lets out a warm chuckle before pulling you into his arms.

“I love you, Zam.” He whispers and you whisper it back even as your heat is beating at its cage, desperate for Bradley. You need to clear things up with him. When Mickey breaks the hug, he sighs and tilts his head towards the door. “Go on, you have somewhere to be,” he says with a soft smile and you lean up to kiss his cheek before turning to Javy.

“Thank you, Javy.” He waves you off.

“Go get your man, sweetheart.” You smile through your tears at the familiar words and then you’re tearing down the stairs, grabbing your keys from the side table by the door, and taking off for your car.

***

When you pull up to the doors of Bradley’s apartment building, you hesitate as the attendant drives your car off to the garage. Tony gives you a warm smile that you return as you set off across the lobby, bouncing on your toes as you wait for the elevator to arrive. The ride up to Bradley’s floor seems to take forever but once the doors slide open you hesitate again. You’d been cold when you’d seen him last. You’d refused to hear him out that night at the stadium and you’d studiously ignored him in Ice’s office. Would he still want you? You don’t let yourself entertain an answer, crossing the hall quickly before you can lose your nerve. You take a sharp breath as you reach a hand up to ring the buzzer. You have keys but it doesn’t feel right to let yourself in when you locked him out. You wait as the buzzer rings, trying to stifle your nerves.

The door swings open and the breath is stolen from your lungs at the sight of Bradley. He looks like a wreck. The bags under his eyes tell you he hasn’t slept, his unruly curls sticking up every which way from running his hands through them. His brown eyes widen in surprise at the sight of you. “Honey?” His voice is rough and you don’t expect the next words out of his mouth. “Where are your shoes?” You glance down at that. You’re wearing an oversized Star Wars shirt that Mickey bought you back in college that you sleep in when you’re at his house, over a pair of sleep shorts. Your bare toes wink up at you, the glossy pink polish on them shining in the hallway lights.

“Oh,” you say, surprised by the discovery. “I guess I forgot them.” You look back up at Bradley and he shakes his head, opening the door wider.

“Come here, Honey.” You go willingly and Bradley takes your hand in his tentatively and you pad across the floors through his bedroom to the bathroom. Bradley guides you to sit on the edge of the tub as he starts running the water. He sits beside you, leaning down to grasp your ankle gently and guiding it under the water, washing your feet with a tenderness that doesn’t match the harsh way you’ve treated him over the past few days. He doesn’t push you to speak but you do anyway.

“Mickey told me what happened at the game, what you did. Or more why you did it. I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain yourself.” You keep your eyes trained on Bradley’s hands where he’s washing your feet. “And while I’m not happy that you did it, or that any of the guys got involved because that scum bag isn’t worth it-“

“But you are,” Bradley cuts you off and you look up to meet his honey eyes where they’re watching you. “You’ll always be worth it.” Your eyes pass over his face. It’s untouched despite the fact that he beat the absolute shit out of Elias Whitmore. You squirm under the intensity of his stare and words but manage to whisper your thanks. “You don’t have to thank me, Honey. I love you, that’s part of the package.” You smile then, softly gazing at him through your lashes.

“I love you too, Bear.” You watch him relax slightly and he brings your wet ankle to his lips, placing a delicate kiss to the damp skin. Your stomach chooses that moment to growl and you scowl down at it even as you laugh and Bradley gently guides your legs back over the side of the tub. He asks you to wait and crosses the bathroom to the linen closet retrieving a small towel and kneeling at your feet to dry them and suddenly you want to cry all over again. The idea of this man that you’ve pushed away over and over, still so eager to lay aside his pride and kneel before you in an act of service so extraneous and humble breaks your heart. You’re moving before you can stop yourself, joining him on the bath mat, memory foam sinking under your knees as you wrap your arms around this man who inexplicably loves you with his whole heart. His arms come around you to return the hug and your body relaxes instinctively, knowing it’s safe in his arms.

***

You swing your legs absently as you watch Bradley stir the pasta. He’s once again treating you to his mom’s recipe, but something tells you he’s craving the comfort more than wanting to feed you something he knows you love. Guilt gnaws at your chest as you twist your fingers in the fabric of your t-shirt. Sure you’d forgiven Bradley but a large part of you feels like you don’t deserve his instant acceptance and wholehearted affection. The silence that usually feels so comforting feels like it’s clawing its way down your throat and choking you. You don’t realize that Bradley’s turned back around until his fingers gently ease yours away from where you’re stretching the hem of your shirt and you let your eyes linger on his larger hands where they hold yours gently. Once again he doesn’t push you to speak but you feel the pressure on your lungs. When your tears splatter on your joined hands, Bradley removes a hand to tip your chin up so he can see your face and you crumple under the unjudging, concerned stare.

“Honey,” his voice is heartbreakingly gentle as you cry; he shifts his hand on your chin to cup your cheek and you lean into the warmth of his palm as the tears stream down your cheeks. You’re so tired of crying. “Talk to me, Honey. What’s going on?” He urges softly and the words fall out.

“I’m so sorry Bradley,” you sob and you watch his eyes widen in surprise.

“Sorry for what, Honey? You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he assures you as he leans in, gently kissing your tears away and it only makes you sob harder.

“For leaving you,” you sputter out between sobs. “For leaving you again, when I promised I wasn’t going to run anymore, and I did it anyway. I shut you out.” You watch the heartbreak in his eyes as he cups your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him as you blubber. His expression is hard and a familiar fire dances in his eyes, sending a chill down your spine.

“Don’t you dare apologize for that, Honey. I told you when we started this that I wanted you to set boundaries and that I’d respect them. I promised you no more fighting and I broke my word. That’s on me. You had every right to enforce that boundary and I’m so damn proud of you for sticking up for yourself, do you hear me?” You nod weakly as your tears taper off slowly. I’m sorry I broke my word, and I’m sorry it hurt you. I can’t promise it won’t happen again because I’m human, and sometimes I let my temper get the best of me but I’ll do my damndest to ensure it doesn’t. I love you and I never want to see you hurt, least of all because of me.” He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re the best good I’ve ever gotten, and as much as I don’t act like it, you’re the only thing that matters to me. You’re my family,” he smiles softly at that, running his thumb over your cheek absently. “There’s nothing I cherish more or treasure greater.”

You reach up to cup his cheek as well, his beard scratching against your palm as you stroke the skin. “You’re my family too,” you whisper, leaning in to ghost your lips over his, “and I’m so damn tired of running away from my family.”

“So stay,” Bradley whispers against your lips, lashes fluttering, fingers trembling on your cheeks ever so slightly like he’s afraid you won’t. You nod, just barely, brushing your nose against his as you speak your promise into that comfortable quiet between the two of you where you’re breathing in each other’s air as you consume each other’s space.

“I’ll stay.” Your lashes flutter shut at the weight of the words even as the tiniest kernels of doubt still tug at your heart. Your heart beats harder than the tug, though, beating with love for Bradley that will always be stronger than the doubt.

***

The next day at work, you’re all seated in a large space used for team lunches when everyone’s schedules occasionally overlap. You’re starving. Taking two days off of work to mope so close to the new year means you’re severely behind on your work. Breakfast in Bradley’s kitchen this morning feels a lifetime away. Cyclone had offered to order lunch today and you’ve heard whispers that it’s from the burger place around the corner. You enter the room, beelining for the seat next to Bradley that’s currently open. Your stomach lets out an unruly growl as you take your seat and Bradley gives you a concerned look that tells you he wants nothing more than to whisk you home to his kitchen. “It’s been a long morning, I’m just looking forward to this lunch.” You assure him and he’s temporarily placated. Cyclone comes in then, arms laden with bags that are indeed from the burger place. He starts handing things out and your stomach drops as your lunch is placed in front of you. Despair strikes your heart as your stomach cramps painfully as you regard your reflection in the clear plastic of the salad bowl. You look up from your pathetic excuse for lunch to see that everyone else seems to have burgers, multiple for the boys, including the other women on staff. Anger licks at your empty stomach, irritation furrowing your brow. Ever since Thanksgiving, while things have been slightly strained between you and Beau, he’s continued to dote on you. Fancy dinners, casual lunches, and various outings fill up whatever of your free time isn’t spent glued to Bradley’s side. You’ve never once ordered a salad and quite frankly you’re offended by the way he’s soloed you out. It’s like despite the fact that you’ve spent extensive time together, he’s made no effort to get to know you and you clench your fist as you fight off the anger that’s threatening to take over due to your hunger. You’re about to give Beau a piece of your mind then and there when a burger slides into your peripheral and you turn to see Bradley’s tight smile. He’s as unhappy about this as you are but the burger is his way of offering you solidarity while also taking care of you in the way he always does. You take the burger, returning his tense smile, devouring it before polishing it off with the salad that Cyclone hasn’t even noticed you snub, deep in conversation with Dare. Across the table, you meet Dragon’s eyes and she’s got a look of painful understanding on her face. You know what you need to do.

***

After lunch, once everyone’s returned to their respective parts of the arena, you ride the elevator up to Cyclone’s office. You cross the hallway to his office door, knocking in quick, sharp raps, entering when he calls for you to enter. He looks up from whatever he’s currently working on when you enter, surprise on his face.

“Zam, what a pleasant surprise. How can I help you?” You almost snort at the complete juxtaposition of his current sweet demeanor with the rude one he used to treat you to before he found out who your mother was.

“Beau, we need to talk.” You say tersely, a polite smile on your face and he motions for you to sit.

“Of course, Zam, what’s bothering you?”

“This needs to stop.” You say as firmly as you can hoping the desk between the two of you hides the way your hands are shaking. “I don’t know what you expect to gain from this pseudo-relationship that you’ve been attempting to form with me but I’m no longer comfortable with the turn that it’s taken.” Cyclone looks surprised.

“Zam, what on earth caused this change?” You do your best to keep your bubbling frustration in check.

“There hasn’t been a change, per se.” You say, careful to phrase this properly. Cyclone’s your boss after all and you don’t want to say anything that could jeopardize your career. “I haven’t been comfortable since the beginning but the longer it’s gone on, the less comfortable I’ve become. I should have clarified this from the beginning but I’m unsure as to what you’re trying to gain from this relationship. I’m your employee and while you were friends with my mother, she’s dead and I’m not her.” Cyclone takes a cheap breath and you almost feel bad for what you’re about to say but you plunge on. “I don’t know if you think I’m secretly your daughter but I want to tell you point-blank, I’m not. I have a father, both biologically and emotionally. I don’t know if you’re trying to treat me like your daughter but I’m not. I already have a father who loves me and fills that place in my life, I don’t need another one.” You feel your fingernails digging into your palms as you muster up the courage to speak your mind. You owe it to Dragon after all she’s done for you.

“You have a daughter too. If you want to be a father, she’s there waiting for you, and from what I know, she’s pretty great.” You sigh, heart heavy as you regard Cyclone even as he tenses up. “I don’t want this to affect our professional relationship, because I love this job, and I’m good at it,” you emphasize. Your mother had drilled into you the importance of knowing your worth, especially in the workplace. Cyclone nods slowly, considering your words even as you see the strain of his temper threatening to rear its ugly head. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder how your mother ever fell in love with him, but then you remember Bradley before you fell in love with him. Even the other day, the fire you’d seen in his eyes had sent ice through your veins against your better judgment.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention Zam, I’ll take it into consideration. I appreciate you entertaining my company for the last few months.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at Cyclone’s even tone. You stand to excuse yourself back to the mountain of work that you have waiting for you back in your office. Beau doesn’t try to stop you but speaks up as you’re about to exit his office. “Your mother would be very proud of the woman you’ve become.” Your stomach twists at the words and when you look back at him, for a moment you catch a glimpse of the dark-haired prince from your mother’s stories, the man she fell in love with and you wonder to yourself if there’s another lifetime where he grew up into something else.

You can’t stop the words falling from your lips. “She loved you, but she moved on. She’d want you to do the same.” His eyes widen in surprise but you don’t give him a chance to ask you anything before you’re disappearing down the hallway.

When you get back downstairs, you find Dragon waiting in your office. She gives you a tired smile when you sit down at your desk, before pushing a cookie across to you. You return the smile, taking the offering. Neither of you speaks as you eat the cookie silently. “I talked to him.” You say, breaking the silence finally. “For both of your sakes, I hope he does the right thing.” She snorts, and you watch pain flicker through her eyes as she stares off into space even as her lips twist into a cynical smirk.

“I appreciate it Zam, but if he was going to change, it would have happened by now.” You see it then, the exhaustion in the tight set of her shoulders. Atlas with the world on her back.

“Just because he won’t doesn’t mean you’re alone,” you say softly and she turns to look at you, surprise dancing in her expression. You shrug. “This team is a family, albeit a messy one, but we’re here for you when you need it. Bob too,” you add and you watch her cheeks heat as she averts her gaze. As confident as she appears with her relationship with the shy goalie outside of these walls, she’s still young and confused and you’re fondly reminded of yourself when you were her age.

She doesn’t answer, just giving you a terse nod and you slide the other half of the cookie back across the table before you turn to continue your work. You know you’re not getting more out of her right now but you extend the shoulder for her to lean on. Your family is growing every day, and now that you’ve opened that door, you’re eager to shepherd any stragglers into it.

#san diego dogfighters au #San Diego dogfighters #San Diego dogfighters hockey au #you catch more bees with honey // goldenseresinretriever #ycmbwh // goldenseresinretriever #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster x reader #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #top gun #TGM #no use of y/n

19 notes · View notes