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#just something about them all getting to be young and stupid and happy
moonflowerdamie · 2 months
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yellowjackets college au fics you are so special to me <3
(maybe maybe my next fic…? 🫦)
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vaugarde · 1 year
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yeah its important to have interests that arent just for children as an adult because at the end of the day it’s good for you and the way you percieve media overall to have a variety of things that you like but like you also shouldnt make fun of adults who are passionate about childrens media and imply theyre stupid for it. i think both of these takes can exist at once
#i dont like how some people are taking ''read a book for adults'' as ''do this so you are less cringe and stupid in my opinion''#rather than ''do so because its genuinely good for you''#and even so if someone likes childrens media and they like to analyze it and theyre not being a jackass to kids about it#just leave them alone? sometimes that's just what their interests are and thats okay. it makes them happy#and i hate to be That Guy but uhhhh. yeah theres an overlap here w nd adults#not all of us but certainly a good amount bc some special interests are so strong that they last throughout childhood#past an ''acceptable'' age#and again not the case for everyone but like most autistic adults i personally know are into childrens media#and have been into a specific property since they were a young child#and thats just autism like im sure for people with down syndrome and others have a similar experience#and even if they like something recent like bluey like. who cares it is not hurting you#echoed voice#and it also annoys me that most posts like this have people going ''um well fandom moms are annoying tho''#or even worse literally implying there's inherently a sinister motive#as if its not common for adults to get mocked for being childish and naturally get defensive#and as if every single adult into a pbs show or toh is inherently a bad person or something.#bc people will go through several mental gymnastics to defend being a jackass over something not socially acceptable#before they go ''yeah thats kind of rude sorry''
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milo-is-rambling · 2 years
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Recently every conversation with my mom has left me feeling like a child again
#y'know when you were little and your parents were upset but you wanted to tell them something you cared about and they got angry at you for#being happy and wanting to share it with them#that's been how every conversation with my mom has ended for the last two days#i just empty and emotional but I can't do anything about it cause I'm too small and young to help her#i just have to keep being around her and try to make her feel better#it's hard. it's really hard. i miss my dad#i know she's struggling but she doesn't have to act like that to me#and we had been doing so well before my brother came home and now that he's back at school it's like we have to learn to live together all#over again and I don't want to#i just want to lay in bed and cry#i feel like how I felt in middle school when I would lock myself in the bathroom to cry bc my bedroom door didn't have a lock and my family#would just walk in whenever they wanted to do I cried in the bathroom and it was always while I was crying I could hear my whole family#making fun of me for crying in the bathroom and making jokes about how I was crying again and being dramatic and stupid and it kind of#forever tainted my connection with my own emotions and being brushed off by my mom brings me back to that exact feeling#i wanna lock myself in the bathroom and cry so hard I can't breathe while listening to my parents make fun of me for crying#I'm just having a rough day and I'm stressed and sad and it's the first showing of the play tonight and I'm terrified I'm gonna fuck up#and I just want to have a good day but it's all been sucky so far#i hate it#i wake up happy and then I go to start my day and I talk to my mom and then it's like all motivation is drained from me and I want to just#get back into bed again#:((((
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captainsaveawoah · 25 days
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Idk. Something, something secret baby/double life except Johnny and you are together and you’re kept a secret (surprise the man is secretive about his life) from the team.
Bit of a timeline au, You date a few years, you two get married, but it’s still all a secret. Price has an idea, his will has changed, signed off on it himself but doesn’t dig too deep, knows his boys will come to him.
Gaz is the first to comment, Johnny never taking anyone home. Can hear the man most nights finishing into his hands with a groan that sounds something like a name. Johnny just laughs and tips his beer, steering the conversation away.
Ghost though. Can see it. The way Johnny, despite wanting to charge in, gun ‘em down, will take caution, the worry in his words when he’s hurt or downed, not for himself but for someone at home.
Yet, Johnny stays quiet. Doesn’t say a word, rushes back to a “cold, empty apartment” Simon can tell when he and his bird are having a rough patch (little bit of a ghoap thing because they are as gay as they come idk) can tell when Johnny and his bird are in a good place. But the man doesn’t say a damned thing.
You and Johnny have sex… a lot of sex, when he’s home of course. A young couple, so in love, so happy, so wrapped in each other it’s like you made for one another.
You get married, he builds you a house, moves you to Scotland of course. “Need our weens to speak like their papa, yeah?” Knocks you up. Gives you THE CHUBBIEST little boy with his daddies eyes. You know about the task force, know they don’t know about you. You wish they did, wish you knew them personally, they’re the only family Johnny has, but you know Johnny keeps you away for your safety.
He’s about 3 when Simon is at your door. Your eyes widen, like you think you’re dreaming before your on the ground screaming and BEGGING Simon to say it’s not true.
The big guy sticks around, Johnny had felt he wouldn’t come home on this one, told Simon about you before the mission. Asked him to look after you and his son if he doesn’t make it home for supper. Ghost shrugs him off, makes some stupid joke but watches Johnny’s body crumple to the ground as he gets shot in the head.
Johnny told him it had to be him, “Kyle’s got a bird. Captain’s got too much on his plate. Plus you seem to escape death at every turn. Need you to take care of my heart.”
Your son is quick to take to Simon. You not so much, he hangs around, eats all your food, changes his clothes all the time, crowds your space while you grieve the man who became your whole.
But there are days, when you hear Simon and think it’s Johnny. There are days when Simon holds your son and you see Johnny. There are days when Simon’s head is between your thighs you feel like it’s Johnny. You feel bad, he tells you it’s okay. And you believe him, you feel it, mourn it with each passing day, knowing that one day you’ll look up and see only Simon, Johnny will always be there, but one day it’ll just be Simon.
Idk tho.
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inkedbybarnes · 6 months
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unclear
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.
i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!
dividers by @cafekitsune!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
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“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”
wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.
although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.
"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"
"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.
"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."
you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.
but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.
"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"
wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.
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the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.
although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.
after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.
considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.
he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.
"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.
"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"
you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.
your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.
"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"
"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"
before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."
and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."
you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.
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you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.
it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.
"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"
"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."
"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"
friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.
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your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.
with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.
your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.
"ah, fuck."
you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.
"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"
you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"
your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.
"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"
"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"
"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."
"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."
"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."
"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."
oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.
"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."
you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.
"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."
"bucky..."
"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."
"even if i ask for your arm?"
he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"
"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.
"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."
his girl. you loved hearing that.
"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.
"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"
"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."
"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."
"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.
"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"
you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"
he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."
your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.
"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."
bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"
you smiled. "like the old times."
in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.
"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.
"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."
"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.
"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."
bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.
and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.
a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.
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if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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ropes3amthoughts · 2 months
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What you staring at 💀 what he making that pretty ass face for
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Bro’s raising his hand to speak 💀 bro thinks he in school 💀 (which he shouldn’t even think bc his ass was homeschooled) dork ass I’ll kiss him
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Bro likes tomatoes as his favorite food 💀 that ain’t even a meal bruh that’s an ingredient 💀 ingredient lover 💀 malnourished ass 💀 fake food fan 💀 eat some proper meals bruh 💀 bro’s gonna eat tomatoes straight up like an apple and be like “yummy” 💀 I’d take him out to dinner
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Bro’s special interests are people and politics 💀silly ass he’s so excited and cute 💀 what’s he being cute for 💀 cute ass 💀 what’s he got a gorgeous smile for 💀 bro’s having fun and enjoying himself how lovely I hope he has many good days and learns to love himself like with all that idolizing he does of other people he really doesn’t thhnkot himself and maybe he jus like hates himself yo what if that has to do with him lke thjnkjnh he’s like a monster in that one part like he hates monsters and he sees himself like that I mean I guess that’s not really profound idk what I’m sayin I’m kinda tired and k think mh phone is too it’s getting warm
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He’s such a mess lmao like bro just drank some unknown quantity of glasses of alcohol and took his clothes off (unclear which one he did first) and passed out in his bed seemingly backwards what are you doing silly ass 💀 drinking to help with his insomnia smh silly Kabru you’re gonna die young that is not good for you 💀 unhealthy ass 💀 gorgeous ass man 💀 I want to study him under a microscope except I’m really bad at using microscopes in middle school they made me do this before you go into the lab test and I passed it so good but when I got to the lab and started using the microscope i could not see shit like I kept turning them knobs n stuff did not work lnao all blurry so if I was like “bro you an interesting critter I’m gonna study you under a microscope” what would happen is I would just go “hmmm hm hmmmmm” all inquisitively and just look at blurry ness for a few seconds then be like “I can’t see shit lol that was a busy wanna make out@ then I would kiss him on his face and I would play with his pretty hair
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This could b me. I know how to touch boobs and one time when I was like 10 I watched a YouTube video on how to transform into a werewolf and I genuinely believe it was real and I started walking around my house on alll fours and barking and trying to feel my connection to the mooon and when my dad came home he got really mad ya me and he started yelling at me also I have a sister this could literally be me like that could be me I could be feeling Kabru bobs more like Kabroobies lmao I would lick him like a popsicle like his skin like a cat and I would draw little animals on his arms in different colored marker and all the animals say I love you hearttttt and they are all happy animals and I would tell him is ok if he wants to wash them off because they’re stupid little marker animals and it’s ok if he doesn’t like them
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Fun fact I first saw this picture of Kabru like ten minutes before I went to go golfing with m dad and my grandpa and our neighbor Bill or something and so I had no time to process it and so every time during golfing which was like three hours or so btw I would keep thinking of him like this and also this was before k realized I thought he was handsome I was like he’s a cool character. But he’s not like hot lol but then I see this picture minutes before golfing and my heart gets pounding and I feel like I’m choking and suddenly it dawns on me he’s the most beustfil man I’ve ever seen in mh life meow but then I immediately had to go golfing and like ever time I blinked I would see his gorgeous face and I was like “wow man I’m hay” but I couldn’t do anything about it or like tell anybody because I was busy absolutely fucking up my short game lmal Nd itz kujs ahdn fbe chata teds are locked jn a room tkvwtehr kr somwrbinf ow my fingwr hhrt they just sgafted crampimg but anhways tehy realize they lkkr each other n stff yeah j tealkzed i liked him when i was out golfing as soon i vake baxk from glfijg j tbnk j went kn a cfazu tsnt to mh flose frkends and stuff yeab anhways he looks vrewg gorgeous meow melw man
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He’s sooooo cute bruh that tuff of hair that sticks out from behin this ear makes me crazy what the fucj why do you look like that I love you 😭 it’s 1am rn and I love him I can’t sleep I’m comipoling a handful of my little pictures of him to tumblr because he’s making me crazy oh Man U love him him I want to hold his face in mh hands I want uh kiss him I want uhhhh man he is gorgeous and I like his personality he s like assionage he really into his goals he’s like a do whatever it takes guy but like he has limits and stuff he’s not like crazy nuts but he’s driven and accomplished and he’s a cute little charmer he so handsome wow!! And he’s so smart and he’s a quick thinker very smart good at improv and he’s a good leader and he cares about people what a cool guy and I love his nice smile awwwwwwwww man he’s hot meowza k can never be normal about him I don’t feelnormal so about him ever man I’m so sleepy bruh I don’t even remember a single word I just toed snit if I said”I alone Kabru “ somewhere than k agree with myself because yeah I love him and that’s yeah awesome guy him great splendid incredible enamoring effiseneg 100 stars out of 2 or just 50 because that’s fractions wait I can do 100 stars out if 1 stars and get 100 stars or I could just move the decimal pace and I could get even more stars yeah babgygirkl are you the space because stars are you the dirt b cause I would give you flowers z are you mini cooking videos that go “yummy!” And have old Macdonald playing the background because I can’t take my eyes off you are you beautiful because yes you are I am going to bed goodnight to Kabru and the orhwr peippe too i guess njy mksyly Kabru i hope everhd rike he sleleehe sleep well full 9 hoirs well resyed Miss Ryoko Kui please Kabru sleepinh good plewse also comic where he has good day please I wish the best for him
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vnti-vntiety-recs · 6 months
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GUARDIAN GLOVES (M)
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★  PAIRING: Boxer! Jeno x Reader 
☆ WORD COUNT: 12k
★ GENRE(S): Brother’s Bestfriend AU, Childhood Friend AU?, Smut
☆ SUMMARY:  No matter how badly you want to start over, your rebellious past follows you to college, and you can't run from it forever Your brother Jaemin was your rock growing up, but now that he has left for an out-of-state university, he can no longer save you. You do not want to burden your brother's best friend, but he might be the only one who can save you from the person of your past who refuses to let you go.
★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, fighting, harassment, and stalking, mentions of violence, guns and drugs, abusive relationships.
☆★ NOTES: Read with caution, please; some scenes can be intense. Leave nice comments, please <3 
It was a mistake; you knew it was a mistake; your brother and friends both told you so. Now, due to the enormous amounts of red flags you have ignored, you have found yourself in some hot water. What can you say? Love makes you blind.
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“You cant keep putting up with this! We need to do something,” your friend Ryujin stressed “This has been going on for too long; im scared something serious might happen” You were worried that wrinkles might form from how much shes been furrowing her brow.
“Im fine! Its not even that serious, ok? Just drop it,” you say, sitting on your bed with your head buried in your hands as your roommate paced the dorm room. You had never seen her so upset. 
“No! I will not sit here while my best friend gets harassed! We need to report this!”
“We are NOT reporting this ryu; that will only make things worse.” you sigh before sitting back to look your friend dead in the eyes
“He pushed you down the stairs!?” 
“It was a mistake!”
You met Yuta during your junior year of high school. He was your typical run-of-the mill bad boy; he skipped classes, hung out late, and got high. You knew he was trouble, but that was what you wanted. You grew up rebellious; you were young and dumb. You just wanted attention, and hanging with the wrong crowd got you plenty. You felt unstoppable when you were with Yuta and his crew. When Yuta would parade you around school in your too-short skirt and pretty long legs, you felt special; you felt wanted. Your friends hated him, and they hated what you became. You didn’t listen to their warnings, and you stuck around. 
You stuck around even when skipped classes turned into stolen cars and the weed highs turned into selling. You were stupid to think you could keep up with his lifestyle. You just wanted to piss your family off. You were used to bad boys, but Yuta was something else. 
She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself “Look, he's clearly getting bold; I'm afraid he’ll seriously hurt you!” 
“Please, drop it,” you beg in exhaustion. Its been a long day. You had classes all day, and with your yuta problem, you found yourself getting tired a lot faster. You had to turn in his class work on top of yours, which resulted in more time spent in the library. You had been getting home later and later. 
“What about Jaemin? Have you told him? You know he would do anything for you.”
Your brother left for college the year before you. You couldn't ask him to fight your battles  anymore. He got a full ride and was off in another state, living his life, while you were at home bawling your eyes out over the fact that the heartbreaking bad boy broke your heart. 
You had finally broken up with Yuta when you realized he was cheating on you. You should have seen it coming, honestly, The day you checked his phone and found the messages, he didnt even try to pretend like he cared. He had been talking to several other girls while he was with you. You felt so stupid, and that was your last straw. Let us just say he was not happy about it, and he and his friends have been harassing you since.
“That's exactly why I can't tell him; I don't need him flying out just to take care of my issues; I can handle them on my own. He's got his own life; he can't afford any more distractions.”
Your brother was practically your hero growing up. Whenever you were in trouble, he was by your side to protect you. Even though he was really only your stepbrother, he didn’t love you any less. You would always be his little sister.
 Jaemin had been in and out of the boxing ring for years. Bad boyfriends weren't anything new to you or him; he was the one who typically kept them in check. You were the main reason he picked up fighting; he knew, as your older brother, it was his job to protect you, and he would do it to his last breath. He tried to warn you about Yuta, but you didn't listen. You knew he would drop anything if it meant coming to your aid, but you couldn't ask that of him. 
You also know he would never let you live it down. 
You thought once high school was over, you would finally be able to escape Yuta’s torment, but he followed you to your new school. Your brother warned you about him, and now he's not here to protect you anymore. 
"Ok, what about Jeno?” She states hesitantly,
“Absolutely NOT!” you scowl, throwing yourself back into the sheets to hide under the covers
“Yes! Jaemin literally told you to go to him if you need anything! He probably knew you would be too proud to contact him if you were in trouble.”
You sit back up and throw the covers off of you. “It’s not his problem! I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out, ok?” you state firmly
"Fine, you know what fine, its getting late I’m heading to bed…but I swear if he—”
"Ok, Ryujin, thanks really,” you say sincerely. You could never be mad at Ryujin; she was only looking out for you, and you knew she meant well. For all that it was worth, you knew she would always have your back. She would run head-first into battle for you.
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You could definitely be mad at Ryujin. In fact, you've been upset for the last hour.
She promised a surprise for you; she said she wanted to take you somewhere to take your mind off of the whole Y*ta situation. Honestly, you were grateful to be getting out of the house; you had been limiting yourself to only going to classes. You were trying your hardest to not run into him. 
You make sure to dress prettily. You were just too excited to finally have a reason to dress up again. You were so excited, you didn't even blink at the all-too-familiar signs and buildings as Ryujin pulled into the parking lot of a run-down boxing gym.
It's not until you have walked into the threshold and over to the rusty sideline benches that you feel overdressed and out of place. Your eyes scan the room, and everything feels so familiar yet out of place that you feel stupid for not realizing sooner.
As your eyes take in the old tattered banners and boxing ring, you realize you were walked blind into your brother's old gym. He and Jeno used to come here all the time to spar and train. This place used to run official matches and business, but it went bankrupt and had to close. Now it was just a place that hosted underground fighting. 
You knew what this was about, and you were upset that Ryujin fooled you into coming. You crossed your arms protectively over your chest, and you had hungry eyes staring at you from each angle.
“You...are... insane,” you hissed at her in anger after you two got settled in your seats. 
“And you are a coward. I'm sorry I lied Ok, but we need his help,” she contests
“You just walked me into a den full of hungry wolves. We're gonna need a lot more than help now!” You whisper harshly.
"Oh, come on, you know jeno’s not gonna let anything happen to you”
It was as if saying his name aloud summoned him; the next thing you know, he is in the ring.
You can't help but hold your breath at the sight. He had grown since the last time you saw him, and you didn't even think that was possible. His face was more refined and sculpted, and his arms were toned with muscles. His shoulders would have had you drooling if it weren’t for the perdicament you were in. They were broad and covered in cuts and bruises, much like the rest of his body. His body relaxes as he shakes away his nerves. He was standing in one corner of the ring, while his opponent stood menacingly at the other end. You think you hear the announcer call out his name—was it Jaehyung? Jaehyoon? Something like that.
You try to duck your head, not wanting to be seen, but you stand out like a sore thumb. As Jeno finished up his quick stretches, his eyes somehow wandered to you. First comes shock, then confusion, and as he rakes his eyes over your outfit, he’s overcome with anger.
Tonight was going to be a long night.
You could hear the scolding now…
”it's too cold to be wearing that”
“it's too dangerous for you to be here”
“This isn't some show; don't bring your friends here”
It wasn't even your fault you were here! You already knew he was not going to hear any of that, though.
He fixes you with a stare that says, “We’ll talk later,” and you groan in annoyance.
Before you can even open your mouth to give Ryujin another piece of your mind, the match begins and draws your attention back to the ring.
Jeno sizes up his opponent as they circle each other, looking for openings. His opponent, Jae Something, was twice his size, and honestly, you were a little afraid for Jenos sake. Jae was inpatient and struck first. Jenos weaves left and holds his guard strong. Jeno played the defense; he was patient, and you find that his fighting style was the mirror opposite of his personality. Even though Jeno had a tendency to lose his temper, it was fascinating to watch him change when he stepped into the ring. He moved with poise and thoughtfulness at every turn. 
Jenos patience rewarded him and he saw an opening In his opponents gaurd. He struck Jae, causing him to stumble back on unsecure footing. This allowed jeno to push his opponent back and switch to offense. Jae was already worn out, and Jeno used this to his advantage, knocking him down and out after hounding him with jabs and hooks.
Jeno was an endurance fighter; his goal wasn't to win through brutality but by outlasting his opponent in a fight.
You were amazed at how far he had come. He was a skilled fighter, as he always had been, but now, after years of honing his craft, you could see he was nothing like the boy you knew before.
The match was over and you were brought back to reality as you realized just what kind of scene you were in. This was an illegal boxing match, and now that it was over, the illegal part really started to stand out. Bets had been placed on the matches before hand and were now being fulfilled. Money was being passed around, and some exchanges even turned aggressive. You knew Jeno had probably wanted you to stick around for your lashings, but this was your queue to get the fuck out of there. You grab Ryujin's hand and try to lead her away from the ever-increasingly aggravated crowd. You navigate through groups of people as you hurry towards the exit. 
On your way, you trip over your stupid heels that Ryujin convinced you to wear and accidentally bump shoulders with someone. You find your footing and apologize. You try to walk away, pulling Ryujin behind you, but feel a rough hand on your shoulder pulling you back.
“Where do you think your going?” a gravelly voice calls out.
“I already apologized; let me go,” you grit out, trying to pull away from the man. He was a little bit taller than you and was twice your age. You noticed the wad of cash in one of his hands and the sickishly sweet smile on his face, and you figured he must have placed a winning bet.
“Don't be like that; how about I take you and your friend here out and we go somewhere private” he says while flashing his money. “Of course you'll have to work for it if you want a tip,” he says repulsively.
From the corner of your eye, you see Jeno pushing through the crowd. The look on his face gives you the chills. 
“Don’t be scared, baby; I don't bite,” the man says. 
Oh, you’re not scared of him; your scared for him.
You know what's coming before it happens, and the man is on the ground in seconds. His money flits through the air before joining him on the ground. The man is clutching his face, and before Jeno can get his hands on him again, men dressed in all black pull the man to his feet and drag him out. You figured they must have been something like security. 
Everything happens so fast, but all you know is that you and Ryujin are both being pulled by an angry Jeno deeper into the building into some back room. Ryujin looks a bit shaken, but you assure her everything is okay now.
 It was dark and chilly in the room. The cement walls offered no warmth as you stood in the middle of what you assumed to be an old locker room. The back of the building was really coming apart; water leaked from the ceiling, and it smelled like mildew. No one really occupies the space anymore. 
Now occupying the space were Jeno,currently trying to reel in his nerves as he drags a hand down his face; Ryujin, shifting from one foot to another awkwardly; and you, who crossed your arms definitely over your chest as you waited for Jeno’s reprimanding.
“You know what I'm going to say,” he huffs.
“I'm sorry, it's really not her fault I'm the one who drug her here; I didn't realize how dangerous it would be” Ryujin tried to defend you, but she didn't know Jeno like you did. He wasnt one for excuses.
“Who are you?” He asks dismissively.  
Jeno had never met Ryujin before. Ryujin had only heard about him through the stories you would tell her about growing up with him and your brother.
“Im a friend; we didn’t come here without a reason we wanted to—” She says but doesnt get to finish
"Jeno, dont be rude. She was only trying to help.” You interrupt. You could not have her bring that up now; you needed his attention back on you. 
“I'm sorry, Ryujin. Can you give us a moment?” He sighs in apology.
Ryujin gives you a look but takes the hint and doesn't push the topic again. She reluctantly walks to the door and waits outside the room. 
Once the door shuts behind her, Jeno wastes no time telling you off. “I dont know why your here or whats going on but you need to leave. You know better than this,” he scolds
You wanted to jump off a cliff. This is absolutely not how you wanted to meet him again. You had imagined this meeting a thousand times in your head. When you finally reconnected, you were supposed to show him how mature you had gotten. This whole fiasco definitely sets you back 10 steps. 
“I wouldn't be here …I wouldn't be dressed like this if I had known we would end up here. It was a mistake. We'll leave, ok?" You say arms crossed and closed off as you dig your heel into the ground.
Even after all this time, he still had a soft spot for you. No matter how hard he tried to be stern with you, one look at the pout on your face made him feel bad. He walks over and closes the small distance between you two. He engulfs you in a hug, and you’re reminded of home. He reminds you so much of your past that it makes you nostalgic. He kisses the top of your head affectionately and lets go, and you’re reminded just how smelly and musty he is as his sticky skin peels from yours.
“Gross,” you grumble
“I think you'll live,” he jokes with a smile. He's a lot calmer now. He leans down to meet your gaze “I'm sorry for being hard on you; I was just worried. You popped up out of nowhere after all this time.
It was so easy to fall back in step with him. You want to tell him everything; all you want is for him to fix everything, but you are no longer that little girl, and you are determined to prove it. 
You’re deep in thought when he asks, “Is everything OK, Storm?”
Your heart skips a beat at the nickname; you haven't heard that in awhile. He's always called you that; when you asked him why, he told you it was because you would stir up so much trouble wherever you went, growing up like a storm. It may have sounded negative, but he didn’t mean it like that. He always said it affectionately. 
“I'm fine; Ryujin brought me here because I said I missed home. She wanted to take me around to some familiar places. I guess she didn't know what really went down at this place” You try to cover up the truth.
Your campus wasn't too far from your hometown, and you go home almost every weekend, but hopefully Jeno doesn’t know that and buys the story. 
He looks a bit sceptical. "Lately, its been hard to come by you,” he says “Are you sure your not in any trouble?”
"I've just been busy with school; its nothing really,” you explain.
He just nods, and you know he does not believe it, but he doesn’t pry either. “Lets get you home; it's getting late” 
When you open the door, Ryujin falls forward, clearly listening in and she gives you a sheepish smile. You grab her arm and pull her along as jeno personally escorts you out and to ryujin's car.
He holds your door open for you and watches as you clamber inside before buckling your seat belt and closing your door for you. You internally groan in annoyance. He was never going to see you as anything but the 7th grade version of you that he first met. The girl needed her brother to save her from herself. 
You are grown now!
He can practically see the words printed on your forehead as he huckles to himself. He didn’t care; he would always take care of you, no matter how much you hated him for it.
 He motions for you to roll down the window before leaning into the car and caressing your face affectionately with his rough, bruised hand. You decide right then that you would never let him get hurt for your sake. He’s fought enough.
 “If you need anything, call, ok?” He says this before drawing his hand back. You don't respond, and he quirks an eyebrow.
"Ok,” You grumble 
“You have my number, right?”
“Yes!” You say a bit louder in annoyance.
"Ok, ok, I'm just checking, you never reach out, I just want to make sure your okay,” he continues 
“Actually, can I take your number? I'm practically her guardian now. I'll make sure to keep you updated if she needs anything” Your friend butts in with a smile.
Jeno happily gives her his number, and you just sit in the passenger seat like a child, watching as your parents fuss over you.
You are grown now!
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Mondays are the worst days of the week, not because you have to go back to classes. You loved class, you loved learning and you loved your teachers. It wasn’t until college that you found out that you really enjoyed learning. Yuta would have definitely laughed at you if you told him that in high school. 
Yuta was the reason you hated Mondays. Mondays were the worst because they meant no more hiding. You couldn't stay in all day; you had to go to class, and that meant running into the devil. You were lucky enough to only have one class with Yuta, and that class only met on Mondays. 
You find your way to your seat at the back of the class, hoping to hide away from him, but you know he will find you. You felt his presence as he slipped into the seat next to you. 
“Morning doll, did you get my text?” 
You hated when he texted you; it was always a disturbing photo. Last time you opened a text from him, it was a video of him fucking some girl in a dark alleyway. In the video, he made the girl drop to her knees and open her mouth. He pressed the barrel of his gun into her mouth and made her suck it off. ‘Wish this was you’ was the text he sent after the video.
Since then, you have made it a point not to open his texts, but it seems like he wasn't going to let this one go.
“I’ve been busy; i hadnt had the chance to”
"Well, that's no good doll; why don't you open it now?” he smirks wickedly.
“I dont think—”
“Open it,” The playfulness slips off of his face and replaced with seriousness 
You never noticed it before, but Yuta could be terrifying. He never showed this side to you before, but your certain this was the side everyone else saw. He made a promise to follow you to the end of the earth, and so far he has kept true to it. 
He had gone from being your high school’s bad boy to the campus’s star athlete. Yuta had completely rebranded himself after graduation, and it made it even harder to report him. No one would believe you. He would just spin the story and make you out to be some bitter ex, making up lies to try to ruin his college career.
With shaky hands, you unlock your phone and go to your messages, clicking on the conversation with the unsaved number attached to it. There, you find a video waiting for you. You turn your volume all the way down and hit play. This time, it was a video of you a few nights ago, exiting the gym with Ryujin and Jeno. The camera work was shaky, and it seemed to have been taken from behind a car or a bushr? You couldnt tell but your heart was beating outside your chest.
Your eyes are glued to the screen as you feel a firm hand caress your tense shoulder until it grips the back of your neck. "Now why does it look like my doll is cheating” You freeze in place as your mouth hangs open. “Who is that?” he asks.
You had no idea he was following you. How long had he been following you? The grip on your neck tightens.
“Answer me,” he whispers cruelly, his eyes darkening with rage.
“He’s no one” tears well up in your eyes. Ryujin was right; this was getting out of hand.
“Let me catch you with him again; I'll make you regret it,” he whispers. He kisses the side of your head and breathes in the scent of your shampoo. He releases you, and you release the breath you had been holding. 
You can barely pay attention to anything your professor is saying; you just stare blankly at the front of the room.
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You sent Ryujin a text to meet you in the library. You hated to dump all of this on her but you had to talk to someone. You could already tell she was frustrated with you about the situation, but she was the only one you could confide in. With her around, you didn't feel so alone in this. 
“He did what?!”
“Its ok, if I do what he says, everything will be fine; i have it under control,” you reply sheepishly
“No! You need to report his creepy ass to the cops!” she yells in disbelief.
“Keep it down; we’re in a library,” you remind her
“Dont try to change the subject,” she whispers 
“I'll figure this out” 
“We will figure this out.” she says, grabbing your hand and giving it a supportive squeeze.
When she lets go of your hand, hers slip under the table. You don't see it, but she’s texting someone, typing furiously before hitting send.
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You try not to be mad at Ryujin, but you can't believe she went behind your back and snitched. Now, here in front of you, sits the last man on earth that you want to worry. Ryujin mouths a sorry and sends you an apologetic look. Jeno had arrived about ten minutes earlier, and he looked to be trying to keep his calm before confronting the matter.
“Is this some intervention?” you joke to lighten the mood. 
“Ryujin told me everything; do you think this is a joke?” He questioned, trying to stay patient with you. “Why didnt you tell me sooner”
You sigh, feeling ashamed. Everything was always so tense between you two. You had grown apart over the years, and it was difficult to think he was once like a second brother to you. But time was not the only factor to blame; high school also played a part. Puberty changed everything. It changed you, it changed jeno, and it definitely changed how you felt towards him. You had such a massive crush on him in high school that even your brother found it hard to ignore. You made Jaemin swear to secrecy and never tell a soul. If you had known Ryujin was going to call Jeno, you would have sucked it up and reached out to your brother.
You didn’t want Jeno to get involved. You kept telling yourself you didn't want him to get hurt, but you had to be honest with yourself. There was another reason you didn't want to ask for his help, and it was because you were still embarrassed. Anything was better than sitting in front of the man who rejected you. 
Summer freshman year of highschool
You thought you had finally grown up in his eyes; you thought your newfound curves were enough to make him see you as more than “Jaem’s little sister.” You thought you could fool yourself into believing you had a chance. 
It wasnt abnormal for jeno to sleep over at your place during highschool. He would crash in Jaemin’s room and eat breakfast with your family, like he lived there. One night, you catch him alone and tell him how you feel. You waited for him outside the bathroom. He was showering, and you were certain your brother was too engulfed in his game to interrupt you. Jeno had exited the bathroom wearing sweats and a tanktop, drying his hair with a towel. He had almost walked right by, not noticing you. You stood in front of him wearing a similar white tanktop and sleeping shorts, your nipples poking through the fabric of your shirt. You were so sure you would have his attention, but he just tentatively acknowledged you.
“Im sorry, was i taking too long?” he asked apologetically
"No, i actually wanted to talk to you about something”
He just nods his head and waits for you to continue
“I really like you, and I was hoping I could spend more time with you... just uh… the two of us,” you said shyly, unable to find the right words.
You couldnt meet his eye and stare at a random spot on the carpet
You felt a gentle hand stroke your head affectionately. You look up, hopefully but your world comes crashing down with his next few words
“Your like a sister to me; of course we can hang out more,” he smiles brightly, unknowingly ripping your heart out
Ever since that night, you have avoided him like the plague.
‘I just didn't want to worry you or jaem.” you say, ashamed.
“I won't tell him but if you think I'm going to sit back and let this happen, your wrong”
“I didn’t think it was that much of an issue yet.” you say, picking at your sleeves.
Jenos eyes harden with disbelief  “Are you serious? Not much of an issue?” he grits “Hes threatening you”
"Ok, ok, your right; I shouldn't be taking this lightly” You try to soothe things over with a weak smile.
“Give me your phone,” he says, holding out his hand
You unlock it and hand it to him, unsure of what he's going to do. After messing around with it, he hands it back. “I blocked him; dont even think about texting him again.” he warns
“Jeno! I have to; hes going to be pissed!” You take your phone back, looking through your messages, but you’re unable to find the conversation again. You didn't realize how much control he had over you. You thought all you had to do was follow his orders, and you would be alright; one day he would just get bored of you and stop. 
“Don't you hear yourself? Your scared!” he yells. He hated seeing you like this. He promised Jaemin that he would watch after you, but here he was, blind to the cruelty that you had endured. “Once this is all over, I'm telling Jaem.” 
(¬_¬) snitch 
He gets up, preparing to leave, while both you and Ryujin stare at each other. Well, you glare at her while she communicates a response with her eyes in return. He doesn’t turn to leave before saying one last thing: “Keep your phone on you at all times, and I'll be walking you from your classes from here on out,” he states sternly. 
“I dont know if that’s a good idea; he told me not—”
“Are you more afraid of him or me?” he asks you
Point taken.
You wait until Jeno is out of earshot before you whisper yell at your friend, “I told you not to tell him!”
“I had to! I was worried”
"Well, great, now he's worried and probably thinks I'm an irresponsible idiot!”
"Well, you are,” she counters, “whats your deal anyway? You seriously think Yuta is just going to leave you alone? He's gonna end up killing you!” she scolds.
You take a moment to process her words. She had a point, but she didn't know Yuta like you did; neither of them did. He was dangerous. You just wanted to keep your friends safe, but you might have gotten in over your head.
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You finally make it to your destination; you drove to the old gym, hoping to find Jeno. You could have called or texted him, but you knew it would be easier to get your point across in person. You had at least wanted to let him know what he was getting himself into. Yuta was dangerous, and no matter how strong Jeno was, he wasn't bulletproof.
You park your cute little beetle and cringe; you definitely didn't belong in this scene, and everyone around was going to know it. A sticker-bombed Volkswagen Beetle in the middle of the parking lot of a broken-down and shady gym? Perfect combo!
Luckily, there were only a few cars tonight. You figured it must not be fight night, and you prayed that you found Jeno inside. You gather up your courage and march inside. You make your way down a narrow hallway that opens up into the main gym, and that's where you find him. There were a few other fighters occupying the space, but they seemed to be wrapping up. Jeno must not be the only one who comes here to let off steam, you assume. 
"Oh, who's this cute thing?” one of the guys says as you catch his eye on his way out.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you Haechan; thats Jenos Girl,” another voice says, coming up behind him before slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Excuse him,” he says politely before pulling Haechan away and scolding him.
The one that wasn’t Haechan was there the night Jeno punched that weirdo out. Apparently the whole gym knew you as Jeno’s girl, according to his rambling. Their arguing fades away and the last thing you hear before complete silence is “Get off me Renjun your musty”
You laugh to yourself before scanning the room, and you bring your eyes back to the man nestled in the corner. He's facing a punching bag with his hands tightly wrapped and his headphones secure on his head. He wasn't still for a second, staying light on his feet as he threw a few hooks at the bag. 
You were almost afraid to accidentally sneak up on him because that would not end well. You stay cautious and keep a safe distance, choosing to call his name a few times to get his attention. Your practically screaming, but he can't hear you. You wonder what brand of headphones he had because that noise cancellation was crazy! You choose a different approach and spot a disregarded boxing glove on a side table. You walk the short distance, grab the item and chunk it at the back of Jeno’s head. 
Now clearly, you weren’t trying to poke a bear. You were aiming more towards his broad shoulders, given that was a better target, but your aim was off, and you almost knocked the expensive-looking headphone off his head.
Jeno whips around angrily, opening his mouth to curse, but stops himself short once he notices you. He settles for a deep, exasperated sigh and a sharp glare. He must have been at it for awhile because he was drenched in sweat, and his bangs hung messily in his eyes and were dripping sweat. He pushed the wet hair back from his eyes, showing his forehead. He looked so good when he was angry; his eyes were narrowed dangerously, and his chest heaved heavily.
“Why are you fucking with me?” He says this, coldly pulling his headphones off his ears and letting them hang around his neck "You better have a good reason for being here when there is a psycho after you. I clearly remember telling you to stay away from this place?” 
Oh yeah, you definitely poked the bear. Hes pissed.
“Are you sure you want to get involved?” You try to find your words. “Yuta isnt like the little boys you and jaemin used to beat up in highschool”
“You could never keep yourself out of trouble, huh?”
“I'm not asking for your help!”
“Drop the act for once, would you? Your not tough so stop acting like it!”
“I’m not being tough; I just don't want to be a bother! I'm not the same kid! When I’m falling, you always save me, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being weak. I don't need your help, so why don’t you drop the older brother act? Your barely even older than me!” You pitch back
“Jaemin told me to look out for you so thats what im doing,” he huffs 
“And that's your only reason, right? Your just looking out for me because my brother said so” you scoff, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. " How about this? I take you in the ring and show you what I got. Let me show you I can take care of myself” You cross your arms and send him a defiant look.
“Are you seriously—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head in disbelief “You know what fine. Show me what you got”
You smile in triumph and walk over to the center of the gym, where the ring sits. You take off your shoes and crawl inside. The mat felt cool under your feet; it was a grounding sensation, and just once you understood why Jeno loved standing in it, even if it meant fighting. You scan the gym, and memories fill in all the rust, broken pipes and holes in the wall as you remember what the gym used to be. Your stuck in a trance until you feel something soft but firm hit you in the head, knocking you from your daydream.
“That was payback…. but you also need to be mindful of your surroundings. Not starting off so well, angel,” Jeno says, shaking his head as he adjusts the punching mitts over his hands. 
You’re brought back to the present and finally notice the boxing gloves at your feet. You get the memo and put them on. 
“This can't be too hard,” you mutter to yourself.
Your both centered in the ring and you focus on jenos movements. You grew up being dragged to almost all of your brother's matches; you figured you had watched long enough to catch on to some moves. You throw a punch at Jenos mitt, and he cushions the blow. He lets you get comfortable throwing a few punches before he counters. He makes his movements very big and obvious; you can see his strike from a mile away. You weave under it and throw a punch at his gaurding mitt. 
Hes going easy on you
You continue to spar, and Jeno is in full coach mode. He's guiding you in the correct stance and helping you learn what to look for when someone strikes. You've been at it for about 30 minutes now, and you've gotten faster at dodging and reading his movements. He’s still going extremely easy on you, but upping the ante just a little. You were completely absorbed in the lesson.
“Nice hook, put you jab lacks power,” he instructs.
You were good at putting your body into your hooks, but you just couldn't build enough momentum for a strong jab. You try again, but it falls flat, and Jeno shakes his head. 
“Follow through; come on, try it again,” he encourages you. You take a breath and send a jab into his mitt. Still not enough. 
Jeno takes off the mitts and moves in closer towards you.
"Here, watch me,” he says, raising his gaurd and striking the air. “You want to step into it, see?” He shows you again, a little bit slower.
You give a determined hum and copy his movement, but you can tell by Jeno’s face that you're missing the mark. 
"Ok, come here; let me show you” Jeno moves in behind you and grabs your arms. He helps you fix your posture and you instantly heat up at the contact. You try to keep it together, but the way his chest was pressed up against your back and the way he was breathing heavily in your ear had you reeling. "Ok, now focus, step into it and jab.” 
He moves one hand down to your waist and pushes you forward, guiding your step, while the other helps you jab. He was so close. You wanted to blame the sudden weakness in your limbs on the endless training he has you doing, but you know its from the heat of his body.
“Are you okay? That one was really weak. Are you shaking?” Jeno looks at you from over your shoulder, worried. 
You meet his gaze and nod silently. He's so close. His lips are a breath away, and all you have to do is turn your head to meet his lips. The hand holding your waist travels up your side and grabs your chin. He tilts your head up a little, and his lips are meeting yours. You turn in his grasp and kiss him back. His lips are so soft, and when you pull away, you immediately miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 
“I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done that,” he says softly.
Before you can protest, he pulls away from you, cleans up the equipment you two used, and calls it a night. You let him walk you to your car, and you say nothing before you drive away. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely would be now.
How could he kiss you and then pretend like nothing happened? You’re too embarrassed to bring it up again. Does this count as being rejected for a second time? Nah, he kissed you; you're not taking another L. 
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It had been a week so far, and Jeno had shown up promptly to all your classes. He shouldered your bags and carried your books as you both walked across campus. Neither of you brought up the kiss, but fortunately, it wasn't awkward anymore. He had started teaching you to defend yourself at the gym sometimes after class. Those moments felt the most intimate. You could feel his passion when he taught you, and it warmed you in all the right places. You two talked about everything in these moments. You shared embarrassing memories from high school, and he told you stories about Jaemin that you would never let your brother live down. You talked about everything but the kiss. You wonder if he regretted it?
The funny thing about college was that the classrooms were so big and there were so many students that it was hard to keep track of who was who. That's how Jeno ended up in you’re lecture every Monday. It was the only class you had with Yuta, and Jeno wasn’t taking any chances. You told him it wasn't a good idea, and the eyes burning into the back of your head were proof of that. Jeno was by your side the entire period, and to onlookers, you two probably looked like a couple. He had scooted your chair directly next to him and was practically shoulder to shoulder with you. 
“Back up; I can feel you breathing down my neck” 
“I want to see what your doing”
Jeno didn't go to college. He mainly just worked during the day and fought on the weekends for extra cash. His parents were absent for the most part, and he kind of took care of himself growing up. He didn't really have a support system growing up, and that was one of the main reasons he found himself at your house. The only other place he felt safe was the gym. You could only imagine how devastated he was when it shut down. You can understand why he decided to stick around when things turned shady. Jeno earned enough money to support himself, so he never felt the need to go to college, which is why Jaemin didn't feel to bad about dumping you off on his shoulder.
“I can't concentrate Jen,” you scold.
He spends half the class peaking over your shoulder as you work and the other half asleep on the desk. Some guard dog he was.
Yuta didn't bother you during class anymore, and you were grateful. You could finally focus on bringing your grades back up, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was plotting against you the entire time. After class, he would hang out in the library or, if you had a long day, the gym before returning to pick you up.
Later that day, Jeno was supposed to meet you after your econ class, which was your last class of the day, but you were surprised to not see him silently leaning up against the wall opposite the door. You try your best to calm your nerves as you try to decide if you should wait for him or not. You tried not to freak out; he was probably fine. Maybe he thought you could handle walking yourself home for once; you couldn't expect him to be there all the time. Not to mention you hadn't run into Yuta anywhere other than class.  
Your last class ends late, and the sun has already gone down, so you were really reluctant to leave without Jeno. You try your best to channel the old you, the one that ran with bad crowds, the one who feared no one and nothing, and the newer you, who had trained with Jeno and learned how to protect yourself. You put on your best face and begin trekking home.
As you walked, you realized It wasn't so bad; you had honestly forgotten how nice it felt to just walk around by yourself and clear your head. You were enjoying your walk home, and you were about two blocks from your dorm when you felt something in the air shift. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone. You try to pick up your pace as subtly as possible and pull your phone from your bag. You dial Jeno’s number with quickness and wait for him to pick it up. You can feel the person behind you’s steps quicken. 
Come on, please
You beg internally as you break out into a small jog. Screw being subtle; someone was clearly following you. You didn’t dare chance a look over your shoulder as you cut across a lawn; his phone went to voicemail, and you dialed again. The person behind you is right on your heels and you drop your phone as a firm hand grabs your arm. Your first reflex is to scream, but you remember Jenos teachings: you jab your elbow as hard as you can into the attacker's ribs. Your about to break his grip when you hear a familiar groan. You turn around to look at your attacker, and you notice its just Jeno.
He's looking at you with a worried expression, like he didn't just chase you for a full block.
“What are you doing!?” 
“I was trying to catch up to you!” He lets you go and holds his ribs, groaning in pain.
“Why didn't you pick up weirdo? I thought someone was going to get me!”
“I was running late and left my phone at home; I thought you would at least wait for me,” he states
You calm your nerves and sign in relief. You shake off your backpack and shove it into his chest.
“Dont be late again; what if something had happened”
“You know I would never let anything happen to you, right?” His eyebrows furrow, and he looks into your eyes. He needs you to know that he would throw down everything to make sure you were okay.
“I know that” Your heart skips a beat, and he grabs your hand reassuringly. You were grateful for the night sky because you could feel your face heating up.
"Good,” 
You finally arrive at your off-campus dorm and make your way inside. Your roommate didn't seem to be home yet; typically, she came home late because she had to work late at her job so you were grateful for the time you had alone with jeno. 
It isn't until he sets your things down and you flick on a few lights that you see a few bruises and cuts on his face. It was not surprising to see Jeno bruised up, given his fighting background, but these appeared to be from a recent fight. When he notices your gaze, he turns to hide his face and begins unpacking your bag and arranging your study materials.
Jeno had insisted a few days ago that he stick around a little after he drops you off. He insisted it was for your protection so you guys started studying together. Well, you started studying; Jeno just watched you or took a nap next to you on the sofa. 
“We should start soon; it's getting late,” he says, trying to redirect your attention.
You refuse to let it go though and move in closer to get a better look. “Who did this?” you say as you gently caress his face, moving it around to examine the damage
“I had a match the other—”
“Don't lie to me,” you urge
“He sent some guys after me,” jeno confesses
Your heart drops. This is exactly why you didn’t want him to get involved. Its like he can read your thoughts because he immediately tries to ease your worry.
“Calm down; this is nothing. You know me, I can hold my own,” he says
You didn't respond.
“I took care of them; you dont have to worry”
You stare at him incredulously “Is that why you were late today?” 
"Maybe,” he winces
“Jeno!” you scold. “Was Yuta there?”
“I tried to look for him after, but apparently he had an away game tonight,” he answers. 
“Let me clean you up” 
Jeno wasn't that much taller than you, probably just a few inches, but you found it easier to work on the cuts on his face by sitting on the counter. You already had your materials prepped; you kept a first aid kit on hand at all times; it was a habit you couldn't shake. This wasn't the first time you found yourself in this position with Jeno; you had always cleaned him and your brother up during childhood. You felt terrible; you worked in a silence that Jeno kept trying to break. Anytime he would open his mouth to speak, you would dab at his lip with more ointment to shut him up until he got the memo. He kept trying to cheer you up and you werent in the mood
He winces at your touch, and you immediately let up and give a short apology. You go back in with a lighter hand and add a bandage. As many punches as he takes, you would think a little peroxide wouldn't hurt. You were done fixing him up, and you busy yourself with putting your kit back together, ignoring the eyes that bore into you. You wanted to leave and put some distance between you but he wouldnt step from between your legs. 
“Hey, look at me.” he calls out to you. 
You could not bring yourself to look at him; each scar on his face reminded you that it was your fault that he was hurt. 
“Its not your fault” its like he was reading your mind.
"Yes, it is! I shouldnt have gotten you involved! I should have just called Jaem.”
“You would rather see Jaemin beat up?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
“He would have at least deserved it,” you say, rolling your eyes and thinking of all the times he tormented you growing up.
A comfortable silence falls between you two after sharing a laugh. He was so close, but you reached out like he was going to disappear. You tentatively caress his bruised cheek; he leans into your touch, and the look he gives you gives you butterflies. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 
“I like being near you;  don’t push me away again”
"Jeno,” you say, shocked by his confession
“I dont want us to go back to the way things were I—
You push him away before jumping down from the counter; you don't want to hear anymore. You had a feeling you knew what he was getting at. After all this time and all the hurt, now he likes you!?
“You were the one who made it like this! Made US like this. I told you how I felt all those years ago, and you rejected me!” you argue
“What are you talking—”
“Drop it,” you demand, trying to leave the bathroom, but he stands in the doorway, blocking your path.
“What did you mean? When did I ever reject you?” Jeno tries, but you ignore his gaze until he grips your chin and forces you to look at him.
“Stop being like that and answer me.” he says.
You were tired of holding your tongue; you might as well get it over with. “Do you remember that time during highschool? When you stayed with us the whole summer?” you worry your lip. “I told you I liked you and you said I was like a sister to you,” you heave out in one big breathe
Jeno takes a moment to process your words, and he finally says, “I had no idea that was what you meant back then. I thought you hated me since I was always over. I thought the ‘I like you’ was more of an ‘I like you around’,” Jeno explains.
“Why would I hate you?” You ask in shock
“Jaemin used to always drag me around to scare off your boyfriends; I thought you might have hated me for that. You never really went out of your way to speak to me, I guess? I asked Jaemin if you hated me that same night, and he told me no. Then I ran into you in the hallway, and you suddenly told me you liked me, so I figured he told you to set things straight?” 
He wasn't wrong; back then, you kept to yourself and watched from afar. You hoped you could make him come to you. You were too scared to approach him, so you did everything you could to get his attention. You got into trouble, so he and Jaemin would have to come to your rescue. You dated all those guys to make him jealous. This whole time, you thought he couldn't care less about you, but it seems the whole time he was worried you hated him. 
"Well, that doesnt change the fact that you only see me like a little sister” 
“I kind of did, at first. You were my best friend, little sister, and I had to see you that way. Jaemin would kill me if I didn't. But I can't, not anymore. Truthfully, I never had.” He caressed your face and pressed his forehead against yours “I'm sorry if this is all confusing for you. I know it has been for me, but can we just try something?” He holds your eye contact, and your faces are so close that you can feel his breath. He smelled so good; the minty scent of his tooth paste mixed with the natural musk of his skin was driving you crazy. You had waited for a moment like this for almost forever.
“Anything; I'll do anything with you,” you say, almost forgetting to breathe.
He pushes you back and sets you on the counter again as he leans in and caresses your lips softly with his, teasing you like he has been doing for the past few years. You cannot take it anymore; you cannot wait anymore, so you take the dive. You press your lips fervently against his, causing him to hiss slightly from the sting, but when you try to pull back to apologize, he grips the back of your neck and reconnects your lips again. He moans into your mouth as you lick the cut on his lip, which will undoubtedly scar apologetically. You try to kiss him more gently but when he feels your hesitance, he pulls away just for a second to whisper, “don’t hold back”
Your hands find their way into his hair and his find their way under your thighs, hiking them up and around his waist. Things were getting heated fast, and you could hardly breathe. Everything you ever wanted was coming to fruition right in front of your eyes. When he finally pulls away to catch his breath, he does not waste any time kissing your neck. The force of his kisses makes you weak, and you have to lean against the mirror behind you to stay upright. 
You could hardly keep up; your limbs felt like they weighed a ton, and you could hardly hold your head up. The way he was rolling his hips into yours made your breath start to make condensation on the mirror as you laid your face on the cool glass. Jeno eventually found your lips again after his short exploration and claimed them hungrily.
“What's gotten into my baby? You can't handle it?” he teases
This was the first time he’s called you that, and it was driving your heart beat up dangerously.
“Don't worry, I'll take care of you, like I always do,” he murmurs against your lips before leaving you with a peck. 
He pulls you off the counter as he leads you to your bed. You were in a daze; your brain was running hot, and you couldn't even think of anything but the feeling of his hands caressing your sides from under your shirt. 
“Tell me you want it” Your eyes flutter a bit at his tone. He sounded so good. You needed him inside of you; that was the only thing you could think of.
“I need you inside,” you moan with a roll of your hips
“Gotta get you ready for that first,” he says as he begins to strip you of your clothes before he follows with his own.
You definitely had brain fog but the sight infront of you cleared it up. He looked so good, you had to bite your tongue before you let out an embarrassing sound. His broad shoulders and slim waist hovered over you tauntingly, like his body was begging you to mark it. His length stood proud against his abdomen, and you had to will yourself to meet his dark graze again. When he licks his lips, you pout and give him a "hurry up" look.
 He wastes no time and starts stretching you out over his fingers. You return every kiss and nip he gave you earlier and more. You mark up his neck with kisses and bites and leave pretty claw marks down his back  and chest as he works his fingers in and out of you skillfully. He had to bite back the groans that threatened to leave his mouth as you gushed all over his fingers. He couldnt wait to feel you around his cock. You feel yourself getting so close. You roll your hips as he scissors you open. He senses how close you are and hooks his fingers as they drag deliciously against your walls. You finish all over his fingers.
“You must have been so pent-up, baby; that didn't take long at all?” he coos teasingly
You shoot him a glare and retaliate by wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him into place. You grab his length and stroke it. You give him a few sensual pumps before you crack. You wanted to tease him like he's been torturing you, but you couldn't keep waiting; you needed him inside so you slipped him in. He chuckles softly at your failed attempt to get back at him and pecks your lips affectionately. You shudder at the feeling, and your walls are squeezing him so tight that the soft patterns he was drawing on your skin turn into harsh grasps of your hips while his soft chuckling turns into a surprised gasp. He moans softly as he tries to ground himself.
“You want it bad, huh?” he tries to get you to beg but it comes out more whiney than domineering 
“No more waiting; if you wont do anything, I'll do it myself,” you threaten. 
He finds your threat cute and has decided to take mercy on you. He strokes slowly at first, making sure you’re not hurting or uncomfortable. You loved this man, and you loved how much he cared for you, but right now you didn't want that. Despite his constant nagging, he has always been nothing but gentle with you for as long as you can remember. You don't want that side of him. You want it rough.
“Dont hold back,” you mirror his words from earlier “you wont break me,” you reassure him when you see worry settle into his features
“What if I do?”
“I want you to,” you whisper back 
That seems to do the trick because now he was hoisting your hips up, tilting them to fuck into you as deep as he could. Your lower half is lifted from the mattress and all you can do is hold on to the sheets. He was thrusting in deep, craving as much contact as possible. 
You try to match his pace and fuck back on him, but you grow tired and just settle for taking everything he gives you.
He sets your hips back down before yanking one of your legs over his shoulder. He starts back  up again, and you can see the way his veins strain against his arms at the force he's using to fuck you. You were sure to have pretty bruises in the shape of his hands in the morning. The bed creaked loudly as he pounded you into the mattress, and you prayed that Ryujin wasn’t home yet. 
It was like he couldn't keep his hands off of you; they were never still on your body. First they were grasping your hips, holding you steady as he drilled you, then they were grasping at your breasts, and finally one of them took a purchase wrapped around the base of your neck. He wasn’t applying much pressure; he was just holding it there.
Your walls flutter around his cock and hw tightens his grip around your neck at the feeling. He can tell you’re about to cum and when you do, he has to hold you down with his other hand. The lack of air triggers your survival responses and heightened senses, making you feel everything tenfold. The burn against your throat hurts, but the pain mixes with the pleasure to give you a beautiful ending. You can tell by the sticky warmth that fills you and the groan that follows that Jeno wasn't far behind at all. He rolls off of you and plops down on the space beside you to catch his breath. You pull yourself up and start to get out of bed before he grabs your arm.
“Where are you going?” He asks as hurt crosses his features.
“I need the bathroom,” you explain, sleepy “This is my house anyway; you thought I was going to leave?” You joke with a laugh
Jeno visibly relaxes for a second before he too gets out of bed. He makes his way over to you and helps you to the bathroom. You go to the bathroom, and he runs a bath, and you realize how much more domestic your relationship has become in the last few weeks, to the point where it feels natural.
He helps you into the bath and slips in behind. You two talk more in the bath as he pampers you. You have never felt more at home than when you were wrapped in Jeno’s arms. When you get out, he lays you back on the bed before cuddling up beside you. You study his face, and for the first time in awhile, you take a good, long look. If you looked close enough, you could still see traces of the boy you knew all those years ago under the man that stared back at you. For some reason, that made everything hurt. You knew Jeno would do anything to protect you, but who would protect him? With Jaemin gone, all he had was you. You shut your eyes at the thought.
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You don't know what your thinking; you just knew you had to be strong and that you were going to put an end to this tonight. You didn’t have his number anymore, but you always knew where to find him. 
It was getting late, and instead of heading to the gym for your weekly training with Jeno, you were on the other side of town. You hug your jacket tighter to your chest, bracing yourself against the cold winds of the night. When you turn a corner, the flashing neon lights almost blind you.
찬스노래방
Chance Karoake
You open the door to the front of the building and make your way in. You put on your brave face before trekking over to the back of the shady building. Room 0824 was your destination. 
This was the building Yuta ran most of his deals out of. Karaoke rooms are a known hotspot for drug deals and other illegal trades. It was rare to see Yuta here now due to the fact that he had to keep his image clean but you knew his schedule and you knew when he would pop in. Dont get him wrong; yuta wasnt some big-shot crime boss, he was just some kid who dealt in shady business. 
You knock on the door and wait. When the door swings open, a cloud of smoke hits you in the face. The room stinks of weed and disposables, the smoke burning your eyes as you try to focus on the figure in front of you. 
Cheshire grin meets an apprehensive frown as you stand face-to-face with Yuta.
“Welcome home, doll”
You feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the man standing in front of you, the source of so much trouble in your life. The atmosphere is tense, filled with the lingering smell of drugs and the weight of unspoken threats. You knew this was your chance to finally confront him and put an end to this dangerous game you've been forced to play. With a steely glance, you lock eyes with Yuta and prepare yourself for the confrontation that will determine the course of your future.
“Don't call me that” You push past him and enter the room. There is plenty of sitting room on the couch, but you’re too anxious, so you decide to stand. A few of his friends occupy the room, and he doesn't have to tell them twice to leave the two of you alone.
Even after all this time and all your history together, you cannot bring yourself to look him in the eyes. Jeno was right; he terrified you. You could pretend to be brave all you wanted, but the truth was, you were just a scared little girl inside. 
“Don't push me, doll,” he warns before wrapping slender fingers around your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Where's your little boyfriend? Not here to save you?” he taunts
“I want you to leave him alone,” you grit out. You had to be brave.
“You think you can just walk in here and give me orders? You forget who you belong to?” He shakes your face in his grasp.
You rip his hand from your face and twist. No, you would not let him control you any longer. This had all gone too far. Despite feeling intimidated, you refuse to submit to his control any longer.
All you could think about was Jeno; you couldn't let him get hurt anymore because of you. You loved him more than you feared Yuta. You refuse to let him own you.
With the grasp that you have on his arm, you twist his wrist farther until hes crippling down onto his knees. As he winced in agony, you could see the fear etched on his face. With a steely resolve, you pressed harder. His cries echoed in the empty room as you held him in place, making sure he felt every ounce of pain he had caused. Your grip tightened, a silent promise that this would be the last time he hurt anyone.
“If you want to continue playing and keep your scholarship, I suggest you leave me the hell alone. Next time you harass me, I'll break it,” you spit.
With a final, warning glare, you released your grip on his wrist. His body crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as he clutched his throbbing wrist. You had made it clear that harassment would not be tolerated, and the threat of losing his scholarship hung heavy in the air. 
The weight that had been dragging you down for so long began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence and self-worth. With your head held high, you strode forward. Although you know for certain that Jeno would kill you if he ever found out, you think deep down he would be proud; after all, he created this monster.
When you get home, Ryujin’s on your ass for being out so late. When she had called Jeno and he hadn't seen you either, she thought the worst had happened. You check your phone and find 10 missed calls and even more frantic text messages from Jeno. 
You apologize for causing worry to Ryujin and explain that you lost track of time while out. You decide to quickly call Jeno back to assure him your okay. 
You wait as the phone rings, but there is no answer. You call again, and he still doesn't pick up. Something didn't feel right, and you grabbed your keys, rushing out of the house.
“You just got here; where are you going?” a stern Ryujin calls.
“Gotta find Jeno!” you call back before hopping back into your car.
For as long as you’ve known him, you knew Jeno could be a hothead sometimes. You knew the moment he heard you were missing, he went out himself to go looking for you. You drove to his house to find him. When you pull into his driveway, it's empty. You park and rush up the stairs to his apartment. You bang on the door until someone answers. You almost sigh in relief until you realize its not Jeno. The person on the other side of the door looked clearly aggravated. His black hair was messily strewn on his head, and his shirt hung off his frame like he just threw it on. 
“Can I help you? A raspy voice calls
“Uh, im looking for Jeno,” you ask the man
“He left like an hour ago,” he yawns lazily, leaning against the door frame like he could barely stay awake. “Its almost one in the morning. Whats going on?” 
“Its nothing; can you call me if he shows back up” you ask frantically.  If Jeno had left an hour ago, who knows where he could be now? You give him your number, and he tells you his name is Mark. You thank him and rush back to your car. Your about to pull out when your phone lights up. Jeno was calling you back.
“Hello? Jeno where have you been?” You feel a weight lift off your shoulder as you take your keys out of the ignition and slump back into your seat. 
“”I found Yuta”
“Jeno…What did you do to him?”
“I beat his ass,” he says, “and then I made him tell me where you were”
“Jen—”
“Why did you think it was a good idea to go and threaten him on your own?”
“I had too. I had to do it for me”
“Where are you”
“At your apartment”
“Stay there”
You get out of your car and lean up against the hood, and you wait to see his car roll down the street. 
You breathe in the cold, crisp night air and let it soothe your nerves. You did not want to argue with Jeno, not right now. Headlights blind you as a car pulls up behind yours. You hear the engine cut off and the car door slam. As Jeno quickly approaches, you prepare yourself for the confrontation. The tension hangs heavy between you, but you take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before engaging in what could be a difficult conversation. 
"Jeno, can we talk about this—” You're left speechless as his lips meet yours in an unexpected kiss.
Confusion and conflicting emotions swirl within you as you reluctantly allow yourself to be swept up in the moment, momentarily forgetting all of your worries.
He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours “Don't scare me like that” His hands caress your face like he can't believe your standing in front of him, like he's making sure he's not dreaming. His frame is shaking, and you’re not sure if it was the cool night air or the light rain that chose this moment to fall, making him shiver.
He pulls you in for a tight hug, and your heart twists, your throat closes up, and you cry. You cry because you never want him to pull away; you cry because you realize how much he loves you; and you cry because you’re both safe.
“Im sorry Jen i didnt mean to—”
“No excuses,” he says, shaking his head “promise”
You hug him back tight and bury your head in his shoulder. “I promise I wont do anything like that again” 
He pulls away from you and you notice hes soaked to his bones. The rain had picked up and was now pouring down over you two; you could only imagine your clothes were in the same state. You laugh and push his wet hair out of his face.
“Mark is going to kill us if we soak the carpet.”
“I think he's already upset; I woke him up earlier. Come on, lets get you out of the rain”
He leads you inside by the hand, and you kick off your wet shoes and socks. You try your best to make your way to the bathroom to change. Jeno brings you some dry clothes, and he closes the door and changes alongside you into something more warm.
You follow him to his room with light steps, afraid of waking Mark up for a second time. You lay down next to Jeno in his bed, and you tangle your feet with his seeking warmth.
“I feel like my heart starts beating again when our hands hold each other,” he whispers
“Back then, when we drifted apart, every day felt like I was drowning. Now because you are here, I'm breathing,” you confess
He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head “im not going anywhere”
And you believe him, because somehow you had always known he was your guardian angel. You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the reassurance in his words. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges may come, you both can face them together. With his arms around you and his promise to stay by your side, you finally feel at peace, knowing that you have found your way back to each other.
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talkingattumble · 1 year
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Hi guys! Here’s some advice from a cane user on how to spot a fake cane user/disability faker!
YOU CANT
You can not spot a “fake disabled” cane user. You can not know if someone’s “really disabled”, much less by just looking at them. Here are some common misconceptions.
“Cane users always need their canes. If they walk without it or put it away when it’s inconvenient, they’re faking”: WRONG! Many cane users are what we call “ambulatory” cane users. This means they don’t always need their canes to walk. I’m an ambulatory cane user, and I experience really horrible leg pain on the daily. However, I don’t always use my cane, and when I don’t need to walk or stand a lot in a certain place I don’t use it. And when I do use it, I may lift it off the ground or carry it in places that are sandy, gravelly, or otherwise hinder my cane.
“Cane users walk abnormally without their canes, someone who walks normally without their cane is faking”: WRONG! Many ambulatory cane users can walk in a way that seems “normal”. This doesn’t mean they’re not in pain, or not “really disabled”. This just means that their condition doesn’t cause a noticeable difference in walking, and likely manifests in a different way.
“Cane users always need their cane, someone who doesn’t use their cane at home is faking”: WRONG! Cane users may not use their canes at home, because at home they may be able to do things like sit down wherever and whenever, regain more spoons, and use other mobility aids. Additionally, some ambulatory cane users only need or use their canes when they are doing something physically taxing, like going on a hike or standing in a long line.
“My cane user friend told me this person looks like they’re faking, so it must be true”: WRONG! Being a cane user doesn’t immediately make you an expert on all different conditions and experiences. Your friend does not know the random cane user walking down the street, they are going off looks and stereotypes. Disabled people are not immune to being ableist.
“They enjoy their cane too much/they’re too happy/they decorate their cane, so they can’t actually be in enough pain to need a cane” WRONG! We’re people like everyone else, and we experience positive emotions too, even if we go through a lot of pain. To me, customizing my cane is like getting a tattoo or putting streaks in my hair, it’s a way of self expression. And we deserve to be able to talk openly about our full experience, which include the parts we’re neutral or happy about.
“They’re one of those cringey teenagers who name themselves arson and like dsmp, so they’re probably faking” WRONG! Do I even have to explain why saying someone isn’t disabled because of their name and interests is messed up and also stupid? Or did you already know that and just wanted to make fun of a disabled teenager?
“They’re too young to be using a cane, so they must be faking” WRONG! there are lots of disabilities or injuries that can cause young people to need a mobility aid. For example, I use a cane for my fibromyalgia.
“They only use it in private places, and never in places where people recognize them, so they must be faking” WRONG! In a world where anyone can just randomly take out their phone, take a picture of a cane user, and post them online to be made fun of, it can be stressful to use a cane in public areas. Also, they may not want people to ask questions, or they may feel embarrassed about it.
“I saw them switch hands, so they must be faking” WRONG! There are different reasons a cane used might do this, but I’m going to use my experience as an example. My fibromyalgia is not consistent. Sometimes one leg hurts more then the other. But as I said, fibromyalgia is inconsistent, and sometimes my other leg will start to hurt more or need more support, which is when I switch hands. And when both my legs hurt equally, I may switch my hand if it’s getting too sore.
“They told me they feel like they’re faking when they use their cane, doesn’t that mean they don’t really need it?” WRONG! Imposter syndrome is strong in a lot of disabled people, especially when for a lot of our lives we were told by doctors that we were fine and just being dramatic. Anxiety is also comorbid with a lot of physically disabilities, which only strengthens this. To add to this, something that I’ve felt and seen other disabled people talk about it, when their disability aid lessens the pain, they start thinking “well I’m not in that much pain so I don’t really need it” even though the reason they’re not in that much pain is because of the aid. I know it seems dumb, but imposter syndrome can be that strong and affects disabled people a lot.
“They don’t have a diagnosis, so they must be faking” WRONG! First of all, diagnoses are expensive. On their own they’re often already expensive, but counting the tons of tests you have to take to confirm the diagnosis? Absolutely ludicrous. Some may also choose not to get a diagnosis, so that they don’t have to deal with the prejudice and setbacks of being diagnosed. Also, some people use a cane for injuries, and for stress or fatigue related pains.
These are only a few of the things I commonly hear from fakeclaimers, and I wanted to just put out a reminder that fakeclaiming hurts the disabled community much, much more than it does ableists. Next time you see someone with a cane switch hands, or someone with a wheelchair stand up, or someone with crutches put them down, before you immediately call them out to a friend, take a picture, or write a post: does your fakeclaim rely on stereotypes? Are your reasons things that apply to ambulatory aid users?
If so, just stop. Be mindful. Please.
5K notes · View notes
angelplummie · 3 months
Note
here for revenge.
being lily's best friend - you grow up with her - you're in the donaldsons orbit for all your formative years. you develop a crush on art that turns into love as you grow older. your home life isn't so glamorous. you spend lots of weekends at the donaldsons. art has tucked you in. brought you snacks when you stayed up late for movie nights, making you and lily promise not to tell tashi. you were there when art and tashi got divored, held lilys hand and pretended not to be happy inside at the thought of getting closer to art.
lily gets into college - a big smart one because she has tashi's ambition and leaves you behind, you're still stuck at home because your dreams have always been smaller.
maybe its not appropriate, to still spend time with art. but he's lonely. tashi left, and now his daughter has and you're the only one left in his life that actually wants to be around him, that has always looked at him with stars in your eyes. its probably not healthy. there should be a boundary there. your lilies, not his.
but you like being around him and he likes having someone to take care of. you come over and he makes you eat something healthy and you needle him about spending all his time at home and how he should get out more, and he rolls his eyes, tells you he should be saying the same to you, you're young and beautiful and you should be dating around.
but how can you date around when art donaldson is your dream man? when you're happiest at his side, eating what he makes you. you want more though. you want to share his bed, warm it for him, you want to make him not so lonely, you want him to stop seeing you as a little girl and as the adult you've grown up to be - so you start wearing less and less around him. start acting more and more like a housewife.
art accepts it without even realizing. now you just need to find the right opportunity to pounce.
WHEW. this one is long so buckle up
“art?”
“mr donaldson.”
you roll your eyes.
“mr donaldson, how come you never started dating again?”
he chopped the lemon with a deft clunk, eyes never leaving the knife.
“never felt the urge.”
“what does that mean?”
“what i just said. never felt the need to.”
“hm.”
you sat on the island, next to the chopping board. your legs swung haphazardly, and you watched art as he chopped.
why was he playing this game? he could’ve told you to leave, to stop coming back and bothering him, that this was inappropriate. and yet. he didn’t even tell you to get your sorry butt off the counter, or some such dad-ism. the low glow of the many warm lamps that adorned such a luxurious house illuminated art so softly, he looked as young as the day lily was born. he was as fit as back then, if not meatier. he didn’t have the pouch your dad had, but the years had given him a thickness. instead of wasting away like most lean men did, he struggled to the other side. he got broader. layer upon layer of muscle encased in a thin finishing of fat. he was skinnier when you were a kid, but he had no reason to be lean now. under his chin a tiny hammock of pudge rested as his head tilted down, kissed by light stubble. his blonde hair was streaked in silver, but that somehow made him younger looking. made him glow. he had grown it out, by your suggestion. he was everything in the world a man should be.
“what about you?”
“i hate boys. they’re all stupid.”
“you got that right. you’re too good for all of them, never settle.”
“maybe it’s just boys my own age. theyre so immature.”
arts wide chest heaves. his eyes flick to you then flick back down. you see it all, and cross one leg over the other.
“maybe.”
“what were you like when you were my age?”
he laughs at the memory.
“stupid, immature, evil. if i was anything to go by you should swear off men entirely until menopause.”
air left your chest cavity.
“i don’t wanna wait. i want a fully formed one.”
you watched the muscles in arts forearms flex as he squeezed the lemon onto salad. the main course was cooking, was singing loudly on the stove. art had gotten into cooking after the divorce. it took all his attention and put it in one place, something complex and delicate and time consuming. it helped to clear his head. it wasn’t helping right this second.
“i shouldn’t say that,” he said curtly,”boys your age aren’t so bad. give them a go and quit hanging out with an old man.”
“but i like you, old man.”
art was so harsh on himself. he really wasn’t that old. and you really weren’t that young.
he pressed his lips together and kept squeezing. his pink lips, that gave his face the everlasting youth it held. he shrugged his shoulders in that way he did when he was confronted with the truth of your arrangement. there was something going on. something very, very, very wrong. you were the same age as his daughter. 3 months younger. he was the worst man in the world. the worst person to ever breathe. what could he do though? tell you to go? tell you to leave his house and never come back? what would become of you then? without him, what pillar of paternity would you rely upon? what new low would you reach? what men would you come across, and what would you do to please them? while he gingerly entertained you, you dangled something in front of his face that others would not have the restraint or morality to resist. if you had to move to another target, your next victim might not care so deeply for your wellbeing. were you not altogether safer, sitting in his kitchen, eating his caesar salad, rather than inhaling second hand cigarettes from old wrinkled fucks who might murder you, or worse-
“art?”
“mr donaldson.”
“you got a bunch of lemon pips in the salad.”
“oh.”
he set down the lemon.
“are you ok? you seem tense.”
“i’m good. are you cold? i can turn on the heating if you like.”
“no. it’s actually quite warm in here.”
he hears the zip of your hoodie and starts away from the island, under the pretence of getting a paper towel to deposit the lemon seeds on. your jumper clatters to the counter, and you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. low cut top. he knows that’s what you’re wearing. because that’s all it’s been for the past 2 months. your mini skirt flowers around you as you sit, but when you stand each swish and sway of the fabric is a death sentence. god forbid you take the stairs for some ungodly reason.
“hey, you know what you said about never having the urge?”
oh, fuck off, he thought. fuck off. leave him be. leave him alone. release him.
“yes.”
“you can’t really mean that can you?”
“sure i can.”
“i mean, you can. but i don’t think you do.”
you twirled a strand of hair in between your fingers. your stomach grumbled, loud enough that he could hear. you were so hungry you could die, but if you ate what art was frying your breath would smell like fish all night.
“let me check the salmon.”
“i’m not that hungry. you can’t mean that you never had the urge to. everyone has urges.”
“well sure. but after tashi, i needed a breather. a grace period, if you will. you can’t go from marriage with a woman like her right into dating.”
“but it’s been 3 years. you must be over it by now?”
he ignored the hope in your voice. ignore, ignore, ignore.
“i am over it. but. women scare me.”
he walked languidly over the salmon. it was ready.
“i don’t scare you, i’m a woman.”
a woman. he turned off the stove, and turned to fix you with a stare for the first time tonight. a woman. that was not the word he would use to describe you. your eyes were the size of saucers, and you bat your lashes languidly, like you knew how much you were making him suffer. you sat up pin straight, and twisted your spine to make eye contact with him. your body. he tried not to look. tried not to look in front of you and see the twisted grin come across your lips. but he was a weak man. the weakest of men, and his eyes dragged over where a fatherly view should never cross. your perky new tits, the press and curve of your ass against the counter, the plush of your thighs. it seemed you had grown up overnight, and didn’t know you were still a baby. you’re a baby. you knew what you were doing to him. you knew. he blushed involuntarily.
“you scare me most of all.”
his voice trembled. he hadn’t meant to say that. hadn’t meant to dignify you will any response at all. it had crossed his mind and then it crossed his lips.
your eyes lit up with extreme delight. he liked to make you happy, but his stomach churned with the thought of why.
“why?”
he turned back around, and plated up your salmon, adding potatos and asparagus from the same pan, drizzling it all in the residual oil.
“why art?”
“mr donaldson.”
a twinge of irritation tickles your stomach. what was he fighting this for? you’re all grown up now. you both knew what was going to happen. he was resisting fate, the inevitable.
all your life you had known he was the man you were meant to be with. from that first time he kissed your forehead as you dozed off on the couch, thinking you were asleep. when his strong arms would carry both you and his daughter, flinging you around, threatening to dunk you in their backyard pool. when he would catch your eye in the rear view mirror as he drove you around and winked. he was so nice. so nice and brave and kind and warm, and if you had to be with any man it should be him because you’ve loved him since you were 8, and now you’re old enough to claim it. you’re not just a dumb kid with a crush. you love him. you understand it being one sided back then. but it isn’t anymore, and you wouldn’t let him deny it. with gliding footsteps you approached him, drawing closer every second he didn’t turn around. a hand rests on his shoulder blade.
“just stop,” you breathed after a pause.
his spatula clattered to the pan with a metallic thunk. you pull your hand away like he burnt you. he gripped the counter with a sigh and hung his head.
“you stop. stop it now,” his voice was stern. you felt yourself shrink. art was never stern.
“i know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen. this has gone on far too long and it stops right now.”
a mere few paces from his wide curved back, you blink. the urge to touch him is overwhelming. you want to press your hand to his back, feel him under your palm and tell him you know he wants this. you know he wants this just as bad as you do.
but you don’t, because he’s angry at you, and he’s never been angry at you before.
“i’ve let you come here and cooked you food and watched movies with you because you’re a good kid. because i knew you as a kid and i know your problems with your father and i wanted to be there for you when lily is away. but you have taken this too far. you’re my daughters best friend. i have cleaned up your vomit twice, i baked you a cake for your 13th birthday- it’s not right. i’ve tried to be understanding, i’ve tried to ignore it, but you never drop it. never. your lack of self respect is staggering. you have to drop it right now or, im sorry but you can’t come back here anymore.”
every muscle fibre was clenched. if the counter top wasn’t marble it would’ve crunch and fell away under his grip. he couldn’t take it anymore. he didn’t know how much longer he could be good. didn’t know how much longer he could take resisting you.
maybe he was harsh. but it was the right thing to do. the only thing to do. he rested his elbow on the counter, and between his forefinger and his thumb held the bridge of his nose. he exhaled loudly. he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way, hadn’t planned it. but now it was out. he had stared the elephant in the room dead in its eyes. he felt lighter, somewhat liberated.
until he turned around after a few too many seconds of silence to see you turned away from him, slightly hunched over. he stepped closer, and saw your hands covering your mouth. you body jolted, and you drew in quick, grasping breaths. you were crying. he said your name, and you didn’t turn to look at him.
“i’m sorry. i’m sorry mr donaldson.”
all the relief he felt was replaced by swift, acute, crushing guilt. your hair fell over your face, shielding you from him. he said your name once more. you sniffed.
“hey, hey hey hey.”
against his better judgement, and because of the aching of his heart, he took you gently by the shoulders, and turned you to face him.
“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”
tears spill from your eyes and you wipe them away with a heavy hand, refusing to meet his eyes. his neck craned down to your eye level, his thumbs began tracing circle in your shoulders. a thoughtless gesture but one that made you cry even harder.
“i’m sorry. i don’t know what i was thinking. im just so sorry.”
“hey, it’s ok. it’s alright.”
“it’s not alright. i’ve ruined everything. i’ve made it- so- weird. i just thought that you- you wanted me. i’m so stupid.”
your mascara runs, painting your face with your turmoil.
how could you be so dense? you had been making him uncomfortable. he didn’t want you. the only reason he even let you hang around was obligation. because of what you meant to lily. you didn’t mean anything to him. you were just some kid. did he even think you’re pretty? you bet he didn’t.
worse than that, you had disappointed him. him. he was supposed to be everything your dad wasn’t. and now he was disappointed. you had failed. you had ruined everything. what even were you? were you even human?
“don’t. you’re not stupid. don’t say that.”
“i’m sorry. i just- i wanted to make you happy. that’s all i ever wanted. i wanted you to be happy with me. you were so- so- so crushed after the divorce, i-i just-“
he guides you over to the bar stool, and you let him. you sit across from each other. his hand touches your cheek, the other holds you shoulder still. the touch of his hand quietens your babbling, your eyes round and wet and open.
“you do make me happy.”
your lips parted, plump with crying.
“i do?”
he cringes at the hope in your voice, at the feeling in his chest that it stirs. the feeling in his whole body at touching, after so many years, your soft skin. the last time he held your face you were 8, crying over a bumped knee. he had very different feelings now than he did then. sympathy and concern had ebbed, making way for much darker, much more corrosive emotions. he felt guilt and want broil in the chambers of his stomach, and the evilness inside him told him how easy to would be to get what he wanted. how close he was.
“yes. you’re my favourite buddy, we have a great time together,” he ruffled your shoulder like you pat a dog, speaking quick to placate you.
the hope in your eyes dwindled.
“so,” you sniffled, “you don’t feel anything for me? you don’t-don’t want me at all?”
with your convulsive sobbing your chest rose and fell, and with each jolt you spilled further out of your thread bare top. he closed his eyes, and swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. inhaling deeply, his fingers released your shoulder.
“it doesn’t matter what i want.”
“yes it does, it matters the most,” you answer immediately, tears gone from your eyes, now sliding down from your water line and down your cheek, “what do you want?”
what does art want? when was the last time he asked himself that question? years. at least. he drew away from you. you felt sick.
he turned on the stool, ducking his head and cradling his face in his hands
“i want…”
what the fuck was he saying? he couldn’t say this to you. he couldn’t. but he was.
“i… you’re a very gorgeous girl. you’re sweet. you’re smart. you’re funny. i like you very much.”
he said it like he was confessing to murder. elbow resting on his knee, his hand covered his eyes with splayed fingers. god, he was going to hell for this. even saying the words felt like the deepest sin imaginable, and he was sanitising his truth extensively. what he thought about at night, when you went home and his house became cold again, when he got into the shower and mechanically relieved himself into the drain, that was truly deplorable. when he touched himself, it was you he thought of. invariably. everything a man could possibly do to a girl, everything a girl could possibly do to a man, he had laid up in his bed and touched himself to with you in mind. ropes and ropes and ropes of cum in your honour, so gently splattered on shower walls and bedsheets he needed to wash anyway. sometimes he came on his torso, just to feel young and frivolous, like you were. and when he did his brain would turn back on, and he would feel so guilty that he would lay there to soak up his guilt, a punishment for himself from himself. so yes. he wanted you. he wanted you very, very badly. with every fibre of his being, he craved you. and with every fibre of his soul, he hated himself for it. but apparently he was still talking. what his morality urged him his mouth couldn’t hear, or wouldn’t obey.
“so don’t think you’re delusional. you had every reason to think i might reciprocate.”
you watched him, glossy eyes wide as ever. he peeked from beneath his fingers, immediately covering his eyes again when he saw you watch him. he shouldn’t have said that. he shouldn’t have. that was bad, it’s only giving you hope, and there is no hope. he can’t, he can’t. he want to so badly but he can’t. god, no he can’t. it would be so easy but easy isn’t right and how could he ever look his daughter in the eyes again if he did? how could he look at tashi?
“mr donaldson?”
“mm,” he replied miserably.
“kiss me.”
slowly, exhausted, he lifted up his head. mistake. now he was thinking about it as he looked at your face, puffy and damp and shining like a star.
why did he look so disgusted? what was so wrong with you? you couldn’t stop yourself from barreling ahead, feeling his premature rejection like a rock in your stomach.
“just once. then i’ll leave and i’ll never bother you and you won’t see me anymore and i’ll go to church and ill get a therapist, but just once.”
he looks so tired. so tired and so fucking good. his eyes smouldered with deep thought, the thought only a mature man can have. he was so mature. he was so much larger than you. he could hurt you if he wanted to. he could make you do anything but all he did was look at you so tired it made you squirm inside. as your sobs died in your throat, regret and embarrassment become indistinguishable from desire.
he blinked slowly, and opened his mouth. the white of his teeth glittered. his tongue pawed the inside of his cheek. he was thinking about it.
how could he be thinking about it? he was the worst person in the world. and yet. and yet. one kiss. he could control it with one kiss. one kiss wouldn’t hurt. one kiss. he had kissed your head before. your cheek. what was so different about this?
wordlessly, he moved off the stool. heart in your mouth you waited. a tremulous breath shuddered from your chest as he took one step. two steps. three steps. until he was stood above you. his face was unreadable. not cold. not warm. just looking, appraising from above his brown lower lashes, down his strong kissable nose.
“one kiss?”
his hand rose slowly, palm facing upwards. his finger tips grazed your jaw, your chin, tilting your head up. fireworks burst in your stomach, and you resisted the urge to moan.
“one. that’s all.”
one. that would be all. one kiss and he would put this silly fascination away for good. a kiss is deniable. a kiss is nothing.
he stoops down, can feel the nerves vibrating from your skin. his head tilts slightly, and your eyes lock as he descends to your level. his hand moves into your hair, a combing hold. and you kiss. no tongue. your lips connect, mush and expand over the others. his nose touched your cheek. your arms remained stiff by your side as they gripped the stool. you felt the pinkness of his lips, felt the edge of his cupids bow. and then he pulled away.
there. one kiss. he had done what he had to to get you to drop it. had fulfilled your criteria, and now you could move on. now he could move on.
but if that was true, why was he leaning in again? why did almost tasting your saliva, a substance he had thought about in great detail, make him hungrier for it? why was almost having it worse than never coming close? why did he pull gently on your hair, making your head tip back, opening you mouth so he could kiss the part of you he craved; the inside part? why was he hard if it was over?
his tongue flicked gently inside, asking permission. your mouths closed together, making the kiss noise you hate hearing but love making. they open quickly and in sequence. your hands rise up to gently hover over his chest, barely grazing his shirt. you didn’t want to touch him too hard in case he dissipated into a cloud of smoke, an illusion.
but he was very real, and under your timid girlish touch he was undone. a soft exhalation like a groan into your mouth, and his tongue protruded. it touched yours and you tasted the salt on it, shivering. his other hand fell back to your shoulder, gripping so hard it was like had no idea what he was doing. feeling your mouth against his was all that there was. there wasn’t right, there wasn’t wrong, there was only sensation.
all the want he had saved for solitary and depressing masturbation now burst through his veins, into his actions and he kissed you with all the passion in him. with everything he’s never said, with all the times he held back with you, with tashi. he kissed you like if he didn’t he would die, breathing and groaning and grunting involuntarily. he mashed his face to yours, crushing your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before recapturing your mouth in a sloppy open mouthed kiss. it felt like steam evaporated from where your met, so hot and wet.
you didn’t know what was your and what was art, where you finished and art began. you meshed like the broken pieces of a vase slotted against each other. his tongue became so wild it clipped the side of your mouth in its frantic exploration, and you sighed.
ultimately it was you who had to pull away. you pulled your hands into your own chest, gasping for breath. he didn’t move an inch. he gripped your shoulder still, cradled your face the same. he opened his eyes, chest rising and falling graciously.
he surveyed you, still too high from your touch to feel guilt, with lazy eyes. he was so fucked. your eyes sparkled like glitter. your lips shined pearly with his spit. his.
“art?”
“yes?”
“it’s not just one kiss is it?”
despite himself, despite everything, he smiled.
“no. i don’t think it is.”
887 notes · View notes
b14augrana · 3 months
Text
Ad Astra Per Aspera
Your story goes deeper than what meets Alexia’s eye
Alexia Putellas x teen!reader
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pt. 2 masterlist
Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion. aditionally, alexia is pretty mean in this and there wont be a happy ending for a few parts 😬
A/N: massive thank you to this request for the amazing idea 🫶🏼. r is 18 y/o but still going under teen!reader. this is going to be multiple parts because theres so much i could do for this request that i find impossible to fit into one part and write to a good standard, so here you go!
The Stands
Football unites the world. It brings people, cities, and countries together, like nothing else.
You’ve seen it happen in your beautiful hometown of Barcelona — all you can see during the hours leading up to any match set to be played in the Camp Nou is red and blue in the sky. Blaugrana painted the streets below, and the entire city came alive with the commotion from the stadium.
You spent your entire childhood being part of the roaring atmosphere, waving your Barça flag proudly in the air alongside every other flag and wearing the infamous colours across your chest.
Most of all, you prayed with every bit of faith in you, that one day you’d be on the pitch, playing for the club of your dreams.
Everyone in the crowd had their own individual life. There could be a single mother, a lawyer who used up his last days of leave to attend the match, a young boy with his father, an elderly person on an outing with his wife, someone from abroad who’s spent thousands and travelled for hours to watch their favourite player in real life.
11 players could bring together almost 100,000 people just to watch them kick a ball around, and you wanted to have the same effect. You wanted to be so good at football and have the ability to transform a simple sport about kicking a ball around into 90 minutes of entertainment, performance, art. You wanted to do it with Barcelona.
You trained meticulously for months. You passed your small, worn out ball against the same fence in your backyard, you practiced your touch by juggling until the frustration made you storm away in tears and you learned new skills and used your own shoes as cones to pose as defenders and dribble around.
When you went to the Camp Nou to trial for the renowned La Masia academy, you were little and clutching your FC Barcelona backpack for support. The stadium already looked so big when you were up in the stands, but when it was empty and you were actually on the pitch, it was even bigger. You were stood on the same grass as your idols that once had the same dream as you, and that was unbelievable.
The start of your journey as a player at FC Barcelona had begun.
Day after day, you woke up early for training. Your siblings were never awake at that time, so the rare moment of peaceful alone time with your mother was something you looked forward to every morning.
She drove you to the La Masia facilities and then picked you up at sunset. Sometimes, when she had to work late, you and some of your teammates would go to the park and play with the other local kids until your parents came.
Those were the same teammates that you got promoted to the B team with, and the evening 5-a-side games in the park never stopped. They were your best friends — you all shared a common dream of getting to the first team and playing in big tournaments and winning titles, and even though you realistically wouldn’t all be able to do that, no one ever stopped believing that one day it would happen.
As you grew up and your career just started to take off, things started to change. Not just in football, but your life off the pitch too. All at the age of thirteen.
Your father started coming home late. As if your mother was stupid, he’d waltz into the house in the middle of the night, claiming he had to stay a little late because a last minute meeting was called or he lost track of the time. The mild arguments started, and when the late arrivals became more frequent, your mother’s suspicions grew stronger.
One night, it came to a halt. Just when you stopped expecting it, he came home at his regular time; half past six. The only difference was, he didn’t look happy to be home at all. A frown tainted his face ans there was something off-putting about his demeanour. Soon, it all made sense.
You watched from around the corner, your head barely peeking out. Your dad shrugged his blazer off, and you noticed the way his mouth twitched as if hesitating to say something. Once he spoke, a big part of you wished he hesitated a bit more and realised down the line that he was making a bad decision, but it was too late.
The reason he was working late, the secrecy, the floral smells that lingered on his shirts; he was never working overtime, the floral smells were not from the diffuser in the office, and he did have something to hide.
It was called infidelity.
Your siblings emerged from their rooms as soon as the cacophonous yelling started, and you were quick to usher them away from the arguing.
The reality of how bad the situation really was hadn’t yet settled in, but you knew the outcome wasn’t going to be good.
Your youngest brother complained about his rumbling stomach, and the other two were quick to jump on the hunger train. For a moment you were stumped, because you didn’t want to go into the kitchen where the argument was taking place and get dragged into it, so your solution was grabbing a €50 bill and sneaking out to the nearest restaurant.
You were the oldest of four kids. After you was one of two boys, Lorenzo, and then the twins, Magdalene and Dani. They shared the same passion for football as you, and your fondest memories consisted on being in the stands of Camp Nou with them.
All of you snagged a table in a cozy restaurant, one you were familiar with due to going there multiple times with the rest of your family.
The hour you spent in that restaurant with your siblings turned out to be the last hour of a carefree life you’d get to indulge in.
The Pitch
You turned 18 last week, but you got promoted to the first team last month. The headlines painted you as an emblem of success for Barça’s youth programme, the future captain of the first team, and there were all these opinions flying around about you as a player. The opinion that mattered most, though, was that of your captain.
You and Alexia Putellas didn’t get along. Her opinion on you was nothing short of disapproving, and she let you know of that as you arrived at practice.
“(Y/N),” the woman said, her voice holding notes of irritation as she approached you. You looked at her, preparing yourself for the inevitable lecture.
“You’re late again. You might be young, but over here you’re the same as all of us no matter your age, which means getting to training at the same time as us,” she berated you, her hands set on her hips and her eyebrows furled in annoyance.
“Look, captain, I had to–” you started, but your explanation was cut short by Alexia.
“I don’t have time for your excuses. Do better next time, or you’re sitting out of practice entirely. Go run your laps,” she snarled, dismissing you with a wave of her hand.
You could only watch in anger as she stormed away while the others looked at you sympathetically, and you bit your tongue as you walked to the locker room and dumped your bag in your cubby.
She belittled you in every interaction you two had, which was a shame because you really liked her beforehand. In fact, you looked up to her, and you looked forward to being captained by her, but now it was hell on earth every time you entered the gates and met her scrutinising gaze.
Training was nothing special. It was the same old passing drills, small-sided games, shooting and free kick practice, and then before you knew it, home time.
You slung your bag over your shoulder and left before Alexia could stop you and give you yet another lecture. After stopping at the primary school to pick up Magdalene and Dani, you three drove to the middle school to pick up Lorenzo. Barcelona rush hour was rife around the time you picked up your siblings, so you spent another half an hour stuck in traffic until you finally got home.
All you wanted was your bed, and a nap. Still, you dragged yourself to the kitchen to make something quick for dinner so it was ready for your siblings when they were hungry, and then you tidied up in the living room.
Ever since your dad left, your mother was a wreck, leaving you as the successor to her caretaking duties of the kids. She was never a drinker, but after he left, she found herself depending on alcohol for a quick escape.
It was nice for a little bit; a short break from the world that always ended too soon. She kept chasing and chasing that relief until she was in too deep, and it was never enough. The bottles multiplied, the cans lined the rubbish bins, the stench polluted the air that once smelled of a fresh vanilla essence, and she became latched onto it.
You blamed your father for it all, because it was his unchastity that motivated every drink. Your mother was a beautiful woman who loved her family more than herself.
That was what ruined her.
“Hermana, hermana,” Magdalene spoke, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. You looked down just as you turned off the stove, and she rubbed her stomach, “I’m hungry.”
“Okay hermanita, ask the boys if they’re hungry, please,” you replied, smiling at her. She nodded and ran to their bedrooms, and soon they all emerged from around the corner.
After scooping generous amounts of macaroni and cheese onto their plates, you put some onto your plate and sat down with your siblings to eat. Together, you all talked about your busy days and they listened to you tell them all about your training. They loved hearing your stories about Barça, and every time, Magdalene and Dani would ask you to continue your stories until they fell asleep.
Tonight was no different as you tiptoed out of the twins’ bedroom, gently shutting the door behind you. As much as you loved sleeping after a long day, part of you also dreaded it, because it meant starting a new day and facing Alexia.
When you woke up, it was to gentle knocking on your bedroom door. You were awake enough to comprehend the quiet pattering of footsteps across your hardwood floors, and when tiny hands grazed your skin, you jolted awake. “Hermana, time to wake up! School time!” Magdalene chimed.
So your morning routine began.
With one sock and half your jacket over your head, you made three lunches for the kids right after making their breakfast. Your mother slowly slumped out of her bedroom, wrapping her robe tight around her.
“Bon día,” she mumbled, a smile on her face. With a glance over your shoulder, you acknowledged her before going back to slicing two oranges.
“Morning, mamá,” your siblings responded quietly, shoving food into their mouths to avoid speaking any further. She sat on the couch, sighing deeply.
As she walked past you, you could immediately recognise the stench of alcohol — no surprises there. Years ago, she would’ve smelled like warm musky perfume, not the pungent smell of chemicals.
“Can you make me something, hija? ‘M very hungry,” she said to you, looking your way. You kept your head down, sealing the lunchboxes and cleaning up the counter.
“No, ma, I have things to do. Make your own breakfast,” you responded coldly, “Hermanita, pequeños, bring your dishes here.”
Your siblings scrambled from the table with their empty plates, giving them a quick wash before retreating to their rooms to get their uniform on. On the couch, your mother was still begging for food.
“Hija.. I’m hungry,” the woman slurred.
“Mamá, I have to get your kids to school and go to my own job, which my captain is already angry at me for being late because I have to drive them all around Barna,” you hissed.
“Then I have to come home and make dinner after cleaning your mess. You can make your own breakfast, for once!”
You always felt bad for yelling at your mum, but your life was hard enough with trying to get to work and drop off your three siblings in time while worrying about making your mum a meal.
You had a chance at life. You had a chance to succeed, and you weren’t going to waste it. You weren’t going to rely on a man to look after you in the future until he turns around and wants to look after another woman, leaving you damned.
“Bye, mamá,” you grumbled, grabbing your keys from the bench and swooping your boot bag up from the floor.
It was Dani’s turn to pick which song to play on the radio on the drive to school. He chose a very popular song within your siblings; ‘Me Gustas Tu’. The song had been broadcasted on the radio one day, and everyone seemed to love it. Their favourite part of car rides to school was winding the windows down and singing as loud as they’d like.
Somehow, amongst your father leaving and your mother’s new habits, your siblings were always happy, and that’s what you admired most about them. Maybe they were unaware of the harsh reality, but they were still naïve and unscathed by everything that happened.
It was almost 9:30 in the morning when you started making your way to the training pitch. Mentally, you were preparing yourself for the big lecture you were about to get from Alexia and seriously didn’t need, but physically, you looked unbothered if not a bit tense in the shoulders.
You almost tripped on your way out of the car as you rushed around to get your gear. Walking into training everyday just to get yelled at by Alexia was never nice, but you were used to it. Unfortunately.
That wasn’t the sort of relationship a captain should have with one of her players. It was almost like she despised you, and if she had her way, you probably would’ve been off the team within the first week.
Sure enough, when you appeared on the pitch, the first thing you heard was the low whispers beside you.
“…She’s irresponsible and doesn’t belong on the first team. Being late once, I understand, but multiple times? Her excuses are not good enough–”
“Excuses? Ale, you’ve never let her explain herself.”
“There shouldn’t be any need for excuses anyways, because she shouldn’t be late at all. If she wants to take her time and be let off easy like a child, send her back to the B team. Look, she isn’t even here yet.”
“She is, though. Look behind you.”
The woman turned around, her glare settling on you and being as cold as ever. She spun her whole body around and folded her arms across her chest, her frown heavy.
You sighed, looking down to your feet. It made you feel even worse that you couldn’t help it, and you couldn’t explain it to her either, because that action had potential to get your siblings taken away.
“Drop your bag, get comfortable. You’re not training today,” she snapped.
Your heart sunk. You fought to fend off any tears from forming on your waterline as you nodded, raising your head slightly.
“Listen, (Y/N). This team is everything to me. I have lots of respect for the people who coach us and come here to be coached. You, showing up late? That shows a lack of respect for those people. You’re lazy, unorganised, irresponsible–”
Irresponsible was untrue. If anything, you were the most responsible person you’ve ever known, but Alexia didn’t know that because she didn’t care to know you.
“…I can’t expect you to represent our club and our city on big stages if you can’t even come to training on time. You aren’t FC Barcelona material, and unless things change, you never will be.”
Your lip quivered as your body aligned to bolt for the locker room as soon as she left you alone, away from the watchful eyes that surveyed you in pity when had you arrived. Alexia turned on her heel and stormed away past Mapi, whom she was talking to previously.
She left you in her wake, crestfallen and misunderstood, defeated by circumstances beyond your control.
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Everyone from babies to young adults suddenly disappears from Amity Park, and the ghost portal self-destructs as well. The GIW and the Fentons obviously come to the conclusion that it’s ghosts but realize that this issue is way bigger than they can handle, so they call in the big guns, The Justice League.
Of course, they don’t tell the Justice League everything when they come. No matter how much they thought themselves to be heroes, they were simply glorified police in spandex. And with how they operate, they are all too small-minded and won’t be able to see the bigger picture. They also knew fully well that a lot of their methods weren’t even remotely close to being morally or ethically right, and if the JL found out, they would be screwed. So they simply told them enough to get them on their side. 
Besides, how could they not help with how many people were missing? This was going to be easy.
_______
The Justice League didn’t trust the GIW. Something about them was just off. But so many missing people were on the line, so many kids! 
Ghost?
Should they call in the JLD?
_______
Jason knew something was off with Crime Ally.
Nothing was wrong per se. In fact, everything was going great. Crime was at its lowest in like… forever. The general atmosphere was more calm, if not a bit chilly. He himself was calmer. And there were fewer kids on the streets. Which would have been a good thing if this wasn’t fuckin’ CRIME ALLY!
Jason’s been stressing himself out, trying to find out what was going on. He’s been searching up and down, talking to people left and right. No one was reporting anything amiss. Some even told him that they still saw the kids walking around, though not as often as before. And they also looked like they were being well taken care of.
He even saw and talked to some of the kids himself and it was the truth. 
But when he asked where they went, they only laughed and ran away from him. Shouting that he would know soon before they disappeared around the corner. At this point, he was sufficiently freaked out and was so close to getting Batman to contact the JLD, but something told him otherwise.
A few days later Jason was in bed. He had ended patrol early that night and intended to get a full eight hours if he could.
But as fate would have it, he would not. Because just before he could hit the hay he heard it. Well, felt it would be more accurate but how could you feel a siren’s song? Pulling you? Drawing you in. Telling you that it would give you your deepest desire.
He didn’t even bother to suit back up into Red Hood. He just followed it. Followed and followed, Until he got to a dead-end alleyway. But there was no ‘end’. All there was, was darkness. 
He began to get skeptical and took a few steps back. But the feeling was still there. Pulling, telling that all of his answers were in that darkness. Everything he wanted, needed, awaited beyond it. 
He did the stupid thing and went into the darkness.
He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the feeling of walking through thick goop. But the feeling didn’t last long, and he eventually stepped out.
Again, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. 
Kids running around without a care in the world, unrestricted. Teenagers just hanging out and being kids too. Whatever adults he saw all looked pretty young, but they were all happy. 
He looked around and noticed that it looked like a weird mix between a suburb and a night market, but it worked quite well. The stalls were all unmanned, and it seemed whoever could just take whatever they wanted. Dim but pretty lights connected all the stalls to as far as his eyes could see. And the sky.
In Gotham, there’s so much smog and bad weather you’d be lucky to even see a piece of blue during the day so no wonder people often forget about the night. But this, the night sky wherever he was, was beautiful, beyond what words and even thoughts could convey.
“Hello, Mr. Red Hood.”
Jason jumped. Was he so out of it that he didn’t even notice someone coming up behind-
Forget what he just said about the sky. The woman right here that was now standing before him? She- She-
“Are you single?”
There was silence. Then she giggled. Guess Jason didn’t need his helmet huh? His face was enough.
He also wanted to die again but hey, at least she laughed!
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killuintense · 9 months
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leon taking care of you while you are ovulating!
it really was a whirlwind of emotions to be on your period, but most of all you suffered even more during the period when you were ovulating and seemed to be completely unhinged with Leon. sometimes you wondered why the poor guy hadn't ended up running away from you the instant that time of the month came when you saw him as a giant stuffed animal to keep your hands on whenever you could.
it was strange and annoying, but all too satisfying at the same time. on the one hand, ovulating you noticed those mood swings, going from happiness to absolute sadness or anger that made you want to crush your own bones. but your cute boyfriend was always there to make up for it, telling you it was okay if you inadvertently got too angry with him or crying for some stupid reason; he never blamed you.
nor did he blame you when you seemed to want to have your hands all over him all the time. but you were horny all the fucking time, and when he was at work you would fantasize about having him touch you at every turn, and when he was with you your hands would become a whirlwind on top of his body "what's going on, love?" he looked confused as you tried to lift his shirt and touch his pecs, pouting as you noticed he was ticklish and gently lowered your hands.
"let me touch you!" your whimsical voice caused him to giggle more, he knew you were like this because you were close to your period, and he always gave you what you wanted because he was weak to you. and it wasn't that it always ended in something properly sexual, sometimes they would just spend whole minutes kissing and he would let you caress his body, squeezing his arms, stroking his hair. It all seemed to make you feel full and satisfied.
that is until your period was near and your tits started to swell and get tender. it was the most painful moment but, as contradictory as it sounded, it was when both of you fucked the most. you were so sore, even before you bled, that the only thing that soothed you was your man's cock. even his hands, without going any further.
you asked him with that puppy face to help soothe the pain in your breasts. your nipples looked like they were about to explode and he loved the sensation of feeling them get so hard the instant he ran his fingertips over them "so cute..." if his fingers weren't enough, he used his mouth to suck on the sensitive skin to make you tremble under him. those massages he gave you, even if there was a connotation of arousal, soothed you too much. his voice resonated with love and care "i have to learn to take care of them from now on, don't i, sweetheart?" he would kiss the skin gently, in that just right spot he knew so it wouldn't hurt but would cause you a 'something' "when you are with your tummy swollen from my baby and your tits full of milk, i have to take care of you so they don't hurt" and there you felt it was the death of you.
you seemed to have everything you needed, because it wasn't really the desire of both of you to be parents —because you were still very young—, but your desires for Leon to impregnate you and leave his mark inside you at that time of the month were too overwhelming. you whimpered when he said those kinds of things to you, when his hands kneaded your swollen, sensitive skin. you were so bad, so needy and ruined that that alone was enough to make you cum... yes, just that.
he laughed softly, as without having to bury himself between your legs you were already completely wet and, much to his dismay, exhausted from an instant orgasm that only left you half asleep in his arms with the pain in your breasts calmer and your mind full of images of you holding the future love fruit of you and Leon in your arms. you seemed drugged by that sensation, almost without being aware before you fell asleep in a tranquility where you knew that even on the most sensitive days you would have your boyfriend to please you in whatever way you wanted.
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phant0mth1ef · 2 months
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i kissed the scars on her skin, i still think you’re beautiful.
-
can be read as part 3 to this boy’s too young to be singing the blues, or as a standalone :3!
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empty. your hospital room was empty. void of all life. the sheets were as if nobody had slept there in years, the window shades were put back to their normal, idle position, and all the decorations that class a had put up for you were now gone.
but he was still directed to the room where you were supposed to reside. he stood at the doorway, his jaw open as he stared inside, trying to look for any signs of life. because why else would they send him here if you weren’t there? you were still alive. right?
he was worried, to say the least, until he heard quiet muffled sounds coming from behind him, you were standing, your iv was right next to you as you looked up at the boy with half-lidded eyes.
“hi katsuki.” you yawned.
“you spent all that time asleep and you’re still tired?!” there was the snarkiness and attitude you knew and loved.
“exhausted really. come in.” you motioned for the boy to follow you as you made your way to your bed, sitting down and patting the space next to you.
“why’s it look like a grey’s anatomy scene in here?” he was always so blunt, even if you were currently in the worst shape possible.
“didn’t wanna get too comfortable. i don’t plan on living in here any longer than i have to.” something was off. you didn’t have that stupid happy go lucky smile on your face.
“my quirk. they took my quirk.” you looked down as the tears welled in your eyes, trying to smile but it was quickly broken.
you never knew what to do with your hands, so you just played with your fingers whenever you were scared.
“that’s what you’re so upset about?! you almost died.” even when you’re feeling down he still manages to scold you.
“i know but,” you sniffled.
“i just-. i really wanted to become a hero with you katsuki.” the boy was never one for emotions, choosing to hide them rather than showcase them.
but in that moment, he slowly felt his hard exterior crumbling as he swore his heart begun to break, you had meant every word you said to him, your tears were real tears.
“tch. you’re real dense, ya know that?! you’re already a hero dumbass. you fought in that stupid war. you earned the right to be called a hero.” he looked away from you, not meeting your eyes because he refused to let you know he was crying.
until you heard him sniffle, and you pretended not to laugh even though your own eyes were filled to the brim with tears.
“you cryin’ katsuki?” a laugh had slipped out as he angrily snapped his head back to face you.
“hah?! no! it’s just stuffy in here.” it was hard to watch him pretending to be tough while he had a tear falling from his eye.
“s’okay to cry, y’know.” you leaned your head on his shoulder, and he turned at your sudden action.
then proceeded to put his head on your head, making mitsuki nearly jump at her son’s sudden actions, and yet she was quick enough to grab her camera, quickly snapping a photo.
the same photo that bakugou had looked back on after eri had successfully rewinded your body to the time when your quirk was still a part of you.
the same photo that was on display at your wedding, along with about a gazillion childhood pictures of you both, you both had been in the background of many pictures despite never knowing each other, it was as if an invisible string had tied your souls together.
and sure enough, the photo was hung in your shared home, along with another picture of you both as pro heroes, your children walking by it every day on their way to school.
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cxrdycxps · 3 months
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Pillow Talk • Joel Miller
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☢️ Smut • p in v • unprotected • f!reader • no y/n ☢️
Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist
It didn’t happen every time you both slept together. Hell, sometimes it was a quick fumble in the stables or some messing around in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison.
This thing wasn’t serious between you both. He needed the stress relief and you were happy enough to give him some.
“Most of the time I just miss football.” He laughed, careful not to jostle your head where it lay against his broad chest.
He had just rendered you speechless after a night at the Tipsy Bison and now all he wanted to do was talk about what he missed.
“I miss fruity shower gels and shampoo that made my hair smell like coconut.” You whispered quietly and he nodded slowly, another chuckle reverberating in his chest.
You ran your hand over his stomach, a little soft even with the layer of hard muscle under. He was just so big, it made your mouth water from across the room.
Every time you caught a glance of those shoulders you got flashes of your legs being thrown over them while he ate you out like a starved man.
Every time he ditched the flannel so you could watch his biceps flex against his t-shirt all you could picture was the strain in them when he fucked you against the wall.
The stretch of his thighs against his jeans reminded you of the times where you hadn’t even made it up the stairs, rutting against his leg like a damned dog.
The sex was phenomenal. No matter how often or how sparse it was. It always shook you to your core.
The added benefit of sleepy pillow talk was always nice. Sometimes he talked about life before, sometimes he talked about how life had turned out. He didn’t often discuss the last twenty years.
“I miss celebrating my birthday. I’d spend the day of my birthday working or whatever. Then Sarah and I would do something. Then Tommy and I would hit the strip club at the weekend.” Joel shook his head with a sigh but you finally raised yours. “It all seems so stupid now. But we had been doing it since we were barely legal enough to get into a strip club.”
“There’s a million things to miss and you miss a woman shaking her ass for you to toss a few dollars to.” You teased and he rolled his eyes. “Tell me, did you have a favorite? Do you miss her?”
“Yeah, you know what? I did have a favorite, pretty little thing. She could shake her ass like it was no one’s business. Used to book her privately too.” Joel had no shame despite you trying to embarrass him and you could only laugh at him, propping your head up on your elbow to watch him.
“Well Mr. Miller, I know in this town we don’t celebrate your birthday. Mourning and all that. But if you’re really lucky, I might get you a present.” You winked at him as you slipped from the bed, grabbing for your clothes. Your sister would no doubt be wondering where you had disappeared to.
“Oh yeah, what’s that then?” He asked, turning his head to look at you as you pulled your jeans on.
“Well, when the world went to shit I used to be one of those pretty young things. And your favorite girl might have been able to shake her ass with the best of ‘em, but I’ll show you how a professional does it.” You promised, buttoning your blouse.
Joel watched you for a few seconds, his mouth agape before he reached a hand out, lightning quick despite his age. He dragged you back to the bed, pinning you under him and you were surprised to find him pressed against you.
“I ain’t got that hard that quick since I was in my twenties.” Joel grunted, working your jeans back down past your hips.
He didn’t take them off, pinning your wrists above your head and lining himself up with the other hand to slam into you with minimal warning.
You groaned loudly, arching your hips towards him as he fucked into you, one goal in mind. “Gonna shake your ass for me? Think you would’ve let me pay you for a private show? Course you would, my fucking girl.”
You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. It felt like he was filling you all the way. Like you could feel him taking up space in your air way. You could barely do more than arch your hips with how he had you pinned but you didn’t need to do anything else. Just let him fuck you.
You had had angry sex with Joel. You had been fucked, you had been romanced, you had done it all. But this? This hard and fast and brutal pace? This had to be your favorite. He had barely started and already you were sprung tight, ready to explode.
“Joel, I’m gonna-“
“Yeah, you fucking are. Gonna come all over me, I need it baby. Gonna take you in doggy next, see that ass bounce for me. Fucking knew you’d be able to dance. Knew that first day I saw you.” He grunted, fucking into you hard and fast. “Better find some lace baby, I want the whole fucking show.”
You couldn’t reply, throwing your head back and moaning loudly as you came and he continued to pound into you. He pulled out before he was finished and before you could complain you were flipped onto your stomach.
“Hands and knees, let’s see what those hips can do.” A rough smack against your ass had your scrambling to comply, knowing you wouldn’t be making it home tonight.
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miniwheat77 · 1 year
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Smash. (dbf!Captain Price x Virgin!Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, heeeeeefty age gap (reader is 21, Price is 47), teasing, daddy kink, rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mutual pining, this is filthy age gap Smut and you’ve been warned. (Sorry if I missed any.)
Summary: Captain Price is your dads best friend and you’ve been crushing on him since you were a little girl.
I know this isn’t a request but I’m procrastinating :)
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“Oh come on sweet pea, you haven’t been home for a family barbecue in three years now!” Your dad begs you on the phone. You’ve been off at college for three whole years. You haven’t made too much time to come visit, but there’s a reason for that.
Your step mom.
She’s awful. Uses your dad for his money, cheats on him constantly. At this point, you think she’s just a cover for something. You sigh, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Fine. But you better keep your hound on a leash.” You groan. “Hey. Be nice Y/N.” He rolls his eyes on the other end of the phone. “She doesn’t show her teeth, I don’t bite.” You smile cheekily. He can’t see it, but he can hear it. “Oh lord. What I would do without you.” He laughs. “Live a happy, stress free life.” You giggle. He laughs on the other end. “I’ll see you on Saturday sweet pea. Don’t forget, we had a pool put in since you last came, don’t forget your bathing suit!” He smiles. “Alright dad, I’ll be there. Love you, bye.” You laugh as you hang up the phone.
“That girl, gonna be the death of me.” Your dad smiles as he hangs up the phone. He’s sitting at a table with his best friend of twenty plus years, Captain John Price. “Is that Y/N?” He smiles. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to get her to come home for the barbecue this weekend. Finally got her to agree.” He laughs. John nods his head, taking a drink of his beer. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.” He smiles. “You’ll see her this Saturday. She’s been nothing but a pain in my ass for these last few years. Since she was 17, I think.” He laughs. “How so? I don’t have any kids so I don’t really know how they work.” John laughs. “Oh boy. She’s just a young woman. Moody, bossy. The girl has been boy crazy since she was 15.” He laughs. Placing a hand over his face. “Absolutely hates her step mom. Every time they’re both in the same room together I just want to strangle them both.” He rolls his eyes, tipping his beer up. “Although these last couple years she’s been super wild. Going out drinking, getting herself into trouble. I’ve seen more than 2 boys on her stupid Instagram she doesn’t know that I know about.” He sighs. John nods. “You think you were maybe too strict with her?” He asks. “Probably. But you live and you learn I guess.” He laughs. John finishes lthe rest of his beer.
You turn the wheel toward the parking lot of your apartment complex. It’s only about 30 minutes away from where your dad is, but you’ve been busy with school. Your car comes to a halt as you climb out, gathering all of your items and heading upstairs to your room. You pick up your phone, dialing your best friends number. “Hey.” You smile. “Hey Y/N, what’s up?” She asks. “You know how I’ve told you about the family barbecue’s I’ve had in the past?” You say. “Oh. You mean the one day a year you spend ogling at your dads best friend that I’ve heard alllll about?” She chuckles, making you blush. “Yeah, my dad convinced me to go and they installed a pool last year. So.. we need to go bathing suit shopping.” You mumble. “Is this finally the year?” She smirks. “Hopefully. You should come with me, get a good look at him.” You smile. “Alright. I’m down. I’ll come get you in 20 for the mall.” You smile. “Okay.” After saying your goodbye’s, you hang up.
When she arrives, you gather up everything you need, walking down the old metal stairs to your apartment. Feeling them buckle underneath you slightly, yeah the apartment you lived in wasn’t too up to date. But it was nice.
Your dad was really strict, and this time you’d spent away at college had been the most fun you’ve ever had. He wasn’t monitoring your every move, couldn’t tell you what to do 24/7, and you could come and go anytime you wanted. No curfew. Maybe it had to do with your dad being a retired military man. But he was strict and sometimes he could get a little mean. Everyone knew it, and nobody was surprised when you left. You open the door to her car, sitting down and closing the door after you pull your leg in. You put your seatbelt on and start talking about anything random as she pulls out of your apartment complex to head toward the mall. The drive is pretty short, it passes by incredibly quick because of the small talk you’re making. She pulls into the parking lot and the both of you make your way inside to your favorite stores.
When you finish shopping, you make your way into the food court, choosing what you want to eat. Eventually, the both of you are just sitting down at a small table. Listening to everyone else talking around you.
“So what’s so special about this guy anyways Hm? How old is he?” You blush at her question. “Oh god. How old is he?!” She laughs. “47.” You mumble. “Jesus! He’s older than your dad!” She laughs. “Yeah I know. And.. I don’t know. Ever since I was old enough to understand what a crush was, it was always him.” You shrug. She smiles. “Even still?” She asks. “Yeah. I’ve had one boyfriend that lasted like 2 months. That’s it.” You smirk. Taking a bite of your food. She smiles. “Because you’ve been so in love with this guy? Shit. You were legal 3 years ago, why didn’t you try sooner?” She asks. “When I was 18 I got into a big fight with my dad and I haven’t been home since.” You laugh. She nods her head. “Gotcha.”
“Also not to mention he’s a Captain in the Military.” You laugh. Her eyes widen. “Damn. I don’t know him but I’m in love with him too.” She laughs. “You will be.” You roll your eyes with a laugh.
The day of the Barbecue approached fast, and your best friend canceled on you because she was sick. You were driving alone, nervous. Anxious to see John again. Your stomach was curled up, waves of nervousness shooting through you. You hadn’t gotten over these feelings that you’d had for him for a long time, you thought you would. But now? You were convinced they’d never go away. At this point you knew it was more than just a dumb crush, but admitting that meant defeat and you wouldn’t yet. You wouldn’t cave just yet. As a little girl you dreamt of him day and night. Never boys your age, not even in high school when you hit puberty and had a crush on everyone. Nobody stuck. Nobody but John. Your dads best friend who was completely out of your reach.
You pulled into the driveway and noticed cars already in the driveway, pulling up as close to the car in front of you as possible. You hop out, deep breath leaving your lips as you start for the backyard where you could hear everyone. You open the gate, the loud creak that it makes gives away your arrival and all eyes are on you. There’s nothing but silence for a minute until your dad hollers that you’re here. He rushes over and gives you a hug and a lot of the already tipsy women start commenting on how much you’ve grown up, how you’re a woman now and not just a kid. When you’re done being bombarded by everyone, you spot John sitting in a lawn chair, beer in his hand. “Come on sweetheart. I’ll show you what we got to drink.” Your dad smiles. You dig through the cooler and end up grabbing a beer. You’d need the liquid courage to get you through this entire day. You followed your dad over to where he’s sitting and smile at John. “Hey Kiddo.” John smiles. “Hey John. How are you?” You smile. “I’m good. You?”
“Good. Just going to school.” You blush. He’s so perfect. So fucking attractive. You just want to jump him right in front of everyone here. You talk a little more with him before your dad calls him away from you to talk about something else with the grill.
You get caught up in conversation with a few other women there, avoiding your step-mom like she’s the plague.
A sigh leaves your lips. You’re sitting at a table inside, drinking a beer. You’ve had a little too much to drink, feeling a little tipsy. Everyone is already passed out or gone home. Tonight did not go the way you wanted it to go. You wanted to talk to John more. Wanted so badly to get to know him more. You’ve pretty much given up on it. Sure he’s probably already gone home for the night. You hear the sliding glass door open and your step-mom walks in. “Y/N. Will you please go keep John company? Your dad is drunk and I need to take him to bed.” You nod your head. Those are the first words she’s spoken to you all day. You stand up, going out to the back yard. There’s an older woman, her husband, and John left. “Hey sweetheart.” She smiles. “Hey.” You smile. You sit on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water. John is in the pool and she’s laying on the concrete. “Howcome you’re here all alone sweets?” He asks. “Oh.. I don’t know. I invited a friend to come but she wasn’t feeling too good.” You explain. She nods. “You don’t gotta boyfriend?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh god no.” You laugh. She looks at you. “Why’s that?”
“I’m surrounded by college guys, not exactly a fan.” You smile. John is listening, intrigued. “Your dad keeps talking about the boys on your secret Instagram.” She smiles. “Secret?” You smile. “I don’t have a secret Instagram.” You laugh. “Oh, he talks about it.” She smiles. You look confused. “Weird. The only guys I have on there are friends.” You laugh. “Just friends?” You nod your head. “Yeah. I need to take down those pictures down actually.” You laugh. “Why’s that?” She smiles. “They always pretend to be my friends and than they get weird. Catch feelings or something.” You laugh. “It’s cause you’re a real pretty girl. They probably just want a piece.” She smiles. “It’s always after they find out I’m a Virgin.” You mumble. John almost chokes on his bourbon that he has, eyes widening. His body is rigid. She laughs. “Wow. That’s actually kind’ve impressive.” She smiles.
After talking a little more, she drags her husband home. Leaving you and John alone. Something that makes your stomach flutter. “The advice she was giving you. Don’t take it.” He mumbles. “Hm?” You look up at him. “She.. is a little..” he waves his finger by his ear. You giggle. He notices the way you react to him. “You’re a real pretty girl you know? Don’t rush into anything. Find a guy who will treat you right.” He nods. You nod your head. You pull your shirt off, sliding into the water. You give him a good view of your bathing suit. “Can I ask you for some advice?” You bite your bottom lip. He nods his head. “Yeah, Cmere.” He nods his head. You swim closer to him, leaning up against the wall where he’s sitting. “What’s up?” He asks. You sigh. “Do you think I’m immature?” You ask. He narrows his eyes. “No. I don’t think so at all. I think you’re actually pretty mature for your age.” He smiles. You nod your head. “Why?” He asks. “Well.. I like this guy but.. he’s quite a bit older than me.” You blush. “How much older?” He asks.
“I don’t know if I should say..” you blush. “No older than your dad I hope.” He chuckles. You look down, crimson creeping up your cheeks. His eyes widen and he coughs on his liquor. “Jesus- how much older?” He asks, wiping his face. “Few years..” you mumble. “Older than me?” He asks. “Around the same age I think.” You breathe. “Just… don’t tell my dad on me, please?” You bite your lip nervously. He laughs, looking down. “What the hell do you want with a guy my age anyways? Do I know him?” He asks. You blush, looking down. “Yeah. Pretty well actually. I’ve liked him for a while.” You breathe. He laughs. “Jesus Christ.” He breathes. He runs a hand over his facial hair, seeing the way that the water drips off of him has you clenching your thighs together. “You have any advice?” You say nervously. He looks down. “Don’t go for it.” He laughs. “Hm?” You say. “Men my age will only take advantage of you.” You’ve moved closer and closer to him. “Would you take advantage of me?” You swallow hard, looking up at him. The way you look up at him is far from innocent. “I-“ he freezes. “John?” You whisper. “Yeah?”
You swallow hard. “Would you?” You breathe. He looks down. You’ve crept even closer to him, and when you’re right in front of him, he’s losing his mind. You breathe. His eyes widen and he’s silent for a minute. He sets his glass down, reaching his hands out and grasping your hips. He pins you to the concrete wall of the pool, hand resting on your throat. “You’re a good girl. Such a good girl, you don’t need to be with a guy my age.” He breathes. You whimper, tilting your head back. The way that you react to him shows him more than he needs. He moves his hips closer to yours and you clutch his sides for dear life, whimpering out when he ruts his hips into yours. He spins you around, until you’re leant over the pool wall. Crying out when he tugs on your hair. “Who is it darlin?” He breathes. “Because the way you’re reacting to me…” he trails offs. You’re panting out, he’d thrown you for a curveball. Sending you straight into a daze. “Use your words love.” He growls. The feel of his hips pressing into you, his hands on you. “It’s you- since I was a kid-“ you pant. Your eyes are watering, wanting so badly for his hands to be on you. Just as his fingertips graze over your bathing suit between your legs, breath hitching in your throat, he pulls away. “Look at me.” He helps spin you around. “As bad as I want to… Your dad is my best friend.” He breathes. You nod your head, as bad as it hurts you, you understand. You’re still breathing hard, as he creates a few more inches of distance, reaching out to run his finger along your bottom lip, loving the way you react to him, parting your lips even more. Closing your eyes and tilting your head back just slightly. It’s a small gesture but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You swipe your tongue over his thumb. The taste of his skin is amazing, even when it’s mixed with chlorine.
He bites his lip, pulling his hand away. “Such a good girl f’me.” He breathes. It’s quiet, you almost miss it. When he says it, your body lights on fire. Having him touch you, his hands on you. It’s almost too much for you to handle. When you finally pull yourself out of the trance like state he’d put you in, he’s moved a couple feet away from you. Which is perfect timing. Your step mom makes her way out of the back door, sending John a smile. “Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go.” You narrow your eyes at her. “What?” You ask. “It’s nearing nine, you need to head on home.” She crosses her arms. “Uh.. I think she’s been drinking.” John looks at you. “That’s not my problem, she’s not welcome to stay here. Our guest bedroom is my office now anyways.” You roll your eyes and John can see the attitude on your face as you look up at her. “Have a good night John.” She smiles at him. “Remember, the couch is always open.” John expects you to be a little more upset than you are. But you aren’t. You step out of the pool mumbling out a “fucking bitch.” Under your breath. John smiles at your aggression. “I can give you a ride home?” John asks. “I’m sure I’ll be fine John, besides, I think you’ve had more to drink than me.” You laugh, wrapping a towel around you. He smiles, climbing out of the pool. His body is soaked, drips of water sliding down his chest. You want to drool at the sight of him. sliding a t-shirt on. His cargo shorts were soaked but he didn’t care. “Honey, I’ve got twenty plus years of drinking on you.” He laughs. “Takes a lot to get me drunk.” You smile. John is about to offer again, the door opens. This time it’s your dad. “Hey. I didn’t know you guys were still here.” He smiles. “Yeah. I would’ve stayed longer but Y/N caught the wrath of your wife.” John raises his eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”
“Told Y/N she wasn’t welcome to stay.”
Your dad looks down at his feet. Glancing back at the door. “She’s just.. in her own space. You know? You understand, right Y/N?” He says. Your lips part slightly. “Cmon Y/N. You can stay at my house.” John nods his head. You send your dad a death glare, following after John. “Oh and uh.. it’s not really my place, but letting your daughter who’s been drinking drive home on her own and choosing a woman over your own kid.. dick move.” John shakes his head at him, sliding his hand over your lower back and walking through the wooden gate with you.
He walks you out to a large truck in the driveway, it’s brand new, shiny black with leather seats. He opens the door for you, helping you up inside. He rests his hand on your thigh until you’re settled, closing the door once you’re inside. He makes his way around the front, opening up his side and climbing in. He starts it, backing up out of the driveway. The way his hands grip around the steering wheel, veins popping out on his hands. He’s sexy, it’s hard to ignore. You bite your lip, clenching your eyes shut. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the throbbing between them. John feels bad. He’s upset by the fact that your own dad treats you that way, and allows his wife to treat you like that. What bothers him the most? Is how unbothered you are by it. How you seem so used to it, you don’t even care anymore. “You don’t deserve that, you know?” He mumbles. He reaches his hand across the center console, resting his hand on your bare thigh. His hand is warm against your cold skin, and for once in your life, you could give that stupid bitch a hug for doing what she did. She got you alone with John Price. The guy you’ve been crushing on since you were a kid. “I know, but it’s normal to me. You see why I haven’t showed up for any gatherings?” You smile. He nods his head. “Yeah, definitely. I had a lot of respect for your dad until tonight, can’t believe that.” He rolls his eyes. “Like your little attitude you threw, bet you’ve got more fire in you than that.” A giggle leaves your lips, and he smiles at it. “Oh yeah. She’s brought out the absolute worst in me.” You smile. He gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, not missing the way that you slide down into the seat unintentionally. Your body was begging for his touch, wanting his his hand to creep up just a little bit higher.
John pulls into his driveway, quickly climbing out and making his way around the truck to your side. “Sorry, haven’t got the running boards for it yet. They’re on back order.” He explains. “That’s okay, I can jump.” You giggle. John helps you down from the seat, fingertips lingering a little longer than they should on your hips. John feels his phone vibrate in his hand, ignoring it as he leads you up to the front door. When you step inside, you smile. He’s got a very nice house. “Wow. It’s really pretty in here.” You smile. “Pretty?” He laughs. “Yeah, pretty. I like it.” He passes you a hoodie he’d been wearing earlier that morning. Assuming you had no other clothes to sleep in. You thank him, and he shows you to the bathroom so that you can change. He changes too, finishing before you. He sits down on his couch, finally taking a moment to look at his phone. It’s a message from your dad.
I don’t appreciate what you said about what happened today. Involving yourself in our business. What happens between my family is to stay within my family.
John thinks for a while about a reply. But eventually decides to just leave it alone and ignore him. He’s pissed off. You don’t deserve it. This was an entire new side of your dad that he’d never seen before. A side John didn’t like at all, it really made him want to re-evaluate his entire friendship. He no longer had the same respect for the man he did originally. The best thing about him was his daughter. You. John thinks for a minute. Running his fingers over his facial hair. You come back from the bathroom, wearing only his sweatshirt. As you pass by him, he stops you, grasping onto your knee and pulling you in front of him. “John…” you mumble. “What are you doing?” You mumble. “Just.. admiring you sweetheart.” He looks up at you, pulling you into him. Looking at you. You look down at him, biting your lip nervously. He grasps your thighs, tugging you further. You straddle his hips and his fingers slide up your bare thighs. Sliding slightly under the sweatshirt. He expects to feel panties, or your bathing suit, but his eyes widen when he feels nothing. He brings his hand between your legs. “I thought..” you pant, clutching onto his shoulder. “I thought you said you-“ he cuts you off when his fingertips touch your opening for the first time, the first time you’d ever been touched by a man. A gasp leaves your lips and you’re soaking wet. Coating his fingers when he’s barely even touched you. You like him more than he thought. “Yeah, maybe what your dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He smirks. “You’re so wet for me sweetheart.” He rubs gentle circles over your clit, making you moan out, rocking your hips into his touch.
“John?” You mewl. He looks at you, a smile on his face. “Yeah?”
“Will you have sex with me?” You whimper. He swallows hard. “But you’re a virgin sweet girl.” You nod your head. “I know- but I’ve saved it for you.” You breathe out. “I only want you John. I want you to take it.” You rock your hips into his hand more, body shaking at the intensity of him touching you. Your skin is hot against him. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. He bites his lip. He wraps his hands around your waist, lifting you up. He walks down the hallway to his bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot and laying you down on his bed. “I don’t have condoms or anything.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You breathe. “I want to feel all of you.” You breathe. Your desperation is turning him on. Nobody has ever shown him anything like this. John hasn’t been with a woman since he was in his mid twenties, and he gave up on relationships and women. Trashed the idea completely. But you.. you came into the picture. Pretty black bathing suit. Smooth skin, innocent eyes that helped conceal such a dirty little secret. So young and pretty, and you wanted him. You were desperate for him. Begging him to take your virginity even. John’s breathing is a little sporadic, he’s nervous too. It’s been so long. He doesn’t even really remember sex. You make him feel young again, and he’s a little worried he might ruin this.
He keeps touching you. Kissing and biting at your skin, running his fingers over your opening and eventually sliding them into your slick hole. Sliding them in and out of you, scissoring them until you’re squirming, begging him for more. The way you say his name. Caught somewhere between a moan and a mewl, it kicks his body into overdrive. His cock is rock hard, throbbing against his leg. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Nothing ever really got to John anymore. Not until now. “Do you think you’re ready for me, princess?” He smiles down at you. You’re completely naked now, tits on full display for him to tease. He’s been toying with them for a while, sucking and swirling his tongue around them. You’re soaked, body begging for him. You nod your head eagerly. He pumps his cock, using your wetness to help lubricate himself. He lines himself up with your entrance and you keep your legs spread for him. He watches you for any discomfort or any signs that you’re going to stop him, but you don’t. You hold your legs open, biting your lip. Excited that he’s going to take your virginity. Your pussy is wet enough, he doesn’t have to stretch you too much. You feel slight pinching as he inches deeper and deeper into you, but a moan leaves your lips when he bottoms out. Your hands jumping to clutch at his bed sheets. “Are you okay?” You nod your head. “Yes- yes!” You whimper. “I feel so full.” You whimper. Your eyes are watering slightly and it hurts more than you want to admit, he can tell. But you’re so excited to be having sex with him, those fantasies you’ve been having for so many years finally coming true, and they’re so much better than you ever thought they’d be. He rocks his hips back and fourth, hearing you cry out as he does. He smirks. Hoping you don’t notice how much he’s enjoying seeing you such a mess.
You’re crying after a few thrusts, tears streaming down your face at the overstimulation you feel. It only took you a few minutes to cum for the first time, his thumb moving back and fourth against your clit until you started crying, and he finally let go. Him giving your body what you had so desperately wanted, for so long. Your body gave into him right away, tightening around him and soaking his cock. He bites his lip, thrusting into you still. “So pretty..” he smirks. “That’s it.. cry for me sweet girl.” He bites his lip, thrusting a bit harder than he had before. Another sob leaves your lips, your body shaking. “I’m gonna cum again!” You cry. He leans down into you. “Look at me sweetheart.” He breathes. You look up at him. “Watch me when you cum.” You lazily nod your head, eyes watery. Your tears are shiny in the moonlight dipping through the curtains and his lower stomach is clenching up tight. Knot wound up in his stomach. A cry leaves your lips, your fingers gripping onto the sheets tightly as you cum again, this time, he groans out. Hips stuttering to a stop as he finishes inside of you. The feeling of you clenching down around him is too much. And he rests his head on your chest. You run your hands through his hair, something you had dreamt about doing for so long. He’s panting, coming down from his high. “Fuck.. did so good for me sweetheart.” He breathes. He collapses on top of you with a groan. Once he relaxes, he slides out of you with a gasp. He lays next to you, holding onto your hand. You’re panting hard. He stares up at the ceiling, in shock. He just took your virginity, his best friends daughter.
He took it, your virginity.
He blushes hard as he stares up, still in shock. No woman has shown John any attention in years, how lucky is he that a woman as pretty as you likes him? Let him touch you even. He sits up, getting up to clean himself up. He takes a deep breath, drinking the sight of you in. You look so pretty in his bed. When he finishes cleaning up, he cleans you up the best he can. He slides his hoodie onto you, trying not to wake you up. He lays down, pulling a blanket over the both of you, pulling you into him. Your hair smells amazing and he breathes out, feeling an ache in his chest. Just as he’s about to fall asleep, he wonders. What happens if he falls in love with you?
The next morning, you wake up to his side of the bed being empty. You sit up, groaning as the muscles in your legs and lower stomach burn. He really did a number on you last night. You rub your eyes tiredly, taking a deep breath. Your cheeks are burning, the thoughts from last night running through your head. You’re going to have to face him again, see him. The man who took your virginity. The man who you’ve had feelings for forever, that you could no longer hide. Just as you’re about to stand up, John walks in. He’s holding a glass of water. “Here.” He smiles, passing it to you. He holds his other hand out, he’s holding something. You open your hand and he places medicine in it. “I know you’re probably sore, baby.” He runs his hand up your thigh. You take the medicine, drinking some of the water. When you’re finished, he takes it from your hand and sets it down. “There’s coffee in the kitchen too. I made it.” You smile. You go to stand up, but your knees buckle underneath you. He catches you before you topple to the ground, a gasp leaving your lips. You can feel his warmth from the night before spilling out of you.
“What? Are you okay?” He asks. “I.. yeah. Just..” you look down. He swallows hard when he sees it. “I tried to clean you up the best I could…” he mumbles. “Fuck that’s so hot baby.. I need to walk away.” He laughs. You look up at him, seeing he’s turned his head. “You don’t have to..” you mumble. He looks at you, eyebrows raised. “You.. want me to fuck you again?” He blushes, trying to hide it. You cover your face with the sleeve of his hoodie, blushing. He smiles, reaching forward and pulling it away from you face. “All you had to do was ask baby.” He smiles, reaching for the buckle on his belt. He’s already dressed. You’re blushing hard, avoiding eye contact. He chuckles at you. “Blush for me princess, makes you so cute.” He leans down, his nose nudging against yours. He grasps your thighs and slides you to the edge of the bed, pushing his jeans down his legs enough to where he can get closer to you. When he slides in, you gasp. It feels much more intense than the night before. He tilts his head back, swallowing hard. His adams apple bobs and you blush even harder, moaning as he rocks his hips into yours. You’re still covering your face with the sleeve and he grasps both of your hands, leaning over you to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me..” he moans. “You’re so fucking pretty baby, such a pretty girl.” He gasps. Hips rocking into yours. He’s trying not to be too rough, he knows you’re sore. Your hair sprawled out on his bed, it’s something he wants to see forever. He knows you’re young and as selfish as it’d be of him. He needs to make you his. No matter what it takes.
The cup of coffee in your hand is heavenly, he was a master at making coffee. The seat in his truck is warming up, and you’re comfortable as he drives to your dads house. When he pulls up, you look confused. “Where is my car?” You ask. John shrugs. “Don’t know. That’s weird.” Your growl. Opening the door to his truck. “That fucking bitch.” You mumble. John grasps hold of the column shifter, throws his truck in park and gets out, following after you to the front door. He holds back a smirk when he sees you walking with a slight limp, legs still shaky. So bold yet so weak for him. You knock on the door and tilt one of your hips out, resting your hand on it. He likes it. Angry mom behavior.
Your dad and Step-mom answer the door, giving you a surprised look. “Hey Y/N.” Your dad smiles. “Where is my car?” You ask. He looks at your step-mom. “I thought you said she came and got it earlier?” He asks. She pouts. “I’m sorry, it was in my way so I had it towed.” He laughs. “Oh that’s okay sweetheart. I’m sure she’ll understand.” You’re fuming and John can see it. “No, it’s not fucking okay. Are you kidding me?” You’re seething. “Watch your mouth young lady.” Your dad warns. “Or else what? Huh? What the fuck do you have in mind exactly? Kick me out? Say I’m not welcome? Pick your stupid whore of a wife over me? Oh wait.” You roll your eyes. “You’re paying for these goddamn fees.” You point a finger at her. “Hey, Y/N. It’s okay. I can give you a ride home for now.” John reaches out to grasp your arm. “John..” you groan. “It’s not your responsibility.” You mumble. “It’s my fault for trusting my car over night with a lying, cheating, skank, whore roaming around.” You growl, taking a step toward her. John steps forward, pulling you back. “Come on, I’ll take you home Y/N.” John tries to tug you away but you don’t budge. “She’s a big girl John. Let her fight her own battles.” Your dad looks at him. John crosses his arms, looking unimpressed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t let her fight this one. She looks like she’s about to tear your wife’s face off.” John looks at him. “This is none of your business.”
“Y/N is my business now.”
Your dad looks at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks. John can see the little devil in your eyes. “You let your daughter go home with a man twice her age, what do you think that means, hm?” You smirk. His eyes move back and fourth between you and John. He shakes his head. “John wouldn’t do that. He respects me too much.”
“No, I don’t respect you at all after last night and today. You treat your own daughter like shit.”
Your dad looks at him. “Yeah but that doesn’t mean that you’d..” the smirk on your lips. The hint of mischief in John’s eyes. “You slept with my daughter?” Your dad is fuming. John swipes his hand off on his jeans. “Yeah. I fucked her. Took her virginity actually. Made her cum all over my cock. And you know what my favorite thing is actually?” He pauses. “When I fuck her again, tonight. I’m gonna make her call me daddy too.” Your dad is still fuming. “You mother-“ your step mom stops him. “It’s okay, just forget about her.” She mumbles. “Cmon John.” You grasp his arm, finally pulling him away. You both get into his truck.
John drives for a minute, pulling off of the road onto a back road, where nobody can see anything. You’re silent for the whole ride, and after he parks, you finally take a deep breath. “Holy fuck I can’t believe that.” You say, eyes wide. “Yeah I know.. I took it too far I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighs. “Are you serious?” You look at him. A laugh leaving your lips. “We finally put them in their place.” You laugh. “What you said? Was so fucking hot.” You say, still in shock. John laughs. You look at him, moving over the center console to straddle his hips, smashing your lips to his. He grasps your hips. You rock your hips into his, desperate for his cock again. He shoves his foot into the metal pedal, his seat sliding all of the way back with a cranking noise. He’s kissing you back with just as much force as you’re kissing him with, his hand grasping on your shirt and squeezing you into him as tight as he can. You have your hands wrapped around his neck, and he pushes your shorts down your legs, the ones you had on the day before. He unzips his jeans, pulling his cock through the hole. You hover over him, sinking down onto him with a moan. His mouth muffles it. When you pull away, rocking your hips into him, he relaxes. Letting the pleasure take over. “Oh fuck yeah baby-“ he gasps. You’re bouncing your hips into him faster, leaning in to kiss him as hard as you did before. He’s moaning into your lips, thinking about how dirty this is. However he got himself in this situation, he’s happy. You make him feel young again, so fucking crazy. You pull away, resting your forehead against his. Panting hard as you keep a steady pace. You moan out. Tilting your head back. “Fuck-“ he reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your clit. “Say it.” He mumbles. “Hm?” You ask. “Say it.” He pants. His hand connects with your bare ass in a harsh slap. “Say what I want you to say baby..” he smirks. You blush hard, “Daddy…” you pant. He bites his lip. Tilting his head into the seat behind him. “Fuuuck.. that’s so fucking hot princess.” He groans. You lean into him again. And he looks at you. “Fuck.. I love you.” He breathes. Chest heaving. His eyes widen after he says it, he doesn’t mean to. You kiss him again, steadily rocking your hips into him.
He’s right at his peak, and he knows you are too. “I love you too.” You say it when you pull away and the sparks that shoot through him, it’s too much. He’s right there, so close. He starts to lift his hips up into you, groaning out. “Oh fuck- Daddy!” You cry out. “Yes baby, I know you’re so close. Cum for me.” He breathes. “Cum on my dick again baby-“ he’s breathing so hard, it feels so good. He feels like he’s about to pass out. “Daddy- yes! So close. So so close.” He tears a cry from your throat as you reach your high, eyes shutting tightly and he moans out, jumping back as your pussy milks his cock of everything he has to give you. Flinching as you rock your hips into him once for good measure. You rest your head on his chest, and he runs a soothing hand over your back. The both of you still breathing so hard.
He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Hey, look at me.” He mumbles. You lift your head, eyes drowsy. “Do you mean it?” He asks. “What?” You ask. “Do you love me?”
You blush, looking down. “John.. I’ve been in love with you. For years.” You mumble. “You’re sure it’s no crush?” He asks. “No, it’s no crush. I’m in love with you, John. Have been.” You mumble. He pushes your hair behind your ear. “I love you too. And I can take care of you baby. You can come live with me, I’ll make sure you have everything you need.” He breathes. You smile. “John, I can’t leach off of you like that. It’s no fair.” He rolls his eyes, lifting his hips to adjust himself, earning a gasp from you. “Leach? No. I want to take care of you baby. You’re a princess, you deserve nice things. You deserve to be treated with respect. Let me take care of you. Help you get through school.” He smiles. You blush, kissing him again. “I’ll help you get your car back, we can start moving your things this weekend. I want you. Forever. And I’ll never ever let anyone come between you and I. Not ever. I’ll never treat you the way everyone else does.” He holds your head against his. “Promise?” You raise your pinky up and he takes it with a smile. “I promise. Now Cmon.” You smile. “Okay, Daddy.” You smirk. He swats your ass playfully making you jump into him. “Ah!” You giggle, sliding off of him. He groans out as you do. You slide your shorts back on, climbing off of him and back into his passenger seat.
How you went from a shitty family barbecue to this? You’ll never understand.
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shanastoryteller · 2 months
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Happy Pride ! PJO or Time Travel drarry if you please ? Thank you !!
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5
Poseidon hadn’t known what to expect, when he’d found Sally near hysterical and their son’s empty room, when he’d gone to the armory and found a sword missing from the armory with comical IOU scratched in it’s place. He had thought Sally’s mortal mind simply did not have an appreciation for scale, that a teenage demigod was far enough from a seven year old one as to appear closer to a god than a mortal.
He'd underestimated Sally. Not the first time. Hopefully the last.
Percy, nearly fully grown, tips his head back and meets his gaze evenly. He understands why Sally mistook them at first glance.
He doesn’t know if he’s ever had a demigod child take after him quite this starkly before.
“Your mother is beside herself.”
Percy winces, pulling a knee to his chest. “Yeah. The Mist is taking care of the mortal stuff, right? No one’s blaming her for anything.”
Poseidon’s lips thin. “No. Your lack of presence is simply being – ignored.”
Demigod children die young all the time. It wouldn’t do for mortal law enforcement to look into it to closely.
“That’s good,” Percy says. “I should call her. I just don’t know what to say.”
“Why did you call me?” he asks, instead of any of the other questions he’s burning to know the answers to. Just meeting him has been enough to answer some of them.
Persephone’s influence lingers around him so powerfully that if he didn’t know better, he’d be questioning if Percy was his son rather than hers.
He resists the urge to ask after the child version of his son. Sally has already said that Percy doesn’t know, and besides, the difference is not as jarring for him as it was for Sally. He has very little to compare him to.
Percy shrugs. It’s insolent and leaves Poseidon wondering what type of relationship they have in the future that Percy is both this easy in his presence and that Poseidon allowed his son to do something this monumentally stupid in the first place.
Then again, with Persephone’s hand in this, it’s likely he had very little say in it.
“You and Mom are the only ones who know who I am,” he says. Percy couldn’t have known that he’d spoken to his mother before calling him, but he supposes that’s irrelevant. He knows his blood. Barring that, he knows his own eyes. “I guess I just – will you look out for them? If something happens to me?”
Poseidon looks over at the cliff’s edge, at the three sleeping children huddled around a dying flame. Athena, his enemy. Hermes, who he’s never called a friend. Zeus, who’s child shouldn’t even exist, although he acknowledges the irony there. “Is she the child of prophecy, then? Is that what all this is about?”
“She’s a child,” Percy says, voice suddenly hard. “They all are. Isn’t that enough?”
Ah. There’s Sally in him.
“Are you not also a child?” he asks gently.
He snorts. “No. Technically, barely, but not really. This isn’t about me.”
Poseidon thinks it is. He doesn’t see how Percy can be this impossible and this powerful and have this not be about him.
He thinks he knows exactly why Percy has traveled to the past. He doubts it was Persephone’s intention, because she knows better than to believe this is a plan that could work, but maybe it doesn’t have to. She’s clever enough to account for Percy’s choices.
Instead of saying any of that, he rests his hand on Percy’s shoulder. He’s gratified when he leans into it. He must not have been too terrible a father. “You are my child.”
“Dad,” he sighs.
Poseidon squeezes before letting go. “Alright. If something happens to you, I’ll look out for your strays.”
“They’re my friends,” he corrects, but Poseidon is already leaving.
Athena’s child is stirring. It would be just like her get to see something she shouldn’t and wreck his son’s plans, foolish as they may be.
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