#when everything hits you like a fucking tsunami

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

As per usual, it’s DP crossover with (probably) DC, although you could probably adjust it for other fandoms

ANYWAYS

A little kid and his mother are trick or treating in another city, perhaps at some kind of event rather than knocking on doors, and the kid is dressed as Phantom. It’s very adorable, with his little ghost-shaped bucket and clearly homemade and already stained costume—listen, white only works if you can just fly over street grime or phase it out of your clothes—and his slightly I’ll fitting wig. The kid is SO happy to be out and about dressed as his favorite, and maybe even showed it off to Phantom back in Amity Park before his family left.

The hero, insert whoever you wish here, is probably in civvies and just enjoying the event. The kid, meanwhile, is so glad when people ask who he is so he can explain, and so- the hero gets to hear ALL ABOUT the local town hero who is probably pretty small time despite the kid’s clearly exaggerated stories. The hero certainly never heard of him, but the kid’s mom confirms that Phantom really was the town hero, despite some mixed reviews of the poor guy.

“Did you manage to show him your costume?” the hero asks.

“Yeah! We went down to the cemetery to leave flowers and I got to show him my costume.”

Wait. Cemetery? Maybe it was part of theme, because Phantom had to be named that for a reason, but… it sounded like…

The kid ignores the suddenly VERY still hero and instead turns to his mom. “Momma, do you think we should bring him candy? He doesn’t get to trick or treat like we do, and I can work super hard to get him a bunch!”

The kid’s mom just smiles. “We could, but maybe we should bring him something homemade. I bet he’d like something more filling, teen boys like him have a hollow leg.”

The kid wrinkles his nose. “Like Vernie with the pizza bagels?”

“Like your cousin, yes. We can make some cinnamon rolls and take them to his memorial, maybe bring some of the apples from your grandpa’s garden…”

The hero is pretty much forgotten as the two-part family wanders off, not quite intentionally forgetting the hero is there so much as the hero somewhat accidentally ended the conversation when they just froze and didn’t ask anything further.

Not that the hero didn’t want to. But they’d learn something very serious.

One—there was a small town hero they’d never heard of. Two—that hero was apparently a teen. Third—most pressingly, the teen hero was both beloved enough to have kids dressing up as him and dead enough to have a grave.

This… might require some phone calls.

[ang3l0fthursday]

“Take care of me?”

sub!matt sturniolo x Fem!reader

part 2

warnings: smut | no actual p in v | fem!receiving oral | dry humping?| face riding| sub matt x soft dom reader | not edited !!!

matt is blue

reader is pink

word count: 1k

author notes: please let me know if i missed anything + i’m new to this! i welcome any feedback as long as you’re not mean about it!

i open my eyes, the sunset gleaming just right through matt’s bedroom window. i stretch my arms out, accidentally bumping my knuckles on the bed frame, right after i hear my hands hit the bed frame i here shuffling outside the door before it opens, revealing my boyfriend matt, he was wearing sweatpants, a black t shirt and his hair was tousled from filming whatever it was him and his brothers had gone and recorded.

“hi ma, did i wake you?”

“no baby you didn’t just- just coincidental timing i guess” i say while letting out a yawn.

matt turns towards his desk, throwing off his shirt. As he does so i admire the way his arms and shoulders move

god he looks so good.

“what’d you do while i was gone mama?”

matt walks towards the bed, pressing his knee down onto the mattress and making his way over to me, laying his cheek down on my stomach, his hand going to trace shapes on my hip.

“not a lot. i fell asleep about thirty minutes after you guys left”

my hands card through his soft brown hair

before speaking again. “come here baby”

matt made his way up to me, looking down slightly from the angle he layed at. my hands immediately grabbed his face, bringing his face down too me. his lips met mine.his beautifully soft lips.

matt moaned into the kiss, i felt him harden against my thigh.

i pushed him up by his shoulders.

“matty do you think- uhm. that you can just take care of me tonight ?”

he smiled, “ofcourse.”

he pecked me one last time before slowly undressing me, starting with my sweatpants, slowly moving them down my legs while looking up at me. Next he went for my shirt.

i heard his breath hitch when he saw i wasn’t wearing a bra

“god you’re so pretty”

i giggled before he removed my panties and flipped us over.

“matt?”

“i wanna try something new tonight is that okay?”

“okay” i smile at him

“tell me to stop and i will okay?” he pecked my lips before laying down

i gave him a confused expression, then he started moving me up to hover above his face.

oh.

he looked up at me to look for anything sign of a no

i simply smiled, as did he when he saw my response to his worries

his hands wrapped around my thighs, bringing me just above his mouth, i felt his hot breath against my core

holy fuck.

his toungue managed its way to my clit. swirling in shapes i couldn’t identify

“fuck- matt oh my god”

he hummed in response, the vibrations traveling straight through me.

i moaned, moving to rest forward on the bed frame

i tried so hard to conceal my moans so neither chris or nick would hear but it was so hard with the way matts toungue traveled through my folds.

all of the sudden i was hit with a new sensation, matt’s toungue slipped inside of me at the same time his fingers fumbled with my clit.

“fuck! matt- oh my god! fuck that feels so good- d-don’t stop!”

he hummed again, his vacant hand moved behind me

i slightly peeked back to see he was massaging the tent in his pants

“fuck matty you can’t even focus on just me can you?”

he removed himself slightly, his fingers still making circles on my clit, to say “i’m sorry mama i can’t help it sometimes. you’re just so beautiful”

as he reattached himself i felt everything grow tighter. his toungue moved faster inside and on my clit. everything started to feel like it was coming together inside of me. the knot in my lower tummy slowly coming undone

“holy shit matt- i’m gonna- fuck!”

before i could finish my sentence my orgasm crashed over me like a tsunami.

my hips started rocking back and forth, riding myself through my high.

as i felt my orgasm slowing down, i also felt matt start to slow down

“one more baby, one more can you do that for me?”

“of course mama” he beamed that beautiful smile of his up at me before licking a stripe through my folds,my jaw going slack and my eyebrows knitting together

“holy shit matt!”

the though of nick or chris’s hearing me had completely slipped my mind at the moment. it only felt like me and matt existed.

i already felt my second orgasm approaching when all of the sudden matt grunted before flipped us over, my ass landing on the pile of pillows i had earlier napped on and my back pressing against the bed frame

“holy shit!” my left hand carding through his soft hair, gripping only slightly. i don’t wanna hurt my boy of course.

my right hand made its way behind me to grip the bed frame.

i noticed matt’s hips starting to thrust down onto the mattress, faster and faster

at the sight of that the cord in my stomach suddenly snapped, my hips thrusting back and forth to once again. matt helped my ride out my orgasm flicking my clit with his tongue

he pulled his mouth off of me to let out a loud moan, his hips moving up and down on the bed, he gripped at my hips, i pulled him up to rest his head on my chest.

“fuck- fuck fuck ! oh my god!! can i cum mama please?” he looked up at me through his lashes.

how could i ever say no to that?

“ofcourse my sweet boy.”

his face was pressing into my chest, his jaw going slack and his hips stuttered as he wimpered my name.

“fuck! please oh my god!” he panted before slipping his arms under me and he held me tight while working himself through his orgasm

i expected him to stop but he kept going.

“baby don’t overstimulate yourself”

“mmm- fuck!” he thrusted one last time and stopped. he panted against my breasts

“fuck i better go get cleaned up.” he spoke after calming down

“on second thought matty how about i take care of you too.”

[apocalypseornaw]

Things Happen

Dean Winchester x Reader

When you and Dean get hit with a powder on a hunt you're not sure what's gonna happen until you get stuck in an elevator

It's smut yall

It all happened so fast. One minute you, Sam and Dean were chasing a witch through an old warehouse the next she'd turned, throwing an orange, fruity scented powder all over you and Dean just as Sam got the kill shot.

Your eyes met Dean's as both of you were struck with the realization something was wrong. You could hear your own heartbeat, every inch of your body felt like it was on fire and you were acutely aware of the green eyed hunter clenching his jaw tightly against his own pain to ask if you were ok.

“What the hell is this Sam?” You asked, turning to look at the younger Winchester who'd smartly stood a few feet away from the two of you. “I have no idea” the fire that had been contained on your skin chose that moment to rip through your stomach, nearly making you double over. Dean rushed to your side but the moment his hand touched your back it only made the fire worsen, a groan escaping his lips as well.

“You two go back to the hotel. I'll call Rowena in and we'll figure it out” you glanced over at Dean who nodded “Yeah, ok Sammy. Just watch your back until red gets here”

Every bump the impala hit shot straight through you. Every nerve ending was on fire and the heat between your thighs was getting worse with every passing moment. It took everything you had to concentrate on anything besides the movements of Dean's fingers on the steering wheel. The thought of those fingers on you, his hands splayed across your body, those damn lips of his tasting your skin. What the hell was going on with you?

You'd always been attracted to Dean, you had eyes. He was a gorgeous man, sweet, caring and no matter how he saw himself a truly good person at his core. You had feelings for him beyond friendship but had never once considered acting on them yet now the only thought you had was what would he feel like inside of you?

—-----------------

Dean was trying to concentrate on the road, clenching every muscle in his jaw hard enough there was a chance he'd cracked a tooth. The fruity scent of that powder still clung to the air but under it he could smell you. The shampoo you preferred, the scented lotion you loved. Every damn bump he hit a low moan would slip from you and his cock would twitch at the sound.

You were a beautiful woman, an amazing hunter and one of the most important people to him. He'd always wanted you, wanted more but wouldn't risk it yet now all he could imagine was having you underneath him.

You followed Dean into the hotel about the time a loud crack of thunder went through the sky and what seemed like hell itself unleashed. “Fucking tsunami” Dean muttered, heading for the elevator.

You stepped in behind him, shaking slightly. Your legs felt like they were made of jello at that point. Your heart rate was higher than it normally was on hunts and you were certain the slick from your core was dripping down your legs at that point. You fell back against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore Dean's breathing.

You closed your eyes when the elevator began to move but it only went six floors then screeched to a halt. Your eyes flew open “Dean?” He shrugged “I'm trying sweetheart, I'm trying” he was hitting the emergency call button repeatedly.

You slid down to the floor, sitting with your knees drawn up to your chest in hopes to soothe the ache throbbing through you. You vaguely heard Dean curse something about a rolling blackout but couldn't care less. The fire, the heat, everything was starting to hurt. You had to get a release “Dean?”

You knew you sounded wrecked but you didn't care you needed it, you needed him. He knelt in front of you and one look in his eyes told you he was barely hanging on himself “I want you” you whispered and he groaned “Sweetheart, baby please don't say that”

You looked up at him and he swallowed hard “I'm barely hanging on here” you leaned forward “Then let go” the moment his lips crashed into yours the heat roared back to life.

Everything in you was screaming that this was Dean, your best friend, your best friend who had never shown interest in you but it didn't matter because if you didn't do something for relief you'd die here in this elevator.

—-----------------

Dean grabbed your ankle and gave a tug, pulling you down onto your back where he could move to be between your legs. Hovering over you he took a few deep breath “Sweetheart” you shook your head “Shut up” 

—-----------

When you pulled him back into another kiss, hooking your legs around his waist Dean felt what resolve he had crumple. Whatever was happening it demanded you. It craved you and he was powerless to fight it.  His hands went to the hem of your shirt and you broke the kiss long enough to snatch it off and throw it. His lips went from yours, down your neck then he started to kiss down your chest “I need more Dean, fuck it hurts and I need more”

He knew what you meant. He was hurting. His cock was harder than it'd ever been and the fire, fuck the fire nipping through his body. He had to help you first, had to get you somewhat level headed. He nodded then lowered his lips to your stomach.

He used one hand to unsnap your jeans and then slipped it inside, he moaned into your skin at the feeling of the warm moisture he found seeping from your pussy. You were soaked and responsive to the point that a barely there flicker of his fingers made your back arch off the floor. “Please”

He freed your body of your boots and jeans faster than he'd ever undressed himself even. He took a moment to sit back on his heels and look at you. A brief moment of clarity telling him to stop this, he could handle the pain but what if you regretted him when this was over? “Dean it hurts please help me” you begged and that was all it took. He licked into you in one fluid motion and your fingers tangled in his hair “Yes, fuck Dean”

—------------

Dean began to work you towards an orgasm, flicking his tongue against your clit while he added a finger, curling it up to hit that spot inside of you. The pleasure began to push back against the pain and you found yourself unashamed as you ground your hips down against Dean's face. Your moans urged him on and when he shifted just slightly that blinding heat gave way to pleasure. He worked you through the orgasm and you could feel the pain roll back a bit.

When you became too sensitive you weakly shoved at his head. He pulled away and smiled up at you “Feeling better?” You nodded “Wanna take those jeans off?” His smile slipped into a grin “Yes ma'am”

—--------------

Dean slipped his jeans, shirt and boots off before tucking his shirt under your head as a makeshift pillow. Even if this was something pushing you two to do this he was going to make you as comfortable as possible. His hand shook slightly and he wasn't sure of the cause of it but you underneath him, all spread out and begging made that heat roar to life. 

He held your eyes as he slipped into you, both of you groaning at the feeling. Once he was fully inside of you he stilled, his muscles shaking with the urge to take you hard and fast. He could fight this enough to be gentle, to make it amazing for you. It was the only hope he had for you to not hate him when you were both clear headed.

Your eyes focused on him and you smiled “Fuck me Dean, please” he caught your lips in a hungry kiss “Oh sweetheart you're gonna be the death of me” 

—----------------

Dean buried his face in your neck as his thrusts got harder and deeper. You were so close to that edge you just needed a little more. Without you having to say anything Dean slipped a hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your back arched, pressing your breasts up into his chest as you came with a loud moan of his name. 

Once your vision cleared a bit you could feel Dean holding back. He needed to come, he needed that release from the heat, the pain. “Come for me Dean. Please” you begged, tightening your grip on his shoulders and spreading your legs further to give him deeper access.

You could feel his thrusts get harder and knew he was close. He pulled his face up to catch his lips in a kiss. You poured everything you'd always felt into the kiss, trying to tell him you'd wanted this for years that it wasn't just magical shit forcing the two of you to do this. You wanted Dean, you wanted to feel him come inside of you, you wanted to be his.

He groaned into your mouth as he slammed into you one final time and you felt him come filling you up.

—---------

You lay there for a few moments, Dean's now softening cock still inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. Both of your heads were cleared now, the effects having worn off. 

“Dean I..” your words were cut off by Dean's phone ringing. He pulled out of you gently before retrieving his phone. You could only hear his end which consisted of “Yeah we figured that out….just what it sounds like Sam…..what?...That's not..yeah ok…. I know….I know”

He hung up then looked at you where you were now slowly slipping back into your clothes. He did the same but when you started to tie your boots he knelt down and tied them for you. Neither of you had spoken the last few minutes.

When he stood up he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you “Sweetheart” yet again the two of you were interrupted by the elevator choosing that moment to start working again.

You stayed in Dean's arms until you reached the tenth floor. You stepped off first and he watched you carefully. What was going through his head? What was going through yours? You'd figured out it was sex pollen. A few hunters had run across different variants but the cure was always to fuck it out your system. It was never meant to kill but would if you didn't give in.

You stepped off the elevator first and Dean walked off behind you. You headed for the conjoined rooms you, him and Sam had gotten. You could feel the heat from him at your back but this time it was a very human feeling.

—----------

You unlocked the door to your room and was about to step inside when Dean's hand grabbed your arm. You looked at him and he took a deep breath “That was..” “Sex pollen, I know. I know that's why that happened” 

He shook his head “No, sweetheart you don't. The pollen may have caused it but it wasn't just the pollen”

“What are you saying Dean?” You asked pulling your arm away from him to cross it over your other arm. “I'm saying I tried to hold off as long as I could because of how much I care about you, how long I've wanted to do that. I just, I hope you don't hate me now”

You shook your head “I couldn't hate you for us saving both our lives. I couldn't hate you for anything, I care about you way too much”  he half smiled “Care about me like you care about Sam or?” You cut him off by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

You stepped back and shrugged “Care about you like if you want to try this between us for real I wouldn't be opposed to it” a grin slipped onto his face “I want you for a lot longer than a day or two” you returned his grin “Good cause it's gonna take a long time for me to get sick of you” 

Before you could say anything else Dean stepped closer and picked you up, his hands bracing under your thighs. You gasped lightly and he grinned “Sometimes witches aren't too bad I guess, if they got me you”  you laughed "Oh shut up and take me inside"

[fuzybby]

Home.

Gale Dekarios x f!reader

Synopsis: You and Gale show eachother how much you love eachother through some good ol' love making

CW: breeding, his undying love for you, overstimulation? but not really. This is pretty vanilla because Gale loves you

788 words! Enjoy

You felt like you were floating. Pure ecstasy courses through your veins as your nails run down Gales chest. Admiring his hairy body as you straddled his hips, having stopped your bouncing on his dick to calm your aching legs.

Gale kept his eyes on you, always wavering to a different part of your body. Your face in pleasure, your breasts that bounced with every raise and drop of your hips, he watched his hands as he gripped your waist. Gale was enthralled by you, the ring on his left ring finger specified so, taking a look on the matching ring you wore on your left hand, which was now splayed against his pecs.

“Stopping already?” Gale teased, letting go of your hips to place his hands behind his head. Quickly raising his hips slightly to press more of him into you. His pubic bone rubbed against your clit deliciously.

“Shut up.” The words came out of you in a breathy tone, still trying to catch your breath. Moving to raise your hips up again, only leaving the tip of your lover's cock inside of you. Your legs shook before you dropped down, your ass rippled as it hit his body once again.

Everything was wet, sticky. Sweat dropped down both of your bodies, the slick from your legs dripped onto his cock, even managing to run down his balls and to the bed below him.

“As much as I love making your legs shake, you're going to hurt yourself.” Gale chuckled as he placed his hands back onto your thighs, holding you to stay down in his lap.

Air couldn't seem to get any faster into your lungs, deep breathes didn't seem to take. “Just wanna be good for you.” You whined to Gale, who looked up at you with his beautiful brown puppy eyes.

“You're being so good.” he smiled, moving his upper body to sit up, his chest coming to touch yours. “You're such a good girl for me.”

You allowed him to slowly pull you off his dick, laying you down on your back onto the bed as he climbed on top of you. The silk sheets felt smooth against your skin. Closing your eyes, focusing on how cool the sheets felt for one second before being filled again by your husband.

He was always so big, so full it made you want to keep him inside you forever. No matter how close you two became, you always wanted to be closer. Molding into one for all eternity.

“Focus on me.” You hear him say, holding eye contact with you as he slowly moves in and out of your wet cunt. Sucking him in so eagerly.

You call his name, moving your hands to hold his face, resting his forehead against your own. “A request..” You quietly ask.

His voice wavers as he says “hm?”, groaning slightly from how warm and tightly you hugged his cock.

“Fill me?” wrapping your arms around his waist quickly, feeling his lower back tense and relax every time he thrusts. His pace picks up slightly at your words.

“Yeah?” Gale smirks, moving one of his hands down to rub circles against your clit. His dexterous fingers always felt so good against your cunt. “Want me to fuck a baby into you?”

His words were always so filthy during these moments, and you nod swiftly, your forehead bumping slightly against his as you do, which causes a small thing of giggles to erupt from you both.

His fingers and thrusts don't relent even as you share a laugh, causing your giggles to quickly erupt into moans. Your body was on fire, his touch sending waves of flames up your body and through your system. You arch your back off the bed, your breasts pushing up into his own pecs as your orgasm comes quickly, rushing over you like a tsunami.

You convulse around Gales dick, and your moans of his name make him erupt into his own orgasm. He whimpers as he continues to fuck your pretty cunt as he spills his seed into you, only stopping when both of your legs are quivering.

You were so full, so full of him and his seed, you could cum again at the thought of him spilling inside of you. You run your hands through his hair as Gale's cock slowly softens inside of you, wanting to stay inside your warmth for the rest of time.

“I love you.” He says, his lips are close to yours. His breath is hot against your face.

“I love you too.” You smile, pressing your lips against his to seal your love. He tasted like home. And you wouldn't want it any other way.

[actualbuckybames]

Another scene from that fic I haven't posted. Excerpt of this scene under the cut

---

Bucky falls the instant he steps inside the facility. Vertigo takes hold and then he’s falling, falling away from himself and away from the howling storm trying to tear him apart. He falls and the Soldier weathers the storm, the memories hitting him like hail. It’s just pain. Pain and noise. He’s done more under worse conditions.

He takes the pain and burns it like fuel as he plunges into the depths, puts the noise where it can’t disrupt his focus. The mission is to confirm this facility’s purpose and purge it. No prisoners. As always, no survivors.

A quarter of them try to fight. They die.

A quarter of them try to run. They die.

The rest beg for their lives. They die.

The last makes a stand in the bare concrete room housing the cryo unit. He manages to separate the Soldier from his guns with a kind of stun baton that leaves the metal arm jolting and uncooperative, but on his next lunge, the Soldier grabs the baton halfway down the shaft with his right hand and crushes it.

His left arm resets and locks in for a punch that sends the man crashing into the cryo pod. Though blood streams from his nose, he fumbles at his waist and unsheathes a knife. The Soldier almost smiles. When the Soldier draws one of the tantos from his back, the man pales. He’s fast enough to dodge when the Soldier whips it at his head and just barely quick enough to catch the second tanto on his own blade when the Soldier closes the gap.

Caught up in the flurry of blows, the Soldier lets the grin twist his lips under his mask. This man is good. Very, very good. As good as anyone can get with unmodified flesh and bone.

But he is unmodified. Sweat gleams on his face and he pants with each lunge, parry, and dodge. The Soldier feels no exhaustion and gives no quarter, chasing him around the small space and ensuring he never has any delusions of reaching the door.

For a minute, the man thinks he’s holding his own. The Soldier lets him think that. It feels good to stretch these muscles, to wield a knife in a way he hasn’t since fighting Captain America—

Fighting Steve—

“Перешеек,” the man gasps, and the Soldier freezes. That is what that word means: silence and stillness. The land between shifting waters, immovable and eternal. His muscles lock. The arm’s plates lock. Everything locks and his thoughts break against his body in waves.

The man doubles over with his hands on his knees and heaves for breath. Drops of sweat splatter on the floor, joining the blood he’s shed from the dozen small cuts the Soldier has inflicted on him over the course of their fight.

They’re fighting. Right. But the man said перешеек—he’s a handler. The Soldier obeys the handler.

“Fuck,” the man straightens and glares at the Soldier, “you are fucking terrifying.”

The Soldier cannot respond, but his muscles are starting to itch with a need to move. There is a headache crawling out from the base of his skull with a sound like a scream.

“You killed all of them, didn’t you?” He peers past the Soldier, towards the door. “I don’t understand why they keep saying to bring you back alive. You’re not worth this.”

He knows: the knife in his hand belongs in the man’s eye, in his brain. But перешеек holds him fast. Can’t disobey the handler. Can’t move. Can’t do anything other than watch as the handler steps close and lines up his own knife.

“Fuck that,” the man says, face contorting in anger. “Fuck you.”

He drives the knife into the Soldier’s chest.

Pain crashes through the Soldier’s mind in a tsunami that rips away the shackles of перешеек. Clarity, as it always does even without the burn of electricity, follows in its wake: this man isn’t his handler. He doesn’t have authority to override the mission. The mission is to take no prisoners and leave no survivors and he is still alive.

The Soldier’s left hand slams into the man’s chest and throws him back. Something cracks on impact; a rib, from the man’s grunt and subsequent gasp. With his right hand, the Soldier rips the knife out of his chest. The man’s next sound of pain is cut off by that knife when Soldier drives up into his brain through the fleshy underside of his jaw. A puppet with its strings cut, the man crumples and the Soldier lets him fall. Even lets him keep the knife.

For just a moment, the room is silent, no more echoes of combat bouncing off its bare gray walls. The Soldier’s breathing is the loudest sound.

He spares the next moment to examine the tear in his jacket. The wound beneath is bleeding heavily from him pulling the knife out but, upon inspection, it shows itself to be narrow and small. At the angle he struck at, the blade must have hit bone, to be stopped from going any deeper. Or the man underestimated the Soldier’s muscle density and the force required to rip through it.

The wound requires cleaning, but he halts his steps toward the exit and the medical supplies beyond when a quiet beep reaches his ears. It’s a sound he knows, a sound deeper than anything a knife can reach. He turns and faces the cryo pod. The beep comes again. Underneath it is the soft hiss of air through narrow tubes. His left hand twitches and he crosses the room in three long strides.

There’s a man in the cryo pod. That doesn’t make sense; this is the Soldier’s pod, even if he has no intention of using it ever again.

He wipes at the fog on the small window and frowns at the pale, gaunt face framed with ice crystals that rests on the other side. That frown deepens when the face and its tousled blond hair tugs at frosted strings of memory in his mind. As the monitor beeps a soft and infrequent report on the man’s vitals, recognition gives way to vertigo and the Soldier—no, no, James, Bucky, my name is Bucky—nearly collapses against the pod. Frigid metal bites into what little exposed skin makes contact but he doesn’t feel it because his eyes are fixed on Steve. Steve, who’s stuck in the pod. Steve, who’s stripped of his serum and small and week and frozen. Steve, whose vitals are sounding off ever slower while Bucky’s own heartbeat thunders in his ears.

GET HIM OUT. The order screams through his thoughts and tears up everything else on its way. He’s slamming his fist on the emergency release before he even thinks to move. But the pod doesn’t open. Doesn’t open when he hits the release again. Doesn’t open when he tries the actual command sequence for defrosting. Doesn’t open when he slams his fist into it with a shout. And still Steve's vitals are slowing.

Static bites at his focus and black creeps in at the edges of his vision. All he can see is the cryo chamber. Steve. Steve. That cold—he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. It never leaves. It’s enough to kill Stevie. More than enough.

God, he might already be dead. When was the last beep?

“Stay with me,” he begs the silent figure while he claws at every seam in the pod, hunting for purchase. “Don’t you dare quit, you’re too stubborn to stop now, you hear me? Too stubborn by half. Stay with me, don’t leave.”

He hasn’t heard a beep in—

In—

His metal hand smashes into the side of the pod, denting the metal enough to expose a lip he can fasten his fingers around. He rips the panel away with a roar but it’s just an exterior support. There are so many more. So many.

He’s yelling at Steve, now, so Steve can hear him over the sound of Bucky tearing apart the pod. Screaming for him to stay, to wake up, to stay god please stay, because the monitor isn’t beeping anymore and—

The last hinge gives way with a shriek and the pod door goes crashing across the room. Searingly cold air blasts over him, forcing his eyes into a squint, but he reaches in blindly with his left hand and finds—

Nothing. The pod is empty. Blinking away tears, he stares at the unoccupied restraints in mute confusion, the adrenaline pumping through his veins only making that confusion spiral faster as frigid mist spreads across the floor. A blink and that mist is gone. The cold is gone.

A glance to the right: no vitals monitor. A glance back at the pod: no Steve.

There’s blood roaring in his ears, the ground is swaying under his feet, he can’t get enough air, and he's falling.

---

He comes to after a few seconds, finding himself sprawled on his right side. Another few seconds pass before he pieces together what happened and why his right shoulder and head ache. The wound in his chest is still bleeding. It’s the easiest thing to focus on with his mind fogged by confusion and pain.

Thick drops of blood pool around the fingers of his hand when he brings it near and then fall to the floor. He watches them, transfixed. And then notes how bright red his blood is. A good sign.

With a bit of effort, he gets his left hand braced against the floor in front of him and, fingers scraping on the concrete, slowly levers himself up while putting as little strain on his core as he can. He uses the cryo pod for support as he gets to his feet, leaving a bloody handprint on the metal. The front of his jacket is shiny with blood and the room spins a bit when he stands straight, but it’s manageable once he leans against the wall and takes a few measured breaths. He looks to his right; the cryo pod is empty.

Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?

[god-complex-12]

Saudade

— Paring; Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley x male reader. Fandom; Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Saudade: (n.) a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia; longing to be near something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; “the love that remains”.

Quote; “Fuck you, Simon.”

Disclaimer; middle of a war, angst, sad, guns, violence, descriptions of war, childhood friends, childhood trauma, kind of PTSD, blood, fighting, fear, stabbing, no use of Y/N, conflict, arguing.

Word Count: 0.9k.

Masterlist

A/N: I read the very first lines of this @charliemwrites fic and this came to my mind. I haven’t read the rest yet, but inspo from them. Also, please send in requests. I’m desperate for ideas.

The sound of gunfire wasn’t foreign. Not to Simon. However, even with ear coverage, the headache couldn’t be stopped. The adrenaline of the bloodshed kept his mind off the pain. It was moments like these where his mind was empty and only set on surviving and carrying out the mission.

Simon’s back hit the wall as he took a brief breather before he busted into the room, firing at the first man he saw in a Shadow uniform. His gun was aimed at the wrong person at the wrong time because he was quickly met with a hit, sending him to the ground with a groan of pain. He tried to shoot whoever the perpetrator was, but the enemy pried the rifle from his hands and pinned him to the ground, holding their own gun to his head. All Simon could see were the soldier’s eyes, but even those let off more emotion than would be ideal in a situation like this. Simon struggled, but his struggle did him no good against the body weight of the enemy atop him.

The soldier didn’t shoot, though. That’s why Simon was trying to act fast, as he managed to get his hand out from under the enemy, and he grabbed the knife on his leg and lodged it into the man’s thigh. Instinctively, the stranger yelled out and slammed the handgun down against the lieutenant's head. The mask cracked and Simon cringed in pain.

“You fuckin’ piece of shit!” The soldier yelled, and he angrily ripped the mask from the other man’s face. He tore everything off Simon's face, destroying his comm and headset, ripping the balaclava, and using the broken mask to stab him in the shoulder. Simon fought him, tossing his head around to stop him and even grabbing him by the face to make him let go. The soldier pointed the gun back at Simon’s bare forehead. He held Simon’s wrist tightly, stabbing the other piece of his mask into his palm, making Simon let go.

As the enemy’s rage calmed and his breathing steadied, his hand wavered. His eyes widened ever so slightly before sharpening again. “What are you doing here?” His tone was harsh, as if he were talking to a private. Simon took it as a demand in order to win rather than the man’s curiosity.

“You’re a dumb fuck if you think you can get information out of me in the middle of a warzone,” Simon spat out through gritted teeth.

The soldier paused before they lowered their balaclava. Simon’s eyes widened in fear as all the unwanted memories rushed back to him like a tsunami. His breath became labored. Everything he wanted to forget was on top of him, pointing a pistol at his head. He started thrashing more. “Get off of me! Get the hell off of me, you dickhead!” He shouted angrily.

“Stop it,” he says calmly. However, all gentleness was gone when Simon continued to fight. “I said stop!” He punched Simon with his full strength. He grabbed Simon’s face harshly, making him look at him. “You can run. Forget everything bad. But I’ll be damned if you try to forget me, you cowardly bitch. I fought for you. I’m the only reason you lived through your pathetic childhood and you abandoned me. You left me with everything I fought with you through. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you! I could’ve had a happy childhood, but I was too busy fending for your bitch ass.” All that pent-up aggression was being spewed through a tight jaw and angry eyes.

Simon was desperate to get away. He looked like a little boy again, trying to get away from whatever his father brought home. “I had to! You don’t get it!” Another hit from the gun shut Simon up. The lieutenant knew exactly what he had done was wrong, and he knew that the man in front of him had every right to be angry. Even though Simon was the reason his youth was corrupted, they never split. He was like a brother to him. One who helped him through all, yet Simon left him with everything the other protected him from.

The soldier got back to his feet and pulled his mask back up. He turned around and was ready to walk away from his opponent, unable to pull the trigger, even though he was overwhelmed with a burning hatred for Simon. Angry at him for putting him through his fucked-up family even though they weren’t related. He still had the urge to protect him.

“Fuck you, Simon. I hope it all comes back to you at night. I hope it keeps you up.” He grumbled as he limped out of the room, leaving Simon there on the floor.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 28

Summary: Paul's gone. While the search for him is ongoing, Y/N is back home, awaiting his return.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing, talking about death, mental health issues and suicide

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

————————————

Tucking her legs under her, Y/N stares out the window. It’s been unusually cold lately, the skies turning darker with each passing day. The clouds are getting lower, spreading among the trees surrounding her home. Whenever autumn comes knocking, Y/N welcomes the rainy days and moody weather with both arms. She didn’t detest the cold as she once did, because Paul would always hold her a little bit closer. He’d often kiss her until they both struggled to keep their hands to each other and she had to beg for mercy before they were both late for work. It’s not like he’d kiss her any less in the summer, it’s just that he’s aware his warmth in already warm days is harder for Y/N’s body to handle. It’s why he’d give her space from time to time. Y/N hated that. That’s why she’d turn down the AC to freezing cold temperatures all the time just so she could enjoy Paul’s cuddles more.

She misses his cuddles now.

It’s been five days since Paul went out of the Cullen’s house and shifted into a wolf. When he’d lose his temper, Paul would be back by nightfall and Y/N never needed to worry. This felt different. Jacob didn’t tell her much at first, trying to sugarcoat what they’d discovered, but she wasn’t letting up. She could never let up when Paul was involved.

“You need to hear it from him, not me,” Jacob sighs.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Y/N frowns deeply. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I know I feel that his heart is shattered and I -”, she pauses as a sob threatens to escape her. “I never feel his emotions unless they’re at an extreme and his pain is suffocating me right now.”

“It’s a deeply personal thing I can’t imagine Paul would want you to talk to us about.”

Chuckling dryly, she points a finger at Jacob’s chest. “You have no idea what he or I would want. You weren’t here when we were building this relationship from the ground up! You weren’t here as we grew up and you sure as hell weren’t here when we learned each other’s hearts by heart! So don’t tell me what he would or wouldn’t want, because I know what he wants, and that is me! And if he is in this state because he believes he’s done something that will take me away from him, I need to know what the fuck it is so I can convince him it isn’t his fault and that–,“ belting over she lets a shuddered breath pass her lips. Clutching her chest, Y/N’s knees hit the ground with a loud sob echoing throughout the room. Jacob’s quick to wrap his arms around her, looking at Edward in distress.

“She’s overwhelmed”, Edward explains before glancing at Jasper, who seems devastated by the constant waves of pure anguish coming off of Y/N.

In the blink of an eye, Jasper is beside Y/N, his hand running up and down her back as she gasps for breath. All the pain and confusion coursing through her blood is nearly enough to make anyone insane. Even Jasper is barely holding it together as he takes some of her pain, replacing the tsunami of negative emotions with a sense of tranquility.

It doesn’t take long for Y/N’s breathing to return to normal, but her tears don’t dry. Jasper can manipulate her emotions, but he can’t trick her body into forgetting everything.

“Just tell me,” she pleads. “I need to know how to bring him back home.”

“He’s found out you’d possess a rare ability if you were to join our family,” Carlisle answers, and her eyes find him immediately. “One that the Volturi would never allow to exist. That means they’d kill you if you were to change.”

Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, she furrows her eyebrows. “Then I won’t shift and it won’t be a problem.”

“Aro will know,” Alice chimes in. “He can read every thought anyone’s ever had just by touch. He’d find out about you. Even as a human, you’d be a threat. The potential you carry is enough for him to act.”

Letting out a heavy breath, Y/N shakes her head. “How do you even know I might have this power?”

“We asked a member of our extended family to visit,” Alice replies. “We didn’t want to take risks when it came to you. A Quileute imprint.”

“And if you didn’t? If he never told you what potential I carry? If we never even mentioned the possibility of me being part of your family?”

“You’d have never gone through what Paul saw the day he imprinted on you.”

“A self-actualizing prophesy,” Y/N nods. “Is it really as bad as it seems?” Y/N asks Alice. “Paul has always seemed traumatized by it, but he’s my imprint. Is it really a horrid way to die?”

For the first time, Y/N noticed emotions in the Cullens. The Cullens' stony faces are difficult to read by humans, but Y/N can no longer ignore the emotions she notices in them. It’s on all their faces–compassion and pity most of all.

“Okay then”, Y/N forces a small smile as she uses Jacob’s shoulders to help herself stand. Jasper doesn’t hesitate, holding her up as she stumbles during her attempt.

“We need to find my fiancé,” Y/N purses her lips. “Jacob,” she sighs. “Please find him and bring him back to me.”

“I will do my best,” he promises. “But it’s not easy when we get into this headspace. It once took me an entire summer to return to my human form.”

Nodding, she swallows thickly. “Tell him I need him. Tell him I love him and I don’t care about anything other than spending the rest of my life with him. I want to get married and I want us to live every single day to the fullest.”

“I’ll gather the rest of the pack still willing to shift,” Jacob pecks her forehead. “We can cover more ground and drag him back if necessary.”

As Jacob walks toward the door, he’s stopped as her fingers coil around his pinky finger–the only part of him she could reach as he all but ran to fulfill his promise.

“Don’t let him see me breaking down. He can’t ever know.”

Ever since, Y/N waited for her soulmate to return to her. Embry, Quill, and Seth joined Jacob in their search the very first night. Sam and his eldest son waited for Leah and her husband, Owen, to come from Port Angeles before joining the very next day.

Emily would visit with her youngest every morning. Y/N’d have her dad over for lunch, but it didn’t help distract her as much. The greatest thing Sam has ever done for her was give her and Paul his blessing to clue her father in. She didn’t tell him she was marked for certain death. It would kill him to know, but he knows enough to be aware her life is in danger. She told him Paul’s off with the pack trying to hunt down a rogue cold one, protecting the tribe. Kim and Jared would come over every other night for dinner. Y/N imagines it’s because they feel guilty about Jared’s lack of involvement in the search for Paul. He’s not shifted in so long, the human part of him is much stronger than the wolf. Y/N supposes they didn’t want to halt his aging now when they finally seem to look the same age. She can’t take it to heart. Perhaps she’d hate if Paul shifted after a decade too.

Claire and her wife visited on the second day. She’s never been too close to Claire as she and Andrea live far, about a five-hour drive in one direction. They mostly see each other for holidays, but Y/N appreciated her visiting very much. Catching up with them put her mind at ease for a few hours, long enough to maintain some semblance of sanity.

Renesmee showed up with Bella for a few hours on the third day, bringing loads of chocolates Edward knew Y/N liked. Apparently, he’s joined the search earlier that day with Emmett and Rosalie.

The only ones who never left her home were Daisy and Jasper. It would likely drive Embry crazy if he knew his imprint had been sitting beside a vampire this entire time, especially when that vampire was Jasper. He’s apparently less stable with his diet compared to others in his family, but Y/N likes it when he’s close by. If it weren’t for him micromanaging her emotions whenever they threatened to kill her, Y/N would have lost herself. Alice came and went, unable to handle the smell of wolves for too long. The smell of several wolves mixed together is much worse than Jacob's scent, she said.

“He’s going to come back”, Daisy hands her a cup of warm tea. It’s nothing compared to holding Paul’s hand, but if she closes her eyes for a few minutes, she can pretend he’s there, safe with her.

Daisy sits with her, feeling her loss. Embry’s never been away this long before. She can’t imagine how hard it must be for Y/N when she can’t even be sure Paul is alright when she can feel he’s in pain. At least Embry isn’t in danger and he isn’t heartbroken to the point of being stuck in his wolf form. He’ll definitely come back home. Paul might not. She doesn’t say that openly, but she carries that worry. Meeting Y/N was scary as hell, especially with how highly Embry used to talk about her. She knows they had a mutual crush on each other when they were younger, but it never seemed to work for them. Embry told her he didn’t want to mess up his friendship with Jacob, who was evidently in love with Y/N, but he also didn’t want to risk losing Y/N as a friend. It was easier to admire her from a distance.

It’s not like Daisy is insecure about her relationship with Embry now, but before she knew what imprinting was, it did cross her mind that Y/N might be competition. She only found out about imprints when Embry spilled the beans about Paul imprinting on Y/N when she first came back to town. He wasn’t aware she was close enough to hear him and the way he mocked Paul for it, but she heard it. It wasn’t hard making the connection about their own situation. Smiling, she remembers how stupid his face looked when she called him her imprint in bed that night. He nearly choked on his own saliva before she kissed him harder than ever before. She wishes he was with her to kiss him harder than that. Jared didn’t shift and leave Kim, so why did Embry? Shaking her head, she puts those thoughts away. Y/N is a close friend, possibly her closest friend, and she’s definitely Embry’s favorite person aside from herself. This is a small sacrifice for someone they both care about.

Jasper watches the two girls from the couch. He can sense the quickly shifting emotions in Daisy every day, but none of them are malicious. It’s evident she simply misses her husband. Y/N is a hurricane compared to Daisy. She’s impossible to predict and the devastation her emotions can cause is incredibly difficult to contain. He’s never truly delved much into imprint connections, perhaps because Jacob and Renesmee had a simple relationship. Renesmee didn’t pay him much attention until she ended things with her high school boyfriend. After graduation, that’s when she decided she wanted him…selfishly so. She never quite unlatched from him. Renesmee was more or less obsessed with him, jealous of Y/N’s friendship with him, but she was never in any pain regarding Jacob. As for the wolf side of the relationship, Jacob just wanted to protect her and make her happy. He didn’t necessarily love her the way Renesmee loved him, but he wouldn’t ever break her heart, even though his own wasn’t whole. Jasper always knew Jacob loved someone else and despite the imprinting tying him to his niece, Jacob never forgot the one he wanted truly. Seeing Jacob and Y/N in the same room revealed everything to him — he wanted what he could never have. And now he’s off, making sure Y/N can have some form of a happy ending as if she won’t die soon.

Never before did Jasper care much about humans, knowing they’re around only for a brief part of his immortal life. Very few did he care to befriend and, for some reason, Y/N felt like a person he wanted to be around. She didn’t make him thirsty, it’s her heart that speaks to him. So many people walk around hiding their true feelings, but she feels everything so clearly and she refuses to pretend otherwise. It’s rare to find someone like that. He has observed her mainly depressed in the time he's known her, but he wonders about the potential of being around her when she's truly happy.? He could get drunk on candid joyfulness Y/N is capable of feeling. Perhaps he’s going to be invited to the wedding when Paul returns. She’ll certainly be cheerful on that day and he has to know the other side of this despair. He can't believe that he cannot replace this pit of aching with ecstasy and serenity.

Alice finds him unreasonable for staying with Y/N inside the house she shares with Paul, but he can’t bring himself to leave yet. Not before she’s reunited with her fiancé. Leaving now is like playing with destiny. She deserves the relief he’s cautiously giving her, making sure she can feel her emotions without allowing them to cross the borders of what she can safely handle. Y/N needs him, even if others do not agree. Until Paul walks over the threshold of this house, Jasper will not leave. Y/N doesn’t demand it either. He can feel she’s grateful for his presence, for taking the edge off the very sharp knife her emotions tend to become.

So he stays, watching over the girls as the lighting tears apart the sky.

“What would happen if I were to join your family and Aro was,” Y/N pauses as she turns to look at Jasper, who seemed rather surprised she was talking about it. “Well, if he was eliminated, would it really be such a problem for me? For your family?”

Staring at Jasper, Y/N watches as his lips spread in a thin line and then into a genuine smile. She’s definitely gone mad. “You’d want to take on the Volturi?”

“I want to take on Aro,” she corrects. “If he was alone, he’d be easier to eliminate.”

“To kill, you mean,” Jasper states.

Shaking her head, she places the empty teacup down. “I understand the chances of it are minimal, but say I accept to be one of you and I get this magical power of making vampires human… Can’t I make him human?”

“Would he, like, just become a vampire again?” Daisy asks.

Jasper rubs his chin. The more time he spends around her, Y/N swears he does these little gestures for her benefit, something to take away from the ungodly beauty he possesses, to make him seem more human.

It's impossible to turn them into vampires after they have been cured. However, the rest of them would know. The entire army would be ready to dismember us to get to you.”

“Not if he disappears,” Y/N tries. “We could hold him hostage until he dies a human death.”

“That’s dark”, Daisy notes.

“It’s nothing compared to what he’s been doing for much longer than you’ve been alive,” Jasper argues. “He deserves far worse.”

“Could it work?” Y/N asks as Jasper’s phone lights up. “Alice?” The hope in her voice is so easily detectable that it makes Jasper almost frown when he sees it’s a message from Edward.

We found Paul.

“No. Edward says they found Paul.”

“Are they coming home?” Y/N jumps, running toward Jasper. “Call him, call him!”

Smiling as her hope brings alive the butterflies in his stomach, Jasper dials his brother immediately.

“Kind of hard to talk now”, Edward grunts as a loud growl sounds.

“I’m with Y/N. You’re on speaker.”

“Where is he”, Y/N grabs Jasper’s wrist, bringing her lips closer to the phone. “Is he okay?”

“Canada”, Edward sighs as the growling grows louder.

“Is that him?!” she exclaims. “Paul Lahote, you stop that right now!”

On command, the growls turn into whimpers and she can’t help the way her chin trembles with the pained sound leaving her fiancé.

“Come home,” she says softly. “I know you believe you put me in this situation, but that’s not true.” Sniffling, she pauses as if to wonder if saying it in front of everyone is unwise. It doesn’t take long for her to decide, choosing to prioritize Paul over her vulnerability. “If you and I never fell in love, I’d have been dead a long time ago. Paul, I came back home for a few months to tie up loose ends.”

Glancing at Daisy who stood by her, Y/N swallows thickly. “I was struggling with anxiety and depression. And I didn’t feel like I had anyone in this world other than my dad. I just…I was in therapy, but it didn’t really feel like it was working. The meds never really helped either. I was just so…so lonely.”

“Y/N”, Daisy rests a hand on her shoulder as a show of support.

“I was planning on taking my life and then you showed up in that forest with your stupid smile and gorgeous eyes and suddenly I had one more mystery to solve.” Smiling meekly, Y/N sighs. “Before long, I was falling in love with you and my friends returned to me and in that time, I started falling in love with life again. You saved my life, Paul Lahote, and I hate how cheesy that sounds, but you did. And whatever time I got now is still a lot longer than it would have been if we never met.”

Biting her lower lip, she closes her eyes. “You made me happier than I believed was possible. I love you and I want to marry you. I want to marry you and become your wife as we planned. Come back to me so we can enjoy this time we have left.”

“I will.”

She recognizes Paul’s voice immediately.

“I’ll be home soon. We’ll do whatever you want.” His voice is shaky, imbued with heavy emotions he’s attempting to keep under control.

Smiling, she nods. “A beach wedding would have been great, but the weather might not agree.”

“I’ll make sure it agrees,” Paul sniffles.

“Where we had our first date?”

“Sounds perfect!”

Neither spoke for a few moments. Each breath seems to hang in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts. It’s the kind of silence that carries weight, a palpable tension that both parties are acutely aware of but hesitate to break. Y/N inhales sharply as Paul breaks the silence.

“I love you too.”

“I know”, she replies quietly.

“With all my heart.”

“I believe you.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Paul promises.

Nodding, she holds her breath as tears rush to her eyes. She can’t let Paul hear her crying. He’s carrying far too much guilt already and her tears shouldn’t be part of the load. Swallowing the growing lump at the back of her throat, she replies sweetly, her tone laced with all the love she wants to give him.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

__________________

Tags:  @b-tchymoon​ @squiddaloo​ @abbiesxox​ @kellyashcroft​  @the-chaotic-cow​​ @xxxjaexxx​​ @captainrogers-19​​ @bexloxl​​ @llovergirlll​​ @adaydreamaway08​​ @sunsetevergreen​​ @volturiwolf​​ @twihard08​​ @galacticstxrdust​​ @sorrow-and-bliss​​ @ireadthensuetheauthors​​ @missxmarvelous​​ @locokoca​​ @unstablekay​​ @makhaia​​ @venusdelaroix​​ @avadakadabra93​​ @tearsforhan​​ @a-marie-a​​ @lendeluxe​​ @seagulls-corner​​ @jdbxws​​ @konigslilslut​​ @rottenstyx​​ @itsmytimetoodream​​ @dreamerwasfound​​ @convolutings​​  @thingfromlove​​ @jennyamanda8​​ @havecourage-darling​​ @luvr-exe​​ @alittlejudgemental​​ @turningtoclown​​ @emptydoorsandpaintedwindows​​ @marvelmenarebeautiful​​ @bringmethe-world​​ @alitaar​​ @sugasthreedollarkookie​​ @chloe-skywalker​​ @heyheyheyggg​​ @feral-ratatattat-king​​ @queereddie​​ @fandomrulesall-blog​​ @queenotaku27​​ @dcgoddess​​ @lilac-crowns-blog​​ @small-town-wayward-daughter​​ @yourqueentp​​ @boreddemigodd​​ @chaosgoblinreblogsthings​​ @felinegrate​​ @lunajay33​​ @gtfoana​​ @hpboysslut2707​​ @tpwk-harry-styles​​ @amberpanda99​​ @let-love-bleeds-red​​ @mo-s-blog​​​ @nj01​​ @myheadsinanotherworld​​ @problematicpastry​​ @witchybabel

A/N: No clue why Tumblr is being a bitch today, I don't even know if the tags are working because it doesn't let me do my usual thing, so if you're on the tag list, please let me know if you got a notification or not. On a side note, I've had the worst stomach bug since Friday, so forgive me for the grammar, I beg for leniency. As usual, anyone wanting to be tagged can comment on the post, just make sure your blog visibility settings are on and that your blog hasn’t been flagged (blurry pfp is usually your clue that you have been flagged) as those are most common reasons why tumblr won’t let you be tagged. Also keep in mind changing your @ might mean you lose your tag since Tumblr acts like your blog no longer exists due to the change.

Part 29

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

i love dove so much ;-; 🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞 i want more of her pls

THANK YOU!

93 for 🪞:

---

“Okay,” Buck sighs. “Well… I still don’t know if I fully get it. But it doesn’t matter. You’re home, he’s home, so… I’m happy.”

Eddie smiles. It’s tight. Nervous. Like he knows he’s gotten away with a flimsy explanation, which isn’t usually a grace Buck affords to him. Buck’s actually not entirely sure why he’s letting it drop so easily. Maybe because he’s got things on his brain he doesn’t quite want to tell Eddie, either. 

“I’m happy, too,” Eddie says. 

I realized that he’s just kind of… He’s just kind of sad… 

“Then that’s what matters,” Buck replies, relinquishing any hopes of learning more. 

ii.

Christopher takes Buck’s words to heart. From there on out, he’s always kind to Dove. Even when she is kind of objectively annoying in a way that makes Buck want to call up Maddie and apologize for having once been young in her proximity. Because, wow? Once Chris starts giving her attention, Dove sort of becomes a pest. 

She’s kind of obsessed with Chris. Talks about him all the time. Thinks he’s the coolest person on earth. Buck and Eddie are completely old news. Did you know Chris learned how to make robots at school? Did you know Chris is better at video games than you? It’s constant and, frankly, adorable. Much better than her glaring at him like he’s a crooked picture hanging on the wall, anyway. 

For his part, Chris seems to quietly enjoy the attention. It’s always been just him. He’s always been the baby. Once he gets over the fact that there can in fact be two kids around, he takes it in stride. 

“He told me he can basically show her everything he likes and make her cool,” Eddie tells Buck one shift at work. “Like she’s a puppy to raise to do fun tricks.”

“Hmm,” Buck considers this. “I guess he’s not wrong. She’s still at a pretty impressionable age.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know whether or not to be concerned,” Eddie admits. 

“I mean, as long as he’s like… Reasonable?” Buck posits. “Like, not forcing any opinions or hobbies on her? Then I guess? Whatever? I think she wants to be like him regardless.”

Eddie shrugs. “He kind of likes that about her.”

“Diaz control freak genes are strong,” Buck nods. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Wait until she learns what a clipboard is. Then she can adopt your style of control freak.”

“Hey, you jest, but that’s not a bad idea. It’s never too early to learn about effective organization and project management.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. But the gesture, Buck finds, is fond. 

iii.

They do end up taking both kids to the beach. It’s not really warm enough to enjoy the water properly, but they pack a lunch, and set out to have a good day regardless. 

Buck purchases and insists that Dove wear a lifejacket. Even when she complains that it looks silly. He doesn’t actually care. He, for one, will never take ocean safety lightly again in his life. Sure, she’s had a few swimming lessons in a pool. With no currents or waves. No undertow. The ocean is a totally different beast. One Buck is all too familiar with. 

Chris tells her as much when they pick him and Eddie up and she’s still grumbling out the life jacket. 

“It’s puffy,” she complains. “I don’t need one in swimming lessons.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Chris says. “I think it’s kind of smart to have. One time, Buck and I got hit by a really big wave called a tsunami. I wish I’d been wearing one then.”

Buck and Eddie tense in unison. Neither of them had planned on terrifying her today. 

“Really?” Dove asks. 

“Oh, yeah,” Chris nods. “It was super scary even though I’m a good swimmer. Better to be safe than sorry.”

A phrase Buck has used no less than ten times in explaining the necessity of this less-than-stylish piece of apparel. 

“Okay, Chris,” Dove says, sated. “That’s pretty smart.”

Wow. 

Eddie looks at Buck and snorts, amused. 

“Jokes on you,” Buck grumbles. “I’m sending her to your place next time she needs convincing of anything.”

Eddie shrugs. “I’m not complaining.”

▪️▪️▪️

It’s a really nice afternoon, even if it is a little chilly. Dove puts her feet in the ocean and makes a shrill giggle-shriek combo noise when a receding wave pulls sand over her toes. Eddie convinces her to look for sea glass. 

[sushiwriterhere]

coming home to you

summary: "It hit him like this sometimes, all tsunami and three-hundred-mile-an-hour winds and lightning strikes, just how much he wanted you."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni - so nsfw it's not funny) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 3.5k warnings: ass play, somnophilia (slight if you squint-ish), dry humping, thigh fucking, PiV (unprotected, pls wrap before u tap irl), rimming, cum play, squirting, no use of y/n.  notes: this is 1000% the most nsfw thing i have ever written so pls dni if ur a minor (srsly im not fucking around) and otherwise pls give feedback!! doing my best with characterization, hope y'all enjoy! my other works are here tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @waklman - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are horny for bradley soooo pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

He didn’t know when he had become like this, all desperate and needy for your touch.

When you’d started dating, Bradley did his best to be the gentleman his mother raised him to be: opening your car door, always paying on dates, bringing flowers, and walking on the outside of the sidewalk. He did his best not to gawk at you when your dresses cut low on your chest or when you bent over in front of him to pick up the bobby pin you’d dropped in his doorway. 

But it really was getting difficult. 

You’d started staying nights. Bradley wasn’t a prude or anything like that, he was human and he had needs and he wasn’t going to let some complex about sex prevent him from being with you. But there were things that he wanted that he wasn’t sure you wanted. 

It all started when he got home from a long day, far too long, of training. Mav had ‘shot him down’ more times than he could count, and it was a small blessing that each of the penalties had been fifty pushups and not two hundred. Nevertheless, his arms ached and he was developing this nasty knot at the base of his neck that made him want to never put a helmet on again. 

When he pushed open his front door, he could hear you bustling in the kitchen, clearly having come over to make dinner. Your jacket was thrown over the back of the couch, your keys in the bowl by the door–god it almost seemed too good to be true to his exhaustion-addled brain. He moved on autopilot as he dropped his bag in the laundry room and made his way to you. 

Standing in front of the stove, you were stirring something that smelled like tomatoes and basil and everything heavenly, all the while softly singing along to whatever your phone was playing. 

“Bradley! You startled me.” You jumped as his arms wrapped around your midsection and his forehead came to rest on your shoulder, “Missed you while you were at work.”

All he felt like he could do was to just stand there, borderline useless, as you threaded one perfectly manicured hand into his hair and continued stirring with the other. Your nails felt like heaven scratching at his scalp, sending tingles down his spine. God he wanted you so badly. 

It hit him like this sometimes, all tsunami and three-hundred-mile-an-hour winds and lightning strikes, just how much he wanted you. It was in the mundane moments mostly–watching you cook, your focused face when you were reading a work email. He didn’t think it would ever stop stealing his breath. 

“Bad day.” He mumbled, leaning his weight into you as you leaned yours into him.

He let himself follow your gentle, but stunted, shuffle around the kitchen as you salted the pasta water and threw more spices into the sauce. 

“Can I help make it better?” 

The complete pureness and kindness in your voice made Bradley feel a little nuts–because that’s just who you were. So giving and open, always there to support him, always there to listen to him rant about his latest spat with Mav or worry about another deployment. 

Now it wasn’t like Bradley was just leaving you hanging, but the near-perfect ebb and flow of your relationship made his chest ache. It also made that terrible possessive thing in his chest bare its teeth and whisper dark thoughts. It was the part of him that wanted to hide you away from prying eyes, that bared its teeth when men let their heads follow you across a room. 

He’d met you at the Hard Deck. You were new in town and looking for somewhere not too fancy, not too dive-y. You wore this sundress that Bradley knew he’d remember for the rest of his life, and you’d been all teeth and crinkled eyes when you smiled at how he played the piano. He didn’t play the piano for female attention, but when you looked at him like that, well, maybe it didn’t hurt. 

You were a bit of a social butterfly, introducing yourself as someone who was looking for friends and did anyone know of the best taco place in town and would the pilots maybe have any beer recommendations? He couldn’t help but be drawn to you. And when you’d given him just a bit of shit about the mustache and Hawaiian shirt combo, it was over for him. 

Your relationship progressed at just the pace Bradley preferred–first date he had dropped you off with a chaste kiss on the cheek. On the second date you’d surprised him just a bit by pulling him in by the collar of his shirt to kiss him stupid on your doorstep. You had straight up asked if he was planning on having you stay over before your third date; you wanted to bring your overnight supplies and really you liked being prepared. 

Now here he was, with his nose tucked into your neck, back slightly aching from the angle, inhaling what was uniquely you. He didn’t want to come home to anything else on a bad day, or a good day for that matter. 

“This is making it better, even though my back is kinda aching.” He admitted quietly, and he was almost offended by how hard your body shook with laughter.

“Okay well, if you let me go, we can eat and watch trash TV then I’ll massage out that knot at the base of your neck.” 

Bradley would be a fucking fool not to marry you. 

-

About one Bachelor episode later, Bradley could feel himself starting to nod off despite his best efforts. He had given up a long time ago trying to pretend like he didn’t care, and instead embraced that he loved the drama and the cat fights. He was sitting on the floor leaning up against the couch in between your knees, with your fingers digging into just the right spot. He could die a happy man right here. 

The sensation of your fingers pressing into his skin, your nails scratching at his hairline, made something curl pleasantly low in his stomach. There wasn’t anything technically embarrassing about sporting a semi when your girlfriend was giving you a massage, but he still felt the flush in his neck. You had clearly noticed because you let one of your hands curl around his jaw and turn his head to the side so you could press your lips into his. 

When your hair tickled his face, he shuddered. 

“Let’s go to bed, yeah Bradley?” You cooed, letting your hands fall to his shoulders so you could push yourself to standing. 

The two of you stumbled slowly to the bedroom, the move slightly awkward with the way Bradley kept leaning on you but also kept trying to press his lips into yours. Stripping of everything but underwear, Bradley let himself fall onto the bed without getting under the covers. He watched you brush your teeth with one eye open, the bathroom lighting giving your figure a fluorescent backlit halo. 

When you made it to bed, you shoved at him, “Go brush your teeth, Bradley, I’m not kissing you if you taste like tomatoes while I’m minty.”

With only a light amount of grumbling and complaining, he forced himself to brush his teeth and complete at least one part of the skincare routine you had set up for him. He didn’t want anything in the way of fucking you tonight–as soon as dinner was over, it had been occupying almost all of his thoughts. 

You squealed when he used the remaining amount of his energy to launch himself into bed, bouncing the both of you. For a moment, he just let himself go heavy on top of you. 

“Babe.” He grunted in response to the pet name, “You’re heavy.”

Lifting his head, Bradley pecked your lips and pulled back to look at you without rolling off, “Didn’t you want a weighted blanket?”

Your pout made his head spin, “Weighted blankets don’t usually have bony–oof!–elbows.”

Ever the drama queen, Bradley rolled off you with a huff. You giggled at his antics, and the sound of it made him feel like someone had lit his heart on fire. 

The two of you settled under the covers eventually, legs tangled together with your face pressed into his chest. Your fingers occasionally stroked down his pecs, the sensation was slightly odd against his fine chest hair but it made him shiver more than anything else. You seemed so comfortable petting him and snuggling into him, so who was he to disturb that.

He felt himself starting to drift off when your lips pressed to his, plush and warm. Your hand stroked his cheek, as if urging him to just drift (don’t think, just do) and let muscle memory guide the way his lips met yours. And boy was he ever content to do just that.

Half asleep, he rutted against you, just giving himself permission to feel and feel good. One of your hands clutched at his hip while the other tugged him into a kiss at the back of his neck, your lips moving gently against his in a wonderful contrast to the way his cock felt grinding on you, despite the two layers of clothing.

“Can I—” He couldn’t think straight at that moment.

He was overwhelmed all of a sudden by all the exhaustion and frustration of the day, by the need to feel you and have you close. He grabbed at his briefs before yanking them down just enough for his dick to be free and he almost groaned at the relief. 

You were hardly deterred by how desperate he seemed, and instead took it in stride. But when you went to take your panties off, he stopped you.

“Bradley? What’s wrong, what do you need, baby?” You asked as his hands wrapped around your wrists to center himself. 

He cleared his throat, momentarily embarrassed, but overall too desperate and wanting for it to really affect him.

“Can I fuck your thighs?” He whispered. “I want to make you cum first, but after that?”

It wasn’t necessarily the wildest thing in the world; rationally, he knew that. But he never wanted to encroach, never make you feel uncomfortable, didn’t want to make you feel used. It’s just that sometimes when you wore skirts and bent over, or when you were reaching for a glass or plate on the mornings you stayed over and his shirt rode up over the curve of your ass, he could see that spot at the top of your legs where your thighs touched—and all he could think about was what it might feel like to hold you by your hips and slide his cock there.

You shivered and murmured that of course he could. He dragged you over him so that your legs were framing his hips and pulled your still-clothed cunt over his cock. Clearly you were almost as affected as he was with your panties sporting what felt like a decent sized wet spot at the crotch. 

But he wanted more. He wanted them soaked so that your thighs were slick with it, so that he could pull them to the side and let the bite of the waistband center you while he pressed his head into your clit. He wanted to lose himself in you.

Your gasps and whines were mind altering, the stuff that Bradley stored away for moments alone while deployed. He tried to let you control the rhythm, just letting himself massage at the fat of your ass and the muscle of your thighs. The broken moan you let out when he dragged his fingertips up your back made him grit his teeth.

He knew you were close when the steady rhythm of your hips began to stutter, as if the mechanics of the motion was all autopilot, whatever it took to get you there. When you came you licked into his mouth and tried to kiss him, but mostly just ended up sloppily pressing your lips together with tongue. Bradley didn’t care though, because the feeling of your soaked panties dragging over his dick was making him feel crazy.

Eventually, he eased you off of him and onto your side so that his chest was plastered to your back. He made easy work of his boxers, sliding them off and losing them immediately in the mess of bed covers. The thin layer of sweat between the two of you was just more evidence of what had happened, and the way you jerked from oversensitivity when he played with your nipples was another reminder. And god, just like he had wanted, the insides of your thighs were slick with the mix of your cum and his precum. 

Framing his hips right against yours, he gave an experimental thrust right into that spot he always stared at. He absolutely was not going to last long. Everything was just so much—from the way you kept twitching from the onslaught of sensations to the slight roughness of your panties against him to the way you twisted your head back to kiss him messily. All of it was so much against the smooth glide of your thighs. 

Bradley let one of his hands move away from your nipples to pull the fabric to the side, and he groaned at the sensation of his sliding cock sliding up and down the length of your pussy. You wailed at how the head of his dick rubbed right up against your clit again and again and he could feel just how much arousal was pouring out of you. Your hand shot out to grip his hair and he mouthed at your neck, tasting salt and something so distinctly you. 

“F-Feels so good, Bradley, always feels s-so good,” You gasped.

When you started thrusting back against him, he was done for. He scrambled to pull your panties further to the side just enough so he could slip the head of his cock into you, and the sensation sent him over the edge. Despite your orgasm, you clenched around him, tight, hot, and everything he had ever wanted and more. A few more thrusts and he felt his orgasm spreading to his fingertips, making his brain go fuzzy. He was sure he was babbling some nonsense as his cock caught on the edge of your hole and the slight resistance made his teeth hurt. 

You groaned at the sensation of him finishing in you, content to let him ride out the aftershocks with little stutters of his hips. Eventually, he came back to earth and that bone-deep satisfaction washed away the stress from the day. You two lay there for a moment, catching your breaths.

“Fuck, you’re incredible.” He whispered, easing himself out of you and helping you shimmy out of your underwear. 

“Thank you, babe,” His chest felt tight at your tone and the soft look in your eyes as you stroked his cheek when he leaned over you to climb out of bed. 

“Anything,” his throat welled up a bit and he cleared it, “Anything for you.”

Honestly, cleaning you up after fucking your thighs was the least he could do. After stripping completely and padding to the bathroom to clean himself off, Bradley wet a washcloth and pulled on another pair of briefs just to be comfortable. 

When he got back, you had settled with one of your feet flat on the bed, the knee of the leg closer to him slightly raised with one arm thrown over your eyes to block the gentle light from the bathroom. You looked so beautiful. The rise and fall of your breath accentuated your chest and you looked so at peace. 

The moment was broken when his eyes reached the place where he could see his cum dripping down the crease of your ass.

Suddenly Bradley felt very awake. Dropping to his knees on the carpet, he tugged you to the edge of the bed, and tilted your hips upwards. 

You were a sight to behold. Your thighs were still wet from where he had been fucking them and your pussy was glistening from your orgasm. But it was the way his cum steadily pulsed out of you, over your puckered hole, and onto the mattress that made him feel like he’d died and gone to heaven. He felt his cock twitch with interest. 

“Bradley?” You said softly, slightly confused at the way he seemed to be frozen between your legs when he was usually so determined to get you cleaned up.

His tongue felt like it was made of lead—he couldn’t respond. All he could do was stare as his thumbs gently pulled your cheeks apart so he could get a better view. 

The ah sound you made when he stroked his thumb over your asshole felt like a punch in the gut. The stuttered, gasping moan you let out when he finally, finally licked it could have made him finish right then and there.

“Oh god, oh fuck, babe—” For a split second Bradley thought you might pull him away, reject him in that gentle way of yours you always used when redirecting him.

Instead, your hands shot out to his hair and yanked. Hard. Your hips bucked up and you pulled his face into you as he dived in eagerly. 

Maybe he’d confess it to you after this was over, but this was the stuff that haunted his imagination when he thought about you late at night. Some primal part of him wanted to be the one to have you every which way you’d let him, and now that he knew that it was on the table, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough. He’d come shockingly quickly into his own fist more times than he could count since he’d started seeing you to the thought of fucking you in your ass, to the thought of rimming you til you couldn’t take it anymore. 

The noises you were making were heavenly–moans and whimpers for more. He held your hips down so you couldn’t escape his tongue, his thumbs holding you open for him. It was all you could do–beg for more. The slick pouring from your pussy was overwhelming and the grip on his hair was borderline painful, but it kept him grounded.

“Bradley!” You wailed when he inserted a finger into your spasming cunt and curled it upwards in a petting motion. 

He didn’t think he’d ever seen you quite like this. When he opened his eyes, your chest was heaving, your face barely visible from how you’d thrown your head back in ecstasy, a thin sheen of sweat covering your torso. It was potentially the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life. 

When he added a second finger, your hips bucked up so hard he almost lost his grip on you. But he could feel the way you were close around his tongue as it circled and gently pushed past the initial ring of muscles. It took all his focus to not cum in his boxers from the thought of imaging how you might feel, clenched around his cock as he pushed into your ass. 

“Babe, I think I’m going to–!” Was all you managed to get out before your orgasm hit you.

Bradley would never forget where he was when he made you squirt for the first time–there, on his knees in front of you, exhausted from a long day of work. The noise you made seemed to be torn from your chest as you rode out your orgasm on his fingers and tongue. For a moment, your body moved on its own accord, chasing and trying to prolong your pleasure. 

And in that moment, when he couldn’t resist any longer and reached down to palm himself for a bit of relief, his own orgasm stole all the air from his lungs. Leave it to Bradley to come in his boxers like a high schooler from rimming you for the first time. 

Slowly, gently, he pulled his fingers out of you, not missing the way your fingers flexed in his hair and you clenched around him. You tasted incredible as always, slightly salty with something else that was just so you. He’d never get tired of it. 

There was a moment of silence before you pushed yourself to your elbows, an absolutely wild look in your eyes, “Bradley Bradshaw you are a menace.” And then you collapsed in a fit of giggles.

He sat there, fingers half way out of his mouth, chest and face soaking wet with you, and watched as you laughed to yourself about how horny he was for you not even moments after he made you squirt. 

“Are you making fun of me?” Now he was laughing a bit too.

Then you were crawling over to him as he stood slowly, pulling him down and over you. Your lips pressed together over and over as you stroked his hair, over his shoulders and down his back. 

“You silly, horny, man. I love you so much. Let’s shower and go the hell to sleep.”

-

read the next part of this series here

[pendragonsclotpole]

hi i just started watching that 911 show in the background while working thinking it would be a basic cop show/procedural drama i could play for white noise to boost my productivity like i did with all six seasons of SWAT (shout out to shemar moore’s overly passionate pecs and BECAUSE SWAT IS FAMILY speeches and that one ryan and shane cameo for getting me through my job onboarding months ago) and avoid the attention issues i get with british legal and cop dramas (shout out to the current loml rupert penry jones on silk and whitechapel, his roles as clive reader and di chandler are iconic)

and like yes. 911 is exactly that. so cringey. so feel warm-y and trite in the worst ways possible, filled with random monologues, oddly paced and placed one-liners, random quote intros that desperately try to replicate the word bangers of criminal minds, unnecessary flashbacks interspersed in the worst episode arcs ever and completely destroying the suspense, and with the weirdest combination of over-acting and under-acting in the entire fucking world that i have ever seen, and some entire scenes i just cannot stand to watch but do anyway because of how unrealistic and ridiculous they are but oh my god when this show hits its high points, it hits them

i need angela bassett’s athena grant to come and railroad my life. i want her to point her finger in my face and threaten to cuff me to my bed like she did that boyfriend in that season one episode (and yes THAT HAPPENED THANK GOD THE BUCK CENTRIC SEXY SCENES DID NOT LAST AS LONG AS SOME OTHER SHOWS COUGH SWAT COUGH BUT WHY NO MORE ATHENA?) you my friends have not lived until you’ve seen her on the other end of a huge tv screen raising her eyebrow and acting like she’s about to beat you up with nothing more than her commanding tone.

and also like all the other fucking characters.

i watched this show hoping to have inane drama and dialogue watching over me while i send emails and plan. i did not watch this show to bite my nails over maddie buckley’s psycho ex husband storyline, nor to swoon over the romance between to her and chimney (howard han i would die for you, your bg episode was so sad but so beautiful and if you had died i wouldve been so sad, yours were the flashbacks that won me over), nor to fangirl over ROBERT FUCKING NASH AND HIS GUILT COMPLEX (I LOVE YOU BOBBY), or to have my heart grow three sizes with the fucking tsunami episode

like you guys, i was on the edge of my seat, eating my dinner and actually wondering if they were about to kill off christopher diaz and break my heart and buck’s heart and ruin everything and like they didnt but now evan buckley’s character growth is such an inspiration and i just dont want him to fuck it up by trying to go back to work early and ahhhhhhhhhhh this was supposed to be a casual watch but now im writing this so im gonna have to find something else or worse go back to watching silk or whitechapel in the bg and be enraptured by rupert

[wonjnz]

drunk on (the thought of loving) you

₊˚⊹ summary: five years of loving hanbin can be told within taking five shots.

₊˚⊹ genre: angst (idk if this is even sad at all.. VV SLICE OF LIFE), best friend!hanbin, collegel!au | wc: 2.2k

₊˚⊹ warning(s): swearing, mentions of drinking | inspo: that’s what you get - paramore

₊˚⊹ a/n: idk this was kinda scrapped last month .. i’ll just post this bc i wanna keep this acc alive!!!

i. the first shot

you vividly remember watching hanbin crying in the driver’s seat.

you were the first person he called right after he got dumped by his now ex-girlfriend; and all you could do was watch and offer him a few tissues from the passenger’s side, occasionally offering a “she wasn’t all that, anyway.” whenever hanbin would rant about how much he wasted his love on her just to get ghosted.

“i don’t know anymore, y/n. am i that dumb to not notice she isn’t into me?” he asks despite his throat dry from crying, looking at you.

and that’s when you had that damn cheesy realization the moment you looked at hanbin again — the realization where you’ve stupidly fallen for your long-time best friend and that stupid, high school love you’ve been trying to avoid for all these years slowly dawns on you now despite both of you in college.

you shrug your feelings off for the meantime, “of course not. plus, you deserve someone way better.” you assure him.

the moment you arrive home, you’ve had the whole night to confirm that you were, in fact, helplessly in love with sung hanbin.

you don’t even know how it started — maybe it was during the one time he tiredly slept on your shoulder while on the way home from a field trip, or the way he’d always invite and mention you everywhere and anytime he could to the point even his friends thought you were together, and you don’t even dare try to remember how he said “i’ll love you whenever nobody is there to do it.” that one night during your nightly calls.

and as if that wasn’t already a big wave enough, zhang hao’s reaction to it felt like a tsunami.

“say you’re kidding right now.” zhang hao says in disbelief at your confession the next day, putting his drink down to focus solely on you. “you, liking your — our best friend since middle school, right after his ass got dumped?”

you frown and shrug as a reply, “i don’t know, everything just clicked that time. i think that’s like three years worth of having to interpret his mixed signals towards me.”

zhang hao sighs at your confused state, taking a sip from his coffee before speaking up, “so you’ve liked him for at least three years now?”

slowly nodding, you put your head in your hands. “god, i’m such a fucking dumbass, hao.” you say exasperatedly as you dread the day you’d grow tired and finally confess to hanbin,

“you think you’ll try talking to him about it soon?”

“i don’t think i’ll ever have the guts to tell him, hao.” you say defeatedly, looking down at your phone to see that hanbin sent another really long rant about his ex. “not when he’s still fresh out of a relationship, that’s for sure.”

“i’m just scared that once i confess, i’ll ruin everything. i’ll ruin us.”

you felt helpless, hopeless even, just the mere thought of seeing hanbin’s pitiful reaction at your confession is enough to make you pass out in the bustling cafe you were in. what more when he’ll start distancing himself days after? you were terrified.

zhang hao waves your fear off nonchalantly, “you’ll never know. what if you’re in some kind of drama and this could be your chance?” he tries to lighten the mood, smiling victoriously when you raise your eyebrows at him.

“don’t feed into my delusions hao,” you roll your eyes at him. “i'll just tell him once i'm over from this whole dumb ‘liking your best friend’ thing.”

“by the looks of it, i don't think that's happening anytime soon.”

you scoff and playfully hit zhang hao’s shoulder, receiving a small scowl from him, “but you gotta admit, we make a good pair,”

“he just doesn't love me that way.”

ii. the second shot

sometimes you wish you weren’t too adamant on hanbin drinking his heartbreak out, especially now that you’re left with a drunk-out-of-his-mind hanbin in your apartment. (you mentally curse zhang hao for leaving earlier than expected.)

the night started off with the three of you making a toast to hanbin moving on, which then evolved into a mini ranting session about going into college life, then a sudden karaoke break, zhang hao leaving after, and now this.

you’re both slouched on the dining table, arms serving as your only pillow because for some reason you can’t walk over to your sofa, and with no knowledge of time as you ramble on about the most random topics you could think of.

hanbin hums amusingly, “y’know, even if you say nobody is there to love you, i’m always here as your best friend.” his words slurred and groggy. and even with the amount of alcohol in your system numbing your senses, you still felt that little sting in your heart, you only laugh as a reply.

“so you'll only ever see me as a friend?”

you hear him hum lowly, “of course, what else would i think of you as?”

right, of course.

“not even more than a friend?” you, or the alcohol in your system, ask again. hanbin slowly hums again, the sound softening until you're met with nothing but the sound of the bustling city outside your apartment.

a few minutes passed by and you finally gain the strength to at least sit up, the sight of hanbin sleeping coming in full view — his slight pout, light breathing with a few snores here and there, and ruffled hair was honestly a sight you wished you could look at forever. but you swear the longer you stared at him, that god-awful feeling of regret starts to feel even stronger than before.

but that night, you fell in love with sung hanbin for a second time.

iii. the third shot

“you know, we started talking again.” hanbin shares through the phone, going silent as he expects some reaction. no way.

you shift in your seat, “seriously? didn’t you say you officially moved on like what, two years ago?” hanbin smiles sheepishly to himself before saying, “she messaged me last night, so i replied. we talked the whole time i barely slept.”

“we’ll hang out a bit after this actually! you wanna join us?” he offers innocently, your heart receiving a jab this time when you noticed how excited his voice seemed just at the mere thought of seeing her, you knew hanbin well enough to know he was madly in love yet again.

you stay silent for a few minutes before speaking up, “you guys have fun, i don’t wanna be the third-wheel between you two.” hanbin mumbles a small ‘awe,’ before eventually ending the call to get ready.

next thing you know, you’re on facetime with zhang hao bawling your eyes out about what just happened. “see i told you, he’s still hung up on her.” he says while walking around his apartment.

genuinely speaking you don’t know what’s worse, the harsh truth zhang hao was telling or the way you could barely hear his voice due to the amount of muffling and moving he’s doing.

“did you see the way he’s talking about her? he’s literally the most obvious man alive.”

“you’re really not helping me here hao.”

“right, sorry.” zhang hao immediately shuts up, humming a bit before speaking up again. “i know it’s not easy, but at least try to move on from him, y’know?” he says, his voice filled with sympathy at your state.

before you could speak up zhang hao continues on, “it’s not possible, i know, or — i don’t know, just tell him so you can get that burden off, i’m sure he’ll understand anyway.”

you groan at the thought of confessing, “are those really my only choices?”

“unless you wanna live with getting hurt over and over again, yeah.” zhang hao shrugs.

you sigh at his advice, he was right after all, but every time you remember your friendship is at stake; you back out at the last minute. “i’ve been handling this for two years, hao, don’t you think i can handle two more?” zhang hao chuckles almost pitifully.

“of course not, you’ve been handling this whole hanbin thing for, correction, five years too long. you've genuinely gone batshit crazy.”

“honestly hao fuck you because was the last part really that necessary?”

iv. the fourth shot

god, you’re tired of hanbin’s constant compliments about her; how she’s the best person in the world, how she’s the prettiest girl he’s seen, how she’s so special and dear to him. almost every conversation you’ve had would always go back to something related about her, even if it meant the most absurd topics only you three would know. the topic could be about how zhang hao got lost in the middle of a forest and hanbin would still tie it back to her.

hell, he even mentions her even while drinking.

but you’ve handled it for five years now, so what’s the difference?

the three of you were celebrating your graduation in zhang hao’s apartment, the bouquet from your parents laying on the sofa while your togas were thrown across the room while zhang hao’s coffee table was filled with a bunch of soju and shot glasses you bought from a nearby convenience store.

“thank god we’re finally graduates, i can finally escape from all those girls taking candid pictures of me.” zhanghao sighs in relief the moment he starts downing his first drink of the night, pouring more.

“you sure? i already saw new fansites of you online, they’ll never leave you alone at this rate.” hanbin retorts, you chuckle at zhang hao's horror as he's frantically checking his twitter to see pictures of him at his graduation.

the night, cliché enough, felt like a dream. the three of you basking in the temporary freedom of adulthood before you start looking for work.

as it went on, you missed the days where you could look at hanbin without noticing the stars in his eyes, the days where you could still speak full coherent sentences whenever his attention is fully on you, and zhang hao noticed.

“it's just hard to say no to someone you really loved,��� you hear hanbin say, zhang hao had brought up his ex (to your absolute horror and zhang hao's drunkenness) and you've been quiet the whole conversation.

“especially with her, it felt like i had no more to give but the moment we talked — there was still something left.”

you chuckle, not at him, but the way his words hit how you feel with hanbin right in the center. and yet you just can't refuse to give hanbin the little love you have left even when he's freely giving his own to someone else.

you take another shot to drown your feelings out more, “so you just can't say no, right?” you ask, seeing if he feels the same way.

hanbin smiles at you before nodding, placing his shot glass down to lean back on his chair. “yeah. you really can't.” he answers, confirming that you were both experiencing the same form of love. but painfully enough, just not towards each other.

god, was the truth so anticlimactic for you.

the way hanbin talks about her with the same lovestruck eyes whenever you talk about him to zhang hao, how you notice the little things in hanbin the way he also notices the little things in her — you knew it from the start.

but to see it slapped to your face despite knowing how it'll end, just felt like reality slowly kicking in the more drinks you take.

and now, under zhang hao's dim apartment lights, you realized that the truth that sung hanbin will never see you as more than his most cherished best friend since middle school, really does hurt.

you swear you were just drinking your first shot, but when you woke up to find yourself on zhang hao's bed; a loud snore coming from the living room and—

v. the fifth shot

“you awake?”

shit.

quickly turning to hanbin's figure by the bedroom door despite the pounding headache, you slowly nod. “just woke up actually.”

as you slowly look at hanbin by the bedroom door, you immediately remember the day you realized your feelings for him — his face puffy from crying yet still so pretty under that orange sunset glow, his hands that’d usually tap on the steering wheel when he was starting to calm down again, and the way his shirt was so wrinkled in one specific area from all the bunching.

it felt almost too poetic to have that sort of realization under the sunset in his car, almost as if you’re bidding goodbye to the days you used to look at him as just your best friend.

so you, or the remaining alcohol in your system figured, rather, that you make use of the sunrise to finally welcome the harsh truth of confessing to him.

and you did.

“i love you.”

you’re met with nothing but silence, looking down to save yourself from bawling your eyes out in front of him.

“i’ve loved you for five years, hanbin. five fucking grueling years.” you manage to croak out, not noticing the way hanbin slowly makes his way towards you, nor the way his eyes significantly soften when he sees zhang hao’s sheets slowly staining from your tears.

a few minutes pass without much happening, the room only filled with the sounds of your sniffling.

“i’m sorry, y/n.” hanbin whispers, eventually embracing you to at least bring some comfort. but to his dismay, his actions just made you cry even harder; not because you just got rejected, but because of how soft his voice and embrace was it felt like he was pitying you.

in his defense, who wouldn’t? you loved him for so long, despite knowing he’s still hung up on his ex-girlfriend and regardless will still see you as his most precious best friend. all he could do at the moment was continuously say ‘i’m sorry’ whenever you cling onto his shirt tighter as support.

as you continue to cry in his embrace, you realized that under the sunset, you were there to comfort hanbin. but as you’re both waiting for the sunrise, you figured he’ll never be the one there for you like he promised.

[buckychristwrites]

When The Rain Gathers | Chapter Two | j.t.

↳  Pairing: Jamie Tartt x f!reader

↳ Word Count: 3.7k

↳  Summary: Pain hits like a downpour, but when a heartbreak from your past is what greets you at your new job at Nelson Road Stadium, it's more like a catastrophic tsunami.

↳  Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Discussion of parental abuse, fluff and angst.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Main Blog

“Fuck. Focus.”

Jamie paced outside of the door of your new office. The door was open, but the inside was completely bare save a desk, three chairs and a laptop. Due to the impending doom in his brain and the never-ending racing heart in his chest, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. So, instead of waltzing into the changing room just moments before training was due to start, as he normally would, he was there an hour early, waiting for your arrival.

Hesitantly, he made his way into the empty office. Wherever he waited, he would feel like a shithead, so might as well feel like a shithead with his arse in a seat. It didn’t have any signs of you in it just yet, which made sitting there alone much easier to swallow. It wouldn’t be the same in the future, once the room was covered with your fingerprints and homey touches. He took the seat closest to the window. Heavy rain hit the glass and rooftop, making sure to echo throughout the entire building. It made him think of the drive in front of his mum’s house back home, and a little red car packed with luggage.

Blinking, he looked away.

“Jamie?”

He turned to find Dr. Fieldstone at the doorway. Her hand was on the frame as she stared at him.

“You alright, Doc?” He asked, shifting so he could comfortably face her. She took a glance around the room in obvious confusion.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. He took a glance around himself, realising how silly this must’ve looked. 

“Got an appointment this mornin’,” He said. It was a lie. But him feigning confusion was the only sort of explanation he could come up with. Sharon shook her head.

“Your appointment would be with me, but I don’t have you on my schedule.”

This made Jamie scrunch his face up in confusion.

“I thought…” He pointed to the desk. “I thought she…” Before he could continue with his thought, Sharon shook her head. It was like she read his mind. 

“Your appointments will continue with me,” She explained. “I was informed there’s a… conflict of interest.” She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. 

He wondered how much you had told Sharon. Did she know everything? Did you tell her what he did? The kindness on her face suggested that she didn’t have a clue, but then again, it’s her job to pretend to be nice to him, wasn’t it?

He brought a hand to his face, running it across his forehead. Of course Sharon wasn’t being nice because it’s her job. That was just his mind running away from him. 

“Don’t get yourself worked up, Jamie,” She assured him. “We’re not allowed to treat people we know. It’s just not ethical. Nothing more than that.” He released his held breath. Giving him a knowing look, she leaned forward into the room, lowering her voice. “You can tell me why you think it’s about more than that at your appointment… tomorrow.” 

Oh man. She is good.

Dr. Fieldstone did not loiter, just gave him a final look before walking back to her office. Jamie remained seated as he ran a hand down his face. 

He tried to think of literally anything else, but when he looked outside at the rain again, all it did was bring back more memories of you. 

Every second that he was awake since the revelation yesterday, which had been a lot more time than he would’ve liked, he was on the brink of a complete mental breakdown. At this moment in your office, he found himself preemptively doing his grounding techniques. 

“I see and feel this desk,” He muttered to himself. He placed his other hand on the chair. “I feel this chair. I see a white wall. I see the…the rain…” 

What am I going to do without you?

“God dammit.” Resisting the urge to punch something, he ran his fingers through his hair. Maybe he should just go down to the changing room and get ready for training. Did this conversation really have to happen right now, this early morning? Maybe it could wait, at least until after training.

But it couldn’t. Jamie knew that well enough. It was already affecting him at home, keeping him up at night. Lord only knows how it would hurt him during training, if he didn’t get it out of the way. And if he fucked up on the pitch, Roy Kent would have his balls.

He knew the only way to move on was to open the door to communicate, and the only person to do it had to be the one who closed that door in the first place. Him.  

“Thank god me appointment is tomorrow,” Jamie muttered to himself as he grabbed his phone from his pocket, opening Instagram to pass the time.

“No, mum, I don’t have any appointments today,” You said into your phone speaker as you drove down the road. “It’s my first day. I think I’ll just be signing paperwork and going over policies. All that general stuff.” Behind you came a loud giggle, and when you glanced in the rearview, you caught Ivy hitting her hand against the window. She had always loved the rain, which she couldn’t have learned from you. The rain was your worst enemy.

“Did ya see Jamie Tartt?” Your mum asked, trying to sound casual. You stared out the windscreen, wondering why she would do this right now. All it did was force you to revisit the anger you had felt all of last night that she didn’t warn you of his place on the team. 

“Yes, I saw Jamie,” You sighed. 

“Did you kick him in the fuckin’ balls for me?”

This made you laugh. “No, unfortunately, my new boss who’s kind of scary was right there.” From the other side of the phone, you could hear her mutter something incoherent before she responded.

“Please do, when you get the chance, love.”

As you pulled into the car park of Nelson Road Stadium, Ivy let out another laugh. You could see the car of your babysitter waiting for you. 

“Alright, mum, I gotta go,” You said as you turned the car off. “Love you. I’ll phone later.”

“Love you, darlin’,” She said. “Give Ives a kissie from her nan.” 

“Will do.” Ending the call, you stuffed the phone in your pocket before grabbing your bag and climbing out of the car. When you opened the door to the backseat, Ivy was focused on the stuffed teddy on her lap. “Alright, love. Are you ready to go with the babysitter?” 

Ivy furiously shook her head. 

“No, please.”

You knew it would be hard. She had loved her babysitter back in the United States. Ivy wasn’t the type to become accustomed to strangers quickly, and you worried about the young girl behind you, who was climbing out of her car just as you undid Ivy’s seatbelts. 

“Thank you for meetin’ me here!” Shannon called to you as she shut the car door and made her way over. “My mum needed help with somethin’, and it was faster to meet you than to race home.” 

You glanced over towards her car, spotting the car seat that was similar to Ivy’s. A sigh of relief fell from your chest. At least you didn’t have to transfer the car seat over to her car.

“I should be thanking you,” You said as Ivy curled into your shoulder. “I know it’s last minute but I needed someone fast.” Shannon leaned her head towards Ivy, sending a wave her way. Though the toddler didn’t completely hide her face, she didn’t reciprocate the gesture, either. 

“Hello, Ivy,” She said delicately.

You set your daughter down on the cement. She pressed herself into your legs before looking up at the sky. For a moment, she seemed to forget the fear, her little hands reaching up as she smiled at the clouds. It was hard not to watch when she got like this. You had never seen any toddler behave like this about anything, so of course it would be yours who would have such a delightful, intense love for something.

“She loves the rain,” You explained to Shannon, who was looking at her in awe and confusion. “I’ve never met a toddler more obsessed.” 

Shannon kneeled down to Ivy’s level, her eyes warm and friendly. “I like the rain too. Would you like to be friends, Miss Ivy?” Ivy clearly was debating this, looking up at you for reassurance. You gave her a little nudge with a smile.

“I like Shannon,” You told her. “I think you’ll like her too. But you do have to go with her.” 

Ivy’s gaze found Shannon again as you guided her to the young girl. With all of the hesitation in the world, when Shannon offered her hand, Ivy took it but not before throwing you an unsure glance. 

“Maybe we can jump through puddles for a little bit before going back to the house!” Shannon suggested excitedly. “Would you like that?” Ivy’s eyes seemed to glaze over, and then she was jumping up and down in excitement. You sighed in relief as you kneeled down to say goodbye to your daughter. 

“I love you, babe,” You said to her, giving her a kiss and hug, which she lovingly returned. “Mummy’ll pick you up after work, okay?”

“Love you, mummy!” She shouted as you stood up. 

As Ivy turned to face Shannon, you grabbed a box of belongings for your office out of the backseat of your car. From what you could tell, as far as first meetings go, Ivy was doing incredibly well. Better than you had expected, considering the stress of the move and the new environment. Although, leaving her with babysitters never got any easier. You wished it were possible to just bring her to work with you. Having an adorable, therapy toddler would be perfect for the players.

Well. Except the one you wanted nowhere near her.

You gave them a quick wave before making your way inside. When you threw one last look over your shoulder, you found that Ivy had already found the largest puddle she could, jumping into it and sending water scattering. The anxiety in your chest was replaced with ease. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

The security guard waved you through without looking up from his computer. It was livelier this morning than it had been the previous day, with people shuffling down the hallways in packs. As you quickly walked in the direction that Rebecca had shown you to get to your office, you kept your head down. The first day jitters were hitting you hard at this moment. Sounds seemed to fade as you made your way up the stairway towards your office. The idea of being alone for even a moment before you started working with Sharon sounded just heavenly.

 You froze at the top of the steps, your eyes quickly spotting the presence waiting for you.

He was wearing a hat that boldly said I,COG. The brim covered his face as he looked down at his phone, but you knew it was him. You inhaled sharply before taking another step forward.

“Well, this isn’t quite the welcome wagon I had wanted.”

Jamie jumped out of the seat, his phone clattering to the floor. Without looking at him, you crossed into the room and rounded the desk, so you were on the opposite side as him. His eyes followed you the whole way, your chest burning in anxiety. This was the last thing you had expected, let alone wanted, to happen when you walked into Nelson Road Stadium that morning. You set the box of your things on your desk before letting your hands rest on your hips. 

“Fuck,” He muttered as he snatched his phone off the floor. The red in his cheeks and the disgruntled look on his face told you everything you needed to know. He was dreading this conversation just as much as you were. 

“What can I do for you?” Your voice was professional as you tried to put a wall up between yourself and him. Jamie stared at you before shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“I just…Well…” He sighed. “I thought we should… talk.” 

You let out a prolonged “Oh…” with the corners of your mouth ticking upwards in a smile, but it wasn’t a kind one. The professionalism you had been forcing was quickly melting away. 

“A bit late for this talk,” You said, your eyes staring at the ceiling in thought. “Let’s see… about three years! Yeah, three years too late.” It was hard to keep your anger level down, as it was already boiling over in your chest. The heat that rose up your neck and into your cheeks was intense.

Jamie shook his head. “You have every right to be angry-“

“Well, thank fuck that I have your permission to be angry. No idea what I would do without it.”

Jamie’s hands gripped at the strap of his bag like he was holding on for dear life. You could see his nails were down to the nubs. You couldn’t help but wonder; When did he start biting them again? Pushing the thought away, you scolded yourself for caring.

Part of you felt bad for the sarcasm, but you couldn’t help it. Before starting this line of work, you were the most sarcastic person there was, and seeing Jamie brought out parts of you that you hadn’t visited in a long time. 

It felt like you had jumped into one of your daydreams. The dreams of finally getting to tell Jamie off for the turmoil he caused. In some of them, you were angrier, throwing things and screaming in his face. In others, you were indifferent to him, examining your nails as he begged for forgiveness at your feet. Now that the moment was here, the reality was it felt like it was a combination of a lot of things. The biggest emotion you felt, however, was just pain. Simply looking at him caused your chest to ache. 

For Jamie, however, all he felt was guilt, and waves and waves of devastation. Simply looking at you reminded him of his past failures, of the man his father had turned him into. The man he had been working so hard to stop being. When he would dream of this moment, he never imagined you’d forgive him, so at least you were following the script.

“Can I just explain-“

“I don’t want an explanation,” You said firmly, waving your hand. “I just want to come in, do my job, and leave. I didn’t ask for any of this.” He glanced around the room as he carefully considered his next words. 

“Did- did ya know? That I play here?” He asked slowly. You had begun pulling papers out of the box when he spoke, and you dropped a pad of paper down quite loudly on top of the desk, causing Jamie to flinch. 

“Yeah, Jamie,” You said, rubbing one of your eyes with a fist. “I not only continued to follow your career after you fucking dropped off the face of my world, but I decided to uproot my entire life and move back here from the other side of the Earth and take a job at this football club specifically just because you play here. And I did all of that because I’m still hopelessly in love with you, and am trying to win you back.” 

Jamie cocked a head as he stared at you. Though he should've been focusing on your words, regardless of how malicious they were, he was trying to pinpoint what was so different about you. A long moment passed before he spoke again. 

“Your accent is different.” 

He could tell the statement caught you off guard, as your breath hitched in your throat. 

“The Americans got to me.” It sounded rehearsed, and he wondered how your proud Mancunian mum handled hearing you talk these days. 

The two of you stared at each other in stunned silence. His eyes wandered until something in the box on the desk caught his eye. A small figure with deep brown hair and familiar looking eyes. Taking a step forward, he reached for a picture frame that was on top. 

“Who’s-“

You snap the lid shut, almost catching the tips of his fingers.

“What right do you have to know?” You asked, your voice cold. “What right do you have to know anything about me anymore?” 

He heard it. The quiver in your voice. The falter in your hard exterior. It was disarming. This felt so much different than any other anger you had ever directed towards him. In all of the years he had known you, you had never shut him out like this before. He didn’t know how to take it.

He conceded. “I guess I don’t.” 

“Great,” You said with reformed confidence. “Glad we agree. Now get the fuck out of my office.” Without wasting another second, you turned away from him, as if your heart wasn’t drowning in devastation. Instead, you kept pretending that it was fire in your chest. 

He hovered as you began to unpack the box once more. When you set out the picture frame he had reached for, you had angled it so he couldn’t see who was in the photo. Briefly, he considered trying to look at it again, now that it was out in the open, but he didn’t. The last thing he wanted to do was make you angrier than you already were. Instead, he turned, and made his way out the door and down the stairs. 

The changing room was well and alive when Jamie entered. Laughter and conversation greeted him like an old friend. He made his way to his locker with his head down. Though some hellos were tossed his way, he didn’t return them. His head was spinning too much to speak.

“Oi.”

Jamie turned to find Roy Kent making his way towards him. He sat down on the bench next to where Jamie had set his bag down.

“Did you talk to her?” He kept his voice low to avoid the nosey teammates from overhearing. Jamie scratched his nose.

“Erm yeah. We talked.”

“And how did it go?” Roy sounded surprisingly curious, and, though anyone knew he would never admit it, concerned. 

Jamie shook his head before saying, “Fuckin’ awful, mate.” 

“I think it went as well as expected,” You said into your phone. In the heat of the moment after Jamie had left the room, you did the first thing you could think of to clear your head: Call your mum.

“Did ya…” She hesitated, and you knew whatever she was about to say next wouldn’t be something you liked. “Did ya tell him? About Ivy?” I sigh heavily, the breath forcing its way out of my chest.

“Of course not.”

“He needs to know, love,” Your mum said softly. “Is he a right prick? Of course. But he deserves to know that he’s her-“

“Don’t say it, please.” With your free hand, you rub one of your eyes. You smack it down against the wooden desk before speaking again. “I’ll tell him when I’m ready.” You heard her laugh softly, making you wonder if she was trying to hide it from you. 

“The longer ya wait, the harder it will be, d’ya know what I mean?” 

“Yes, mum.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then you heard a sigh come through the phone.

“You need to call me more so you can start talkin’ like a Mancunian again,” She scolded. “Can’t stand this new pseudo-American accent on you.” You shook your head in annoyance.

“Okay, bye mum,” You said, hanging up before she could say anything else. The phone made a loud noise when you tossed it across your desk. Resting your head in your hands, you let out a loud sigh. The day was not starting how you would’ve liked. 

A gentle knock at the door forced you to look up. Sharon walked into the room with a laptop and a giant binder. Across the spine read “Policies and Procedures.” She was eyeing you, but you couldn’t read her expression. As easy as it was to read everyone else, you clocked Sharon as the type who could hide herself away very well.

“You ready to get started?” She asked, sitting down in the chair that Jamie had previously been sitting in. Inhaling deeply in an effort to appear calm, you nod. 

“Of course.”

Out of the binder, Sharon pulls a stack of papers. 

“These are just the standard tax forms and policy agreements.” 

Without audibly responding, you take the stack and begin to flip through them. The room was silent besides the rain that continued to fall. It was hard to focus, as Jamie’s face kept appearing in your mind. Rope in the fact that you were being watched by someone who could professionally read people, and the struggle was intensely real.

“So…” Sharon started in a casual voice. “You and Jamie Tartt.” 

You glanced up in surprise. It was entirely unexpected for her to bring up. Sharon had a knowing smile on her face, the epitome of innocence. She didn’t wait for you to respond before speaking again. 

“What’s the story there?”

You think about her question. To say something. To not say something. Without meaning to, your eyes fall on the photo of Ivy that now sat on your desk. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sharon following your gaze to the frame, though she couldn’t see who was pictured on the other side. 

“It’s a long one,” You tell her as your eyes fall back to the paperwork. She leans back in the seat. 

“Well, I’d love to hear it sometime,” She said in her gentle tone, a hint of curiosity. “If the look on Jamie’s face this morning, or your demeanour right now are any indicator, I’d say it’s certainly an interesting one.”

~

TAGS

@oncasette, @shiptheship, @ajkdjdnkekemfxj, @breepboopbap, @sssatorus, @jelleeyfish, @puckyou-forpuckssake, @ricciardhoe3, @buckybarnex, @loveslide, @hopefulromances, @sokkigarden, @optimisticsandwichgladiator, @hanybunch, @skewedcherries, @pythagothug

[vanmarkus]

Fuck It Friday 🧇

Heyooo. I am still riding the canon bi Buck high and can't wait to see the mess that is the madney wedding lmao — and to watch Tommy be the hero of the day and his reward to be a dance with Buck at the hospital, in their tethered clothes. (hey, I can dream, alright?)

Anyway, I decided to give you a bit more of the jealous eddie fic, which, listen... I am turning it inside and outside in my head, trying to figure out how to go forward with it, but so far all I could come up with is; rewrite most of it. welp, c'est la vie.

This comes directly after this snippet.

The gun went off and Buck just stood there, frozen with Eddie’s blood splattered all over his face, until he got pushed to the ground.

It felt like a million years before his brain finally caught up with the events around him, kicking his instincts into gear and making him crawl under the truck and get to Eddie.

After that it was a blur of desperation and undivided focus.

Stay alive please stay alive don’t leave me don’t leave me don’t leave me god I can’t live without you please don’t leave me—

After Eddie’s gurney left his sight, everything went silent, as if someone had hit the mute button on Buck’s life. His mind was empty, his eyes unfocused, his body numb. He was completely out of it.

That’s when Taylor arrived and took him home, so he could clean himself up before seeing Christopher.

And fuck, he had to be strong, he knew that, but it was too hard and heavy, he couldn’t hold out for long. Bobby’s text was the last drop to break the dam, the relief of being out of the woods, the hope of not losing Eddie made his chest impossibly tight and there was no more holding back.

Of course, Christopher took it in stride like always. God, he loved that kid so much, he was the strongest, the sweetest and smartest kid he’s ever known — his own person, yet a perfect extension of his dad — and Buck has loved him like his own from the start. That was probably the first sign of many that he missed.

And then it hit him. When he first went to see Eddie after he woke up, running down the corridors to his room; Buck’s heart was beating out of his chest, but it still skipped an entire beat when Eddie smiled at him as he walked into the room.

Oh.

It came over him in waves, like he was watching the tsunami close in on him again, his emotions like water, pushed his body from side to side, constricted his lungs and made him feel like death was just around the corner.

The funny thing was… he knew it right there and then. He had no idea about how he felt before any of it and yet he knew; Eddie was it.

It was too much and too soon, overwhelming in a way he couldn’t qualify as good or bad, but suddenly breathing was hard around Eddie.

So when Taylor made a move, Buck clinged to it desperately, hoping against hope that it would be enough to shake the realisation. He knew better of course, but it seemed like the perfect hiding place at the time.

tags under the cut 💛

✨I have been tagged by and am tagging the ever so lovely

@sunshinediaz @spagheddiediaz @goforkinard

@exhuastedpigeon @nmcggg @bidisasterbuckdiaz

@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @honestlydarkprincess

@watchyourbuck @actualalligator @bucksbignaturals mwuahhh 💛

[bidisasterevankinard]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by @daffi-990 @transboybuckley @devirnis @fortheloveofbuddie @callmenewbie @giddyupbuck @jamespearce9-1-1 thank you💙💙💙

This week my brain concentrates on this secret angst fic I can't stop writing in the 🚌 :

Eddie feels like his own heart breaks before he says the words, burning his insides before he says them. He knows it's a bullet for both their hearts they might never recover from, but when they are out it looks like something more murderous. Like a tsunami that kills and breaks everyone and everything with its power, a tsunami that they both barely survived. Or the wildfire, destroying every little thing that can burn. They both are destroyed. And their love … Eddie hopes it survives, that this thing is stupidly lucky like them, because now it's all he has.

Hope about Buck taking him back when he will be ready for their partnership.

“We need a break,” never in his life Eddie wants to see Buck's eyes like that.

“A b-break?” it's barely a whisper. Like Buck tries to say it to make sure it was just a mistake or a joke.

Eddie wants to slap himself for the way Buck looks dead on his legs.

“Yes. We need a break, Evan,” another slap for using this name, but Eddie knows how to punch to make it bleed to make Buck give up on him. At least for a moment. The moment Eddie needs. “We need not be around each other.”

The silence and Buck's little sniffs and tears on his face is the worst answer. Maybe Eddie a little thought about Buck screaming at him to stop it.

After some minutes of them in an awkward situation: Eddie catalogs every Buck's expression for only self-torturing purposes and Buck cries not looking in his direction.

But then Eddie hears Buck's voice and the metallic almost not real or not emotional at all voice, not Buck's voice kills the silence.

“Okay. If-if it is what you want. I'll give you a break, Edmundo. I had a call from 136 three days ago. They need a backup for several months till Bosco’s partner comes back,” Buck comes to the door of the kitchen. “I'll go out of this door and you have six months that I will wait for you, Eddie. Six months. Not more. And then I want to hear your decision about us. If you don't want to end the break after that or you really just want to just break up with me, do it now. Be better than Abby,” Buck says, not looking at him. “I'm tired to be someone waiting for a partner who doesn't want him at all.”

Eddie hits the kitchen counter so hard he feels too much pain, but he doesn't move to Buck to beg him to stay how his heart wants.

“I'll call you. Maybe even before six months,” Buck nods and leaves.

Eddie hears Jeep’s engine only after twenty minutes.

Tagging @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @malewifediaz @wikiangela @wildlife4life @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @monsterrae1 @heartshapedvows @buddierights @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @watchyourbuck and anyone who wants

[binbitch]

im so sorry but chris finding out will be eddie's breaking point, because how do you, really, trust your dad again once he brings some woman that looks identical to your mom, whom you have only just started to grieve properly, to your hose when he is in a relationship. and this is not me saying eddie is a bad parent because i dont think so, what i do think is that eddie is grieving in the most fucked up way possible and that leads to him doing things he wouldnt do otherwhise.

lets think back to the other two most dark moments of eddie what were his reactions.

his wife, who he had a complicated relationship with, just came back into his and chris life after a while she realizes that she has to learn to be a mother and then to be a wife so she asks for divorce. a day later she is hit by a car and dies IN EDDIES ARMS. later, his bestfriend gets crashed by a fucking fire truck, and LATER his son and his bestfriend get stuck in a tsunami. he react by letting out his anger, sadness, worries and everything else by JOINING AN ILLEGAL FIGHT CLUB. does that sound like the most sane guy ever?

he gets shot, never speaks about it until his son breaks down because he is afraid his dad will die, what does he do? he quits his job to get a desk job where he is not fullfilled. BUT he does go to therapy, there his therapist tries to talk to him about his army days where he saved a convoy of people. he is really struggling so he tries raching out to the people he saved and turns out everyone is dead, everyone he risked his life saving is now dead. what does he do? he shuts himself off and gets to a point where he is in such a bad place where he grabs a baseball bat and smashes his whole room while his son is outside his door begging him to listen to him. his son is so afraid that he call his bestfriend to help.

now that we have that already established, i do think chris is going to be taken away from eddie in some way or form. no i dont think his parents will come and take chris's custody but i do think the isolation that rg talked about for s8 eddie, could be him going to texas for a while to recconec with chris and to have some time to reasses his life.

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : Available on Ao3

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

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Chapter 20: Is this what you wanted?

Chapter title is lyrics from "Kool-Aid"

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Darkness fell as soon as the door slammed shut behind us.

I don’t know how Oli could see anything in his hotel room when I was struggling to make out even the most basic of shapes after having been out in the bright corridor.

Where Mat just saw me be hauled off to – very obviously – be fucked.

But before I knew it I was no longer draped over Oli’s shoulder and my body had successfully connected with the mattress where he’d thrown me.

Panic washed over me like a tsunami as what just happened began to sink in, making me worry about their friendship; making me worry about Oli, and about Mat; making me worry I’ve fucked everything up beyond repair, that there’s no going back, that tonight’s sex with Oli – regardless of how badly I craved it – might put a nail in our coffin.

I heard myself hyperventilate as my eyes struggled to adjust to the room, faint washes of blue from the moonlight spilling through the large arch windows painting the room in navy and grey hues, the silhouette of the man at the end of the bed nearly completely black, with a slight sparkle hitting his eyes as his hands worked their way downwards to undo the buttons he had just buttoned not even a half hour ago, the light and excited energy he was emitting then having been snuffed out, replaced with the anger that permeated the air so thickly it was hard to breathe.

I couldn’t blame him. He had begged me multiple times to not tell him, to not torment him with the mental images of me and his best friend, yet I couldn’t help myself. I had to tell him.

“Strip.” He commanded as he shrugged out of his dress shirt, throwing it onto the floor.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The heartbeat in my throat threatened to choke me as I pushed the words out.

He huffed out a breath, “Why? Cause we ran into Mat?”

I tried to search for the right words, the words that would convey how I felt, how worried I was, but everything sounded wrong in my head – so self centred.

“You scared he’ll figure out we’re fucking tonight? Cause I’m pretty sure that cat’s out of the bag, love.” He said with sarcasm in his voice when I didn’t respond.

“I don’t want to be the reason you two fall out.” I blurted out, wanting to correct him, wanting him to know my fears aren’t just about myself.

There was a pause as he undid his belt, his head dipped before he muttered, “You know nothing about our friendship. Strip.”

The last word was nearly growled, springing my body into action, making me pull my sweater over my head out of instinct. It was only after I threw it to the side that I realised what I was doing, that I still wasn’t sure we should be doing this – but not unsure enough to use the safeword that would put a stop to it.

“Y-you could go talk to him if you want, and we can do this after.” My words came so meek, so soft, so pathetic.

“And tell him what? That he’s been kissing the mouth I cum in?” He spat, pulling the belt out of the trousers so fast it made a whirring sound. The rage simmering under the surface, close to boiling over, “That my whore wants to fuck him?” His belt hit the wall across the room, and from the sound the buckle made on impact I’d be surprised if it didn’t leave a dent.

I shouldn’t want to do this, I should say the safeword and talk to him, but the truth was the rage made me want him more, made my core throb in anticipation, made the wetness between my legs build to an uncomfortable level.

“I never said that.” The familiar fluster was back in my voice. Predictable and uncontrollable.

I hated myself.

He shook his head as his cock sprung free from the trousers that fell to the floor.

I instinctively crept backwards when he got on the mattress and began stalking towards me, adrenaline rushing through my veins, but he was quick, grabbing my leg, pulling me towards him, holding onto me with a strength I hadn’t felt from him before.

It hit me why I needed a safeword tonight; he was done holding back. Instead it was up to me when I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t you?” His hands busied themselves with undoing my jeans as I fumbled for words, not sure what to answer considering the attraction I felt for Mat. My hands reached for his in an attempt to slow us down, but he slapped them away. My vision had adjusted enough to the darkness that I could see the anger crystal clear in Oli’s eyes; he was fuming, but also clearly in agony, overcome with jealousy.

All I could do was open and close my mouth, speechless, as he peeled my jeans off of me.

“What is it, love? You want my blessing to fuck my best friend?” The jeans were thrown with the same intensity as all the other garments, the close proximity of the rage flooding me with yet another rush of adrenaline.

I shook my head, “N-no.”

His eyes fell to the underwear I was still wearing after my date with Mat. I had completely forgotten to take them off before coming over, being too busy panicking over talking to Oli about everything that’s happened the last 24 hours.

He must have seen the panic in my eyes, his gaze growing even darker as he yanked them off of me.

“You shouldn’t have told me any of this.” He muttered as he spread my legs, crawling between them, crawling on top of me.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered as his hair tickled my face, the sex I was trying to postpone having become imminent as I knew I couldn’t bring myself to actually stop it. His otherwise hazel eyes like blue flames in the moonlit room, only inches from mine, both intense with emotion yet somehow dead and void of them at the same time.

“Shut up, Alice.” Is all he said before he pushed into me carelessly, painfully, making me cry out as he buried himself inside me deep enough that our hips connected in one hard thrust.

My world was spinning, my heart racing, and my breath catching, but through the cloud of overwhelming sensations I could hear his uneven breaths joining mine, feel the heat from the puffs of air leaving his mouth against my shoulder, through the mesh fabric of my crop top as his head had fallen forward, his soft locks pushing into my face, obscuring some of my vision.

Fleetingly I wondered if whatever magic scent he always emitted came from a hair product, as I was suddenly flooded by it, my nerves inexplicitly soothed by the calming aroma.

But considering the situation, this was not the time for settled nerves, made very clear by the hand that appeared on my collarbone, holding me firmly, possessively, in place as he pushed himself up, staring intensely at me under heavy eyelids.

The hand holding me in place followed the curve of my neck to my shoulder, the corners of his lips twisting into a sadistic smile as his grip tightened, pushing me down harder onto his cock, effectively pinning me against him.

Excitement and fear exploded in my chest as I realised I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to, knowing he wants to hurt me, torture me, and the only way out of this is one single word in the entire English language.

With that knowledge I couldn’t help but feel curiosity, making me want to explore my options, to try and escape just to see what would happen.

“Get off me.” I whispered shyly, testing the waters.

He huffed out a laugh that made his dick tense inside me, amused by my pathetic attempt, followed by his less busy hand grabbing the hem of my top along with my bra, and yanking it upwards to free one of my breasts with a bounce.

I yelped, still not accustomed to him using his full strength while handling me.

“Stop.” I said with a bit more authority.

But he completely ignored it, instead he wrapped his fingers around my nipple, causing my eyes to widen, knowing how sensitive my nipples are, knowing how easy it is to inflict pain upon them.

“Wait, no, wait–”

“This will hurt.” He said with a massive grin before his fingers dug into my shoulder even more, and he pinched my nipple, twisting it as he went.

I screamed, trying to push him off of me but he was immovable. I could hear him laughing as the searing pain shot through me like lightning.

“No, no, no, no, please!” I begged, trying to materialise the word that he told me to use if I needed him to ease up, and thankfully it came to me quickly, “Pink, pink, piiiink!”

While the tension on my nipple eased at the word, he was still pinching it agonisingly hard.

“Is that it, is that all you can take?” He asked, mockingly. As I looked up at his gleeful eyes, glowing with a depraved excitement, I felt the delicious high rush over me, the wonderful aftermath of having him inflict pain on me, the sweet release I’ve been craving for hours.

“Disappointing.” He added, but he didn’t seem disappointed, no, he seemed like he was having the time of his life figuring out my limits with his throbbing cock buried deep inside me, my legs folded, spread uncomfortably wide to accommodate the way he sat between them, keeping me in place, preventing me from wriggling out of his grasp.

I released a sigh as he let go of my nipple in order to spit in his hand, but it returned to pinching immediately, this time the added wetness causing a burning sensation on the very sore flesh there. His eyelids grew heavier along with his breathing as he watched my face twist in pain. I inhaled sharply as he applied further pressure, his length inside me periodically twitching, tensing, throbbing, letting me know how much he was getting off on this despite not actually fucking me yet.

“Let’s try again, shall we?”

My eyes widened as his grin turned sinister once more. 

While he didn’t pinch and twist with as much strength as before, I still screamed. I tried to pull his hand off of me, I clawed and shoved at him, but nothing worked, he just laughed as I writhed on his cock from all my thrashing around. Yet I was intent on not using the safeword, or telling him to ease up. Instead I wanted to fight him in earnest, to push myself, to push him, to see where both our limits actually are.

It wasn’t until I dug my nails into his arm so deep that I might have drawn blood that he stopped pinching me, only to slap me across my face, my head snapping to the side from the impact. My hand instinctively reached for my burning cheek but he slapped that away too before grabbing my chin to yank me back into his vision.

I was expecting to see rage on him, but was instead met with glazed over, hungry eyes that looked like they were about to eat me alive as he was hovering over me again, close to my face.

His grip on me changed, shifted, taking hold of my hip as his other hand pushed behind my neck to hold my head still, keeping his intense eyes on mine as he started moving inside me.

So many parts of me were stinging and burning, making me feel high as a kite while the waves of pleasure rushed me with each pounding thrust. 

My moans came heavy, louder than usual.

Suddenly he held me closer against him, rolling onto his back, leaving me to sit on top of him, straddling him. The hand on my neck lacing into my hair, pulling me in for a desperate kiss that nearly brought the tears back to my eyes, the fingers that had been digging into my hips caressed over the sore skin of my ass that he’d been working on while carrying me from the rooftop. 

I flinched from the burning touch.

He pulled my head away from his lips to hold me at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. I looked down at the man inside me, below me, a confusing mix of anger and wonder emitting from him as he studied my features. His lips parted, panting, glistening from our kiss. Burning eyes and wild hair painting dark swirls on the light pillow underneath him.

The fiery eyes turned dark again right before more pain was inflicted on my ass. A loud slap echoed through the room, only filled with our laboured breathing a moment ago, now filled with my cries of pain as I fumbled to keep my weight on my arms so I wouldn’t just be held up by my hair.

The fingers on my behind dug into the soft, extremely sore skin there, clutching my cheek in order to move me on him. I felt an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure that nearly made me give in; nearly made me tell him to ease up on me, or even consider saying the safeword. My whimpers telling the story of my emotions to perfection, I could barely distinguish myself whether the sounds spilling from my mouth were that of ecstasy or agony.

Meanwhile the lazy, sinister smile on Oli was conveying that this is exactly how he wanted me.

An even louder slap echoed all around us and I heard a strangled moan leave me.

“P-pink.” I whispered, stuttered, as he laughed at my suffering, digging his nails back into me, moving me on him faster as I struggled to keep my weight on my shaking arms. Wave upon wave of pleasure washed over me as the adrenaline from the pain filled me, the cock inside me was hitting all the right spots from this angle, my clit grinding on his pubic bone with each movement.

“I used to daydream about this, about torturing you,” His words came so deep he sounded demonic, “your flushed, tear stained cheeks.”

Another slap, a bit lighter this time, but I still produced a similar moan, the skin so sore I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sit tomorrow. Instantly more waves of pleasure came as the immediate pain subsided.

His words made me realise I could feel the warm liquid run down my face, I hadn’t noticed I’d started crying again. As with everything else, I couldn’t tell if it was from bliss or distress, or maybe simply from being overwhelmed, but I could feel my orgasm build, and build because of the same emotion that had caused it.

“You’re stunning like this.” Another slap, he let go of my hair this time, letting me fall forward onto him, onto his warm, ink covered chest, “My perfect whore.” He said into my hair as my moans came louder, faster, matching how he was moving me on him.

“Does it feel good, love?”

Slap.

I trembled, my moans and whimpers coming broken with my hitching breaths.

“Y–yes.” I answered once the majority of the stinging sensation settled.

I realised he was also shaking as he ground me down on him harder, in longer strokes.

Slap.

This time he groaned alongside my cries.

“Are you close?” From the way he asked it, I assumed he was close as well.

“Very.” I whimpered.

His fingers shoved back into my hair, pulling me back into his vision. His eyes glazed over, studying me with a pained expression, baring his teeth slightly as he started pumping me harder.

Slap.

Euphoria shifted his features as I cried out in pain, but as soon as the worst of it faded I felt myself melt against him, my climax so close I could taste it.

He must have seen it on me because his eyes widened with excitement, and right as my orgasm started he threw me off of him. I landed with a thud on the mattress next to him, disoriented and empty.

“No– wait, p-please–” I reached for my pussy to try and salvage what was left of my orgasm, so it wouldn’t be completely ruined, but he was already there, grabbing my wrist as his other hand held my chin.

For a moment I felt as if Oli was no longer here when I looked up at the man above me, as if he’d been replaced by some vicious animal intent on tearing me apart, the vision so shocking I abandoned any attempts to save my climax.

“On the floor.” He said with an eerie calmness, letting go of me entirely, “kneel.”

I instantly obeyed, my limbs feeling like jelly as I fumbled to get on my knees for him.

He shuffled, positioning himself to sit at the end of the bed, fingers shoving back into my hair as he worked his cock over my face.

“The only way you get to cum tonight, is if you say the safeword.” He watched me frown as he said it, feeling torn, wanting the cum. But I had made it this far without tapping out, enjoying his games, and I didn’t want to stop now, “Otherwise, I will make sure you don’t touch yourself until you fall asleep.” The corners of his panting mouth tugged as he implied that I’d sleep here.

An involuntary smile bloomed on my lips through my hazy state. 

Which settled it, I wasn’t going to have an orgasm tonight.

“Pinch your nipple for me, love. Let me watch you suffer a bit more.” His words came ragged, clearly close to the edge.

I did as he requested, pinching significantly, much less than he had, suddenly scared of the pain when it was self inflicted.

“Harder.” He growled.

I don’t know if it was his aggression, the pain, or the ruined orgasm, but my core began throbbing deeply as I applied more pressure to my nipple, his eyes glazing over, his movements coming jerky as I whimpered.

“Open your mouth.” He breathed, the cum already spilling from his length as my lips parted for him.

He pushed my head down on him, the cum threatening to make me gag as he shot down my throat, releasing the pressure just in time to avoid it. With both his hands in my hair, holding me passionately as he moaned, the delectable liquid filling my mouth with each shot, his cock tensing in waves against my tongue, driving me wild.

When he was done he released me and I collapsed to the floor, swallowing his load.

The sound of both our heavy breaths filling the air. My gaze settled on him, his eyes towards the ceiling, his cock still bobbing as his head came back up, his hair shifting, falling over his face in order to look down on me with a relaxed grin.

He looked so happy, content.

Sadly it only lasted a moment, his features twisting to something more bitter as he watched me on the floor, as if he sobered up, remembering why we were doing this in the first place.

I watched him get up, walk over to his luggage in the corner and crouch down before it. I sat up, suddenly uncomfortable, the thick sexual tension having left the air much quicker than usual. The sound of a lighter could be heard as he stood back up, puffs of smoke surrounding him while he walked back to the bed, throwing himself onto the mattress. I could smell the familiar scent of cigarette smoke as he walked past me, having smoked for a long time and only quitting a couple of years ago.

“Come here, love.” His words were tender, loving.

I pushed myself up on my unsteady legs, my aching body struggling to stay upright. 

Deciding to slip out of my mangled top and bra before getting into bed with him, I nearly lost balance, but I successfully completed my task and made it the to the bed where Oli proceeded to nestle me up against him, kissing the top of my head as I wrapped my arm around his chest.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t.” He responded casually, “Not anymore, just when I’m tense.”

He took another long drag and I watched the ember turn bright orange in his hand before he exhaled, releasing a cloud that was tinted blue with the rest of the room.

I reached out and took the cigarette off of him, inhaling deeply, also feeling rather tense.

“I won’t see Mat anymore.” I said after I handed the cigarette back to him.

He huffed out a breath, shaking his head, “No, I’m not doing that again, I’ve seen how that ends. Do whatever it is you need to do so you can be sure who you want.”

Realisation hit me like a ton of bricks.

I pushed myself up on my elbow to look at him.

“When you said your ex cheated with an old friend…”

“Was wondering if you’d ever piece that together,” He gave me a dejected smile, “Guess I made it a bit obvious just now though, didn’t I?”

I stared at him, confused, wondering why he remained such close friends with Mat after what happened, after his ex had cheated with him.

My forehead knotted into a frown as I searched for the words to ask for clarification, to learn more, but I didn’t know how to approach the delicate topic.

“Why are you still friends with him?”

Such a dumb question, phrased so poorly, so bluntly. I wish I could take it back, but my brain clearly didn’t work after the sex we just had.

It was his turn to frown.

“I mean– beyond the obvious, I know you’re in a band together–” I continued before he cut me off.

“Honestly Alice, it’s not that bloody simple is it?” He said with a sigh, moreso defeated sounding than annoyed. Taking one last drag off the cigarette, he reached over to the nightstand and dropped it into the glass of water resting there, putting the ember out with a hissing noise.

His head hit the pillow again with yet another sigh, sad eyes meeting mine.

“Her name was Fay.”

While I really wanted to hear this story, I didn’t want to contribute to more distress tonight, not after we already had sex – not after we’d already done the thing that should help ease our suffering.

“Oli, you don’t have to–”

“Would you rather not know?” A genuine question, asked calmly, seriously.

“I, I do, a lot actually, but–”

“Then let me tell you.” There was a pained confusion on his features as he spoke the gentle words, pleading to let him vocalise his thoughts to me. 

My frown melted away.

“Okay.” I answered softly.

“Her name was Fay.” He started his story again, “She was a good friend of Mat for years. I always enjoyed her company – very wild spirited, would always get us into trouble – but I was never close with her… Well, not until Mat started dating her, and suddenly she was always around.” He laughed nervously, his eyes roaming towards the ceiling as he continued speaking, “I felt like a piece of shit, I would stay up late with her a lot of nights, just chatting each other's ears off, I didn’t even realise I was falling for her until it was too late.”

His arm around me held me closer, caressing me lovingly as he was lost in telling his story.

“It wasn’t unusual though, we’d fallen for each other's girls so many times over the years we pretty much had a protocol for it. As soon as I realised, I told Mat, and we both knew it just meant I should stop hanging out with her alone. Which I did.”

He sighed deeply, “Problem is, Fay does whatever the fuck she wants. She sussed out pretty quickly that I had feelings for her, confronted me, told me she felt the same, told me she’d planned to break up with Mat because of it.”

Glowing eyes shot back to mine, “Not a nice feeling that, so fucking torn between being happy that she felt the same for me, but knowing I can’t allow myself to be with her – also knowing that I’m the only reason they’re breaking up. It’s just a shit show.”

Shaking his head his gaze returned to the ceiling, “Next day Mat told me they broke up, and to my surprise he practically begged me to date her, telling me that we both deserved to be happy, that he’ll get over it, that I was always the better match for Fay anyway. I thought it was nonsense, the proclamations of a heartbroken man, feeling down on himself. I didn’t even consider it until months later when Mat had managed to mend his friendship with her, and everything seemed alright with him again. Then it suddenly got too tempting. In hindsight I should never have acted on it, but we ended up dating for almost a year… I was gonna ask her to marry me. It wasn’t until right before it all blew up that Mat came to me, telling me he fucked up, confessing the feelings for her had resurfaced, telling me she’d been flirting with him too. The jealous twat I am, I instantly confronted Fay; she didn’t deny it, she told me she felt blessed for not only having one soulmate, but two… My heart just shattered.”

Oli’s arm around me had tensed up, the gentle caresses having come to a stop.

Vulnerable eyes flickered to mine before he continued, speaking more thoughtfully.

“She stayed with Mat that night, was at a shared accommodation, I actually caught her leaving his room in the early hours of the morning. I’d stayed outside all night, couldn’t be in the same room as her, not after what she told me – I needed some time. I just sat staring at the beach for hours while they fucked I guess.”

My heart ached for him, leaving me intent on not seeing Mat anymore. Leaving a bad taste in my mouth when it came to Mat in general. I couldn’t believe he would sleep with someone his best friend had been dating for so long, and was so committed to, especially so quickly, regardless of their history.

“This is when I learned what a liar Fay was. She’d told Mat that we’d broken up already, that she felt nothing for me, that she regretted leaving him, and so on.”

“But how could he sleep with her without even talking to you first?”

He gave me a guilty smile, “So, there may have been one small detail I left out.”

I squinted at him, “Go on.”

“I may have slept with his ex too.” My eyes widened in surprise as the guilt on his face intensified, “A couple of them actually.”

I felt my features twist into disbelief, “What?”

“To be fair, he’s slept with a fair few of mine as well.”

I was stunned, confused about their entire friendship.

“We’re both lovesick fools who can’t seem to resist the same women a lot of the time, and while most of it was in our teens and early twenties, it’s happened in more recent years too, just very rarely. We made a point of steering clear of it, to prevent more heartache for both of us.”

“Again, why are you two still friends?” I asked, shaking my head, my original, blunt question, suddenly seeming perfectly appropriate.

He let out a long breath, “He’s my best mate, it just always felt like we didn’t want any birds to get between that, despite this shit happening repeatedly. And to be honest with you, Fay was different for many reasons. I’d never felt quite like that for anyone before her. For better and for worse. She had a way of making you get completely lost in the moment when you were with her, you’d buy whatever lies she sold you. So I can’t even blame Mat, if he’s anything like me – which when it comes to these types of things he sure seems to be – I get why he couldn’t turn her down.”

While not being able to relate to his situation at all, a level of understanding began to surface as he explained.

“I’d never seen him so destroyed afterwards though, I think he’d done anything to set it right. He actually had me move in with him for a while, when I relapsed, to look after me. I’ve cried in the arms of that man more than I care to admit.”

Silence fell for a moment as he stared off into space. My hand began mindlessly trailing his chest which seemed to have pulled him out of whatever thought he was preoccupied with, as he inhaled and began caressing my back again.

“Neither of us talked to Fay ever again, haven’t even said her name in each other's company.”

Thoughtful eyes met mine, the moonlight extenuating his features from this angle, highlighting all the contrast the man next to me has to offer; the sweet and gentle eyes, so easy to get lost in, set in a face filled with strong edges, high cheekbones and inkwork, yet framed by wild locks of hair that should make him look messy, rough, but only added a playful charm to him.

I hadn’t realised how intensely I’d been staring at him until he continued speaking.

“Mat’s a good man, we’ve just got a bit of an odd situation between us. If he knew I had feelings for you, I know he’d take a step back, ignore you like the plague probably after everything with Fay.”

He reached out to touch my face, stroking it tenderly before lacing his fingers into my hair, his thumb brushing my cheek with the same softness. His touch was so sweet, treating me as if I was precious in his hands, another stark contrast from earlier. I felt myself melt into his palm, craving his affection, which seemed to happen like clockwork after we had rougher sex.

“Makes things a bit tricky for me, cause I do have feelings for you.” The words were spoken under his breath, softly, lovingly. 

I swallowed, reminded of the high stakes of the situation.

“But if you end up with me I can’t be worrying about you and Mat, I can’t do that again. Which is why I just want you to get whatever you need out of your system when it comes to Mat. You’re clearly interested in him. If it’s him you’d rather be with, I don’t want to start anything proper with you.”

While I couldn’t deny that I was drawn to Mat in a multitude of ways, I already knew how I felt about the man next to me.

“That’s fair, but I already have feelings for you.”

He sucked on his teeth for a second, “So did Fay.”

“I’m not Fay.” I returned quickly.

The smile he gave me was sombre, “No, you’re not, in almost all ways you’re her polar opposite actually – except for the fact that it’s incredibly easy to get lost in the moment with you.”

Understanding the implication of his statement, I was momentarily upset by the fact that he was suggesting I’d be the type of person who cheats, but considering Oli’s history, I quickly pushed that thought aside, knowing his reasons for feeling that way had nothing to do with me.

“So you want me to… explore things with Mat?”

The tension that washed over Oli at my question was almost tangible, “For the sanity and wellbeing of all three of us, I don’t want to know what you two get up to – but please, Alice, if you decide you’re ready to become mine, then be mine.”

It was impossible to do anything but agree with Oli whenever he gave me those pleading eyes.

“Okay.” I whispered before looking away, feeling silly for asking my next question, “Can I still spend the night?”

The tension deflated from him, “Please do.”

Laying my head back on his shoulder, he immediately, eagerly, nestled me back into him, like he craved the intimacy from it just as much as I did. My limbs tangled with his, his warm and loving embrace giving me more comfort than anything I could imagine, making me feel foolish for even contemplating anything with Mat.

But considering the circumstances, it might be even more foolish of me to disregard him entirely, leaving a door open for the future.

Leaving me to wonder what could have been.

“You were incredible tonight.” He whispered into my hair before pressing his cheek to the top of my head.

Warmth spread in my chest, my lips curving into a smile, “Yeah?” “Yeah. I love the way you fought me, you’re stronger than you look.”

I huffed out a small laugh, “Oh please, I couldn’t budge you.”

“You weren’t that far off you know, and my arm’s gonna be stinging for a while.”

Knowing I was more than likely quite far off, I still enjoyed how he indulged me.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sit tomorrow.” I retorted teasingly.

I felt his features shift against my head, and from the way he spoke I could tell he was also smiling, “You love it though, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

A comfortable silence fell as I listened to his heartbeat, his steady breathing tickling my forehead. My mind wandered back to the rooftop, regret filling me, wishing I could have just enjoyed the date with him like a normal person.

“I’m sorry for ruining our date, the rooftop… No one’s ever done anything so romantic for me.”

“Not to try and bribe you or anything, but we could have a lot of nights like that, love.”

Half of me wanted that future so badly it ached, yet the other half was sounding the alarm bells, ready to run for the hills at the idea of being in another committed relationship. I knew it was an irrational fear, but I still couldn’t seem to shake the panic that came with thoughts of a future with someone.

Probably because someone very important failed to commit to me.

“You know, I also used to love watching the stars.”

His roaming hand stilled on my arm, “Used to?”

“Yeah. Of course it looked nothing like this,” I said as I gazed out the window, at the starlit night, “I was lucky if I could see a handful of them even when it was clear. But my dad and I would often lay on the grass in our back garden on a late evening, before I lost him.”

“I’m sorry, Alice. How old were you when he died?”

“Oh, he’s not dead. He just moved.”

“Oh.” He responded, clearly confused.

“He went to start a new family on the other side of the country when I was ten. It was like he never had me. I didn’t even get a card on my next birthday. Mum said he’d sent one, that it would be in the post any day now, but it never came. So, I haven’t talked to him since I was 14, partly because I decided I couldn’t stand being progressively forgotten anymore.”

“Fucking hell, what a prick.”

His sudden blunt words caused me to break out into laughter.

He joined with an awkward chuckle, “I’m sorry, but that’s awful though. Can I ask something?”

Slight unease crept in, already feeling vulnerable from sharing such a sore part of my past, but I wanted to push myself, to open up to him like he’d opened up for me.

“Sure.”

“Is that where the commitment issues come from?”

“I think so.” My words came softly, “I’ve only ever been in one long term relationship.”

There was a pause before he spoke, making me wonder what he was thinking, what conclusions he was coming to about me, “I see, and you said you didn’t even like him – so what made him special enough to be the only one?”

I felt myself fighting the urge to squirm, “I guess the fact that he wasn’t special at all.”

“Ah,” He started, before echoing my words that he practically forced out of me earlier in the week, “Because you’re scared of having something worth losing.”

Bingo.

“Yeah, which is why everything was so simple with him.”

Another silence fell before he spoke softly, “Am I special to you?”

I tried to push the words out, but it took me a while. I could feel him tensing beneath me, his heart rate speeding up.

“You are.” I whispered after a long moment.

More time passed, both of us clearly raking things over in our mind.

“I can’t decide if that’s wonderful or horrible.” He finally responded.

“Me neither.”

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