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#I don’t even wanna know how many words this actually is but all this stuff has been gnawing at my brain for a while now
jemmo · 1 year
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ive been thinking a lot about age in the eighth sense, in terms of age gap and the roles of hyung and sunbae and dongsaeng and the behaviours they entail, and the label of the country mouse, and how, with the events of the end of ep 6, they are paralleling jihyun against jaewon’s younger brother with the accident and how I think there’s a crux at the heart of this that is jaewon needing to see jihyun as not his younger brother. and i get that’s weird and kinda yucky considering the nature of the relationship between the two, it’d be very weird if jaewon simply thought of jihyun as a stand in for his familial little brother, but I don’t think it’s like that, it’s not as simple as that.
I think it’s very clear jaewon misses his little brother, plain and simple. and perhaps that extends into missing having a little brother figure in his life, and when I say little brother, I don’t mean familial. that’s why that initial ‘dongsaeng’ messed with our heads in the first place, bc it can be familial and not, so here, and from now on, I mean not. this is not weird incest territory, don’t worry. I think he misses having someone younger, someone to look after. he misses being an older brother. maybe that’s why he so quickly befriends jihyun. attraction aside, maybe he wants someone to care for, and a freshman, a country mouse that knows nothing of the city, being his friend, teaching him city life and uni life, that’s the kind of thing you’d do with a younger brother, and that’s an experience he’s missed. and I think a sense of responsibility also plays into this, bc that’s probably something he feels he lacks after losing his brother. he was supposed to be responsible, supposed to look after him but he couldn’t, and so now he wants to feel like he can be that responsible hyung, he can look after someone, not so much to redeem himself or prove something, but more for himself, to fill an emptiness by fulfilling that role. idk, I don’t think this is something he does consciously, but his body language, his constant touching and how it’s guiding and comforting, at first I thought it was just a desire to touch and filtered through this acceptable closeness between men, especially from someone older. but now i think there is a sense of actual brotherly-ness to it, which I think adds to this confusing want to be close jaewon has that to some degree comes from jihyun filling that younger brother space jaewon has had empty for so long. again, i think people are tentative to approach this topic bc it does get into weird territory, but I think this whole thing is more… how do I say… it’s like how people say you get with someone like your parents, like how often is the phrase “she reminds me of your mom” said between a father and son in movies and tv. it’s not that you want to date your mom, it’s more that you like and value traits that are similar, they bring you comfort bc you’ve literally been raised to be comfortable around someone like that. it’s not incestuous. and I think a similar thing is happening here, even though I don’t think it’s a driving force, I think it’s part of it. which is important, and I like, bc of how this theme progresses.
as the show continues, we see jaewon’s mask slip more and more, and we see jihyun become bolder, which are two important factors that lead into what I think jaewon ultimately needs to realize. jihyun is not his little brother, and he needs to separate the two. there is this obvious path leading from ep 6 where jaewon thinks jihyun’s accident is his little brother all over again and he regresses and distances himself and blames himself, but what he needs to see is that the accident is different. he needs separation. and that comes in the form of jihyun, jihyun becoming bolder and more confident and forthcoming and, most importantly, responsible. at the end of the day, he is not a child, and in that ocean he is responsible for himself just as much, if not more, than jaewon is. he goes into that ocean knowing he’s not the best swimmer and still does it. is he swept up by jaewon and emotions and the kind of heightened vibe of the day? yes. but is it still his decision? yes, and it’s a bit reckless. he can say no to jaewon when he offers to surf and catch the big waves instead of the safety of the shallows where they were before. you’ve seen him bite back and sass and poke and joke with jaewon before, he is not a cowering little mouse (more on that in a sec), and he still agrees, so he has to take responsibility. maybe jaewon was responsible for his little brother but he’s not responsible for jihyun, an adult with their own mind. and jaewon seeing that, that he can’t blame himself when he’s not responsible for anyone here, might just be the thing that helps him get out of that mindset.
and it’s not like jihyun is adverse to this. If anything, I think in this next ep we will hear jihyun blame himself, accept the fact that what he did was maybe a bit stupid and he should’ve thought first. bc we see time and time again jihyun not wanting to be that innocent, naive country mouse. just think about how much he refutes it time and time again, like in that library scene. he doesn’t want to be that person. that’s why he came to the city. It’s why he’s trying new things and being brave, he wants to grow up and be responsible. and I love that this becomes almost a reversal of the classic hyung and dongsaeng roles in later eps, as jihyun becomes more confident while jaewon regresses into himself. jaewon shows his weaker side and jihyun, the younger, looks after him instead. look at ep 6, how he initiates both conversation and physical contact, something we saw jaewon do in earlier eps. I love it both in terms of this theme but also just for romance sake. as an extension of these roles, you expect the older to make the moves and such, but I love that there are equal moments in this show that jaewon gets to be the one getting hit on, be it the scene where jihyun teaches him to draw or calls him cute when he’s drunk. you’d so typically expect to see a hyung doing those things to someone younger, but it shows equality in their relationship that counters those stereotypes in the simple and subtlest ways and I adore it.
this show has a strong theme overall of what’s expected vs how people actually are, be it from drinking etiquette to romance, but just like in that first scene with jihyun’s bar owner, one thing may be expected, but what people actually want, what makes people comfortable, can be something else. and by jihyun so simply not conforming to the country mouse persona initially put on him in such simple but outright ways, he acts as such a great challenge to jaewon, who wears his mask of expectation so frequently. it may be what’s expected, but have you ever considered that it’s not what people actually want? that they might actually want the real you, and all the so-called imperfection of it? bc when does that mask stop being a burden and start being a safety blanket, that shields you from the pain of actually being hurt in a genuine relationship, that hurts more than the pain of pretending. jaewon says over and over again that he’s tired of wearing the mask, but the mask is, ultimately, self inflicted, and as much as you can blame society and parents for expecting things from him, there’s a point when you become an adult where you get to decide for yourself who you are. again, he said it himself, just as he was afraid to leave the safety of the military, he’s afraid to leave the safety of uni, the bubble where what’s expected is clearly defined and can be performed. after that, the rules aren’t as clear. so much more of it depends on you. it’s the process of becoming an adult, of growing up. it’s a process jihyun is on, but jaewon, to be at least, seems further behind in. maybe bc he never got the chance at a fresh start like jihyun and is trapped by preconceived notions the people around him have of him by knowing him for years. maybe it’s bc of the loss of his little brother, and feeling trapped in that time, and a fear of growing up out of that person he was when his brother was there. maybe it’s bc he still feels trapped under his parents thumb, bc despite becoming an adult, you can never really be free of your parents.
I said this before, but it’s just like how they both said they’re jealous of each other, but what they’re jealous of is a preconceived notion of youth and age, not-knowing and knowing, naivety and experience, when again they don’t match these stereotypes. jihyun is not naive, and jaewon doesn’t know everything. Life experience is not all it’s cracked up to be bc it can’t all be good, but knowing nothing isn’t the bliss ignorance is often expressed to be. I’ve rambled on and waxed pathetically poetic long enough about these two to be embarrassing, but as a show that actually involves an age gap, and neither hides away from it nor exploits it for it’s played up romantic tropes, I adore that they let this factor naturally play into the bigger story being told, bc age actually means nothing here, and more than anything, jihyun and jaewon strive to be equals to each other, in their world void of expectations.
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Free use with Steve
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kinktober masterlist!!
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: roomate!steve, free use agreement (fully consensual), an allusion to sex, hair pulling, degradation, a little bit of bondage, penetrative sex, edging
a/n: shoutout to the loml @ddejavvu for helping me out with some characterization!! dedicating this one to her as 1/2 of her birthday present!! <3
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When I had first seen Steve’s ad for a roommate, I hadn’t paid any mind to the lack of a rent price in the ad. I figured he would let me know if he actually wanted me to move in. So after he showed me around and we talked for a bit about all the major stuff, I asked about it. And he gave the most intriguing answer I’ve ever heard.
“Well, I’m gonna offer you two options. You could pay half of the rent, so about $900 a month or…you could-could pay nothing.” This option seems to make him nervous, as he shifts slightly in his seat.
“Pay nothing?”
“See, that comes with a catch. If you choose to pay nothing then I would cover you and…you would have to return the favour.” A hint of red colours his cheeks. While I admit it suits him, it gives me a hint as to where this conversation is going.
“And how would I do that?”
“By being a-available at all times.” He smiles sheepishly and fiddles with his hoodie strings
“Available for…what exactly?”
“Sex.” When he says it I think I’ve misheard him. But…he couldn’t have said anything else. He takes my staring as a cue to explain further.
“Well…that sounds bad. You don’t have to have sex with me, especially not right away. And you’re perfectly welcome to pay your half of the rent and completely forget about this. But I like you. And my job is…pretty stressful. So if you would be okay with me relieving that stress with you, I’d be happy to cover the full rent.” He smiles softly and I take a second to process all this. I mean, I did think he was really cute. And definitely my type.
Also, I didn’t have many other options for an apartment. This place was in a good neighbourhood, I had my own bathroom, a nice kitchen, and plenty of natural light. I would be crazy to give that up. And I would be even crazier to give up living rent-free in exchange for having occasional sex with my very hot roommate.
“You know what? Sure. You’ve got a deal, Harrington. Just don’t be a perv.” His laugh is boyish, grinning as he sips his water.
“You’ve got my word.”
So, I moved in a week later. Frankly, it was a great deal. Steve was incredibly sweet and we ended up spending a lot of time together. Which of course, had its perks.
“Holy shit,” I whisper into the hot room, as Steve collapses next to me, panting.
“Holy shit is right. I figured it would take at least another month before we hooked up.” He smiles at me and I can’t help but return it.
“I really thought the only times we would do anything would be whenever you wanna take your stress out on me,” I say as he tugs me close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.
“Well, I had to give you a little preview of what you’re signing up for. Would hate to condemn you to mediocre sex.” He chuckles and I smile up at him.
“I don’t think anything about you is mediocre, Steve Harrington.”
After that, he really took advantage of our agreement. He started off slow, wandering hands when I was doing the dishes, gently groping me if I was near, a lewd comment every once in a while. Honestly, I liked it. It made me feel so wanted. I found myself craving every glance, comment, and touch.
When he finally upped the ante, bending me over the counter one night after dinner to fuck me with almost no warning, it was practically a dream come true.
And boy did Steve know it.
“Fucking stupid motherfuckers.” I hear Steve cursing under his breath as he slams the front door behind him. I pause my movie, turning to look at him. He’s toeing his shoes off, furiously tugging at his tie. I know how much he hated the thing. It represented everything he hated while working at his dad’s firm.
“Bad day?” I question, finally gaining his attention. The second his eyes focus on me, they darken.
“Mhm. Very…stressful.” He crosses the room quickly. His hand gently pushes my hair away from my face before gripping it tightly. Steve knows to grab at the base of the hairs, so it doesn’t hurt as much but I still wince.
“I-I can help with that?” I peer up at him and he breaks for a second, smiling fondly.
“You’re such a good girl…turn around?” He grips the fabric of his tie in his hands, making me grin and turn. The second I’m situated, he smacks me with it. It barely stings, but the surprise makes me yelp.
“Be quiet. Don’t wanna hear you.” He grips my wrists in one hand, wrapping his tie around them. This was not a new thing, so I don’t squirm. Steve enjoyed having my hands bound while he used me.
I try not to move as he tugs my pyjama pants down just enough to expose my ass. Luckily for him, it was laundry night so I had forgone panties.
“Such a slut.” He mumbles, ever a fan of degradation. His hand runs over the fat of my ass, squeezing the flesh appreciatively. He pulls away to undo his pants, the metal of his belt buckle clicking as he drops the leather to the floor. A small part of me is disappointed. I’d been hoping he’d spank me at least a few times. It always hurt so well.
I feel the head of his cock line up with my entrance and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning.
“Fucking hell…” He curses as he starts pushing in. He goes slower than normal, maybe trying to make this last extra long. Steve was always a big fan of spending hours bringing both of us to the edge, just to stop so that we could do it all over again.
“Please…” I whisper before I can think. He stops and I tense, ready for him to spank me hard.
“I told you to be fucking quiet.” Before I can apologize, he slams into me. I gasp, barely able to catch my breath as he starts pounding into me.
“S-such a stupid toy.” He moans softly, nails digging into me. Moans continue to slip out of me as the head of his cock slams into that spot that makes me go crazy. He doesn’t bother reprimanding though, focusing on chasing his release.
“This pussy always feels so fucking good.” He groans. I can feel my orgasm building, the coil tightening with every deep thrust. I know Steve is on the edge, so I have to cum before he does. No way does he spend extra time on me now that I made noise.
“Shit!” He curses and I feel him cum. As his thrusts slow, my orgasm ebbs away. I whine weakly but he just chuckles and pulls out slowly. Cum slowly leaks out of me and runs down my thighs as Steve leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Don’t you know? Toys don’t get to cum.”
hope you enjoyed!!
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scudevils · 7 days
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vienna — CL16
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: smut, some sad stuff, a prequel to “when it rains it pours”, swearing, just finished this after starting it a whileeeeee ago, google translated french (soz), this is old (as in mid 2023 old), not a good representation of a relationship, not proofread!
synopsis: what really happened the night you bumped into charles at the monaco grand prix [6.0k]
a/n: im backkkk bitches!! jk i don’t wanna jinx myself but who woulda thought it would a charles fic that got me out of my slump. anyway, please be nice, i haven’t wrote in like 3 months properly 😭😭
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you stayed true to your words, keeping your distance from charles.
you hadn't seen him in months, not since you'd left him in the kitchen that night. you hadn't been temped enough to check how he was doing in his races or where he was in the standings, not once.
and your friends knew better than to tell you, so whilst you could see they were obviously celebrating something, wether it was a win or a podium, you kept yourself away from anything relating to him.
the way he looked at you when you were in the kitchen was still burned into your memory, the smug and almost mocking expression on his face, as if he didn't believe the words that you told him, as if he knew you'd come straight back to him.
you told yourself after that, that you'd be stronger the next time, that you wouldn't give into his glances or taunting looks he gave you. that you were stronger than him and whatever gave me was playing.
although all it took was a win at one of the most iconic circuits on the calendar to break down the walls you'd so carefully built up.
you'd inevitably learned through a mutual friend that charles was a contender in the championship, that ferrari had been having a 'wonder season' with their monegasque golden boy, a miracle was what the media was calling it. a potential to win the championship since they last did in 2007.
monaco was the next race around the corner, the exclusive circuit de monaco one of the hardest to get tickets to, even for the countries natives, although it did help living basically around the corner from it.
whilst you were with charles it had became some what of a tradition to attend monaco with him, every year of his career, you were with him for your home race. despite the rumours of the curse, wether you being with him was the cause, it never stopped you from going.
you'd ruled out attending this year without a second thought, letting your friends know that too, pierre being the one to offer your entire friend group paddock passes for the three days.
it took days of your friends grovelling, your many no's and them constantly assuring you that the thousands of people attending would be the ones taking over much of charles' attention, before you finally gave in and agreed.
after all he was the home boy, everyone loved him, men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him, and he revelled in knowing that.
monaco had a special way of bringing out the other side of you, the partying side that never seemed to be able to sit down or the side of you that made the bad decisions, that wouldn't listen to anyone unless they were putting a drink in your hand.
it was a 50/50 coin toss on which one people would get.
the first two days had gone by in a blink of an eye, everything running just as smoothly as your friends had promised and you were actually having fun, the most shocking thing of all.
you had somehow managed to avoid him the entire weekend, and you were about to go three for three when charles had found you watching over the alpine mechanics as they worked on the final preparations of the race day car.
it was obvious to anyone he had came around looking for pierre, although he couldn't say that he was disappointed to see you instead. "was wondering where my number one supporter was," his voice was like nails on a chalkboard for you, a graining sound that wouldn't leave your head and you hated how much you missed it. you chose not to acknowledge him as he spoke, continuing to look at the mechanics and even pretending to understand the data on the screen. "shame you're not in the ferrari garage, we used to have so much fun in there."
"fuck you, charles." standing up from the chair, you moved to walk past him the ferrari driver blocking the way as he tilted his head down towards you. he opened his mouth to say something before an engineer from the ferrari garage found him, needing him for something with the car.
charles removed the cap from his head, placing it on yours, and it felt so right that you wanted to shoot yourself for how much you loved it, he laughed lightly at how quick you were to take it off again. "i'll find you after the race."
just as you'd anticipated, the race too wasn't too action filled, but you couldn't lie and say you were paying it all your attention, the rare occurrence of a red bull strategy error allowing the ferrari's a larger gap to a 1-2. a mclaren crashing into the barrier had brought out a safety car with just under 10 laps to go.
with only 5 laps, it was inevitable who the winner was, the winner who was about to win the monaco grand prix, and break his home race curse in one go.
fans and employees alike gather around the podium, the winning car followed by second and third place displayed in front of them. the drivers came out one by one, celebrate with their teams because after all they're on the podium of the most presidential grand prix, each of them standing at their designated step before charles, accompanied by the cheers of his home crowd, took the top step.
soon they were each awarded their trophies before the monegasque anthem rung out to the crowd. charles stood proud as he took everything in, he had beat the curse and won at his home track.
you watched from afar with your friends mixed in with the alpine engineers and other workers, trying to push down the proud feeling you have bubbling inside of you. each celebrated as if their own team won, it seemed that truly everyone had a soft spot for the ferrari man.
with the majority of celebrations over the fans began to leave the track, all of you going back to your apartments to get ready for what inevitably was going to be a long night of celebration.
you couldn't help the memories flashing in your head of the pictures shown to you just over two years ago, charles' hand on the brunette girls hip as his mouth was on hers. a couple others in the background jeering them on as though it was something to celebrate. you hadn't gone out in monaco since, everywhere reminded you of that.
however, you shook the thoughts from your head. tonight, you were going to go out with your friends tonight, get drunk, then end up back in your own bed.
people were spilling out of the clubs onto the street, different songs blaring out of each one. your friends had settled on one you’d been going to since your teens, the purple strobes hitting you as you got in, memories of every bad decision you’d made in there coming back to you, taunting you.
it was just shy of full, people on the dance floor with a drink in their hand as they danced up against someone, spilling whatever filled their glasses. guys sat in booths with girls around them, their company lasting as long as they had money in their wallet.
a drink was quickly placed in your hand, your simple order one that your friends were used to by now. you were in your usual spot, the leather seats still pristine as the day you first sat on them when one of them had spotted pierre in another booths, the frenchman calling you over before making room for all of you.
one drink quickly turned into two, then three before you were both finally tipsy enough to get to the dance floor, this was the side of you that your friends loved to see, fun, carefree, living in the moment. your body pushed up against someone behind you, long gone were the thoughts of the monegasque who’d plagued your life, the feeling of his hands firmly on your hips had you pressing further back.
his grip on you was enough to keep you to close to him, his breath hot on your neck before his lips began to explore your exposed skin, open mouthed kisses littered across your collarbone. leaning into his touch you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing the man closer to you, giving into the feeling.
the alcohol flowing through your veins built up the courage for you to turn to look at him, a small gasp falling from your lips as your eyes met the familiar ones of pierre, looking down at you with his arm wrapped around your waist, unapologetically looking over your body. "you know he'd be mad if he saw us."
you hated that you still let him have this control over you, that with another man wrapped up around you, you still thought about how he felt. despite the noise, pierre could hear your words clearly. his lips continued up your neck from your collarbone, reaching just below your ear, teeth lightly grazing your earlobe. "good thing he isn't here," the frenchman placed a small kiss on the soft skin. "charles doesn't know what he's lost."
every inch of your body shouted to give into him, to be the bad guy and fuck his best friend with no remorse, after all where was his remorse when he’d left you in that kitchen, when he’d been in another womens bed?
but even then, something stopped you from letting yourself fall into pierre's arms, something still held you back. nothing could explain what prompted you to step away from him, offering him a quick apology before going back to the booth, the warmth of his lips a long forgotten feeling.
at that point you hadn't even wanted to continue with the night, ordering one last drink before you told your friends you were ready for an early night, an early night for monaco anyway.
the walk from the club was barely 10 minutes to your apartment, the times when you were thankful to live in a small country. you rounded a corner, mimicking the cars that had been on the track hours prior, feeling your body hit into another's as they quickly apologised.
"are you everywhere?" you groaned seeing who you had bumped into, the very person who you wanted to see least in that moment.
charles rolled his eyes at your comment. "monaco is a small place," he looked behind you waiting to see your friends following suit, frowning slightly when he saw you alone. "where's everyone else?"
“dancing and drunk." you gave him a short answer, moving past him to continue home when you heard his footsteps behind you, cursing under your breath, your patience was running thin. "is there something you need, charles?"
"what kind of gentleman would i be if i let you walk home yourself drunk?" scoffing at his choice of the word gentleman, you started walking away from him, already aware there was no hope of him giving up, you’d learned over the course of your life to just accept he did things at his own accord.
the rest of the walk to your apartment was in an awkward silence, although you could see charles was desperate to say something, the way he’d take a breath as if he was about to speak before holding off, and you’d been so close to screaming at him to just get it out before you saw your complex entrance.
"why did you want to walk me home?" the question had been eating away at you; lingering in your mind the whole time he was besides you, needing to know the answer.
"i told you, i don't like the idea of you walking home by yourself." charles spoke nonchalantly, as if it was a daily occurrence for him, seeing his ex girlfriend who he’d so delicately fucked up.
at his answer you let out a sarcastic laugh. "we both know that’s bullshit charles, you don't care about anyone who's not you," you eyed up the monegasque, searching his usually poetically handsome features for any reaction. "you never did care."
that struck a nerve in charles, his voice raising slightly as he spoke. "of course i fucking cared about you, i wouldn't have kept you around just so i could fuck you."
it took all your self restraint not to slap him in that moment, instead hoping the glare you were giving him was enough to kill him. swinging the door to your complex open you heard it slam behind you, wishing that it closed before he was able to get inside.
unfortunately though, your wishful thinking was just that and you could hear his footsteps just behind yours, echoing against the tiled walls, ringing in your ears like a sirens song. "go celebrate charles."
"i want to talk to you,"
"too bad." you replied, throwing him a bitter smile over your shoulder as the door to your apartment unlocked.
"just give me five minutes." no part of you wanted to turn to look at him, knowing the second you saw his eyes you would cave in. ultimately though, he didn’t even need to look at you before you conceded.
the door was opened just as quickly as it closed, charles' eyes scanning the apartment, which looked just as it had whilst you were together. in fact, you still had the miniature helmet he wore for his first win in spa, and the smaller replica trophy from his monza triumph, keepsakes of his success that you hadn’t bothered to throw away.
"you kept them?" you could hear in his voice he was surprised, charles had half expected to see them in a burning fire before he ever saw them in the same position on your mantelpiece.
your eyes drifted to where he was looking, a lump threatening to grow in your throat, part of you forgetting they were even there since they’d become a constant in tour apartment. "i haven't had a chance to clean, not been at home much recently." you would be lying if you said you weren't missing monaco, after all it was your home, your families home and your friends home.
charles silently nodded at your answer, the apartment falling into a deafening silence as you mulled over what to say next. "so anything new with you? any boyfriends?" he prepared himself for the inevitable 'yes' that you would answer with.
however that never came, shaking your head no as you questioned him with a confused look, still not entirely sure on why he was still standing in your apartment, or why you were even entertaining him.
"really? I didn't-"
“charles, is there something you actually want?" you cut him off abruptly, with him you never did have the same patience you did with others in your life.
"i told you i wanted to talk to you," you responded by raising your eyebrow as if to say 'about?' "pierre told me you went on a date and i wanted-"
you were beyond mad at this point, not only had he essentially followed you home but also had the audacity to ask about a date you had. "fuck off Charles, and tell Pierre he can fuck off too."
“so, did you?”
you owed him nothing, you knew that, he knew it too and yet something inside of you wanted to let his know, still felt obligated to tell him. "yes charles, i went on a date, and i'm sure you'll be happy to know it was shit."
"why? what happened?" he was pushing his luck and he knew it, one wrong word, a question to far and he was asking for a slap from you.
a part of you did want to slap him for continuing to ask these personal questions, he was nothing to you anymore, he wasn't apart of you life and he didn't deserve to be. But the other part, the half you'd hidden away the last few months, wanted him to know.
and unfortunately for you, that part won. "he couldn't get me off, there, happy? now can you fuck off?" you walked towards the door of your apartment, about to hold it open when you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist.
before you could think your back was against the wall, charles' body flush against yours, his eyes finding yours instantly and you hated the way your stomach erupted in butterflies when they did.
you tried to wriggle away, charles' grip on your hands to strong for you to even budge. "poor guy couldn’t get you to come?” you responded with silence, not wanting to give nto his taunting. “told you i'd ruin other men for you, didn't i?" the monegasque couldn't hide hide smirk, watching as you rolled your eyes at the implication.
scoffing at his words, you tried to break free of his grasp again, ultimately stopping when you made no progress, his hand held you own two above your head, his other lingering somewhere across your stomach. "you flatter yourselves charles, really, more than anyone else does."
he rolled his eyes, testing the waters as he leant in to press a singular kiss against your neck, a self satisfied smile spreading across his face when you tilted it back against the cold wall, allowing him for access. "always knew you could never stay away for too long. how long was it last time, 2, 3 months?”
truly, in that moment you hated yourself for giving into his advances, but it didn’t mean that you were going to go quietly. "last i checked you followed me, seems you’re the desperate one."
"and who's the one letting me fuck her after her date couldn't?"
"who said anything about you fucking me?" instead of answering Charles bit down into the skin on your neck, a small whimper falling from your lips, quickly shutting you up, as he soothed over the redness with his tongue.
each movement of his was controlled, calculated, he knew where he was going to touch you, when he was going to, almost as if he knew it was going to happen. something about the way he was slightly smiling when he brought your lips in for a kiss made you short of breath, knocking the air out of your lungs, with your skin tingling at the long forgotten play of intimacy. you melted into his embrace, every sense on high alert.
red flags went off in your head. he cheated on you, and you took him back. it was a viscous cycle where neither seemed strong enough to let go.
it was almost like you were drowning in the moment, in him, sinking so deep you were sure to meet mariana’s trench.
at this, you pulled away, your face was red hot, watching as his smug exterior faltered slightly, his cheeks fading a small hue of redness. your hands rested on his chest, his eyes slightly red from the lack of sleep he must've gotten. "you can't keep doing this, charles, it's not fair." your voice was weak as you spoke, not having the strength to look him in his eyes.
"if it's not fair, then why do you keep coming back to me?" the question was warranted, yet there was a slight part of you, deep inside that section of your heart reserved for him that thought this could work, that you would get back together and all would be right in the world.
you had no real answer for him, nothing you could offer him that you hadn’t said already, and you knew he wasn’t bound to change his mind about you now. "because i want to believe it'll work, even when we know it doesn't." charles' lips were millimetres away from yours, able to feel his breath fanning them as your eyes glanced down at them.
delicately, charles slid his hands over your hips before squeezing the skin, noticing the quick look to his lips he longed to kiss you again, to stay like this for a moment, it was easy like that, to forget he had to make a relationship work outside of kissing you. it was when you decided to look up, the memory of your kiss making your insides warm were you leaning forward to place another tender smooch on his lips, savoring it, may it be your last.
you knew you were making a mistake, but if you truly wanted to let him go, it was one you had to let yourself make. this was on your accords, not his.
charles' touch softened at your quick action, a faint blush forming on his cheeks. "I always knew you were the obsessed one" with the sudden whisper you voiced, he smiled sheep it at you. you held off from smiling back at him, allowing him to take you, holding your hand in his when you walked towards your once shared bedroom, nostalgia feeding the delusions that this wouldn’t be the last time.
the nights in monaco were never quiet, the weekends increasing tenfold and for the first time in years you welcomed the buzzing night life of your home country. his hands on your body were a sensation that brought back memories, good and bad, and you didn't even realize how much you had missed him on you.
for the past few months you’d tried to convince yourself and everyone around you that you didn't want him, that you were fine on your own but charles, as always, saw right through it. "i know you missed me, chérie, it's okay to admit it," he punctuated his words with a kiss on your cheek. "tu m'as manqué." i missed you
he had broken you a long ago and the only person who can pick up your pieces and make you whole again, was him.
"shut up and fuck me, charles." your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head with no protest from him, in an attempt to get him to speed up.
"thought we didn't say anything about fucking you?" you hated the way the cocky smile on his face made a warmth pool in your stomach, turned you on like no one had before or after him.
you ignored his comment, turning round to let charles unzip the dress you had been wearing. his hands danced across the back of your shoulders, goosebumps rising on your warm skin as he slowly unzipped your dress. he leant in, placing a kiss in between your shoulder blades, undoing it fully and watching as the material fell, black against the stark white sheets.
maybe it was symbolic, yin and yang, sinner and saint, darkness and light, charles and you.
underneath you had a matching red set on, the red lace complimenting your skin tone more than any other colour. "even when i'm not around your still wearing my colour." you rolled your eyes at his goading when he cupped your breasts, squeezing the soft skin slightly.
"red was always arthur’s favourite colour on me." your voice was shallow as you spoke, sighing contently as squeezed your soft skin, thumbs grazing over your nipples. your words were a call back to when you and charles had started dating, the last year of high school, arthur only 15 and you and charles 18.
it was a running joke in the family of his crush on you, the younger leclerc taking after the rest of his family in that he was never shy to let someone know how he felt, especially the girls.
you saw charles' eyes darken at the mention of his name, quick to bring your mouth in for another, much shorter, kiss as his hands ran up and down your body. with each passing minute you melted into him, his lips peppering your neck with wet kisses while travelling further down your body, nibbling on your tender skin downwards. the room was dimly lid, yet you could clearly view his eyes on you, locked on you like a predator with his prey, pupils blown out in a crazed look.
quickly, charles cleared the soaked lace that was in his way, leaving no barrier between himself and your bare cunt. "don't get shy on me now, chérie, open your legs."
you couldn’t you resist him much longer, or maybe you didn’t want to, spreading your legs as he placed himself right in between you, hiking your leg over his shoulder. his lips drifted down from your calf, closer and closer to the inside of your thigh before you could feel his breath on you, hyperaware of everything.
"fuck, you're so wet." your skin erupted with goosebumps with his first of many kisses on your clit, the tingling nerves anticipating further care from him. charles prodded his tongue out, flicking it over your sensitivity, pitiful sounding whines falling from your lips.
"don’t tease me.” you pleaded with him, watching as his eyes flashed up at you, a mischievous smile on his face before turning away again.
charles flattened his tongue against you, licking a stripe up the middle, working his mouth against you whilst also placing his middle finger against your clit. he circled your clit with his tongue, whimpers falling from your lips from the pleasure. your eyes were screwed shut, hands clutching at the bedsheets when you felt him push two of his fingers inside of you.
"look at how good you take my fingers, mon amour, just as you always did."  Your thighs shook slightly when he pressed his tongue against your clit again alongside pumping his fingers in and out of you. your significant wetness was coating him, fingers easily moving as you clenched around them.
his mouth explored your every inch, his nose messily bumping against your clit when his tongue wasn't on it, your hand digging into his hair, keeping him there, pulling on the dark strands as groans sounded from him.
in between his taunts were words of praise, every second getting you closer and closer to the release you so desperately needed. your lips slumped into mindless pleading, with charles obliging, knowing full on well what you needed, he always did.
"forgot how good you taste." he made no attempt to tone down his crude language, making your cheeks rise up with heat, to have you writhe underneath him, not to mention with you succumbing to all of his attention on your neglected cunt.
you let out a louder moan, whining as he added a third finger, stretching you out more; more than you had been for at least a few months now. "charles, i'm so close." your pleading was futile, knowing charles was always the type of man to make you wait until he wanted you to come undone.
the clenching around his fingers made it even clearer that you were close, so close you were practically dancing around your release. "cmon, let go for me, chérie.” charles spoke in a low voice, his warm breath tickling your skin.
he help you ride through your first orgasm, his name the only thing on your tongue as your thighs shook around his head, your hands grasping at the grown out strands of his hair, charles letting his eyes glance up at you when you came. your back arched off the mattresses of the bed, the heels of your feet digging into charles' shoulders.
just when you thought he’d stop he didn’t relent, his fingers still moving inside of you, tongue pressed against your clit as he slowly circled it, you could hear the sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you, any other time and you’d be embarrassed by it. “s’too much, charles.”
“too much? one orgasm and it’s too much?” you nodded your head pitifully, hands reaching down to wrap around his wrist but it didn’t stop the movement of charle’s fingers. “what happened to my good girl? used to be able to at least give my fingers two.”
you knew where he was going with this, he wasn’t going to stop till you came again, wether it was on his tongue or with his fingers, and you whined when you felt them curl inside of you, feeling fuller than before somehow. already hypersensitive, it wasn’t long till the familiar rush came back to you, building in your stomach, the coil tightening till it once again snapped.
"never gonna be able to forget how good you sound moaning my name." his voice was tainted with, drawing out sloppy kisses on your belly, then breasts, wherever you let him he left marks in his wake. you let him explore and spoil you, shameless as he tenderly wrapped his lips around the erected nipple while rolling the other one between his fingers.
he puts out his hand for you, bringing you to match his height, moving to kiss you again now that your breathing was less erratic. "i want you to fuck me," you say almost breathlessly against his lips.
he hums against your lips, helping you up so you both can move atop your bed. he lays you back against what once was your neatly set up pillows, still hungrily kissing you, hands running down your thighs, but you move to grasp them. "fuck, i want you so badly right now." you knew it was wrong but you revelled in his confession, that after everything he was still yearning for you.
charles pauses looking at your eyes, still despite everything looking for any shade of regret in them. when he sees nothing he takes the opportunity to make one of his snide remarks. "remember when you told me this wasn't going to happen again? always knew you were a good liar."
you craved the stretch of him, the stretch that no many years together could prepare you for and the burn much like before that lingers in your throat and was so good that it made you forget how to think.
charles pushes inside of you, moving as slow as possible but you encourage him to fill you up completely. your eyes roll back into your head at the feeling of his cock stretching you, your hands coming to grasp onto his shoulders, nails digging in to his lightly tanned skin. charles' breathing staggers as he groans, moving forwards to place kisses along your jaw.
he stills once he's in you fully, but you shake your head slightly. "don't fucking stop charles,” his face stays tucked in your neck, his hips rolling against yours forcing a moan from your lips.
“even wore my favourite perfume, were you planning on fucking me when you got ready, chérie?" he’d just picked up on it there, the same signature scent you had wore throughout your entire relationship being the first one you reach for, a sweet smell that he thought reflected on you perfectly.
"shut up." he swallows a laugh when he hears you cry out, featherlight touches against your skin, gently, enjoying the sounds that rose from you with the way slammed into you.
he held your gaze, your eyes overcome with desire, lust, sensing nothing but your hammering heartbeat on his chest.
his lips slightly parted after every thrust, he knew he needed this as much as you did, taking advantage of the momentary peace to try to catch his breath with your nails holding onto his back, branding his skin with crescent shaped indents.
his little words of praise worked contradictory with his continuous taunts, teasing you as he nipped at your exposed skin.
your hands raked over his taut muscles, earning a grown from the man above you as your nails scratched against his back. charles pulled your hands in his own, placing them above your head before increasing the rhythm on his hips, steadier, deeper, not to mention pushing you closer to your release.
charles bought his face closer to yours, his lips just lightly brushing over your ear. "i want you to ride me, put on a show."
you couldn't help but moan at his words, nodding your head before switching positions, charles staying inside as you straddled his lap, knees locked in on either side of his thighs, his eyes meeting yours and you could see how desperate he was in that moment.
he was sat further up on the bed, your nails raking down his chest, leaving more, deeper, marks sure to last. lips pressed against the side of his neck, biting down on the skin before soothing over it and moving onto another place.
his adams apple bobbed as you took more of the control, setting your own pace despite his hands on your hips trying to make you go faster. charles brought his thumb down to your clit, circling it which had your thighs shaking around him.
charles' name fell from your mouth more than anything else, him and your pleasure your two sole focuses.
he could see the tiredness start to come through in your movements, choosing to take more control wether you complained or not. he began thrusting up into you with his hands on your hips, his thumb still rubbing circles on your clit determine to make you come at least once more.
your thighs tried closing around charles' midriff from the overwhelming sensitivity, although he was there to keep them open, a hand on the top of both of your thighs forcing them open.
clenching around him one last time you felt him release inside of you, the warm feeling of him so deep inside of you making you whine. charles let out a string of curse words, your name at the forefront when he let out one last groan, slumping back against your pillows altogether his hands didn’t stop the movement of your hips.
within the whirlwind of emotions, you desperately clenched around him, with this position your heart was racing, dipping into the mattress with soft gusts of breath departing from your lips. the raw drag of him was somehow more extreme, pursing your mouth when you felt a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.
his own orgasm brought on yours, your bodies in-tune with each other as if he’d never left. you were completely ruined, mind going blank as you felt yourself losing full control of your body to charles, vision a blinding white as your body felt hot all over.
the monegasque brought you in for a short kiss, leaving for the bathroom when you rolled off of him and coming back with a dampened towel, helping you clean up.
you both knew it was the last time you had together, the last time you would ever share a bed together, the last kiss.
and the thought of that had you clutching onto each other in your sleep just a bit tighter.
although before you did eventually fall asleep, you heard charles whisper one last thing in your ear, his confession bringing the smallest of smiles to your face.
"je serai toujours à toi."
tag list:
@irmpyrz @tempo-rary-fix @formulas-bitch @yunnie-f1 @julesandro @itsjustkhaos @janeh22 (a year later and i finally have something to tag yous in!!)
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vampcubus · 11 months
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:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!yandere!izuku, dom!fem!reader, kinda mean reader, izuku being delusional & obsessive, spitting, oral (f!receiving), not proofread.
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I wanna bully Yandere Izuku just a bit, just to watch him crumple at the slightest crumb of attention. Because let’s face it, Izuku doesn’t care if you’re being nice to him. He wants you to perceive him, to acknowledge him as something tangible — something worth your time. And if you spend that time pulling on his chubby cheeks and hooking your fingers in his mouth to spit into it, who is he to try and stop you?
If he can’t be with you, he can at least be entertaining for you. If you say all he’s good for is to spread his legs and fuck himself on his fingers while you watch, who is he to disagree? All that processes in his fuzzy little head is that he’s good for something.
It’s just fun at first, teasing your pathetic little stalker to see him trip over himself. You didn’t mean for it to go this far, but you can’t deny that the creep has grown on you. After all, who else would get on their knees and worship the ground you walk on while being treated like a pet? Not many, which makes Izuku a special case that you just can’t get enough of.
Your conscience is telling you to get outta there, that playing with someone’s feelings that was so clearly ill for you was a bad idea. You can imagine the fit he’d throw if you proposed such an idea, actually quite vividly because he’s throwing it right now.
“What do you mean we shouldn’t see each other anymore? I thought things were going so well!” He sobs into your thigh, his arms and legs clinging to your leg like a child. Your hands hover just above his head awkwardly, unsure if you should really be comforting him right then. “You can’t break up with me now!”
“Break up? We were never even a thing. There’s nothing to break up. I let you follow me around and we had a bit of fun, but really this is getting out of control. I mean, I’m using you, you know?”
Izuku doesn’t seem to be hearing you though, too caught up in his own delusions. You had expected him to take it poorly, but this was worse than you thought.
“You weren’t concerned about using me before. Why are you abandoning me all of a sudden? I just wanna make you happy!” The man bawls, and you’re ashamed by how the pathetic look on his face excites you.
He was pretty, even when he cried.
“Don’t you see that whatever fantasy world you live in isn’t real? I told you from the beginning that a relationship between us was impossible.”
“But you keep coming back to me. That means I’m useful to you, right? I’ve been so good for you. I’ve stopped following you around as much and I’ve been taking less of your stuff like you asked me to! I’ve done everything you asked without question, you can’t throw me away now!” Izuku’s fingers twist in your shirt, and he uses it as leverage to drag himself up from the floor.
“Izuku,” you sigh, more protestations resting on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.
“Let me prove to you how much you need me. That no one can make you feel as good as I can, can submit to you like I can.” He sinks to his knees before you, like he’s done countless times before, his shaking hands pulling your skirt up so he can mouth at your cunt through the cotton of your panties.
Your knees buckle at the contact, your hand rushing down to hold the back of his head despite yourself. You can only sigh and let him lap at you, letting him tug your panties down your legs to suckle at your oversensitive pussy properly.
You have to admit that he’s gotten much better at this. You can vividly remember the first time you let him go down on you, teaching him how to eat you out the way you liked it. And you can tell now that he’d memorized every word, every moan of approval and scrap of praise you’ve thrown his way because he knows just where you need his slick tongue to tease.
Izuku still moans excitedly into your pussy after all this time, as if the act itself was pleasurable for him too. Not knowing that he dreamed of it years before you met officially, or how he fucked his fist until his cock was raw at the thought of tasting you. He savors every swipe of his pink tongue over you abundant slick like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to, and with a hitch of his breath, tears spring to his eyes when he realizes that it might be.
If he didn’t do a good job you’d leave him.
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junkissed · 10 months
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happy ending
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member — husband!junhui x f reader genre — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort word count — 6.6k synopsis — a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time. warnings — female reader, planned pregnancy, there's a big argument but i tried to not make it too toxic (jun and reader have a happy & healthy relationship i promise), swearing, there is a happy ending lots of fluff !! notes — requested by anon — this has been sitting in my drafts for months bc every time i look at it i get shy and wanna change my mind but i'm proud of how this turned out so i'm posting it finally! i know pregnancy fics aren't everyone's favorite but this was honestly very comforting to write so i hope anyone who chooses to read can find comfort in it as well <3 also the last time i proofread this was like april and if i try to proofread it rn i'll get shy again and chicken out so if there's any mistakes pls ignore! i hope you enjoy :)
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you sat on the bathroom floor, trying to comprehend the weight of the news you held in your hand. you couldn’t believe it. you could? you couldn’t. 
after many months of trying to start a family with your husband, you had finally succeeded. the slim plastic stick with two tiny pink lines was the last piece of evidence you needed. it had been months of carefully tracked cycles, fertility doctors, and new positions that seemed too weird to actually do anything. but now, everything was finally falling into place.
you don’t know exactly how much time you spend sitting on the floor and staring at the pregnancy test; thinking, planning, and thinking some more. but when you finally stand up and place the positive test on the counter with shaking hands, it still hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happening. something you’d wanted for so long, and finally it was all right in front of you.
what do you do now? no— you know exactly what you need to do, and it’s a long list of things. the real question is, where do you begin?
you thought back to all the videos you’d watched over the last few weeks. somehow every social media algorithm knew exactly what you wanted to see, and it had given it to you in abundance; baby showers, gender reveals, those “get ready with me - new mom edition” videos. all getting your hopes up before you could confirm whether or not it had finally happened.
with your hopes high and expectations even higher, you were already beginning to plan how you would break the news to junhui. as your husband and your soon-to-be baby’s father, of course you wanted him to be the very first person to know, so you couldn’t wait too long to tell him. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.
maybe you’d get a little gift box and give the test to him before dinner. but, then again, it was literally a piece of plastic you’d peed on. surely you could give him… something a little nicer than that.
maybe you could buy a baby outfit and wrap it up for him. but you remembered he’d mentioned so many times about how excited he would be to pick out clothes once you got pregnant. you would want him to have the honor of picking out the very first one, going to the store together and looking through the whole section before finally settling on the perfect one.
what else was there you could do? bake a cake? make a crossword puzzle? buy him a t-shirt that says “dad-to-be”? so many ways you could do it, but none of them seemed perfectly right.
from the other room you hear the door opening, and hurriedly you stuff the test into a drawer, not wanting to tell him just yet. you need a plan first; waiting another day or two couldn’t hurt, so you’ll just have to figure out how to tell him later.
you flip off the bathroom light and stride into the hallway, barely able to contain the grin on your face. you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets, and with news as big and exciting as this you have no idea how you’re going to be able to hide it from him for more than a minute.
but luckily you don’t have to wonder about it for long, because as soon as you see jun you can already tell he’s in a sour mood. 
you know it’s usually best to let him have some time alone when he’s upset, but not for too long because he starts getting frustrated with himself and won’t stop working until he’s exhausted.
but you’re still on a high after everything today, so you decide on being a little bit sweeter to him in the hopes that your happiness will be contagious and that it’ll lift his spirits, despite what was probably a really awful day at work.
you find him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, long fingers pressed against his eyes trying to block out the light.
“hey, junnie,” you call out, sitting down in a chair next to him. “bad day?”
“yeah,” he answers shortly.
“i’m sorry, baby,” you hum, putting your hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and your hand falls away in surprise. he’s never done that before. weird. you try something else. “um, any requests for dinner?”
“not hungry.”
“alright. well, i guess i can cook up some veggies and leave them out, you can heat them up whenever you get hungry.”
he moves his hands away from his face and onto the table, sighing as he leans back in his chair. “can you just— leave me alone for a while? i’m sorry.”
you nod and stand up. “no, it’s fine. i get it. i’ll bring you some tea later then, maybe. text me when you’re feeling better.” you reach out and gently touch his hand before walking away, leaving him alone at the table.
it’s definitely one of his worser days, you note, so you retreat to your bedroom to watch more videos on your phone, trying to bring back your excitement from earlier. hopefully later he’ll be more open and you can sit down and eat something, and maybe by then you’ll have come up with a good way to tell him the news.
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an hour passes and you come out of your bedroom to look for jun, having a question from one of your friends about the dinner you’d arranged to have together next week. but he’s no longer in the kitchen, so you peek your head into his office room and find him exactly where you expect him to be, trying to work himself to death.
you clear your throat before you enter, not wanting to startle him again. “hey, junnie, i know you’re in a bad mood, and i’m sorry to interrupt, but—”
“what do you want?” he snaps, never turning around from his desk. just from the way he’s hunched over his computer, he looks like the most stressed you’ve ever seen him, and your chest tightens with worry before your brain registers what he’s just said to you.
“i— excuse me?”
“i said, what do you want?” he repeats, still facing away from you.
you resist the urge to glare at him, knowing he’s probably under a lot of pressure, and you aren’t trying to add to it. “you don’t have to be rude, jun. i just came in here to double check about next weekend, minghao’s texting me.”
he finally lifts his head, slamming his hand down on the desk. “i’m really trying not to snap at you, but— jesus, you make it so fucking hard sometimes.”
you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, your voice lifting in tone. “well, i’m so very sorry to inconvenience you then, but i really don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, jun.”
“and i don’t appreciate you talking to me like i’m a child! when will you get it through your head?”
his comment stings, but you brush it off. “well, maybe if you’d just talk to me like an adult instead of throwing a fit and hiding in your office then i wouldn’t have to treat you like one!” you’re starting to get tired of how he retreats in on himself every time bad shit happens. all you want to do is let him know he doesn’t have to do it alone, and he’s just… exploding at you for no reason, so you don’t try to hide the snarkiness behind your words.
he scoffs angrily and stands up, towering over you at his full height. “oh, grow up! you’re so moody all the time and you expect me to just put up with it! as if i don’t have enough other shit to worry about, i have to worry about what you think of this and that and everything all the damn time!”
you’ve never seen him get so angry like this, and it’s almost scary how completely different this jun is from the jun you know and love. “okay, jun, fine, i’ll just—”
“no, don’t fucking “jun, fine” me. it’s like you’re doing it on purpose at this point, you act like everything is just so perfect and then when it’s not you act like it’s your job to fix everything! you can’t fix everything!”
“i said fine! just forget it, i’ll leave you the hell alone like you always want!”
he pushes past you and crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, his hand already on the doorknob. “i need to get some air. i’ll be back later.”
you fold your arms over your chest, trying to look unphased but inside your heart is breaking. “you’re really gonna walk out like that? you’re just gonna run away from this? real mature, junhui.”
he spins around, and the look in his eyes is cold. “if i don’t get out of this house right now i’m gonna say something i actually regret.”
and in a flash the door is slammed shut and jun is gone. you can hear his car starting up in the driveway, and seconds later everything is dead silent.
you stand frozen in front of the door, unable to move. you can’t believe it. you can’t. what just happened?
jun has never just… walked out like that.
his words ring in your ears; though your argument wasn’t very long, a lot was said in a very short time and you can’t even begin to think about how to process it as it starts to hit you all at once.
say something he actually regrets? what the hell does that mean? so he’s saying he doesn’t regret everything else, the cursing and the anger and the pointed words that were clearly meant to hurt you?
minute after long minute passes and you realize he’s not coming back anytime soon. finally you drag yourself away from the door, dropping down on the couch in a daze.
there’s never been a time where you and jun haven’t made up immediately after an argument. sure, maybe you take a little bit to cool down in your own space, but neither of you like letting the tension sit unresolved for very long. so what was it this time that made him leave without even a goodbye?
so many reasons, so many excuses, so many words you could’ve said instead. you shouldn’t have reacted like that, you shouldn’t have kept it going, you should’ve just left him alone. would that have made him stay? if you’d backed down sooner and just let him work through it on his own?
despite all the what-ifs and the doubts in your mind, your conscience won’t allow you to let him worry about everything by himself without at least offering your help. you’re a team, husband and wife, and you’ll be damned if you let him forget that. maybe you trying to help actually made things worse in the end, but at least you know you tried… right?
it’s not until you check your phone and realize that jun’s been gone more than half an hour that you finally let yourself cry. you’d been so focused on worrying about where jun was and whether he was okay that you’d barely even thought about what might happen after this.
will he just… come back and pretend nothing happened? will he come back and still be angry at you? it would almost be worse if he was calm and acted like everything was normal. would he even apologize? would you even apologize? of course you would. both of you said things that were fucked up, and you’ll be the first to admit it if it means this whole thing can be over. right now all you want is to have junhui back.
the tears keep falling but you don’t even feel yourself crying, your face rigid as the tears continue to stain your cheeks.
after an hour you force yourself to get up off the couch and move somewhere, anywhere around the house to try and get your mind off things. but you can’t erase his voice from your head, the look in his eyes as he walked out the door and the way his shoulders hunched from anger mixed with exhaustion.
you find yourself back in your bedroom and you fall onto his side of the bed, wishing you would wake up to find that this has all just been a very bad dream.
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it’s after 10pm when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand and you sit up in a panic, scrambling to see if it’s something from jun. your eyes sting from crying so much, and you blink away the remaining tears as you unlock your phone with shaking hands. your heart drops even further when you realize it is, in fact, from jun, but not the news you want to hear.
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you let your phone slip out of your grasp, tumbling to the carpet with a thud. when he’d said he’d be back later you had assumed that meant he’d be coming back tonight. clearly you thought wrong.
tomorrow seemed so far away; too much time to spend alone in a house that was supposed to be filled with happy memories, but now all you felt was pain. you felt it in your chest and in your stomach and in your head and everywhere. the whole room was suffocating, heavy weight crushing down on you from every angle.
you slide to the floor and pick up your phone. you don’t text junhui back. you’re not sure anymore if he’d even read your message. 
instead you type in your friend seokmin’s phone number, listening to the line ring as you wipe the back of your hand across your eyes.
as soon as he picks up, he can hear the anguish in your voice and he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong, but all you can muster up is a soft, “can i stay with you tonight?” because you can’t bear to be in this house another second without junhui. 
and of course he says yes, and of course he’s immediately on his way over to pick you up. and of course he stops at mcdonald’s on the way back to his house to buy you something to eat, because you haven’t eaten and even though you don’t particularly have much of an appetite right now, seokmin would rather die than let you skip a meal, especially on a night like tonight when you could really use something to keep you going.
you throw your overnight bag on the floor of seokmin’s living room with a small sigh. in a haze you’d tossed in whatever items you thought you might need; a toothbrush, pajamas, something to wash your face with. 
he gives you space for a while as he pulls out the folding bed part of the couch and brings out blankets and pillows for you to sleep with. you don’t say it, but you really appreciate his help. he’s been one of your best friends for so long, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 
you hadn’t thought about it while you were packing, but as you stand in seokmin’s bathroom you think about the cleanser you’d grabbed; your favorite one, the one jun had gotten you for your birthday last year and you’d never switched to another brand since. 
every single thing reminds you of him, and you push down a fresh wave of emotion as you scrub the foam into your skin, trying to wash away all your tears.
when you’re done getting ready for bed you find seokmin in the living room with a pot of tea. he was just trying to help, but unluckily for him, he’d made green tea. it was your favorite… but it also happened to be jun’s favorite.
and this time you can’t hold back your tears, and seokmin is sitting wide eyed and bewildered, wondering why you’re crying over tea, but he doesn’t ask. he just reaches out to let you hug him, and you squeeze him so tightly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything, just lets you hug him as hard as you can and lets your tears stain his t-shirt.
it takes another half hour for you to calm down enough to talk. you’d spent the time watching whatever was on tv, not really paying attention and instead playing everything back in your mind. seokmin had just sat next to you, quietly keeping you company until you were ready.
“jun and i… had a fight,” you say finally, interrupting the commercial playing on the screen.
“i figured,” he says, offering you a comforting smile as he mutes the tv. “do you wanna talk about it?”
“i don’t know. there’s not much to talk about.” you take a shaky breath, remembering it all one more time. “we both said some awful things that we didn’t mean. at least, i know i didn’t mean them. then he just… left, and he texted that he’d come home tomorrow. that’s it.”
you don’t tell him about the pregnancy test. you’ve mentioned once or twice that you and jun had been interested in starting a family, but you’d never gone into detail about it and you weren’t going to now. you still wanted jun to be the first person to know, even though you didn’t know when that might be anymore.
you tell him about other things instead, about your day at work and your plans for the weekend. eventually you finish your tea, and seokmin retreats to his own room and shuts the door with a quiet click, leaving you alone in the quiet of his living room.
it takes you a long time to fall asleep, but soon your exhaustion catches up with you and you let yourself rest, physically and emotionally drained. at least the silence here isn’t as bad as the silence at your house.
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across town in his friend seungcheol’s guest bedroom, jun can’t stop tossing and turning. he’s fucked up, he knows he fucked up, big time.
why did he leave? he shouldn’t have left. you had been absolutely right, he was running away from everything and it was stupid and dumb and immature. but in that moment all he could think about was what the next awful thing he might say to you was, and he knew if he had stayed for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to stop what came out of his mouth. he was out of control, and immediately he knew it.
not even the worst day in the world could make you deserving of all the things he said to you. you were the only thing that wasn’t bad in his life; even on shitty days like today, all you did was care about him. and all he did was hurt you.
jun barely sleeps that night, finally forcing himself out of the extra bed at dawn. he’d been too anxious to sleep, too frustrated with himself to do anything other than think about everything he did and wonder if you were okay without him.
he’d already gotten an earful from his friend last night, and he knew he was still in big trouble. the things he said wouldn’t just go away overnight. in fact, they’d probably gotten worse by leaving them to build up overnight, and again he’s kicking himself for ever leaving in the first place.
he packs up his things as quickly as he can, eager to get home and see you again. on his way out the door, he thanks seungcheol for letting him stay the night and he apologizes for bothering him so late.
“i’m not the one you need to apologize to. you better figure out how to fix this, jun.”
with a straight face he nods, bowing his head as he closes the door.
in his car, jun takes the long way home, trying to find an open grocery store. he knows it won’t make up for how he acted, but the very least he can do it buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
he walks through the aisles, basket in hand, trying to think of something else for you. maybe he’ll get the ingredients he needs to make your favorite dinner tonight; he hadn’t eaten last night, though you had offered to cook for him and he’d shot you down.
he feels another pang of guilt at the thought, remembering yet another kind gesture you’d tried to give him that he’d brushed off like it meant nothing. it meant everything to him, and in the middle of the frozen vegetables aisle he swore he wouldn’t ever do it again. 
he’d taken you for granted, and he was so lucky that things hadn’t ended worse than they did. he could’ve said something truly unforgivable, or he could’ve even lost your relationship altogether. but he was still yours, and you were still his, and he would just have to work extra hard to make sure you knew how sincere he was.
he’d been a little worried that you hadn’t texted him back last night, seeing that you’d read his message but never responded. you were probably still hurt, and he didn’t blame you; still, he’d hoped you would say something back.
with grocery bags loaded full of ingredients for dinner and the special things he’d bought for you, the drive back home feels a little more hopeful.
he plans out everything he’ll do in the car. he’ll bring the groceries in and put them away quickly; it’s still fairly early in the morning, so hopefully you won’t be awake yet. he’ll arrange your flowers all nice in a pretty vase, and he’ll come in and wake you up with the best apology of his life and hopefully a really big hug. after the last 24 hours he really could use a hug, and he’s sure you could too. and then he’ll explain how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean any of it and then everything will be better again. yes, everything will be okay.
the first part of his plan goes perfectly. he sneaks into the house and when he’s met with silence he continues putting everything away, quietly so he won’t wake you up in the other room. then, he puts the flowers in a vase and with everything in place, he walks down the hallway to finally face you.
but when he twists the bedroom door handle, the bed is made and the room is empty. you aren’t there.
he frowns, leaving the room and poking his head into the bathroom, then his office. he calls your name loudly, hoping you’re just in a corner of the house and you’ll come out once you hear him. but no reply.
he goes back into the living room and sets the vase down on the coffee table, trying to think. you aren’t usually up this early, but maybe you hadn’t been able to sleep and you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you’d gone to the store to get more cereal? 
a sinking feeling rises in his chest, and he walks back into the bedroom to confirm something, sliding open the closet door to check. your overnight duffel bag is gone.
he ducks back into the bathroom to check something else. your toothbrush isn’t sitting in the jar like it usually is. he slides open the bathroom drawer to check one more thing, and—
his hand freezes on the knob, staring at something in the drawer that wasn’t there before. he’s not sure it is what he thinks it is, but either way there it is, clear as day in front of him: a little white piece of plastic, sticking out from underneath a tissue. 
gingerly he pulls it out, holding it up to the light to see it better. when he sees the two pink lines he nearly drops it in shock, but he stops himself, setting it gently on the counter instead.
this is something special, something precious, and he knew he had to take care of it. you’d saved it for a reason; you could’ve easily just thrown it away once you knew the results, but you had kept it instead. were you going to give it to him?
he covers his mouth with his hand, still staring at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. it was just a cheap piece of plastic, but to him it was the most important thing in the entire world.
he deflates when he realizes you’d probably been planning on telling him last night, before he’d blown up at you. if he’d been paying attention to anyone other than himself, he would’ve noticed your mood was happier than usual, your face glowing with contained excitement. he should’ve been paying attention.
there’s a sense of urgency in his stride as he dashes around the house, looking for any other sign of you, but it’s clear you weren’t there. there were so many places you could be, he can’t even begin to think of where to look. your parents, friends, family; hell, you could even have stayed in a hotel, alone and upset. he should’ve been there. none of this should’ve ever happened.
immediately he presses the speed dial for your phone, but of course– no answer. he calls again, and again you don’t pick up. he curses, resisting the urge to slam his phone down on the table in frustration. no, he has to stay calm. that’s what got him into this whole fucking mess in the first place.
he remembers that your parents are out of town on vacation, so you probably wouldn’t have gone there. you wouldn’t have gone to a hotel because you always lecture him about the importance of saving money “just in case”, so you wouldn’t have paid to stay somewhere. your sister is still in college and shares an apartment with three other people, so probably not the best idea either. 
that narrows it down to one of your friends’ houses; seokmin, who lives a couple blocks away, or joshua, who lives on the other side of town.
he figures seokmin is his best bet, so jun takes a deep breath and finds the contact in his phone.
“what do you want?” seokmin’s usually cheery voice has an edge to it today, and jun knows he’s picked right.
“is she there?” he asks anxiously.
“she is,” he confirms, and jun exhales, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “but she’s asleep still. i’ll let her know you called.”
“wait,” jun adds quickly.
the line is silent for a moment, and he’s afraid seokmin’s already hung up, but finally he gets a response. “what is it?”
"can i–are you sure? please," jun pleads. if he could just talk to you, just explain what happened and that he's so fucking sorry—
“hold on,” seokmin says, and the phone goes quiet again.
jun’s heart is in his throat as he waits for a response, and he stops when he finally hears your voice. “hello?”
he breathes a sigh of relief. “sweetheart. i’m so sorry.”
you don’t reply, so he continues.
“i’m glad you’re okay,” he starts, trying to put the right words together. “i shouldn’t have said any of that last night, and i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry.”
“thanks” is all you say, and he hates how small and sad your voice sounds. it’s his fault you sound like that.
“i found your test,” he bursts out, unable to hide his excitement any longer.
“oh." you pause, swallowing. "so… you know.”
“yes, i do know, baby. i’m so sorry, if i had known before—”
you cut him off, your tone suddenly rising with anger. “‘if you had known?’ so you won’t yell at me if i’m pregnant, but you’re just fine with yelling at me when you think i’m not? is that the only reason why you’re even apologizing to me right now?"
“no— fuck, no, of course not. i shouldn’t yell at you, period. and i’m not going to ever again.” jun pauses for a second, rubbing his hand over his eyes. he’s done nothing so far but make everything worse. “i really messed up, honey, and i’m sorry. i can’t say it enough. but— please, come home. i don’t want to talk over the phone.”
you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that threaten to fall again. you don’t want to cry about this anymore. “okay,” you say finally. “i’ll be home in a little while.”
“thank you,” jun says, and the way his voice breaks makes your heart sink. you can tell he feels awful about everything, and you do really, really miss him.
“…i love you," you add, changing your mind at the last second.
“i love you, too!” he says immediately. “i love you, too, honey. text me when you’re on your way.”
“i will.”
he says “i love you” twice more before you end the call. you sit in silence for a second, processing everything before you stand up off the couch and head to seokmin’s room to give him back his phone.
"can you take me home now, please?" you tell him softly, and immediately seokmin stands up and hugs you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.
"of course. let me know when you're ready."
half an hour later you find yourself in the front seat of seokmin’s car once again, this time sitting nervously in his driveway as he puts your bag in the trunk for you. you're still not sure if you're ready to face jun yet, but you know you have to.
reluctantly you unlock your phone and open your text messages with jun, your eyes landing on the text he'd sent last night that had gone unreplied. with shaky fingers you type out that you're leaving seokmin’s house, and jun replies almost instantly with a long string of heart emojis.
seokmin gets into the car and starts it, and you exhale and set your phone in the cupholder.
"are you okay?" he asks, turning to look at you. "because you can always let me know if you need anything. anytime, day or night."
"i'm alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "i'm fine. but thank you, seok. i really appreciate everything."
he smiles, shifting the car into reverse. "of course. it's no problem at all."
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the second he hears the car pull up outside the house, jun jumps up off the couch, smoothing his shirt down anxiously. through the window he watches seokmin hand you your bag and close the trunk, giving you one last hug before he gets back in the car. he doesn't drive away until you're at the front porch, and with a deep breath jun swings open the door, before you can even knock.
you both stand there in silence for a second before he blurts out another apology. "i'm sorry," he rushes to say. "i'm really sorry."
you give him a weak smile. "can i maybe… get in the house, first?" you ask quietly, motioning with your free hand at the doorway.
"yeah, i— yeah, shit, of course," jun says as he practically jumps out of your way, holding the door open for you to walk inside.
you set your bag on the floor by the couch as he closes the door behind you. the sound of the lock clicking seems too loud in the uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.
"can… can i give you a hug? please?" he asks, and you stay quiet but nod. 
he closes the distance between you in one stride and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly and holding you close to his chest. "i'm so sorry, honey. i didn't mean any of it. i promise."
"i believe you," you finally manage, your voice a little muffled from how he's pressing you against him.
he doesn't say anything more, just holds you and holds you, and it feels so good to be home where you belong. there's a lot that needs to be said, but for right now you don't need any more words. you're just glad to be back together again.
after a while you pull your head away from him so you speak. "i'm sorry."
"why are you apologizing? you didn't do anything wrong, baby. i'm the one that needs to be apologizing."
you shake your head. "no. i said some things last night, too. granted, not as bad as you, but…"
jun breaks out into a grin at your joke, and you feel your mood start to lighten. "…which is true. and i'm sorry."
"jun, you can stop apologizing now. i get it, you're sorry. you don't have to tell me a million times," you say, trying to laugh a little.
now it's his turn to shake his head. "well, i'm going to anyway. because i am sorry." you look away from him, feeling embarrassment start to boil up, but he continues talking. "i'm serious. i'll say it as many times as it takes to make it right."
you turn your head back to him, struggling to keep a straight face. "why did you leave, jun?" you ask softly.
he takes a deep breath, and still trapped in his arms you can feel his chest expand with the breath. 
"it was stupid," he says finally. "i left because i didn't want to stay and risk hurting you more. but i realize i did that anyway, by leaving. i was just… i needed some air. but i shouldn't have stayed away, and i'm not gonna do that again. i won't do it, ever again."
"i just don't want you to leave me," you manage, trying and failing to hide the crack in your voice as you feel your eyes start to well up with tears.
he hugs you tighter and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, gently smoothing your hair with his thumb. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. i'm not going to, i promise."
you don't respond, but you know he's telling the truth. the last 24 hours have been hell for the both of you, and you don't doubt he means every single "i'm sorry" he's said.
"so…" jun starts, and you tilt your head up at him.
"so?" you know what he's going to say next, and despite the excitement you had yesterday you feel yourself dreading this part of the conversation.
"you're pregnant?"
you sigh, looking down and avoiding his eyes. "yeah."
he hums. "but you don't sound excited?" he asks.
"well, i was, last night."
"i'm sorry," he winces. "do you wanna tell me now and i'll pretend this didn't happen and i don't know about it?"
you shake your head. "no, it's fine. the moment's kinda… ruined, already."
he sighs. "yeah, i know. i'm sorry i ruined it."
"i said it's fine, jun."
"no, it's not fine," he says firmly. "it's one hundred percent my fault. this is important to you, and to us, and we should be celebrating right now. last night should never have happened."
"jun, it's in the past. it was messed up, but i forgive you," you say, lifting you head to look at him once more. "it's not a big deal. we're okay now."
"i just want you to be happy about it," he says with a sniff. "we've been trying for so long, and finally…" he trails off, staring at you with watery eyes. 
you smile at him. "i am happy about it, junnie. i'm so happy, you can't even believe."
"did you tell seokmin?" he asks, and his brows furrow when you shake your head no.
"no, i didn't. i wanted you to be the first i told," you say shyly. "i knew you would want to be the first to know."
"i love you so much," he says, still hugging you. he's never going to let you go, never again. "do you know how far along?"
"no, i didn't go to the doctor. probably like two or three weeks, though, if i've been counting it right."
"wow," he sighs, a smile on his face as he stares off into the distance behind you. "i can't wait."
you watch his eyes, practically able to see the thoughts running through his head. 
after a while he loosens his grip around you, moving to swipe at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "well—anyway," he starts, giving you an awkward chuckle. "i bought stuff for breakfast. if you haven't had any, yet. and i'm making dinner tonight, too."
before you can even respond his eyes widen, like he's just now remembering all the things he had planned, and he lets go of you, bounding into the kitchen. he returns seconds later with a huge glass vase full of flowers, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to hand them to you. "and i got these for you, too. sorry they're not the best, it's all the store had this morning."
"junnie, if this is the best the store had, then i don't think i wanna see their best," you laugh, holding the flowers up and admiring the dozens of bright blooms. "this is gorgeous, but you really didn't need to get me anything."
"but i wanted to," he counters, still running around the room to grab the gift bag sitting by the couch. "consider it an 'i'm very sorry' slash 'congrats you're having a baby' gift."
you set the vase down on the table next to you and take the bag from him, pulling out the tissue paper and crumpling it into a ball.
"i didn't have a whole lot of time to look this morning, but i found these," he says nervously, waiting for your reaction.
from the bag you pull out a miniature plastic hanger holding a set of tiny pajamas covered in little kitties, attached to a matching set of striped orange socks.
"i wanted to be the first person to get you baby clothes," he explains as he fidgets with his hands. 
"i knew you would," you smile at him, setting the empty bag and the clothes on the table along with the bouquet of flowers. "and they're perfect. they're so… you."
you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another hug. "i love all of it. thank you, jun."
he grins, rocking you back and forth in his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheek. "i love you too, baby. i missed you so much. i won't ever do that again."
"i know," you smile. "now… you promised me breakfast, isn't that right? because i'm starving. crying is exhausting."
he laughs. "no crying anymore. and i did promise you that, so tell me: do you want blueberry waffles, or strawberry?"
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princessslutt · 2 months
Note
girl u absolutely devoured that last one ily
im back and with more i can keep em coming all dayyy
ok so maybe like some innocent!virgin!shy!reader stuff and like rafe is talkint her through it and stuffff
remember to take breaks!!!! love uu🫶🏼🫶🏼
okay. so I’ve been so overwhelmed with how many requests I have inbox, I kinda forced myself to get up and actually write this so I’m sorry for its ass. thank you hun.
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you’ve always been shy, but around rafe it was different. you had never stopped holding his hand or leaving his side in public.
you got really nervous when the waiter at a restaurant would ask you what you want to eat, so rafe always ordered for you.
you didn’t talk much while I’m public, but rafe always reminds you about how you need to start using your words.
but this whole shy thing melts his heart. he thinks it’s so adorable.
“baby c’mon, talk to the nice waiter. she’s asking you what you want to eat.”
you just shut down, eyes going to your fingers in your lap.
rafe can tell you’re trying not to cry. believe it or not, he starts to feel bad.
“she’ll just have this,” pointing to the menu and then giving them to the waiter so she can take them back.
“was that so hard, doll? you can’t even tell the nice lady what you want to eat.”
at that you just crawl into his lap because you feel safe in his arms.
he just rubs your back and plays with your hair as you slightly fall asleep in his lap, until the food came.
after dinner he convinces you to have sex with him. he knows you’re a virgin, and he knows you’re shy.
but he currently has you laid on your back while his hips thrust into you as the speed of light.
your soft whines and sobs is what’s keeping him going. he knows it has to hurt because he didn’t properly stretch you out.
he feels so selfish for it but he can’t seem to stop. you feel so good around him.
“shhhh … I know baby, I know.” he utters, grabbing both of your legs and pushing them to your chest.
he manages to slip deeper inside of you then he already is.
which makes you yelp out. he notices how you clench around him, knowing you’re about to finish.
he rubs your clit, making you groan. he’s past had you in a chokehold and he knows it.
“c’mon baby, I can feel how tight you are around me. let go for me.”
you could hear the smirk in his voice, he thinks it’s so adorable how just a bit of cock can have you cumming around him.
that’s when the coil snaps, tears falling from your waterline and to the apples of your cheeks.
rafe finally finishes on your stomach. you feel the hot liquid falling down on it.
he quickly goes back and rides out his high. making you overstimulated.
“n-no more rafey please it’s too m-much” you cry out.
“okay, okay.” he says, pulling out slowly and you feel so tired you immediately close your eyes.
“hey hey, you gotta atleast go to the bathroom for me, don’t wanna get a UTI. it’s not fun baby.”
you try your best to nuzzle your way into the pillows, until he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. you look at him, and he knows what’s wrong.
“no need to be shy, baby. I just seen you cum around my cock.”
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˚˖𓍢ִ🩰✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊
@avaavvavaa
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ohmtoff · 2 months
Note
you made me think ab nerd nick too damn much its concerning. imagine jerking him off while he yaps ab his geeky stuff, stuttering and his words slurring when you squeeze around his tip
ANON…. youre actually my soulmate how did we think of the same thing (nsfw)
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nerdy nick who’s far sighted so he regularly wears his glasses that make his eyes look bigger and just adorable. his wardrobe consists of graphic tees and hoodies that fit him awkwardly and his hair is most of the time disheveled.
nerdy nick whose budget goes to cosplay and comic con because those things are expensiveee and his brothers try their hardest to support him by helping him make the costumes (imagine nick unironically doing the anime hands thing around chris and matt and they try not to cringe LMFAOOOOO).
nerdy nick who yaps soooo much about his interests, from lord of the rings lore to his fav doctor from doctor who. i can just IMAGINE him making video essays complaining ab the new live action avatar series and how it doesnt hold up to the original series.
nerdy nick who’s the same sassy and witty guy as we know but he also puts that energy to defend his fav characters on the internet. best believe he has a stan account. many of his tattoos are dedicated to his comfort characters as well.
nerdy nick whose interests look innocent to others but behind closed doors he regularly reads and writes the most sheet gripping, back arching, toe curling smut about his fav fictional men. erwin from aot, thorin from the hobbit, ALL of jujutsu kaisen. he furiously stroked his dick to the thought of getting fucked dumb by nanami.
nerdy nick who acted normal and talks about regular stuff when he first met you but when he gets comfortable with you he immediately starts yapping. you think he’s just the most adorable thing when his eyes light up when talking about all his interests. you don’t even know what he’s talking about but your attention is hooked. nick, however, was used to people pretending to care about what he’s talking about so he stops himself.
“i’m sorry. ugh, i always talk too much, that was weird and boring”
“no, no, it’s fine. so… uruk-hais are bred between orcs and humans?”
nick wanted to suck your dick right then and there.
having sex with anime playing in the background was not rare between you two. one time, you both were watching an episode when you got distracted by how his tongue was peeking out with concentration. you noticed how fat his tongue was and how red his lips were. those same lips were wrapped around your cock not long after that. nick was gagging and moaning around it, his eyes bubbling up with tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as he jerked you off from the base. saliva would drip from his mouth, running down his chin as he struggled to take everything down. he was still wearing those same glasses, sliding down his nose from the sweat. he looks up at you with those big puppy eyes, tears running down his face. the sight makes you groan and shove your dick further into his throat. you thought he looked absolutely beautiful with cum streaks on his glasses.
nerdy nick who sometimes rambles too much and in these times you love teasing him. “come on, baby, tell me more,” you whispered to the back of his ear as he writhed and thrashed on your chest, pants gone and his swollen cock red and dripping as you squeezed the base. “time- time lords have two hearts, so,” he lets out a pathetic whine, “so the doctor never dies, he—mmnghh—they instead regenerate into a new body-AH-“ you squeeze and dug your thumb into his leaking tip. his chest heaves and he pants like a dog. “fu—uck, please, please, please. i wann- i wanna cum, oh please.” you think he deserves it so you quicken your strokes and let him cum. his mouth releasing unintelligible noises while those beautiful blue eyes go cross eyed.
nerdy nick who becomes your person and who you will go to endless comic cons with, watch a new series with, and who eventually will turn you into an even bigger nerd than he is😩🤞🏼
a/n: i wrote this without pause wtf
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lowgothree · 3 months
Text
005. ༺WORDS ARE EMPTY AIR༻∘
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a/n: i ate THE best cookie today and i just wanted to share that with the class
summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.
contents: reader is even more down bad (ik who thought that was possible??). paige pining after an ex situationship. kinda angsty.
previous. next. masterlist.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
she is cruel, she is beautiful, she is impossible to ignore. she is annoying and addicting and warm. you had assumed your night with paige would be a one off but that couldn’t be anything further from the truth. pent up is the only way to describe the insatiable way paige acts towards you. when either of you get home after a long day, she’s all over you –– kissing you, touching you, making you feel better than you ever had before, cuddling you during the afterglow before she goes back to her friendly attitude like nothing ever happened. 
but even then, she still looked at you with a certain hunger. or maybe you’re just delusional. 
you could only assume paige had a tough day considering how tense she was as she shut the door behind her. you give her a cautious “hey” that she doesn’t respond to, the millisecond she notices you in the kitchen she meets you there. you stare at her a little confused by her silence but then she’s kissing away the confusion, hot and starving. she’s too confident in the way her mouth moves against yours. as if she’d been kissing you for years or like the only air she could breathe was what was in your lungs. she pushes your body against the countertop, it’s cold. but she lets her warm hands reach under your shirt to feel the bare skin of your waist and the temperature contrast makes you shudder. 
she pulls away from the kiss to whisper back in a soft, out of breath tone. “hey…i missed you today.”
it’s candid. unable to be underplayed or considered inscrutable. she means it and you almost tumble over, unable to contain the sheepish smile that coats your lips. “did you?”
paige just nods. “could barely think about anything else…”
your stomach fills with something akin to butterflies, it makes you sick how easily her words could change your entire mood. words are just empty air but hers are caramelized and chocolate covered.
“except your body.” she adds and you can actually feel all the butterflies die. well, damn. though her not wanting you in the exact way you wanted her stung, you had to admit that the sex was the best good. which is why when she leans in to whisper in your ear you shiver and clench your thighs together…because you already know what’s coming. “i want you.”
three words that make your whole body shut down despite how many times you’ve heard them before. she kisses up your neck like routine, she knows your sweet spot like the back of her hand. you tremble against her, shutting your eyes and trying hard to think about anything that’s not the way you truly feel about her.
“so have me…” you mumble, something in between a moan and a whimper, it’s pathetic how quick you melt for her. she smirks into your skin, pulling your shirt off and kissing your collarbone. 
then her phone rings from her back pocket and she groans, releasing her lips from your skin. you whine as she pulls away and she kisses your jaw before checking her phone. she reads the text message and groans again. “shit, sorry baby. i gotta go…” she doesn’t look up from her phone as she speaks this and for like the millionth time, it kills you.
“oh…” you mumble, pushing your body away from the pressure of the counter top and putting your shirt back on. she tries to meet your eyes but you’re dead set on not looking at her as you stuff your arms back through the holes of your shirt.
“come on…don’t be like that.” paige sighs, hand rubbing your thigh slowly which makes your breath hitch. her warmth spreads all over you, her skin leaving a trail of goosebumps everywhere it meets yours. “you know the last thing i wanna do is leave right now. and you know i’m gonna make this up to you.”
you nod and clear your throat. “yeah no, i get it. it’s fine. i have shit to do anyway.”
she stares at you for a few moments before she kisses your cheek. kisses. your. cheek. 
nothing even remotely sexually or friendly about the gesture. it gives you pause and you have to physically restrain yourself from pulling her back up against you. 
“i will make this up to you…” she repeats again. it’s a promise and you believe her. “it’s just i forgot i promised to pick up azzi –– ” 
you nod again, smiling at her. “seriously, paige. it’s fine. you should hurry and leave.” your smile reassures her enough to actually leave albeit reluctantly. when you hear the sound of the door shut again, you groan and shuffle back to your bedroom. you throw yourself back onto your bed and shut your eyes, trying to block away all thoughts of her and you voice and her words and her hands on your –– you shake your head, groaning to yourself stop being so fucking horny. your turn over in bed, reaching for the bottle of water on your nightstand. you take a few sips and then you hear a knock at the door. weird. paige has a key.
you walk to the door and look through the peephole. sean. sighing to yourself, you open the door. 
“you are the worst.” sean walks into your apartment casually, plopping down on the couch, “ghosting me for a week like i wasn’t gonna come check on you. i hope you know if you didn’t answer the door i was seriously gonna file a missing persons.”
you snicker, sitting on the couch with him, shaking your head. “sorry, i honestly forget…i got…caught up.” yeah, ‘caught up’ in paige’s ––
“don’t bullshit me.” sean gives a look that lets you know that he sees right through you. 
you sigh, not sure where to start so you just kind of shrug and say, “i had sex with her.”
“okay…ew.” he grimaces, making you roll your eyes. he pauses when he sees no hint of being in a jokey mood on your face. his eyebrows furrow. “was she bad?”
“what?” you half chuckle and half gasp.
“you looked upset saying that. i thought you wanted her ‘real bad’?”
“yeah i –– ” do “did”. 
“...so??”
“it’s just sex.” you shrug. “nothing more or less.”
“and that’s not what you want?” he nods to himself, understanding the unspoken implications.
“it’s love-hate.” mostly hate.
“wait, i thought she was with that girl…olive or whatever.”
you snicker and shake your head. “olivia ended things with her.”
“damn, so you’re a rebound?” 
you groan to yourself. that’s definitely what you were but it was not nice to hear it.
“you probably don’t wanna hear this but…” you brace yourself for whatever he has to say, sucking in a deep breath. “maybe you should end things with her. before you get too attached.”
you bite your tongue, nodding in his direction. you don’t say the unfortunate truth that lies at the tip of your tongue. you don’t tell him it’s too late. you don’t mention that you’re already attached and that you’re not acknowledging it out of fear of rocking the boat. you don’t tell your best friend how you’re falling for a girl who’s probably in love with someone else.
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pb524830 · 3 months
Text
anyone else
part: 3 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 3.3k c/w: slight mention of blood, language a/n: hi guys! so sorry this is probably much later than you expected, i've just been so busy with school and other stuff. here's part 3. let me know what ideas you guys have for other fics and what you might want to see :)
OCTOBER 2020
Ava you good?     8:24 PM
Yo I’m waiting at mine       8:43 PM
Avaaaa      8:46 PM
I’m going crazy thinking about you dude      8:52 PM
I’m serious         8:52 PM
Don’t leave me hanging like this      8:52 PM
I read over Paige’s messages tiredly. I feel so incredibly stupid. How many times has she used these lines on girls? Probably more than she can count. I nearly laugh out loud. Poor Paige, I think to myself. Keeping track of a roster like that while being such a shitty person must be hard. The hatred is bubbling in my chest, angry and scorching. It pushes me to my feet, out my door, and to Audrey’s room.
Before I know what I’m doing, I knock on the door, plastering a smile on my face. “Hey, what’s up?” Aubrey says brightly when she opens her door. “Nothing much. Who was that, though?” Audrey smiles sheepishly. “Swear you won’t tell anyone?” She asks. My heart pounds painfully. Paige had asked me to keep quiet about us hanging out, too. I nod nonetheless. “It was Paige Bueckers.”
I knew that. I knew that. But somehow, hearing it out loud hurts even worse. “How-how did y’all meet?” She giggles, covering her mouth. “Okay, you remember that night we were at the gym? Doing serve-receive? Like last month?” I nod, the thudding in my chest suffocating me now. “She ran into me and she just, like, asked for my snap. And she’s hot so I gave it to her.”
The night she walked me home. The same night she told me I was pretty and told me that my smile was beautiful. 
She played me.
“Was she good?” I ask bluntly, my voice foreign to my own ears. Aubrey’s eyes widen. “Uh, yeah? Like, really good. Oh, my God - she did this thing with her tongue...” There’s a roaring in my ears all of a sudden.
She fucking played me.
“Avantika? Are you okay?” I nod, too wrapped up in my own thoughts and back away, stumbling back to my room. Had I liked her that much? Why does it hurt this bad? I glance around my room, my eyes landing on an article of clothing. Her hoodie. A UConn basketball hoodie. She’d given it to me after walking me home from practice one night.
She’d come to the volleyball gym just to walk me home. She told me I looked good in her clothes, but that I’d look better in her bed.
I’d slept in it for three days straight after. 
I want to burn it now.
NOVEMBER 2021
The surprise party is at Paige’s apartment. I haven’t been there in over a year. But I find myself standing in front of her door, too nervous to knock. Which doesn’t make any sense, obviously. There’s no reason to be nervous; it’s just like any other party. I’m dressed in a strappy green tank top and cargo pants, my hair down and curly. Taking a deep breath, I rap on the door with my knuckles.
Paige opens it. My breath catches, and I hate that it does. She’s in a pair of blue shorts and a sports bra, drying her hair with a towel. Her hand drops to her side, towel in hand, when she sees me. “Avantika, hi.” I smile slightly. “Hey,” I reply. “Am I early? I didn’t wanna be late, so-”
“Nah, ur good. You can help set up, actually,” she tells me, shuffling to the side to let me in. Her apartment looks the same as I remember. I catch a glimpse of her familiar, ludicrous purple bed sheets through her cracked room door. I turn to her, inhaling deeply. “What can I help with?” I ask, holding out my present for Azzi. Her eyes linger on me, trailing over my body as she takes the gift in one hand and continues drying her hair with the other. “I blew up balloons, but I didn’t string them together yet. You mind?” 
She sets the present on the counter, hopping up onto it. Her legs dangle off the edge, spread wide as she watches me string together balloons that say ‘Happy Birthday’. She fishes a dab pen out of her pocket and takes a hit. “You want?” She asks. I glance at her, shaking my head. She shrugs, tipping her head back to release the smoke. My eyes draw to her jawline, fingers going slack. I curse myself for still letting her have this effect on me. Her head lolls back forward, catching me staring. I see her mouth twitch into a smirk, ever so slightly, before she clears her throat. “You all good there?” She asks, gesturing to the balloon garland I’m supposed to be helping with.
I laugh shakily. “No, yeah. All good.” Paige shakes her head, grinning. “Here, I’ll do it. There’s a package in my bedroom with streamers. Go grab it?” I roll my eyes, handing the balloons and string over to her. “You remember which one it is?” She hums, eyes flicking to mine. My mouth twitches. I nod wordlessly.
The silence is so suffocating. I’m not used to being alone with her - at least, not anymore. I hate that her presence is still so intoxicating, that there’s still this undeniable force pulling me to her. I hate the way she laughs and the way she talks and the way she looks at me.
I get in and out of her room as quickly as possible, snatching the Amazon package off of her bed. I grab a knife from the kitchen to slice through the tape, but I’m so distracted that I accidentally slash my own finger. I hiss in pain, dropping the knife onto the counter with a clatter. “Fuck,” I whisper agitatedly, Paige’s head whipping up. “Avantika?” She asks. “All good,” I say, turning away from her, holding my finger to my chest, trying not to get blood on my top. It’s really flowing now, in rivets down my finger, pooling in my palm.
“Yo, Avantika,” Paige says, turning me towards her by my shoulder. “Oh, shit,” she breathes, grabbing my hand. “Okay, wait, it’s fine-” I try to get out, but Paige already has my finger in her mouth. My eyes widen as she licks away the blood, walking me backwards with her to rummage around a kitchen drawer. “Paige!” I say. She shoots me a look, taking my finger out of her mouth and wiping at her lips with the back of her hand. She fishes out a bandaid and an alcohol wipe. 
“I can do it-”
“Hush.”
I shut up immediately, watching as Paige cleans my cut, shaking her head when I hiss at the sting of the alcohol swab. She tears at the bandaid package with her teeth and applies it smoothly, wrapping it tightly around my finger. “How’d you even manage that?” She muses. I narrow my eyes at her, snatching her hand away. “It was very strategic, actually, I wanted to slice my hand open-”
“Clearly-”
“What are you, fuckin’ pre-med now?” I demand.
“Might have to be, if you can’t take care of yourself,” she laughs, shoving me lightly.
I shove her back, smiling back at her. I can’t help it.
Her eyes meet mine. “No ‘thank you'?” She asks.
I scoff. “You put a bandaid on me,” I ridicule.
Paige’s eyes widen. “I could’ve let you bleed to death,” she says.
I gape. “You are so dramatic-”
“And you’re ungrateful as hell, come here,” she complains, grabbing at my waist and pulling me against her more or less bare torso, hands going to my sides to tickle me. I shriek with laughter, fighting at her, clutching at her hands to pull her away from me. But Paige is relentless, hands going everywhere, ordering me, “Say thank you! Say thank you and I’ll stop!” 
“No shot!” I gasp, eyes welling with tears of laughter, trying to ignore the scent of strawberries that invades my nostrils. 
“Say it!�� She demands, an arm winding all the way around my torso to hold me against her as I fight harder. 
“Yo, why the fuck is nothing set up?” I hear a voice demand. Paige’s hold loosens, but doesn’t relax. Her arms hang limply from my body, and when I see Evina standing indignantly in front of us, I shove her away. Paige clears her throat, backing up.
“Hi, Evina,” I say, my tone suddenly solemn. “Hi, E,” Paige says. She at least has the sense to look sheepish.
“Well, if y’all are done fucking around, Caroline’s about to drive Azzi back. Let’s get it together,” she commands, clapping her hands. Paige and I snap into motion, finishing up the decorations and hanging them up in a relatively organized fashion.
The party goes smoothly - Azzi does a good job of acting surprised, though I’m sure she’s well aware of what the girls were going to do in the first place. We cut cake and load her up with presents, before Paige calls for a round of shots.
And that’s when the night really takes off.
Soon enough, Paige has made some sort of insinuation that she can drink better than me, and I’m going shot for shot with her. She’s really putting me through it, knowing just how to push my competitive nature. Me, her, and Azzi begin alternating between vodka and tequila. We’re about 5 shots in before Aubrey and Christyn challenge Paige and Azzi to a game of beer pong. Azzi shakes her head adamantly. “If Paige loses because of me, I’ll never live it down,” she insists. “Ava will go!”
I protest immediately when Azzi pushes me towards the table, Paige in hot pursuit. “No way! I’m not playing beer pong with a bunch of basketball players,” I say indignantly. Suddenly, I feel Paige’s breath hot on my ear, and her hand at my hip. “Hey, I got you, okay? Trust.” Her voice sends shivers through me, and I feel my eyelids flutter. Damn her. I elbow her ever so slightly, shooting her a grin. She smirks back. 
Paige dips a ping-pong ball into a cup full of beer on our side, shooting it to theirs. It swirls into their middle cup, and she hands me the other one. I mimic her actions, making it into the cup at the tip of their triangle. We get the balls back, and Paige makes another shot, holding up a 3 on her hand when it plops into a cup at the corner of their triangle. I giggle at Christyn and Aubrey’s annoyed expressions, staggering into Paige. She braces her hands on my shoulders, her chest vibrating with laughter. “You good?” she laughs. I look up at her, her stark blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes, her perpetual smirk. “Yeah,” I breathe. “You want help with this shot?” She asks.
Paige doesn’t give me time to respond before she turns me around, wrapping her arms around me to position my arms, then flicking my wrist for me. The ball lands in their middle cup, and the other two girls groan, reaching for the cups to chug them. I expect Paige to move away from me, to drop my arms the second I’ve made the shot. But her hold lingers, an arm looped around my waist as she laughs, jeering at Christyn and Aubrey, tossing them the balls out of pity. Her arms stay around me, my head leaning back against her chest, hands lingering on her arms, swaying to the music I’m too drunk to recognize, dancing with the girl I’m too drunk to push away. She doesn’t remove her arms from around me until she has to shoot again.
I don’t remember who loses or wins that game of beer pong. I remember the taste of beer in my throat. I remember Paige’s voice in my ear - “Shot of Pink Whit?” I remember Azzi giggling as she leads me into the kitchen, her arms linked with mine as we down the shot of pink liquid. 
I remember Paige’s eyes hot on mine, her gaze challenging and curious. 
I walk up to her, holding out a shot of Pink Whitney. “Drink,” I command. Paige takes the shot from me, not breaking eye contact. She tips it back down her throat, straight-faced, and then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
Fuck, she’s hot.
I clap gleefully, spinning away, but she catches at my waist, pulling me into her. “Avantika,” she murmurs. I cock my head. “Paige?” I ask. My heart is beating out of my chest, and I’m so drunk I don’t even realize how close we are. “Are you okay?” She asks sincerely. I nod happily, looping my arms around her neck. “Are you sure?” She repeats. I close my eyes, tipping my head back and laughing. “You don’t have to pretend to care about me,” I slur, lolling my head back towards her.
I must be drunk. I must be, because that’s not a flash of hurt that flits across her face. It can’t be. 
So I continue.
“I mean, you never really cared about me, did you?” I scoff, hanging off of her neck. Her brow furrows. “Avantika, what are you-”
“You just wanted to have sex with me…” I say sadly, pouting, tracing her face with my finger. Paige’s eyes widen.
“It’s okay. I wanted to have sex with you, too,” I admit, shrugging, tapping my finger against her lips. Paige shakes her head. “Avantika, you’re drunk,” she says. My hands trail down to rest on her chest. “No, I’m not,” I say indignantly.
“You are.”
“No, you are,” I retort, getting frustrated.
“Ava-”
I push her away immediately. “Do not fucking call me that,” I spit. She holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she tries to amend, reaching for me again. I stagger away. “No, fuck you,” I snap. “Avantika, you’re so drunk right now. Please, just come lie down.”
She’s pleading with me. I hesitate. “Please,” she begs again, holding a hand out.
I hesitate. “Okay,” I whisper, taking her hand. She pulls me into her chest, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. We stumble through the apartment, the din of conversation in music echoing faintly in the background. Dimly, I hear Azzi’s concerned voice cut through the haze. “Is she okay?” Paige nods. “She was trying to keep up with me,” she explains. “And you let her?” Azzi demands. “Look, I’m sorry-”
“Put her to bed in your room. And no funny business. She’s my friend.”
“Whatever, Azzi.”
Before I know it, Paige’s soft bedspread is tickling my nose. “Avantika, you want water?” She asks. I stretch out, nodding sleepily. “Here, sit up.” I let Paige feed me water, her fingers fumbling with the cap of the bottle. Then she lays me back down. “Sleep, okay?” She turns to walk out the door.
And then, like it has a mind of its own, my mouth opens. “Paige?” I whisper. She turns around immediately. “Will you stay?” I ask softly.
Wordlessly, she climbs into bed with me, kicking off her shoes. She wraps her arms around me, pulling me against her body, and I let her, breathing her scent in, happy that I get to touch her. I snuggle into her, too drunk to care about the implications of how close we are or what we were doing the last time we were both on this bed.
“Paige,” I say quietly. “Hm?” I shift to look up at her, tracing the line of her nose with my eyes. “I don’t actually hate you,” I mumble. She laughs. “You better go to sleep before you say something you regret,” she murmurs. I blink, not fully understanding her words. But I nestle against her chest, letting my arm loop around her waist.
“Avantika?” She asks after a few minutes. I don’t respond. I feel her hand tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Ava,” she repeats, more firmly. I still don’t answer, too tired to move my mouth, humming softly.
Her breath whistles against my forehead when she says what she says next.
 “God, I missed you.”
NOVEMBER 2020
“Ava.”
It’s just after a tough loss to Georgetown, and I’m exhausted. As soon as I exit the gym, though, Paige is waiting for me. I have no idea how she’s managed to get anywhere near the volleyball locker rooms.
I deliberately ignore her, brushing past her.
“Ava, come on, talk to me!” She calls, jogging after me.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I say shortly, walking faster.
“You owe me an explanation,” Paige pants, catching up to me and grabbing my arm. She spins me around to face her. “Why haven’t you answered my texts?” She demands. There’s a hint of hurt in her voice. There’s purple under her eyes. 
Fuck her.
“Didn’t even realize you’d texted me,” I say casually. 
Her eyes narrow. “That’s bullshit and we both know it.” 
I shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe I just don’t think about you as much as you think about me,” I say, rolling my eyes. She looks taken aback. The truth is I’ve thought about her every single day since that night about a week ago. I’ve replayed every moment, every touch, every word of everything she’s ever done or said to me in my head. And then I remember her leaning in to kiss Audrey. The way she cupped her face. The way she grabbed her waist and pulled her in. The way she smiled that heartbreaking smile against her lips before she pulled away.
Paige recovers from her shock quickly, reaching for me again. I step back away from her.
“Ava,” she tries again.
It hurts to hear her say that. That name for me that only she’s ever called me, and it’d only been a couple of months, but this girl had made her way into my head and my heart.
“Don’t call me that,” I tell her coldly.
“What?” She asks, stepping closer again.
“I said don’t call me that. Are you deaf?” I demand. I know I’m being rude. Mean, even. I don’t care. I need her as far away from me as possible.
Hurt flashes across her features.
“Matter of fact, don’t text me at all,” I say, disgust lacing my tone. I force it there.
“Why the fuck are you acting like this? You were all over me a week ago, just begging me to fuck you-” Her voice is raising, but mine can, too.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, you piece of shit,” I snap at her.
“You know what, you’re being such a bitch right now-” She accuses, her features twisting with annoyance.
“It’s not my fault you can’t take a fucking hint,” I sneer.
She crowds my space, towering over me, leaning down slightly to snarl against my face.
“And what was the hint I was supposed to take, hm?” Her voice is quiet, but there’s anger in her tone, dripping into me in the way her breath hits my face. She’s so close, her scent so intoxicating, that I just want to give in. “Was the hint that you were stripping for me in my bed? Or that you were moaning my name? Which one was it, Avantika?”
I slap her. Not hard, just enough that she stumbles back. Her hand flies to her cheek, eyes widening in shock. 
“I don’t want you,” I say coolly. Liar, liar, liar.
“So leave me the fuck alone.”
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winns-stuff · 5 months
Text
LO RANT:
TRIGGER WARNING: SA
Okay I’m back again and it’s only to say this.. The comments on the new fastpass are genuinely disgusting. I don’t care how you put it or feel about both characters it’s absolutely deranged to ship or want a redemption arc for a rapist, maybe I’m being too harsh but I can’t find soft words to use for this. The fact that there’s so many people girlbossing this entire situation as a “I got the entire lineage on my shoulders!!! I slept with the brothers and the father!!!!” thing is weird to me because these fans are all missing the point of Hera’s entire story and it makes no sense that as I’m ALWAYS saying these fans are quite literally shipping rapists with their victims when the entire point of Lore Olympus was to shed light and bring awareness to Sexual Assault that is not violent or gruesome in physical action.
And we all know why this is happening, Rachel doesn’t know how to properly handle this situation and it’s clear that that’s how this is coming across to her fans. They don’t see this as a rape survivor story they see this as another dark romance since she doesn’t bother on actually addressing the assault in a respectful and dignified way, every single time she adds another sexual assault in her story she’s always glamorizing it or diminishing it whenever she gets tired of writing about it and it’s infuriating. Your fans should know better than to ship victims with their abusers and you wanna know why? Because you pride your comic on healthy relationships and mental health talks, you use the sexual assault as some kind of badge to show everyone that you know what you’re talking about when it’s clear that you will abandon all real representation of a situation that affects millions of people around the world just for crappy fan service.
Lore Olympus fans are groomed to dismiss these arcs since they’re not even treated like they’re serious and it doesn’t seem like Rachel takes it serious as well, she’s never taken any advice from survivors who aren’t pleased with how she portrays SA and she completely ignores the feelings of those truly affected by the traumatic events that she shoves into her webcomic just so it’ll stay “interesting”. I’m tired of Rachel getting away with drawing absolute trauma porn and I’m sick of her sexualizing every single woman we come across, how many times do we have to continue this long and excruciating pattern of giving the women of your comic terrible consequences and make them suffer just for drama and nothing else. How many other situations are you willing to completely spit on just to look self aware?
This is honestly the last straw because there’s been so many people genuinely shipping Hera and Kronos and also saying borderline disgusting things just to defend stuff like that. Rachel needs to say something, you cannot just sit back and be quiet while your fans openly admit to wanting to see a rapist and his victim together for the sake of your own comic and “beloved” main character hell even for a lot of your fans you need to speak up about this and address it letting a mindset like that fester in a fandom probably filled with survivors of assault is a disservice to them and it’s a slap in the face to the comfort that your webtoon gave them.
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quin-ns · 11 months
Note
hey ! may i request some fluff with ethan landry where he thinks she’s asleep so he whispers i love you to her but she was actually awake? (can either be established relationship or not) you can decide how she reacts :))
im so glad i found your blog because you write for many of the things that i like and it honestly felt like i hit jackpot seeing your masterlist. feel free to turn down this request/change it up !!hope u are having a good day/night <3
aw well I’m happy you found me! 🫶
writing this as a quick drabble/ficlet bc I like the idea but can’t think of a whole fic lol- enjoy!
Whispers (Ethan Landry x Reader)
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You weren’t going to the party at first, but all of your friends were going and you didn’t wanna feel left out.
Getting drunk wasn’t exactly the plan either. However, you were already getting your ass kicked by classes and you wanted to let loose.
Your friends encouraged you as they did the same, all of you keeping an eye on each other.
Except, you got a bit too far ahead and ended up having to leave your friends Tara and Mindy behind on the dance floor (aka, the frat house living room floor). You ended up on a couch nearby and closed your eyes, trying to zone out and not focus on the headache-inducing music.
Did it have to be so loud?
You felt someone sit down next to you and you heard a familiar voice ask you a question.
“You alright?”
You didn’t have to look to know it was your friend Ethan. You could tell his voice anywhere, the two of you were pretty close. You and Ethan liked a lot of the same stuff and it was easy to talk to him about pretty much anything.
You met him a while ago and coincidentally, his roommate was the brother to your friend Mindy. You all ended up hanging out in a group after realizing that.
“A little too drunk,” you admitted, your head lolling to the side. You opened yours eyes and found him watching you curiously. “And very tired.”
“If you’re tired I can walk you back to your place.”
You made a noise of disapproval.
“It’s so far off campus, I’d rather just sleep here.”
Sinking into the couch felt like a really good idea.
“My dorm isn’t that far,” Ethan suggested with a shy smile. “Chad won’t care and it’s a weekend so you don’t gotta worry about class.”
You did take him up on that offer.
“You’re so sweet,” you told him as the two of you entered his apartment. You laughed to yourself, feeling quite lightheaded. “And cute.”
Ethan smiled at that. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, but it’s a secret, so shhh,” you told him. You had a pretty huge crush on him, but you’d tried to keep it under wraps in order to maintain your friendship. But your words were coming out before you could stop them.
God, you were tired.
“Well, you’re pretty cute too,” Ethan said, then quickly changed topics when you didn’t respond right away. “You can take my bed, I’ll crash in the chair.”
He pointed towards a sad little beat up recliner.
You snorted. “No way, we can share.”
Ethan and Chad didn’t have bunk beds, so it was easy to kick off your shoes and climb into his bed. Another day you might’ve been more graceful, but it looked so comfortable and you couldn’t resist. Ethan did the same, not even changing into pajamas.
The two of you laid side by side and you tried to bite back a smile at the thought of being in bed with Ethan.
You rolled to the side, facing the wall, and closed your eyes. You were insanely exhausted and drunk, and really, really wanted to sleep.
“Goodnight, Ethan,” you mumbled to him. “And thanks for this.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he responded. There was a moment of silence where you thought he was going to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he just said, “Goodnight.”
You started to drift off to sleep, getting comfortable. Maybe ten minutes passed and you should’ve been asleep, but you weren’t.
“Are you awake?” Ethan asked softly.
You were right on the edge of falling asleep finally and you knew if you started talking, that would never happen. Whatever he had to say, you two could talk about it tomorrow.
“I guess you are asleep… and now I’m just talking to myself.” Ethan laughed a little and you tried not to smile. “That’s okay, you need sleep. I just wanted to say… I’m glad you trust me and that I can be here for you. I like being your friend, and I—I like you, y’know?”
It was quiet for a long moment. Your breathing remained steady and you thought maybe he’d closed his eyes and drifted off.
Instead, he rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm over your body.
“I really like you, actually. Like I lot… as more than just a friend,” Ethan continued in a whisper. You could feel his heart racing against your back and you tried to not let on that you were awake. “Maybe even love you, but that’s crazy, right? We’re not even dating and I think I’m in love with you…
You really wanted to open your eyes, but you didn’t want to embarrass him. He’d just poured his heart out, it didn’t seem like the right move to surprise him.
“I’ll tell you for real someday, if I can ever get the courage to ask you out.”
You hoped that was a promise that Ethan could keep. You liked him too—a lot—and hopefully that day he’d ask you out would come soon. You really wanted to see how things would go because you had a feeling that you could be in love him too.
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rosepeta1z · 4 months
Text
A slice of sweets
A/N: this is a very very late happy birthday fic to Wanderer/Scaramouche. Fluff, you call him Scaramouche, small tiny tiny mention of throwing up and gagging. I think that’s it.
Word count: 853 words
Scaramouche hates sweets, but for you, he’s willing to suffer and try.
Today was Scaramouche birthday.
It was just another normal day for him. To him, there was no reason to celebrate his birthday. It was no big deal, especially to him. It was just a waste of his time. He had other things to do. If anything, he just wanted peace and quiet for the whole day.
That would be his birthday wish.
So, why were the students in the akademiya bothering him and trying to give him sweets and cake?
He almost gagged when a poor student went up to him when he was just hiding out in the wild and gave him a small sweet. Anyone could tell it was so sickeningly sweet. He simply gave the sweet a grimaced look and shook his head, giving her the small sweet back.
“I don’t do sweets. Take it for yourself, I don’t need or want it.”
The girl that was trying to be nice gave him a sad look, simply nodding her head and walking away seemingly embarrassed.
Maybe he was a bit too straightforward, but he just couldn’t stand sweets! There was nothing in the world that could make him eat them.
Hours passed by, and the same thing would happen over and over again. People from the akademiya would somehow find him and offer him the same thing over and over again.
Sweets, cake, sweet, cake. He felt like throwing up just by how many times he had to smell and look at the sugar filled stuff they gave him. That, and the fact it was starting to really annoy him now.
—-
After all of that, he finally found a place he could sit and just relax. It was a big tree that gave a nice shadow that cooled him down a bit. It was refreshing and relaxing. This, was his birthday wish.
….
Or was it really? He laid his hat on the side and stared at the sky in deep thoughts.
Were birthday wishes even true? I mean, sure, peace and quiet seem nice. But that’s not his actual wish.
His actual wish was to spend more time with you. You were one of the students in the akademiya, and he was quite fond of you. Unlike the others. You talked a lot, but you didn’t talk a lot where to the point you would blow his ear off from how much you’d talk. You talked the perfect amount, your choice of words fascinated him, the way you talk, the way you look when you talk. Everything about you was perfect to him.
He chuckled at his own thoughts. When did he start thinking about stuff like this? He wasn’t used to it.
Right when he was deep in thought, he heard a branch crack near him. He glanced around him before his eyes laid on a figure. It was you? How’d you find him? Before he could collect himself you walked up to him with a sweet smile on your face. The smile that he secretly loved to see everyday.
“Hey, Scaramouche! Happy birthday, I heard from the other students that you were around here so I thought I’d stop by to give you my own little gift for you!”
You presented him a small case of a slice of cake. It seemed sweet. Too sweet.
But how could he give up a cake you gave him? There’s no possible way that he could.
He stared at the cake, then at you, then at the cake once again. He cleared his throat and managed to crack a small smile before raising his hands to take the cake from you.
“Oh, cake? …Thanks. I’ll be sure to eat it. Though, you really didn’t need to do this much for my simple ‘birth’. It’s not necessary one bit.” He muttered, he bit back what he wanted to say about sweets and how much he hated them. But for you, he’ll accept it. But, don’t expect him to actually eat it. Nope.
“Nonsense, I did it because you’re my friend and I care about you! So much so that I made a cake for you. How about you try it? I wanna know what you think about it.” You happily said as you took a seat down right next to him. You seemed more happier than him for his birthday.
“Eat? This cake?” He so desperately wanted to say ‘absolutely not’, but…for you.. he guesses he could make an acceptation just to see you happy. Even though he hated sweets with a burning passion.
He didn’t want to waste any more time stalling, so he quickly took a bite of the cake and swallowed it as quickly as he could so he couldn’t get that taste of awfully sweet sugar. He almost gagged but put on a straight face for you.
Your eyes sparkled when you saw him try it and give a thumbs up. He knew it would be worth it.
At the end of the day, he did managed to spend more time with you and form a stronger bond. It turns out, birthday wishes do come true.
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yurislotusgarden · 7 months
Note
Hii! could I request ranpo and chuuya with a fem s/o who makes cute bento boxes for their lunch at work? (I was curious on how this would go, feel free to add any details you want!)
My bento!
ʚїɞ Separately! Nakahara Chuuya, Ranpo Edogawa, Sigma x F!Reader
ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!
ʚїɞ word count: 1764 (Chuuya - 537, Ranpo - 664, Sigma - 561)
ʚїɞ Have Sigma as an extra bcs my ass forgot it was meant to be Ranpo instead of him after I was done with Chuuya's part
ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, pet names are used (barely), reader’s gender is not specified that much
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Nakahara Chuuya!
ཐིཋྀ He loves the bentos so much, well more like the fact that you take time to make them for him
ཐིཋྀ Tries to always eat them
ཐིཋྀ Once, when you started making them, he didn’t eat the food because he was so busy that day, and when he had a little free time, Chuuya decided it was a better idea to go on a stress smoke break (He tries to limit smoking to the minimum he can if you don’t like smoking/the fact that he does it. He knows it’s because you care about his health)
ཐིཋྀ It ended with you fussing over him eating almost nothing that day and he doesn’t like causing you stress or making you worry so he makes sure to eat those bentos😭
ཐིཋྀ He may be an executive but this man is not embarrassed at all to eat those bentos in front of people, no matter how colorful or cutesy the food looks
ཐིཋྀ Food is food, he’s not gonna not eat cause you to worry just because the bento is one that doesn’t look like someone like him would eat
///////////////
“Lad, may I ask where do you get those bentos from?”
It was a long time since Kouyou noticed Chuuya’s bentos, and she tried to ignore just how much she wanted to try one. The only reason why she didn’t is because she doesn’t know where he is getting them from.
The young woman looked at many shops in Yokohama and saw a few places with similar bentos, but it was easy to see that none of the stores were the ones where Chuuya kept getting his lunch from.
…She really wanted one for herself, especially with how obvious it was that they were delicious, kept quiet about it tho.
Chuuya turned towards the older woman, whom he came to see as an older sister over the years.
“They’re not bought from a shop.”
“You don’t buy them?”
“Not a single one of them. Actually,-”
Kouyou was confused. Where did he get a bento from every single day? She knows the younger of the two probably wouldn’t bother spending his free time making food for lunch definitely a day before, even if he did, it wouldn’t be so colorful or detailed. There were even rice balls decorated as bears and stuff, it obviously took time to make one. But if he wasn’t buying them,  then the only other option that came to her mind was-
“- [Name] makes them for me.”
“She does?”
“Yeah, and she’s yet to make one I dislike.”
It all makes sense now to the red-haired woman. You have more free time most of the time compared to Chuuya, and you were probably aware of the eating habits he had before.
The fact that you take time, quite a lot it seems if Kouyou was to guess, the bentos are even detailed, in a very cute style if she was to say, made a smile appear on her face.
“Mhm, you wanna try?”
“How could I refuse such an offer?”
The food was even better than she thought. Kouyou made a mental note to ask you if you would have a problem with making two bentos from time to time.
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Edogawa Ranpo!
ཐིཋྀ Another reason as to why he’s dating you -you give extra homemade sweets to the Bentos-
ཐིཋྀ He doesn’t even need to try to remember to eat it because he ends up eating it before lunch anyway -the reason behind you making more than one bento usually-
ཐིཋྀ He fucking boasts to everyone about the food😭
ཐིཋྀ “See what I have here? HAHA! Something you don’t and probably never will!” ← totally not Ranpo to anyone else -and totally not him to Dazai and Atsushi about the fact that they will probably never have homemade food like him-
ཐིཋྀ Don’t make the bentos with him in the kitchen unless you have prepared double the amount of food you plan to use. He uses any opportunity to snack on the not-ready-yet bentos
ཐིཋྀ BUT! He will share with you if he notices you’re hungry or just generally wanna eat it <3
///////////////
“C’mon give me just a little piece!”
“Nope! [Name] made it for me! Make your own if you want a bento at work, Yosano-san!”
“I can’t make such a bento Ranpo-san!”
“Not my problem!”
With a pout, the brunette turned his chair away, trying to eat his food in peace. It’s one of his favorite bentos! You put his favorites in this one! The only thing he doesn’t like in it is the veggies which Ranpo would ignore or throw out but he knows that he won’t get his favorite candy made by you anytime soon if he does (the others will snitch if he throws them out, especially Dazai and Yosano they did that the one and only time he did so. He learned a lesson from that after you didn’t cook his favorite like you said you would that morning)
Ranpo could practically feel the eye-roll done by Yosano. “It’s not like it’s the only bento you had today.” It’s true, he ate a similar one 2 hours earlier. “Doesn’t matter. It’s my bento either way.” A sigh came from the woman.
And right when one would think his problem was solved, another arrived. 
“Ranpo-san! What an interesting bento you have there!”
“Go away Dazai. I’m not giving you a single piece of my food!”
“Oh c’mon! You can spare a little!”
“Nope! Especially not when it’s [Name]’s cooking!”
Seriously, can’t they leave him alone? He knows your cooking is good, everyone at the agency knows that! But he wishes that you’d never let Dazai taste your food. The bandaged man has horrible eating habits, you both know that, and yet he always tries to get his hands on Ranpo’s bentos. The audacity!
Ranpo could tell that Dazai's annoying mouth was about to open again before someone interrupted him.
"I can make bentos for you too if you like them so much, Dazai-san"
Isn't that his angel who came to visit him at his oh-so-tiring job? Lovely timing, if Ranpo was to say, but there was one problem.
Among ‘hello’s and ‘hi’s from others upon noticing you, gasps could be heard, from 2 men specifically.
"You would do that for me?!"
"Excuse me?!"
What is this?! There's no way that you’re gracing anyone else with the perfection that are your his bentos!
“Hm?” It’s easy to see for anyone in the room that you were confused.
“[Name]-chan, if you could be so nice, could I ask for a bento with cra-”
“No no no! Shut up Dazai! She’s not making you any bentos! In your dreams!”
In the end, while Ranpo and Dazai at first thought that you wouldn’t make the taller brunette a bento after your conversation at that moment, you indeed did as a surprise. 
The best detective in the world didn’t like that but he allowed you to after bribing him and reminding him that if you can get Dazai to eat, you will, no matter if Ranpo will allow you to make a bento for him or not.
Dazai's happy scream the next day could probably be heard throughout the whole building.
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Sigma!
ཐིཋྀ He didn’t think he’d be able to adore you more than he already does, and yet you found a way to make him do so
ཐིཋྀ He tries to eat the bentos every day but it isn’t that rare that he forgets about eating altogether when faced with a mountain of paperwork or problems in the casino
ཐིཋྀ He loves how they look and taste. He, at one point, will ask if you can teach him how to cook. Like not even necessarily a bento, just to learn since he doesn’t want the kitchen to end up in flames one day, he’s aware he sucks at cooking
ཐིཋྀ He probably would be a little embarrassed by eating it. Not because of how colorful or cutesy they are, but because of the looks he gets from people who see it. 
ཐིཋྀ The stares aren’t criticizing or anything, others just don’t expect that their boss/the manager of the casino would eat food that looks like that
ཐིཋྀ Someone was probably jealous because he has homemade bentos like that and they have some store-bought sandwiches 💀
///////////////
“It’s mine actually. Sorry, I forgot to take this from here earlier.”
The man standing in front of the bar was shocked.
He’s been sitting there and drinking not too much for some time now. At one point he noticed the bartender taking out a bento from under the bar, the lid see-through enough to see the food inside. He has to say, the detail and overall look were very cute, it definitely took time to make it look so.
The man had thought that the bento was made by someone for the bartender (In his mind it was a fair thought as he didn’t think that one could buy a bento like that anywhere close to a place like this. Especially if you work there).
The slightly shorter man changed his thought upon noticing that the bartender didn’t touch the food he had taken out (later on the lunch break he took out something else to eat)
Around 2 hours after the lunch break, -the bento still untouched, he noticed- the man decided to finally ask, curiosity winning over after all the time spent at the bar seat.
“Excuse me, who is the owner of the bento? I couldn’t help but notice that it hasn’t been touched at all.”
And he really chose the worst time to ask that question didn’t he? Right as the person to whom the bento belonged to, came.
“I-It’s yours sir?”
“Yes, why?”
How is he supposed to answer? That he didn’t think that such a cute-looking bento -that if he could he would consider stealing, it looks delicious and definitely better than his sandwich- can belong to the ever so stoic and calm manager of the sky casino?
“No reason! Was just that curious, that’s all! after all, the bento was lying here for the past, almost, 3 hours by now.”
“Ah, understandable then”
The bi-colored-haired man turned to the bartender, who was already giving the box over to him.
“Thank you for keeping it here for me, Shuichi-kun”
“no problem, Sigma-san. [Name]-san also told me to tell you-”
Yeah, the man needs a break from the confusion and shock for the next week.
And Sigma? He’s just happy you leave the bentos somewhere he can take them from when you know he’s busy.
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Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
Do not copy or translate my works on/to any site
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dakotalun · 7 months
Note
hi!! I just read both parts to your series ‘You Belong With Me’ and holy shit it’s so good!! I wanted to ask if I could request something maybe?? :)
i was thinkin something where Eddie and a super shy girl are dating. They’re only like three weeks into dating but they love each other so much. Reader’s parents fight a lot (maybe Eddie knows), and she randomly shows up on his trailer doorstep crying one day cause of it…sm fluff plz😭🙏
omg I love this prompt! I wrote this in one day because I simply couldn't stop thinking about it!!
Words: 2.2k
Eddie is the best thing to happen this year. I never thought that I would be dating the town “freak” but here I am. The only thing is that he’s not a freak, well in the ways everyone describes him as he’s not. He’s got a very sweet and loving side to him that if you just gave it time he would show.
It became apparent how much of a caring side he has when I told him about my parents.
“They hate each other! I never understood why the hell they got married in the first place. I mean if two people hate each other so much why be together?” I was ranting and pacing about the most recent argument my parents had.
“Sweets, you gotta calm down, please. Come sit,” Eddie motions for me to sit down on the bed next to him but I keep pacing, there are too many emotions for me to be still right now.
“I can’t calm down, I mean they do this all the time! They act all fine and loving around me but then once they think I’ve gone to bed they rip each other’s throats out. I can’t fucking deal with it anymore!” I can feel the tears welling up at the corner of my eyes, but I refuse to cry over them, over this.
Eddie gets up and stands in my path, “Move,” I look at him waiting but he doesn’t budge, “Eddie move. Please.”
“Nope. Not until you take a deep breath and calm down. This is too much for you right now, you just need to sit with it, trust me. If anyone knows fucked up families it’s me.”
“Don’t say that,” My heart breaks hearing him say stuff like that,  “You didn’t choose for your parents to leave you.”
“And you didn’t choose for yours to hate each other,” He places his hands on my shoulders, “If anything else happens just know that I’m here for you. If they start fighting and you need a place to crash come here, Wayne won’t mind and if he does then I’ll kick him out.”
I laugh at his joke, knowing that he would really do it if it had to be done.
“Okay,” I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him tight, “Thanks Eds. I love you.”
“Love you too honey.”
That was last week. Only last week when Eddie said I could come over any time they were fighting and I didn’t wanna hear it. So when I heard the screams come from down the hall I started getting dressed, but then I stopped. It was only last week. Was it too soon to come over and sleep at his place?
We’ve slept in the same place before but it was merely by accident, either we were watching tv in my living room and we fell asleep or we were cuddling after school and fell asleep. Never was it purposeful, until now.
Another scream comes from my parents room, followed by a crash. I have to leave. I can’t deal with this, so I continue getting dressed and pack a small bag before sneaking out of my room. The worst part is that I can’t even jump out of my window like most teens, I have to actually use the front door if I wanna leave. 
Quietly I open the door to my bedroom and slink out of it as quickly as I can without making noise. Their shouts are louder out here, no cushion protecting my ears now. This also means I can clearly hear what they are yelling about.
“DAVE I HAVE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES BEFORE-” My mom’s voice coes riquseing down the hall.
“AND I’M TELLING YOU THAT I. DON’T. CARE! WE DO NOT HAVE THE MONEY FOR IT AND THERE IS NO WAY TO GET IT!” My dad’s voice follows close behind.
“WHY NOT? IS IT BECAUSE YOU KEEP SPENDING IT ON HOOKERS AND DRUGS? ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK UP THIS FAMILY?!”
“FAMILY? FAMILY? YOU THINK THIS IS A FMAILY? THIS IS TWO HUMANS WHO HAD A KID TOGETHER FAR TOO EARLY AND NOW HAVE TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO TAKE CARE OF IT!” 
It. He referred to me as an it, not a she, or a they, or hell even a he. A fucking it! I’ve been their kid for 17 years now and they can’t even pretend to love me. I guess I was never their kid, I was just a burden for them. Well now they don’t have to worry about me.
I rush towards the steps and out the front door, not caring to be quiet anymore. I can feel the raindrops on my skin as they mix with the ever flowing tears. But I don’t care, I need to get as far away from that hell hole as I can, I need to be somewhere safe. I need Eddie.
---
I’m walking for what feels like hours, the rain now completely soaked through my clothes. My feet and hands are frozen but I can’t turn back now, I’m closer to Eddie’s than I am home anyways.
Walking through this part of town at this time of night was always peaceful, it would help me clear my head of all the things it was holding on to. The pain, anxiety and depression would slowly fade away as I walk, left, right, left, right, left, right. Until there was nothing to think of anymore, nothing to worry about.
Now, as I walk the familiar route to the trailer park, my brain can’t seem to shut up or shut off. The screams and yells from my parents flood every corner of my brain, never letting go. No matter how hard I try to get rid of them, they stick like super glue.
I look up from the sidewalk noticing the world around me getting slightly brighter than it was before. Eddie. My heart flutters at the thought of him, the way I know he will hold me and kiss my forehead. I turn into the trailer park, now only a minute away from the one I love.
I approach the doorstep and before I can knock I take a deep breath hoping it will make it less noticeable that I was crying the whole way here. But it doesn’t.
So I knock anyway. Knock, knock, knock. The sound rings through the small home like a pen dropping in an empty room. There’s shuffling on the other end and then the click of the lock. The door swings open to reveal Wayne, Eddie’s uncle. He’s standing there in his work clothes, one shoe on the other sitting by his recliner.
“Oh honey,” He steps aside and ushers me in, helping me take my coat off, “Did you walk all the way here?”
I nod, not trusting my voice just yet. Eddie calls from the other room, “Who is it? I just ordered pizza so it really shouldn’t be here ye-” He talks as he walks out of his room, cups and plates sitting in his hand.
“Shit.” He rushes over to me and cups my face in his hands, “What happened? What’s going on?” His eyes are frantic and he looks back and forth from me to Wayne, hoping someone will answer.
“My-” My voice cracks as I try to speak so I take a moment to think of what to say, “Parents.” I finally settle on. 
Eddie just nods and pulls me in for a hug, not caring that I’m soaked from head to toe. Wayne finishes putting on his other shoe then walks over to Eddie.
“She can stay as long as she needs, okay? Don’t worry about it. I’ll bring some stuff home after my shift.” Then he pats him on the shoulder and heads out into the pouring rain that you just escaped from.
Eddie keeps holding me while I cry into his chest, wishing that this nightmare of a life was over. As I calm down I can hear him spftly whispering things to me.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe here. I love you so much baby.” The words fill my heart with warmth and happiness that I can’t help but to stop thinking about my parents.
I sadly pull away from Eddie, missing his warmth and look up at him, “Thank you.” My voice is still weak but it’s less strained than before.
“It’s nothing. I told you I’m always here for you, I don’t care when you come over as long as I know you’re safe.” He plants a kiss on my temple, “Can I start a warm bath for you? I don’t want you to catch a cold from these wet clothes.”
This. This is the Eddie everyone needs to see, if they did they would understand him the way I do. This sweet and caring boy who only wants the best for those he loves and cares for. I couldn’t have wished for anyone more perfect than him.
I nod my head and follow him as he leads us to the small bathroom next to his bedroom. He turns the faucet on and tests the temperature before turning back to me.
“I’ll set out some clothes on my bed and here,” He grabs a towel from the hall closet, “Is a towel for when you’re done. I’m just gonna be in the living room, so call if you need anything okay?”
“Thank you.”
“You already said that sweet girl,” A smile spread across his face, showing off his signature dimples.
“I know, but I want you to know that I really mean it,” I give him a quick kiss before he’s heading out into the living room again.
I quickly strip down, tearing the wet clothes from my body with some struggle, before finally getting into the warm water that Eddie prepared. The heat immediately starts to soothe my aching muscles and joints, the feeling bringing a wash of relaxation over me.
I wash myself off and clean my hair with Eddie’s coconut shampoo and conditioner. I always love the smell when he’s fresh out the shower and the scent is the strongest. After I’m thoroughly cleaned I get out and dry myself most of the way, only missing a few spots on my back.
I exit the bathroom and am blasted with a wave of cold air, sending shivers up my spine. I head into Eddie’s room to change and dry my hair. I walk in and notice that he left out his favorite Hellfire short and some grey sweats for me to wear, even if they both are over sized I love the gesture. I throw them on and admire the fit in his mirror before heading out to Eddie in the next room.
“There she is!” Eddie says, opening his arms wide, “How ya feelin’?” I walk over and snuggle up next to him, engulfed in the scent and warmth of him once again.
“Better. Still a little cold though,” I nuzzle further into him, not that there’s much room between us already.
“Well you’re in luck. I looked in the pantry and found some hot cocoa mix and mini marshmallows. I got your mug sittin in the kitchen,” Before I could even try to get it myself Eddie is up and off the couch and in the kitchen warming up my cocoa. He comes back only seconds later with a large mug topped with far too many marshmallows.
“Thank you,” I say as I reach out and grab the mug with both hands. I take a sip and feel as the warm liquid heats me from the inside. “DId you add-”
“Peppermint and cinnamon, yes ma’am. I know what you like,” He winks at me. A blush creeps up my cheeks at the words but I hide my face in the delicious drink before he can see. Eddie turns away from me to grab a nearby blanket and toss it over my shoulders, but he doesn’t go back to his seat.
“Come back! I miss your warmth.”
“Yeah yeah in a minute I gotta put this movie on first,” He’s crouched in front of the tv shuffling through disks and tapes. A minute later he finds the one he was looking for with a triumphant “Here it is, that little bastard.”
I just roll my eyes at him as he sets up the movie. Finally done with that and anything else he might need to do, Eddie slides in next to me and cuddles in the blanket as well. We watch as the screen brightens and the opening scene of my favorite movie starts to play.
“Wait, how did you?” I look between the tv and the man next to me, who just has a smile on his face as he looks at my shocked expression. “I bought it a while ago, figured you’d be over a lot so I might as well start making it more homey for you.”
I am in too much shock to utter any words so I opt for smothering him in kisses instead. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me and I can’t imagine anyone else sitting here next to me other than Eddie. We both burst out laughing before settling down and watching the movie before both of us drift off to sleep.
Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn @meanlilbean @sonnyahngel @corrodedcass @pigwidgeonxo @marsmunson86 @lottie-90 @figmentofquinn @sareim123122 @eddies-puppet @gvf23 @kennedy-brooke @rocklees-wife @emma77645 @cherris-n-peaches @breehumbles @joequinn-love @anyoddthoughts @aysheashea @eddiesskittle @uncxmfxrtablex @cherrymedicine13 @mrsjellymunson @shotgunhallelujah @bambipowerblueaddition @hexqueensupreme @josephquinnsfreckles @harrysgothicbitch @paleidiot @smurfflynn @lilyungpeanut @selena-rocker27
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msbarrybeeson · 2 years
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Like You | Donnie X Reader (Part I)
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A/N: Aha, confession imagine with Donnie? This is a part one, because I wanted to make a dramatic scene with you and Donnie during homecoming. Actually, this is the first time I’m applying two parts. Anyway, remember that constructive criticism is appreciated, and enjoy!
Summary: You were avoiding Donnie, so he pleaded April to talk to you, hoping he’d understand what happened. But low and behold, he found his own brother there.
Pairing: Rise!Donnie X Reader
Reader: Gender-neutral pronouns used. Mostly mentions. Few actual appearances.
Genre: Dramatic Fluff & Humor
Warning: Not proofread? I was in a hurry to get the argument part in.
Word Count: ~1430
Part: One / Two
~
“They’ve been avoiding me April!” Donatello complained, falling back on his chair while covering his face in dread. “I don’t understand. What went wrong— what is it did I do wrong?”
“Are you for real? That’s what you called me in for?” April crossed her arms. “(Name)’s probably just a bit shy around you.” 
“Oh the naïveté, it is never that simple.” He shook his head. “I hadn’t detected any signs of discomfort a couple of weeks ago. Then, suddenly, they don’t even respond to my texts until 48 hours 20 minutes later!
In fact,” the soft-shelled turtle slouched over, grumbling, “they decided to see another guy for calculus tutoring.”
April raised her eyebrow. “How did you even know—?” “And he’s not close to having the brains like I do!” As per usual during his rambling, Donnie ignored the question. 
She rolled her eyes.
“Don, you gotta calm down.” April placed her hand on his shoulder. “Maybe they’ve got a crush on you too, and they don’t know how to tell you that. They do owe you an explanation though….”
“Hah, sure, give me false hope that they’ll return—.”
“Oh no. Don’t you dare switch up on that cocky attitude of yours from just a second ago.” April hushed him. “Look, Donnie, if it bothers you so much, I—.”
Donnie slammed his hands on his armrests and sat upright. 
“—can secretly get (Name) to reveal their thoughts to you, while wearing a camera I can attach to you?”
“Wait what, I never said—!”
“I thought you’d never say so!”
April’s eyes widened. “Hold up, I’m not about to put (Name) on the spot like that! What if they say something that they don’t want you to hear?”
“Ignorance is bliss, April, they won’t have to know.”
“Well, for one, Don, I’m not that close to them. We don’t have any classes together. Also, I don’t wanna creep them out by asking personal stuff out of nowhere!” she said. “Are you trying to embarrass me!?” 
He groaned. “All right, I give in! Just at least ask them how’re they’re doing before I start chewing on my tech-bo.”
“At least I got something to entertain myself in school for once,” April muttered to herself, hiding behind one of the beams. “But I don’t see (Name) around, not with so many kids in the hall.” The camera on her glasses blinked. “Seriously, how much money does this school want?”
“April, over there by the lockers—. Who the hell is that?” 
April glanced to where Donnie mentioned. You were talking with a guy in a basketball uniform and cap. Oh boy, she could hear the bitterness through her earpiece.
“So, this must be her new, pathetic calculus tutor. Really, a guy in gym shorts?”
“Don, I can hear your muttering. And quit trash-talking about (Name)’s choice in tutors.”
“Whatever,” he scoffed, burning holes into the guy’s head when you started to smile with him. “Let me activate the human identification program based on your school’s database, so I— I mean— we could get a name.” 
Donnie paused for a moment. “Although, he does seem oddly familiar—.”
April’s eyes widened. “Hold up, is that Leo?”
Donnie monotonously replied, “Ha, that’s funny, April. Leonardo would never go to a school willingly—.” The student turned around, revealing the red markings on his green face. Not just that, his own program flashed a message in red. 
[ ERROR! NOT HUMAN ] 
“...”
Donnie fell off his chair, choking. 
April immediately touched her earpiece. “Don! You good back there?!”
“Of course not! Why the hell is Leo in your school!?”
He grimaced even more at the sight of you laughing (more like chuckling) alongside his oh-so opposite brother. “April, quick, get closer to them without being noticed!” Donnie commanded. “I demand answers!”
“I thought our plan is to talk to them, not eavsdrop!” 
“Hey, plans change when it is necessary…. It-is-necessary, and I’m paying you twenty bucks for this!” 
April facepalmed in embarrassment. She snuck closer in, turning her head away so you and Leo wouldn’t recognize her. There, while the camera couldn’t catch your faces, its microphone did pick up on your conversation better. 
“I’m thankful I can count on you, Leon.” They could hear you sigh. “Calculus is taking up so much time, and my tutor isn’t being helpful..”
“Anything for mi amigue.” The red-earred slider grinned, leaning on the lockers. 
Donnie frowned. He didn’t want to question it, but.. were you feeling more comfortable with his brother than him..?
Then, Leo coughing brought Donnie back from his thoughts. “I do got something to ask you, though, (Name).” The soft-shelled turtle narrowed his eyes at how Leo rubbed his neck nervously. Worry was bubbling inside. 
“You said homecoming’s coming up soon, right?”
It piqued everyone’s interest. “In a week, I mean, there are posters everywhere for it. Why.. do you ask?”
“…You don’t have a date yet, do you?”
April gasped, covering her mouth.
That was it. Donnie’s heart dropped.
Suddenly, the microphone lost focus on you two. Instead, the host’s heavy breathing was heard. Donnie’s camera was shaking up a lot, making him panic. 
“Hey hey hey! They’re not done talking yet, April! I need to know what their answer is!”
“Dale’s coming my way!” she exclaimed, shuffling between other students. “And I’m not about to get asked out to homecoming by him again!” 
Not long after, Donnie’s camera disconnected. He sat there in shock… until he clutched his head. “No, no, no! This shouldn’t be happening!” 
Questions ran through his brain. It wasn’t adding up: how could Leonardo like you too? You and he had no common interests! Why did it have to be him out of everyone else!? 
“AHRGH!” Donnie groaned, slamming his head against his desk. Then, he stood up from his chair, storming out while punching numbers into his phone. “That’s it! I’m going to have a civil discussion with this traitor!”
A tennis racket flew across the room.
“Don, Donnie, I know what you’re going to say, but I promise— OOMPH!” Leo was knocked hard in the face by a thrown tennis ball.
“You!” Donnie snapped, picking up another one. “You traitor! You knew I like (Name), yet you proceeded to ask them to this homecoming dance anyway!” The red-eared slider dodged the second throw. 
“Is that why you randomly asked me, last week, to do your calculus problems for you! Taking my notes and answers only to give to them and take credit for my calculations!”
“Don.”
“I knew it was too good to be true: Leonardo, who’s never read any novels or understood mathematics beyond basic algebra, wanted to learn calculus!”
“Hey! I know more than you think, okay!” Blue took offense. “Donnie, listen to me—.”
“It just had to be another cliché, doesn’t it! The ridiculous ‘love interest picks the jock over the nerd’ scenario! Oh, I’ve had enough of your stupid stunts ruining everything, Leo!” Donnie tried to throw a punch, but he fell over onto the ground when his brother jumped to the side.
“Listen to me for once, Donnie— I never asked them to homecoming with me!”
“Oh, but Leonardo, why in the name of logic would you ever ask them whether or not they have a date to homecoming— while looking soo nervous back there— without any intention of asking them out?” Distaste dripping from his words.
“Bro.. I was asking for you!”
Donnie shook his head, tsking. “Excuses, excuses....” When his brother’s words loaded, he froze. “Excuse me, did you just say you asked them out for me? Why would you ever—!?”
“Hey, you had an opportunity waiting, and I took it for you.” Leon nudged him. “Don’t act like I didn’t just do you a favor.”
“I could’ve done that myself! There were posters everywhere; I would’ve known, therefore, I would’ve asked them!”
“Hah, mi hermano, you’re saying you’d actually have the confidence to tell them?”
Donnie scrunched his face and stared down at the floor. His smug brother wasn’t wrong on that; he used to be more sure, but with your distance, he had a hard time confronting you with his feelings. He didn’t want to make things any more awkward.
“Hey.” Leon grabbed Donnie’s shoulders. “Just be yourself, Don. Knowing them, they’ll love you no matter how weird and science-y you get.” 
Purple deadpanned. “Wow, you sure know how to reassure someone.” He touched Leon’s hand, gazing up to meet his eyes. A small smile formed on his face. “…Thanks.”
"Espera un minuto, repeat that again? I, uh, I didn’t catch that.” 
Donnie shoved him away.
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floralcyanide · 1 month
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ɪғ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɪs ᴡʀᴏɴɢ, I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ — ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ
john “bucky” egan x fem!reader
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Lunch with Dr. Egan leads to him showing you old photographs at his home, which opens a door to a new side of your advisor and your relationship with him.
(Headcanons: One | Two)
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warnings: age gap (reader is 23-25, Bucky is in his 40s), descriptions of war, the insinuation of ptsd, smoking, drinking, mentions of alcohol
word count: 2k
author’s note: here is the first part (maybe) to my Professor Bucky au!! if ya'll want more just let me know, I'm indecisive about it tbh. I probably won't write smut for this series though. feedback is appreciated!
masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune
based on this song | (If Loving You Is Wrong) I Don't Wanna Be Right - Barbara Mandrell
(when it’s from Bucky’s point of view, I will use Bucky rather than Dr. Egan.)
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
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You’re giddy, like it’s the first day of class all over again, except it’s a different type of nervousness. It’s not like you’re going on a date or anything, but you’re seeing your advisor outside of campus. It’s a little nerve-wracking. Especially because he’s so interesting and attractive and… are you crushing on Dr. Egan? Absolutely, positively not! He’s your superior and advisor, and you will never cross that line. Even if you find him fascinating in numerous ways. 
The small restaurant that Dr. Egan suggested is bustling with people when you arrive. You sit patiently in the booth as you wait for your superior to show. When he finally approaches, he apologizes profusely for being late.
“It’s okay, Dr. Egan. You’re a busy man.”
This launches the two of you into a conversation about your extracurricular activities and life outside of work and school. Dr. Egan wants to know more about your work at the museum. You tell him all about how it started and where you see it going. He listens intently the entire time, asking questions throughout the conversation. You eventually order your meals and continue discussing the museum until the topic strays.
“I have a lot of photos of us from where we were stationed,” Dr. Egan mentions around a sip of water, “I think I have some of your father, actually.”
You sit up at that, “Really?”
“Quite a few of me too. Would you want to see them?” Dr. Egan chuckles at your sudden interest.
“Of course I would,” you say with a grin, “When and where?”
“If you’re okay with it, I don’t live too far from here. I have a lot of stuff you can look at if you’d like.”
After lunch concludes, you and Dr. Egan head over to his quaint home near downtown- a mere walk from the restaurant. The living room has a large array of books and records on a bookcase the size of a wall, some paperwork is strewn on the couch and on the dining room table. Dr. Egan profusely apologizes for the mess.
“I can’t imagine how many assignments you have to grade,” you say, taking in the various novels and history books on the bookcase, “I don’t mind the mess.”
“All the stuff is in the extra room,” Dr. Egan says, motioning to the hallway with a smile.
He appreciates your love for literature and history and your patience with his lived-in home. Bucky would never ask if you had a partner as it isn’t professional or his business, but he’d be surprised if you’re single. If he were your age all over again- he would stop his train of thought there before it travels any further. You giddily follow him into his guest room, where there are shelves full of things, including photographs. 
“Here’s one of just your father,” Dr. Egan says, holding the photo over his shoulder to you as he scuffles through other pictures.
You carefully take the photograph, look over it, and take in your father in his youth. He’s never shown you many photos of him from the war; usually, they’re of him with other soldiers or aren’t of the best quality. But this photo is up close, and your father is alone.
“You can have it if you want,” Dr. Egan says as you stand next to him, still eyeing the picture.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“I’m certain. I collected most of the photos and stuff the others didn’t want. If I can pass them down, I will.”
You smile at Dr. Egan, who returns it as he looks back down at the table, “This one is me.”
You grab a hold of the left side of the photograph, and Dr. Egan lets you take it from his grasp to look closer, “This Is you?”
“Sure is,” he says.
Dr. Egan was beyond handsome- still is, of course. His curls were darker, and his skin less freckled. He had a little more light in his eyes. You happen to glance up and see a photo of him where he appears much different. Dr. Egan has quite a bit of facial hair and looks shell-shocked. He quickly moved the photo, which looked like a POW card, under some others. You glance over at him, and he gives you an uneasy look before turning his attention to a photo of another young man.
“This is my good friend, Gale,” Dr. Egan clears his throat, “he was with your father and me a lot through training and overseas.”
Sensing a change in the older man’s demeanor, you change the subject, “We don’t have to go through your things if it brings back sore memories.”
“Ah, don’t worry about me. I’d rather tell the stories over and over than forget.”
You hesitantly reach for the area where he shoved the POW card out of sight, sliding it out from under some other pictures.
“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d like to know more about this,” you hold up the photo, giving Dr. Egan an earnest look.
“You’ll have to get a few drinks in me first,” he half-jokes.
You raise an eyebrow with a smirk, “That’s all it takes, Dr. Egan?”
The layered comment doesn’t go past him as he takes a step closer to you, your chests almost touching, “Just know my life can get a little dark.”
You stare up at him, your gaze careful, “I can handle it.”
The tension is palpable but Dr. Egan breaks it by taking a step back,  “I hope you like whiskey ‘cause it’s all I’ve got.”
You follow him to the living room, where he pours two glasses of whiskey, handing one to you as you take a seat on the couch. Dr. Egan sits on the side of the couch that’s by the record player, where he puts on something to play quietly as you talk.
“I was shot down back in forty-four and landed in Germany,” Dr. Egan pulls out a cigar from his pocket before clipping it and lighting it, “You don’t mind, right?”
You shake your head and let him continue his story.
“Managed to hide for a day before I was found. It was a rough few days of being captured. I thought I was going to die for sure until I made a run for it when I had the chance.”
You watch Dr. Egan carefully, his eyebrows furrowed as he replayed the memories in his head. He puffs the cigar before sighing, “Then I got captured for real by the Nazis, and they interrogated me. Didn’t say a word.”
“I bet that was terrifying,” you frown.
“Yeah,” Dr. Egan nods, his face breaking out into a solemn smile, “Before I got shot down, Gale had been declared MIA. I was worried he had gotten into trouble, but Gale is Gale, he always got himself out of any trouble he got into. Anyway, when I got to the POW camp, I found him there. So we stuck together.”
“That’s good that you had someone you knew there,” you say.
“Knew a few men there, actually. Some didn’t make it out.”
You put a hand on Dr. Egan’s knee, the whiskey making you a little brave, “You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to, Professor.”
Dr. Egan glances down at your hand before moving his eyes back to yours, “Like I said, I’d rather remember than forget.”
Your hand doesn’t leave his knee as he continues his story, describing the work he had to do over the months he was at the camp. Dr. Egan finally gets to when he escapes, and they end up at another POW camp, where the Nazis fail. 
“I ran around like a madman looking for a flag,” Dr. Egan chuckles, shaking his head, “Did finally find one. Scrambled up to the pole and put up that American flag, and for the first time since the war started, I felt safe.”
“Do you still feel that way? Safe?” you ask.
“I don’t think there’ll be another war anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Egan lets his cigar go out.
“No, I mean, do you feel safe in general? My father still has nightmares about it all. He refuses to get help,” you say sadly.
“There are times I’ll wake up sweating without remembering what I dreamt about, and there’s no doubt it’s about the war,” Dr. Egan polishes off his second glass of whiskey, “But I’m in a good place. I do what I love, and I get to teach brilliant minds like you.”
“That’s great. What more could you want?” 
Dr. Egan snorts at that, waving his hand dismissively, “Nothing that I could discuss without embarrassment.”
“We tell each other just about everything, Dr. Egan,” you say, leaning in a tad closer, “You can trust me.”
Dr. Egan lets his eyes flutter to your lips for only a second before boring his eyes into yours, “But can you trust me?”
“I do. I do trust you,” you say softly, taking in the odd look on your superior’s face.
“I’m just alone whenever I’m not in class or on campus. And it gets to me sometimes,” Dr. Egan shrugs, “No big deal.”
“Many of us wish for more in the romance department, Dr. There’s no embarrassment there.”
Your palm burns through Bucky’s slacks, and he feels fidgety when making contact. It had been a while since anyone had laid a hand on him in any way. It didn’t help that you made him nervous. You’re quite the looker and intelligent beyond your means. You’re compassionate about everything and seem to notice Bucky more than everyone else. Maybe it’s because you knew there was something about him the day you met him that was different. And now that you know what it is, you don’t treat him any differently. 
“It’s just that not everyone wants to be with someone with a past like mine or deal with the current consequences of that past, you know?” 
Your face contorts into one of sadness, “Oh, that’s not true, Dr. Egan.”
“You can call me John, you know,” Dr. Egan says abruptly.
“There’s a lot of people who wouldn’t mind being with someone with a rough past, John.  A lot of us have things we carry that we aren’t proud of,” you say.
“Would you mind?” 
“Mind what?”
“A rough past.”
“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t mind it.”
You suddenly notice how close the two of you have become in proximity, and you struggle to snap out of the haze filling the room. Bucky knows better, but he still lets his hand find your hip. His touch is blazing hot, and you nearly gasp at the sensation. He gently guides you onto his lap, where you perch yourself without much thought. Bucky’s other hand finds itself on your other hip, his fingers squeezing deftly into the fabric of your skirt. He stares up at you without a word, the room now quiet as the record had long since stopped playing. 
“What else would you not mind?” Dr. Egan asks you, his gaze taking in your form.
You exhale shakily and let a laugh escape your lips, “Not much.”
Dr. Egan lets his right hand slide up your body until he reaches your neck, his thumb lightly caressing your pulse, “That doesn’t help me any, doll.”
You know it’s wrong, but it feels so right. It feels so perfect to be the center of Dr. Egan’s attention and to be so close to him physically. You’re both adults and are capable of making decisions, even if they have consequences. You decide to end Dr. Egan’s teasing and you move your hands from where they were on his shoulders to his cheeks. Pulling him to you, you meet halfway to press your lips to his. Something in that moment feels complete, like the stars are aligned and the world is standing still. Dr. Egan’s hand grasps the back of your neck as he kisses back, throwing all caution to the wind. 
You feel yourself getting too warm, so you pull away from the embrace with a little reluctance. Dr. Egan follows your lips before opening his eyes.
“Why’d you stop?”
“It has been a while for you, hmm? Take a lady to dinner first, John,” you fix a piece of hair behind his ear, chuckling at his expression.
“Dinner it is, then.”
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