#also the ages are thrown in there just like that without much thought

[uselessnbee]

i have this scene in my mind where Mike and Will come out to each other before confessing and have a really nice talk about it and then when they just sit in comfortable silence one of them breaks it:

"...so...did you once have a crush on Lucas too?

"....i may have been a little too obsessed with him when i was 10...."

"dude! 11yo me was ready to plan a wedding when he did something sweet!"

and then they start laughing and teasing each other and just having fun being gay and comfortable with themselves thank you for listening<3

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent game related things .. hrmm...

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .

❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞

summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.

desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns

dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.

love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?

and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.

so how much more would it have ached for toji?

“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.

nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?

if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.

“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.

your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.

the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.

you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.

was he like that to his wife? maybe not.

does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?

you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?

you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.

a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.

taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.

when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.

“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.

“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.

“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.

“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.

“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”

“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.

“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.

toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.

he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.

this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.

maybe this isn't just about gambling.

with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.

toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.

he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.

he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.

toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.

he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.

toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.

he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.

“hey kid, where's your mama?”

toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.

“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.

“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.

“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”

“yeah? i love your mama too.”

toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.

the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.

instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.

the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.

──

it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.

“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.

“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.

“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?

“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”

is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.

“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.

“are you fushiguro?”

that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?

“no. you have the wrong person.”

“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.

“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.

“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”

…

and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.

he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.

“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.

“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.

your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.

and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.

your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.

“say something damn it!”

you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.

“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.

“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?

no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.

“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.

when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.

but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.

your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.

opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.

and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.

“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”

your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.

“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.

toji sighs. he has no excuse.

“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.

your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”

his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”

you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.

“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”

now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.

you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.

you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.

so then, why were you back here?

it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.

that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.

standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.

maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?

closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?

forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?

you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.

your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.

the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.

“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.

“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.

“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”

“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.

“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”

“wait what was that??”

“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.

“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”

your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.

“so you do know him.”

'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.

then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.

and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.

[eccentricallygothic]

When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm. 

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now. 

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor. 

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door. 

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress. 

Not that they would be doing any more of that. 

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you. 

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible. 

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.  

His eyes scan your form. 

Beautiful. 

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time. 

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete. 

It is the people that live in it. 

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal. 

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly. 

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night. 

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life. 

You should have taken notice of the signs. 

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem. 

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 

And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything. 

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened? 

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning. 

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second. 

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside. 

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly. 

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen. 

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?" 

He sighs. 

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions." 

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close. 

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this. 

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back. 

The man is not chasing you like you expected. 

But you don't want to stick around and find out why. 

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door. 

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead. 

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes. 

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused. 

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying. 

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently. 

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one. 

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet. 

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home. 

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands." 

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that." 

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet. 

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone." 

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours." 

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery. 

But you don't know when he does it. 

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern. 

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse. 

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules. 

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes. 

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point. 

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?" 

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning. 

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days. 

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man. 

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep. 

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way. 

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him. 

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him. 

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.  

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day. 

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck. 

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina. 

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever. 

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well. 

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test. 

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence. 

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic. 

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast. 

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken. 

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat. 

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment. 

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining. 

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you. 

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–" 

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy. 

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while. 

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully. 

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape. 

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed. 

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife. 

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

.

What do you think hAH-

[syrupfog]

Modern au where Sanji, adopted off the streets by Zeff when he was ten, spent eight years convinced that when he turns eighteen Zeff is going to throw him out, say that he served his time and he wants Sanji gone. 

Then that doesn’t HAPPEN, and Sanji is afraid to ever bring it up.

He goes off to university expecting that when winter break comes he won’t have a bed to return to, and that makes him a little… erratic. Throwing himself into his classes to keep his scholarship but also working overtime to get money to afford a place to stay when he’s on break and in the summers, and overall just completely neglects human connection because he’s convinced he’s on his own. 

It’s probably a miracle Luffy finds him and forces friendship onto him, bringing his friends into Sanji’s space (His dorm roommate Gin dropped out in the first week so Sanji’s REALLY been alone). 

And with Luffy comes his asshole friend Zoro, who Sanji learns is ALSO adopted and he RESENTS him for it. Because Zoro is perfectly secure in his relationship with Mihawk— probably because he was adopted at such a young age. 

But Sanji doesn’t feel that security. He knows he’s beyond lucky to have been picked up by Zeff at all, knows he can’t keep asking for free handouts from him. It would be more than enough to be hired at the Baratie someday.

But Luffy pushes into his life and pushes Zoro in along with him, and one day manages to drag Sanji to an Actual Party after his shift in the canteen is done, and get him properly drunk for the first time maybe ever. 

Sanji is an angry AND weepy drunk.

He tries to fight Zoro (who can hold his alcohol just fine) then ends up collapsing on him in tears, yelling that it’s not FAIR that Zoro has everything he wants. Zoro assumes this means his three swords. He tells Sanji he’s not sharing.

Sanji sobs that his dad is going up abandon him, has probably already thrown his shit to the kerb. 

Zoro, in an oddly selfless (to Sanji’s eyes) act, says that Sanji’s old man can shove it, and if he’s really like that then he’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve Sanji anyway.

Then he says Sanji can come home with HIM for winter break. Perona always brings guests (boyfriends) home on holidays. 

And as drunk as Sanji is at the time, it’s a surprise he remembers it the next morning. 

But he does. 

And he had said yes, so… he can’t just back out now.

(Plus, free accommodations? Sanji’s meals right now are what he can sneak from the canteen while he works, he’s saving as much as possible to afford a place this summer without a co-signer)

So winter break comes and Sanji doesn’t even try to contact Zeff, just goes off with Zoro. It’s a little awkward but arguing with Zoro is almost relaxing at this point, familiar. And Perona is… well, all women are perfect. 

And then, and THEN—

He gets a call from Zeff. 

And Zeff is fucking PISSED at him. 

Because what does he MEAN he’s not coming home for winter hols? He didn’t even CALL TO SAY SO. WHAT THE HELL, EGGPLANT? 

And Sanji’s there in the Mihawk living room with his dad yelling loud enough for Zoro to hear and he yells back WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, OLD MAN? Because “I turned eighteen! I’m an adult! You don’t need to pretend to care about me anymore!” 

(Zoro isn’t even pretending not to listen, he’s staring) 

And Zeff yells that Sanji is “a pile of horse shit” and “of course I fucking care you shitty little dumbass, you think I’d just kick you out after going through hell to get you?” 

And Sanji’s in shock because he— he really thought— 

“What,” Zeff continues (he might as well be on speakerphone he’s so loud). He says, “you think that little of me, you shitty kid?” 

And Sanji says, “it’s not THAT, you’ve given me too damn much already! I don’t deserve all this shitty charity!” 

And that sets Zeff off about how it’s not charity when it’s his OWN KID

anyway. He yells a long time. Sanji sits there and takes it and does not make eye contact with Zoro until after he’s finally hung up. 

When he finally does, he says, “I guess I should go.” 

“What?” asks Zoro. “Why?” 

“I got you to invite me over out of pity when I apparently had a dad this whole time.” 

He’s so fucking embarrassed that Zoro heard all of that. 

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Fucking hell, Curly, I didn’t invite you over because I felt sorry for you.” 

Sanji squints. “Why the fuck else would you have?” He asks.

“I did it because I fucking like you and didn’t want you to be miserable. Also because Mihawk is always on my case about bringing home a boyfriend, he’s tired of meeting Perona’s weekly boy toys.” 

Sanji squints harder. “I’m not your boyfriend,” he says.

Zoro grins. “Not YET,” he says. 

Sanji feels incensed. “You can’t just—” 

Jumping to his feet, Zoro draws his swords from behind the sofa. “If I win this fight, you’re my boyfriend.” 

“Fucking DEAL,” Sanji says, clambering up out of his chair. “When I win, you’re going to have to ASK me on an ACTUAL DATE, FIRST.” 

The fight is a draw. 

They spend the rest of break arguing about how to start dating. 

Without the weight of the impending loss of the only family he’s known, Sanji spends spring classes more relaxed, happier, willing to give in to Luffy’s every whim (and he has many). 

Sanji goes home to Zeff in the spring, and he brings Zoro.

[3rachaslut]

kinks i think skz would have (part 3)

SKZXFEM READER

cw: smut obviously (MINORS DNI) the tw’s are kinda obvious with the sub header but read at your own discretion babies 🤍

a/n: not proofread sorry for any mistakes. also i’m so happy to be writing again! lets be delulu together xox

part 1, part 2

bangchan; hair pulling

oh my lord this man is relentless,

he’d be grabbing fistfuls of your hair and yanking your head up to look at him when you’re on your knees underneath him

“you look so pretty on your knees for me doll”

will literally snatch your hair as he’s fucking you in missionary and growl like an ANIMAL down your ear as he’s so deep in your pussy

“f- fuck baby, ah- feel so good around my cock”

the way your mouth drops open at the sting on your scalp as you stare up at him with mascara down your face from him deep-throating you omg you look devine babygirl!

“don’t cry angel you’re doing such a good job for me” *continues to FACE FUCK you*

lee know; edging/ overstim

we all knew this one was coming

you best believe lee know would make you BEG for him to let you come every. single. time. without fail. you would be a whimpering, sobbing mess

“if you want to cum, what do you say baby? … hmm i don’t think think you want it that much” GOD

he would be holding the vibrator to your clit for ages! smirking at your face contorting as the pleasure just builds and builds in your pussy.

“such a good girl for daddy hmm?” HELP (i am simply a dog)

“that’s it, keep begging sweetheart” AHH

and when he does let you come oh. god. he would make you orgasm over and over again until you’re crying! your pussy would be so red and swollen afterwards and he lovessss to see it

“no no doll, you begged me to come so take it like a good girl”

changbin; pussy slapping

hear me out-

so, changbin would be on top of you fully clothed whilst you’re bare naked underneath him and even the sight of you alone is enough to have his cock digging into you from his pants

he’s the type to play with your clit until you’re mewling but would SLAPPP your pussy once he hears you beg to go faster

“you don’t tell me when to do with your pussy darling”

the way he would smirk slyly as your body jolts up and your legs shake in surprise at the sudden impact o.m.g!

each slap would have you groaning from your whole chest as he continues slapping your sensitive clit again and again and he would even have the AUDACITY to chuckle down your ear at your reactions

“you’ll get my cock soon enough baby, don’t worry”

hyunjin; praise kink

i feel like this one being on the list was inevitable. hyunjin and praise kink just go hand in hand

the way he would trace your entire body with his hands leaving kisses on your exposed skin with his eyes full of adoration i’m CRYING

“you’re actually ethereal y/n..”

each time he would kiss the inside of your thighs, he would look up at you with your head thrown back in bliss and smile lovingly at the sight of you enjoying yourself. (all he cares about is your pleasure i SWEAR)

“that feel nice baby?” um YES

none. stop. compliments of how beautiful your body is and how he’s the luckiest man in the world

lots of make out sessions because trust me, this man is drunk on you!

“so fucking beautiful”

han jisung; marking

because han AINT SHARING

the thought of anyone else looking at you has han feeling the need to mark you as his own. you’re his and he’s yours. done!

seriously bestie, the amount of hickeys he gives you is crazyyyy! but would absolutely kiss each one after making them

“my gorgeous girl, aren’t you? only mine” the POSSESSIVENESS i love urgh

the way he would have you moaning underneath him as he sucks on your neck again and again and the way you would sound so sexy he would be lowkey going feral for you.

“fuck baby, i love you so much”

felix; pain play

because, in my opinion, felix can’t contain his dom side around you…

as in he would be shoving his fingers down your throat whilst pinching and twisting your nipples just to hear your choked moans whilst you writhe under him

and the way he would chuckle smugly af at the state he would put you in every time. (his deep laugh has me on the floor)

“is it hurting baby? aww… good”

SLAPPING. EVERYWHERE.

the lasting bruises of his hands all over your thighs and ass for dayssss

the way he would nip his teeth against your clit just to see you jump and buck up into his face when you feel a sharp sting onfbsjsn

*deep voice* “good girl” — AHHHH i’m sat!!

seungmin; objectification & humiliation

this one is my personal fave… stay with me !!…

i know for sure that seungmin is a super soft lover but you can’t tell me this man doesn’t respectfully disrespect you to the point of orgasm !

the way he would tease your clit forever just to look into your desperate af eyes and laugh at you for being “such a needy fucking puppy yeah?” and the way he would call you a whore and slap you in the face afterwards IM WET

“can’t speak now pup? aww are you so dumb on my cock that you’ve turned into nothing but a doll for me to fuck? yeahhh…”

and the way he would choke you until your eyes roll back in bliss just to laugh at how pliant you are O.M.G

the aftercare though! he would give you so so many face kisses and cuddle you so tightly only to do the exact same thing the night after

jeongin; Msub

look, i’m constantly torn between wanting innie to rail me and wanting to corrupt him but this oneeee…

WHINEY JEONGIN.

when i tell you the whimpers this man lets out whilst you tease the top of his cock is heavenly, i mean dangerously

“y/n- mistress! please!” oh my

his eyes would be focused on YOU, never taking his eyes off his beautiful girl

so much begging and pleading and the way he would moan even louder in desperation when you smirk at him because he knows it gonna be a long night

“i’ll be good! i’ll be so good for you! please y/n!”

the way he would grab your face once he comes down from his high and just kisses you for so long with SO much passion. i will cry

[helioswritings]

“Hey,” Hinata asks you one day, as you both sit on the bed in your dorm, “have you ever been kissed?”

The sudden question startles you, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him. “Huh? What brought this on?”

He shrugs. “Eh, Atsumu talks about kissing sometimes. I’ve never done it.”

“I haven’t either.” You tell him a little quietly. It’s always been a spot of insecurity with you, your lack of experience, especially since people say college is supposed to be the perfect place to experiment and have fun.

You haven’t done any of that, and the only person you hang out with regularly is Hinata, and he’s not too keen on partying either.

“Maybe we should.” Hinata says, a bit obviously.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay Hinata. Let me know when you find someone, and then come back and set me up too.”

He nudges you playfully. “No, I mean maybe we should. You and I. Kiss.”

Feeling like you’re dreaming, you pinch yourself a bit, then turn to him with wide eyes when you don’t wake up. “You want to…kiss each other? Why?”

“Practice.” The tone in his voice indicates that it should’ve been obvious to you, but you’re still not convinced you haven’t been asleep or in a coma.

But on the other hand, he’s right. And practice is good, because it’s be embarrassing if you didn’t know how to kiss. No other reason.

You set your textbook down and turn your body towards Hinata. “Okay. You’re right. Lay one on me.”

“Me? Why don’t you do it?”

“It was your idea.”

“But I don’t know how!”

“Neither do I!”

It takes about ten minutes of bickering and researching on the internet for the two of you to figure out what to do. It makes you feel a little silly, looking up how to kiss, but Hinata is looking at you with a fierce determination in his eyes that only rivals the look he puts on when he’s playing volleyball.

“Okay, are you ready?”

He doesn’t really give a response, as it were, he just…kisses you. He’s not bad, if you were being honest, not that you have anything to compare it to.

The two of you kiss for what feels like ages and when you pull away, Hinata’s face is flushed.

“I think we need to do it again.” He tells you. And you agree.

***

It becomes a thing. The kissing. Every time Hinata is over, he always wants to kiss. And you don’t argue! You like it, you do. But it’s also been stirring up feelings in your chest.

You know you like Hinata, you’ve always liked Hinata. You’re of the opinion that someone would have to be an idiot to not like him. But the fact remains that you don’t know how much longer you can take all of the kissing without shaking him so hard his brain falls out of his ears.

Like now. You’re kissing and his hands are sitting very politely on your waist, occasionally twitching and causing you to laugh because it tickles. Your hands are on his cheeks. The swelling in your chest is almost painful.

You pull away from the kiss abruptly and Hinata frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“I understand for the first time. Maybe the second and third, too. But it’s been weeks since then, and we kiss almost every day.”

“I thought that’s what people who date do.” He tells you, a bit confused.

“What do you mean by that, Hinata?” You feel a bit dizzy.

“Aren’t we?”

“No! I don’t think so?”

You think back to every interaction you’ve had over the past few weeks, and more and more the pieces start clicking.

“Oh my god.”

Hinata hands you some water.

You take it, still a bit thrown. You’ve been dating him for ages.

“Can we kiss now?”

He’s lucky you don’t throw him out the window.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Five.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.7k

Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.

Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.

A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.

It's been three months since you left home.

It's been three months since you saw Bucky.

He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.

He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.

You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.

The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.

Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.

And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.

On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.

You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"This is ridiculous."

Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.

"Good ridiculous?"

She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.

"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."

Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.

"I need these on the menu."

"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."

"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."

"Okay. Fine."

You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.

You know it's because of your Tethering.

Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.

And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.

Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.

It takes time to adjust.

No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.

For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.

For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.

Both are valid. Both are understandable.

You remind yourself of this every day.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."

The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."

Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?

You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.

You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.

He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.

"Hi."

"Hey. Are you the baker here?"

"I am."

He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.

"I'm Rafael."

You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.

"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."

You don't say anything, so he continues.

"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."

You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.

"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."

You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.

You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.

"You're really talented, you know."

"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."

His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.

"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."

"You'd do that for her?"

"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."

"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.

"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."

He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.

"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."

You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.

"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."

The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,

"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."

His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."

"You guys are married?"

"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."

"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"

You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.

"He's my Dad's best friend."

You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"That... is complicated."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."

Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.

"How did your parents react?"

"They don't know yet."

His eyebrows raise almost comically high.

"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."

"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."

"Understatement of the century," he laughs.

You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.

"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."

"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."

He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.

"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."

"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"

"Sure does."

You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."

"Thanks, Rafael."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Of course."

That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."

"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."

"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."

"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."

"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."

"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."

"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."

"I know," you smile. "I know."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.

You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.

You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.

You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.

You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.

You know who it is.

A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.

You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.

He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.

He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.

He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.

"You're here."

You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.

"I'm here."

Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.

"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."

He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.

"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.

"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."

"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."

"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"

He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.

"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."

You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.

"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.

"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."

"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."

"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.

"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."

"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.

He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.

"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."

"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."

"Miss you more."

He looks at you, smiling.

"Man, we're the worst."

"Truly."

He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.

It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.

There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.

"Surprise!"

You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.

"Oh my God! You guys!"

She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.

He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.

"I got you something. I hope you like it."

That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.

"Happy Birthday, Mama."

She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.

She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.

"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."

"Missed you. You look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."

You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.

"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."

You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.

You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.

What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.

"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"

His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.

"I have to."

"Oh yeah?"

"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."

He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.

"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."

"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."

His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.

"One dance," you whisper.

He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.

Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"That was close!"

Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.

"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."

"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."

She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.

"Love you both."

"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"

"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"

You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.

"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."

You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.

"It's not the same here without you."

You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.

You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.

"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"

He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.

"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."

"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."

"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."

"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."

He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."

He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.

"Okay. I promise."

You whip your head around to look at him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."

"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I feel it."

You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.

"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.

"I have. What for?"

"The couch."

You process for a moment before it clicks.

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."

"No?"

"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."

He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."

You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.

"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."

Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.

"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."

You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.

Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.

"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"

You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.

"Please, Buck. Anything."

"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."

He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."

Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.

"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.

You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.

Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.

You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.

He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.

"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."

You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.

He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

"So good," you grin. "Never better."

"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.

"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."

"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."

You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.

Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.

You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.

"Buck, I-"

"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."

"Need you to move, baby."

He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.

"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."

Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.

He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.

"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."

The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.

Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.

He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.

"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.

"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.

Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."

You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.

"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.

The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.

Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.

Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.

"I don't think I want to go."

He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.

"You have to, baby. It's your dream."

Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.

"You're my dream."

Bucky sniffles, and you continue.

"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."

You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.

"We'll be okay, my honey girl."

You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.

"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.

tag list part one

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[kneelingshadowsalome]

Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?

(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)

I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️

Ghost x FVirgin!Reader Word count: 2,9 k Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down. 

A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet. This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust.  I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me. I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further.  Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘

Simon Riley was a one of a kind man. 

He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him. 

Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.

Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.

And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.

Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him. 

After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.

A bedrock. 

With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.

After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.

In real life, things were not that breezy.

Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two? 

What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth? 

It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.

He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.

Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.

And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was. 

He felt safe.

In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects. 

Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?

You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth? 

Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone. 

Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm. 

Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.

Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside. 

.  .  .

Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.

The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.

"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy. 

You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck. 

"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.

"Don't be. This has been fun." 

He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest. 

"But it's about time I torture you, right?"

Oh God…

Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.

He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.

He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant. 

His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.

The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.

"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.

"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.

"You afraid…?" 

"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.

"Mm. That makes two of us." 

He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient. 

Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy. 

He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.

"Alright… Come here."

He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide. 

The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding. 

You feel both lost and found with him. In him.

He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.

Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.

"Simon…?"

"Mm-hm?" 

He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.

"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.

Great… 

Here comes the awkward.

He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.

"Is that so?"

His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.

"Yes…?" 

A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch. 

"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"

Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.

He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower. 

He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.

"Sweetheart."

His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…

"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.

"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.

"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."

You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.

He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.

"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.

I want you.

You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.

"You want it?"

"Yes."

That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.

“You want it with me?”

“Yes.”

"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.

"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.

"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."

Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear. 

His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.

"Oh–" 

He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.

"You like that?"

"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.

"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."

You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.

"Simon?"

"Speak your mind, love."

"Are you disappointed…?"

He stops again, a breath away from you. 

"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"

He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.

"Love, I'm honored."

You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.

"Silly little thing…" 

It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.

You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.

"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."

The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close…

"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"

The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside. 

Oh God oh God–

You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.

"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"

You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen. 

"Yes."

[girlgenius1111]

wrong.

r is dating an older woman. her teammates don't approve. when r and her girlfriend breakup, she hides it from her teammates, determined not to let them know that they were right.

angst + fluff. breakup obviously. protective barca :)

When you'd decided to ignore your teammates feelings about your girlfriend, you didn't imagine it would end as terribly as it did. You chalked it up to them being overprotective, which they were, rather than them being right about her, which they also were. She was 28, and you were 19, and you knew they felt that she was too old for you. You were one of the younger players on the team, which you took as something of a challenge, as if you had to prove your maturity. That wasn't why you were dating someone so much older, but it was certainly a perk. You thought they'd be impressed when they met her, but they were not. They waited until she left to tell you that they thought it was a bad idea, that she was too old for you.

This only really strengthened your resolve to keep seeing her, much to your teammates frustration. They'd all tried to speak to you about it, promising that they just didn't want to see you get hurt or taken advantage of, but you wouldn't hear any of it. You all fell into an unspoken agreement to not discuss your girlfriend, as it was the cause of countless arguments, and they clearly weren't changing your mind. Alexia had finally thrown up her hands, saying that if you wanted to be immature and not listen to them, you were free to do so, but that you shouldn't expect them to be there to fix it when it inevitably ended poorly.

Alexia was just frustrated and worried, and she hadn't really meant it. She thought that was obvious; her and the team had made it clear, she thought, that they were always there for you. No matter what. They'd proven it, time and time again, but Alexia's words rattled around in your brain for days after she said them, and you were unable to pretend they hadn't hurt. Still, you pushed it to the back of your mind, confident that you wouldn't need your teammates, because nothing would go wrong.

-----

Of course, everything did go wrong. You had gone to your girlfriend's apartment to surprise her with dinner after training one day. You were in the kitchen, preparing to start cooking when you heard her key in the door. She was on the phone when she walked in, sitting on the couch and continuing her conversation, and you decided to wait until she was off the phone to announce your presence.

"No, really, it's fine. She doesn't have to know, and besides, she's just a bit of fun. She's 20, she can't possibly think I'm serious about her."

You felt nauseous. As far as you were aware, you were the only 20 year old she was seeing, which meant she was talking about you. It only got worse from there.

"I definitely prefer you, baby. Her body is nice, obviously, but I could do without her personality. She's young, and annoying, and she doesn't know how to shut up. I don't know how her team tolerates her, honestly, I can't spend more than a couple hours with her unless we're partaking in... other activities, and then her mouth is pretty busy."

You can hear the smirk in her voice, and you swear you can feel your heart fall out of your chest. She was speaking so carelessly about you, so cruelly. You felt used, and suddenly self conscious about everything you'd ever said. Was she right? Did you talk too much? Did the team secretly hate you? It only took you a few seconds to decide that she was probably right. She was older, the age of a lot of your teammates, and it seemed incredibly likely that they felt the same way.

Your embarrassment quickly turned to anger, though, as it often did, and you grabbed the flowers you'd brought her, and marched out into the living room. Her eyes widened, hand dropping the phone, and you threw the flowers in her direction, as well as the key to her apartment she'd given you, before walking right out the door, taking care to slam it behind you.

-----

You thought you were handling it pretty well. You walked right out of her apartment and to your car, driving home. You didn't cry, that would be ridiculous. What was there to cry about? You should have known it would end like this. You couldn't stand the thought of hearing your teammates I told you so's, nor the thought of them sticking to their guns, and not being there for you when you needed them, because they'd warned you. You decided that you wouldn't need them, then, which definitely was not fueled partly by your ex-girlfriend's words about them probably hating you. No, you were fine. Everything was fine.

You woke the next morning sadder than you'd been the night before. The anger had faded, leaving a hole in your chest, where the words you'd overheard were etched permanently. You knew that, in this state, it would take just one person asking if you were okay for you to break, and that was not an option. You would act as normal as possible, no one would suspect anything, and you could cry when you got home, not before.

-----

You wished you didn't have such perceptive teammates. You could have sworn you'd acted normally, completely normally, as you headed into the locker room that morning, joking around with Pina and Ona, and doing your best to keep a smile on your face. It was like the older girls had some internal alarm that went off when you weren't okay, and you felt their eyes flitting over to you throughout the morning gym session.

Still, you held strong, avoiding the girls that were watching you carefully, instead spending time with the younger girls, who were happy to joke around, which keep your mind off things. Your first real test came in the form of Lucy Bronze.

Everyone was walking out to the pitch, when she fell into step with you, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

"How did your surprise dinner go?" She asked. You'd completely forgotten that you'd told Lucy about that. She was one of the only ones who could be civil when talking about your girlfriend, taking the time to ask you about her, even though you knew she held the same opinions as the others.

"Oh. Fine. It was good." You replied shortly, and Lucy couldn't help but be slightly confused when you shrugged out from under her arm, and jogged away. You weren't one to spare details when telling a story, but you had evidently not wanted to talk about it. That wasn't like you.

"What special dinner?" Ingrid asked, coming up on the other side of Lucy as you literally ran away. Mapi was on her other side, also looking curiously at Lucy.

"She was surprising her girlfriend by cooking her dinner last night," Lucy explained and Mapi frowned.

"I don't like that girl." She stated plainly. "She's not good enough for our pequeña."

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows how you feel about her, love, you don't need to remind us every time she's brought up."

Mapi ignored her girlfriend. "She answered strangely, no? Normally she's talktative whenever someone asks about her girl, but she ran away from you." The Spaniard observed, watching as you sprayed water on Pina's head, your smile not quite reaching your eyes.

"Yeah, I guess. You know she hates hearing how much everyone dislikes her girlfriend though, it was probably just that." Lucy dismissed, but Mapi's eyes stay trained on you.

"Hmm."

"María, please don't get involved in that again, you know how upset it makes her when everyone has something to say about her relationship," Ingrid said reproachfully, fully understanding the look in her girlfriend's eyes.

"I am not going to get involved," Mapi defended. "I am just going to see if anyone else has any observations..."

Ingrid sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Don't mention this to Alexia until you're sure something is going on, she'll freak out."

"I won't." Mapi promised, distracted. Ingrid walked away to talk to Frido, and Mapi immediately found Alexia standing with Irene, and marched over.

Ingrid abruptly stopped talking, watching as Mapi seemingly did exactly what she ahd told her not to do.

"What?" Frido asked, following Ingrid's eyes to where Mapi was standing with the captains.

"Mapi's convinced something happened with y/n and her girlfriend, and I told her not to say anything because you know how y/n gets, especially not to Alexia, and look. She's doing exactly what I said not to." Ingrid sighed, exasperated.

"I don't like that girl." Frido said, frowning at the mention of your girlfriend.

Ingrid threw her hands in the air. "No one does! That doesn't mean we have to get all up in y/n's business. The more we push, the less likely she is to listen to us."

"Alright, relax, I agree with you." Frido said. Ingrid glared at Mapi from across the pitch, the Spaniard very obviously avoiding eye contact with her girlfriend. Jona called them over to start a drill, then, and all conversations came to a halt. For now.

-----

You weren't oblivious to the increase of attention on you after talking to Lucy, but you were determined not to acknowledge it. Your teammates were stubborn, though; almost as stubborn as you. You were walking off the pitch at the end of training, towards the locker room, when Alexia and Mapi appeared on either side of you.

"How was your night last night?" Alexia asked innocently, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

"Fine?" You asked, feigning confusion.

"Do anything fun?" Mapi wondered.

"No." You said, because you weren't sure you could even discuss your ex at this point. Lucy had brought it up before, and you'd barely made it through that brief conversation.

"Really?" Both girls said in unison. You rolled your eyes.

"Yes." You huffed, getting frustrated, and they could tell. Alexia grabbed your wrist, stopping you, and her and Mapi moved to stand in front of you, blocking your path inside.

"Lucy said you did something fun with your girlfriend?" Alexia asked, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Mapi's arms were crossed, and it really felt like you were in trouble.

"Yeah, we had dinner. Can I go now?"

"No, you're being weird. Did something happen?" Mapi said, stepping closer to you.

"Nope," you shook your head stubbornly.

"Pequeña, you seem upset," Alexia reached out a hand to rest on your shoulder, but you moved out of the way.

"I am not upset." Your voice was completely devoid of emotion, and Mapi and Alexia exchanged looks, not used to you acting so stand offish towards them.

"If something happened, you can tell us," Alexia stated, not deterred by your behavior.

"I don't even know why you care, you said you didn't want to hear if something happened." You scoff. Your face is one of anger, but your body language radiates sadness.

"When did I say that? I always want to know whats going on with you."

"Alexia, you told me not to come crying to you if you ended up being right about her." The blonde was speechless, absolutely stunned that you had taken that to heart.

"I wasn't being serious, y/n." She said quietly, somewhat gaining an understanding of why you were being so resistant to them. You remained quiet, gaze fixed on the grass under your feet.

"Seriously, pequeña, if something happened with you and your girl, you can tell us." Mapi cut in. You groaned, running a hand through your hair. You weren't getting out of this, you knew.

"We broke up. You guys were right. Happy?"

"I am so sorry, y/n." Alexia sighed, moving closer as if to pull you into a hug. Instead, you pushed in between her and Mapi, stalking towards the locker room.

"No you aren't. You don't have to pretend you care. You don't want to hear about it, and I don't want to talk about it." You snapped over your shoulder, ignoring the way they followed you, calling your name.

You made it inside the locker room, aggressively throwing your things into your bag, and stomping back out towards the parking lot, completely ignoring the way every member of the team was watching you, concerned. Alexia and Mapi stood in the door, once again blocking your path.

"Y/n, stop," Mapi said. The room was quiet as everyone watched the standoff.

"Move." You said through clenched teeth. You were blinking back tears, and Alexia and Mapi softened at the sight. You took your opportunity, shoving them out of your way, and walking out without a look backwards. This time, the girls didn't follow you out of the room, instead looking like they were at a complete loss for what to do. As you walked down the hall, you heard the unmistakable voice of Ingrid cutting through the silence.

"María, I TOLD you not to bother her." The room erupted into conversation, and you left the building, wiping angrily at the tears falling down your face.

-----

You made it home, showering and fighting the urge to just get in bed and fall into misery. Instead, you focused on de-girlfriend-ing your apartment. There wasn't much, as you'd only been together for a few months, but you'd filled a garbage bag of her stuff, and headed down to the dumpster. You threw the bag out, and it didn't bring as much satisfaction as you'd hoped it would. You walked back to the front door of the building, rather dejected, when a voice called out to you.

"Y/n, you haven't been answering any of my calls," your ex said, jogging to where you stood frozen by the door. "Hey, baby," she continued, wrapping her arms around you and trying to pull you in. You unfroze, shoving her off you.

"Don't touch me." You snarled, backing into the door.

"Don't be like that, you weren't supposed to hear any of what I said."

"Is that supposed to make it better?"

"You're being dramatic, y/n, stop being so sensitive. This is what I was talking about, you won't even have a mature conversation with me about this." The girl standing in front of you was completely unrecognizable, to you at least. You wondered if this was the person all of your teammates had seen.

"There's no conversation to be had. We're done. You are a horrible person, and I never want to see you again."

Her face contorted in anger. "Did your teammates tell you to do this? They're probably just tired of hearing you complain, y/n. They barely put up with you, you aren't going to find anyone other than me that will." She reached forward again, trying to hold onto your arm, and there wasn't any room behind you to back up. Her words felt like a slap to the face.

"Don't touch me," you said again, voice much weaker this time. You couldn't believe what she was saying; it was like she was a completely different person suddenly, yet she still knew you, and knew exactly what to say to hurt you.

"No, you're gonna hear what I have to say," she said, clearly frustrated with you standing up for yourself. Her hand closed around your wrist, and you prepared to pull away, to run, when another voice shouted out from not too far away.

"Get your hands off her," Mapi growled, coming from seemingly nowhere to shove your ex away from you. Her and Alexia stood, shoulder to shoulder, not unlike how they had earlier, glaring at the girl in front of them.

You jumped as a pair of arms wrapped around you, settling when you Ingrid stepped in front of you, bringing you in close to her chest. You clung to her, not really sure why you were so afraid. You knew your ex wouldn't have hurt you, but she really scared you when she'd tried to grab you, and you wanted nothing more than to be as far away from her as possible.

"You do not ever touch her again, understand? Or you will not enjoy what happens to you." Alexia warned, her voice angrier and more threatening than you'd ever heard it.

"Are you okay?" Ingrid asked, drawing your attention away from Alexia. You nodded shakily, gripping tightly onto Ingrid's sweater. She was blocking you from really seeing what was going on, positioned directly between you and your ex. You could still hear her though.

"Whatever," she scoffed. "She's not worth the trouble." Mapi made an angry noise, and Alexia started forward, but Ingrid's voice brought their focus back to you.

"She's not worth it. Let's get pequeña inside." The Norwegian said, shooting both girls a meaningful look. They watched your ex walk away, as you unlocked the front door, and headed towards the elevator. No one spoke as you stepped in, taking it up to your floor. They filed out of the doors after you, still silent, following you to your door.

"You don't have to stay." You said quietly, fiddling with the lock.

"We're staying." Alexia responded firmly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her and Mapi were still practically radiating anger as they entered your apartment. Ingrid was angry to, you could tell, but she hid it better, focusing instead on getting you a glass of water. She handed it to you, as her and Alexia took seats in your living room. Mapi remained standing, whole body still tense. You sat, in the corner of the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest. Your teammates hated how small you were making yourself, how shaken you seemed.

"Are you okay pequeña?" Alexia asked after a minute, scooting closer to you on the couch.

"Fine." You said. You were fine. She wouldn't have hurt you, you knew that. Everything she said, though, did hurt. It felt like she'd picked out your biggest insecurities, and told you that they were true. You'd been vulnerable with her, more than you'd ever been with anyone else, and she'd used it against you the second she could. You weren't overly eager to share anything else, not right now. This wouldn't fly with your teammates, though, that much you knew. They'd come to apologize, probably, but they wouldn't leave until they were sure, absolutely sure, that you were okay. One word answers weren't going to convince them. "I'm fine, really. She startled me, that's all."

They didn't look convinced. You supposed that was fair; they'd need more than that.

"Seriously, I'm alright. I dodged a bullet, clearly."

"What she said..." Alexia started, but you stopped her, shaking your head.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad." Alexia said.

"Ale," Ingrid said, shifting uncomfortably. The blonde ignored her.

"She is completely wrong, pequeña. We don't put up with you, y/n. We love you. We always want to hear what's going on with you, and what you have to say. You know that, don't you?"

You shrugged, really wishing they hadn't heard that part of the conversation.

"Can you tell us what happened with her?" Mapi said softly, finally taking a seat in the chair next to Ingrid. You hesitated, and it becomes very clear to them that you've internalized what they heard your ex say to you. "We want to hear, we want to help."

"I didn't mean what I said before, y/n. That because we warned you about her, we wouldn't be there if things went wrong. You could ignore every piece of advice I ever give you, and I'd still want to be there for you. Every time." Alexia cut in, resting a hand on your knee. You didn't shift away from her this time, which she took to be a good sign.

With a sigh, not meeting any of their eyes, you told them everything. Everything she'd said on the phone about you, the things that made your cheeks burn with humiliation, your stomach twist with anxiety. The words felt like they burned on the way out of your mouth, the fear that your friends would agree with them almost choking you. Of course, they didn't.

You'd barely finished talking when Mapi abruptly rose from her seat, hands clenched in tight fists and walked without a word into the kitchen. You looked after her, confused, but Ingrid just shook her head.

"She's angry, she just needs a minute."

You nodded slowly, trying to wrap your head around the fact that Mapi was so angry on your behalf that she could barely contain her feelings.

You looked to Alexia, her hand still resting on your knee, finding her deep in thought. She cleared her throat before speaking.

"You are right, pequeña, you definitely dodged a bullet. I am so sorry she said those things about you. None of them are true, not even one. You are a wonderful, thoughtful, kind person. You deserve so much better than her."

You nod your head weakly at her reassurance. You weren't convinced, but it made you feel better, if only marginally. Mapi reentered the room again, sitting not in the chair she was in earlier, but squishing herself into Ingrid's chair. It was always interesting to watch them together; wherever one of the struggled, the other picked them up, always, without a second thought. Ingrid scooched over in the chair, face unchanged and still fixed on you, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend and squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. Mapi visibly relaxed once her body was in contact with Ingrid's, like all of her muscles had un-tensed, and some of the anger was pushed out of her body.

That was how a relationship was supposed to be, you thought. You'd never felt more like an idiot in your entire life, yet still, your insecurities swirled around your head, and you felt like you were drowning in them.

"So you don't... you don't think she was right?" You ask in a small voice, peeking at the girls' faces. They all look shattered at your question, like it was causing them physical pain that you thought it possible that they didn't actually care about you, that you believed even a word of what that awful woman had said to you.

"No. She is completely, entirely wrong." Alexia said, sounding like she was pleading with you to believe her.

"I just thought she really liked me." You whispered, and it appears Alexia couldn't hold herself back anymore, moving closer and smooshing you into her arms. You cried softly into Alexia's sweatshirt, never having been more grateful in your life for anything, than you were in that moment that she was there, that all of them were there. Your captain wrapped you up safely in her arms, and the strength with which she held you did even more to convince you that she meant what she said; she wanted, more than anything, to be there for you.

"Voy a matar a esa puta." You heard Mapi declare. Alexia hummed in agreement against you.

"You're not going to kill anyone, María." Ingrid dismissed. "Not by yourself, and you'll have to beat me to it."

You looked up in surprise, seeing a satisfied grin on Mapi's face, and a fiery look on Ingrid's. If you ever wondered how 2 seemingly different people made a relationship work, you had your answer. Deep down, Ingrid could be just as protective, just as reckless as Mapi was when it came to people she loved.

You tried to pull away from Alexia, having stopped crying, but her arms only tightened around you.

"No, you are staying right here, where no one can ever make you sad again." Alexia said decisively. You stifle a laugh, but give up your attempts to escape. Your words come out slightly muffled when you speak again.

"Can you guys not tell everyone about what happened? They can know we broke up, but the whole team will just freak out if they know what she said, and I don't want to deal with that."

Ingrid and Alexia easily agree to your request, but Mapi remains silent. Finally, you do pull away from Alexia to stare suspiciously at the defender. Ingrid is tilting away from her girlfriend, an exasperated expression on her face.

"María, what did you do?" You asked. Mapi smiled sheepishly.

"I may have asked Lucy and Mario if they were free later to pay your ex a visit, and I also may have told them what we overheard."

"Mapi," you groaned.

"I didn't know you didn't want people to know! Besides, it will be easier to scare her away from you with more people. Especially those two!" You weren't impressed, but Alexia evidently was, a contemplative expression on her face.

"No, Ale, please don't let this happen," You begged, switching your attention to the normally more cool-headed individual.

"You can't go threaten that girl, no matter how much she deserves it." Alexia said, and Mapi deflated, a frown finding it's way onto her face. You sigh, relieved. "At least not right away. We'll give it a few weeks, until she lets her guard down."

"Alexia!" You yelped, and she simply smiles softly at you.

"No one messes with our pequeña. Ever." Alexia shrugged, relatively unbothered by your slight annoyance.

It wasn't actual frustration, though. You knew they were just joking around. Well everyone except for Mapi; she was definitely being serious. Regardless, it felt good to know they had your back; like further confirmation that they didn't feel at all how your ex had said they did. You should have listened to them from the beginning, but more than that, you should have never listened to your ex, not when everything your teammates did today, and everyday, proved her to be wrong.

-----

[webslingingslasher]

spiderman saves cherry one time (but not even from smth serious) and suddenly she falls in love and tells peter ab her new obsession w him that she didn’t understand before and he’s literally cheering on the inside at how she’s closer to falling for him without realising

happy sunday!

--

'you know how you're always trying to get me to like spider-man?'

'yes.'

you hold the back of your hand to your forehead and dramatically swoon, your back lands on peter's bed. 'i've been swayed.' peter's got a strong feeling it's because you ran into spider-man today but he has to pretend he doesn't know that yet.

'did you have another dirty dream?' you gasp at the question, peter rushes out he was just joking. 'you're not funny, fyi.'

'you're cute when you have a crush.' you kick your feet on his bed, peter's being extra annoying. 'i don't have a crush! i was going to tell you i saw him today but nope, nevermind.'

peter knows how to work around your attitude. it's a special trick he's learned. 'you met spider-man? that's so cool, where were you?' you grin at him and start speed talking, peter loves being right.

'the bookstore! well, outside the bookstore. when i was leaving i was reading the back of a book and i walked right into him! i dropped my book and he caught me and when i looked up, bam, spider-man. he grabbed my book for me and asked if i was okay, like i didn't run into him!'

you replay the moment, you swoon again. 'ugh, petey, he was tall and so broad! it felt like i ran into a wall, but he was also like... i could've given him a hug and he wouldn't mind.' you lift your head up to look at peter, it's a similar feeling with him.

'i think he's kind of like you. cause you're mr. strong guy but you're the perfect amount of soft for cuddles. basically, i think i'm gonna marry spider-man.'

peter has to act like he's jealous, he doesn't mind. you like spider-man now and nothing else beyond that matters. if anything, this is a bonus for him.

'please tell me you didn't get his number, i can't compete with a superhero.'

'no!' you think about it for a second, you're not spider-man's number one fan but you see clips and articles online all the time. 'i don't think spider-man dates, i've never seen him out on one. but also, i don't think he can eat dinner with his mask on... wait, do you think he dates outside the mask and has to pretend he isn't spider-man?'

peter blinks two times, 'i don't know, i've never thought about it.' he's very flat with his reply. you huff, he's no fun. 'if you were spider-man, do you think i would know?'

'um, well, if you don't know i'm spider-man, then no, i don't think you would know.' you nod, he makes a good point. 'fair.' you keep thinking about it, you'd be thrown for such a loop if that happened to you.

'that's crazy. imagine dating someone for months or years and he tells you he's spider-man, i think i'd freak out. i wonder if anyone in his life knows who he is. wait, do you think there are people just walking around the city that know spider-man's true identity?'

peter didn't prepare himself for hypotheticals, he's wondering why he wanted you to like his alter ego so much. when you didn't care, you didn't ask questions.

'what do you think he looks like? i think he looks like you, he's probably cute. do you think he's our age? damn it, i should've asked him all of this when i had him in front of me.' you sigh again, searching for your phone you youtube his name and start watching compilations of fights caught on film.

'god, he could throw me around like nothing.'

peter grumbles out the corner of his mouth, 'i could throw you around like nothing.' you happily hum, the idea is enticing. 'could you wear the suit while you do it? wait, you better not, i wouldn't be able to stop myself from... things.'

you stare at the screen, you start to have flashes of imagery and you bite down on your bottom lip. 'oh god, i'm feeling a hyperfixation coming on.' spider-man is hot, his strength, his power, how fucking kind he is.

you sit up to look at peter, 'wanna makeout?' peter wants to know how he went from mentally begging you to like spider-man, to actually being jealous of how you fawn over him. 'i'm not a placeholder for your fantasies.'

'i never said you were. come kiss me... and maybe get between my thighs and make me feel good.' spider-man is attractive because of the mystery, peter's hot because, fuck, just look at him. peter's giving you a look that's testing, he's baiting you for more information. 'don't make me beg, it's not cute.'

'no, you just wanna kiss me because you're hot and bothered over spider-man.' it shouldn't bother him, but it does. 'i don't want spider-man's fingers in me, i want yours.'

'only because you can't have him.' you groan, he's dragging it out more than he needs. 'maybe i do, maybe he's not scared to touch me.' peter's quiet, you immediately fill in the silence. 'wait, that's me being bratty. i'm not trying to force you into sex.'

peter smiles, 'you can't force the willing, cherry.'

you pat the empty space between your legs, 'then will you come fill me up? please?' peter doesn't need to be asked a third time, you're instantly settled the second he's caging you under him and pressing his lips on yours.

peter's fingers drag up your thigh, you sigh into his mouth. 'mhm, spider-man.' peter's done, he pulls off you and you're whining and trying to keep him over you. 'no! i was kidding, i swear i was just kidding!'

'too late. you're cut off, think about your actions.'

'fine. but you know who would've found that funny?' peter raises his eyebrows, he knows what's about to come. 'say his name one more time and see what i do.'

'will you punish me and show me who i really belong to?'

and... oh, that has peter bricked up.

why didn't he think about that? he would have proved how much better he is, he could've kissed you breathless until you're babbling and only whimpering his name. and the way you're looking at him tells him this was more of a ruse than anything.

peter's never dated a brat, he's still learning your quirks. you blink pretty, you have a way of acting like an innocent virgin after saying something dirty, it's an unspoken card you always pull out when convenient.

peter grips the skin above your knees and pulls you into him, your hips slam into his. 'think you can be quiet this time?' you shake your head, peter grins at your messy hair. 'no?'

peter leans down, his lips brush yours. he whispers against your mouth, a hint of a kiss. 'didn't think so.'

and peter makes you say his name so many times, spider-man's is a distant memory. 

[hypewinter]

Here's a little double the trauma for the price of one story for you folks.

So basically Danny got captured by the GIW and was experimented on / tortured until he died and was reincarnated as Danyal Al Ghul. He attempts to adapt to his grandfather's teachings but just can't get behind them unlike his older brother. This culminates in Danny getting caught trying to help an injured animal.

When he refuses to kill it, Ra's decides he's had enough and strikes Danny down then and there. Damian, who was watching all of this go down, disobeys his grandfather for the first time and attempts to resurrect Danny using the Lazarus pits. But Danny's body sinks to the bottom and doesn't return. This devastates Damian and Talia when she gets back.

Meanwhile Danny opens his eyes to find himself in the one place he never wanted to be again, the GIW research facility. The Lazarus pits had responded to the traces of ectoplasm within his body and opened up a portal back to his home dimension. All across the spider verse style you could say. Anyways Danny spends the next decade being experimented on while Damian spends it pretty close to canon albeit with a little more resentment towards Ra's and a little more grief towards the batfam (he feels like he's somehow replacing his little brother by hanging out with them).

Eventually a prison break happens within the GIW facility. Whether because they captured a powerful ghost like Pandora or something or because Clockwork did something, it doesn't matter. What matters is that Danny takes advantage of the chaos to go back through the very portal he got spit out of all those years ago.

Imagine the league's surprise when their youngest heir suddenly comes crawling out of the pits without looking even a day older than when he was first thrown in. The reason for this is because the scientists at the facility thought that Danny was growing in order to simulate being human and gain sympathy. He was always severely punished for this until the remaining ghost part of him eventually adapted to stop his human half from growing. He's now pretty much stuck at the age of 5 or so. Don't worry as he eventually heals from his trauma, he'll start growing again.

Anyways the league, especially Talia is trying to keep it on the downlow that Danny is back. She knows that if Damian finds out, he'll immediately come and try to take back his little brother. Unfortunately for them, they were a little too quiet and Damian gets hella suspicious. So he goes on a solo mission to see what they're up to. He sneaks into Nanda Parbat in the middle of the night and finds a sleeping boy in his baby brother's old room. At first Damian thinks that the league cloned his brother. But when Danny wakes up and stares at him with those big blue eyes he just knows.

So Damian takes Danny with him back home where the batfam is absolutely baffled about where he got this kid from. They're also flabbergasted when Damian speaks to the boy in soft Arabic and has the most gentle and loving expression on his face. This can't be the same demon brat right?

[fandomfucker]

Hey bestie

I’ve loved you stuff for ages so I thought you would be a good writer for a lil idea I had!

Poly! Judgement Day x reader (or just Rhea Ripley ) where bubbly (but smart and snarky) reader gets moved to smackdown during the draft and only sees the rest of her partners one or two days a week.

She acts independently like it doesn’t bother her that she has to travel alone, and doesn’t tell her partners that she’s had trouble making friends at smackdown. But it’s taking a toll on her.

When she starts seeing them post more photos without her and all text her less she finally loses it.

After a long day of losing a championship match reader goes home to find out that her partners didn’t even know that she had a match that night and barely acknowledge her homecoming. Reader cries herself to sleep alone in their kingside bed.

Hurt/comfort ensues

- I hope this wasn’t too long 💕,

🟧Anon

Thank you so much for all your support!!🫶

Definitely get toxic relationship vibes with this so i kinda played into it a little. Also, this doesnt actually follow anything because I dont actually really watch Smackdown, pls dont kill me🙏

Some of the dialogue and resulting reactions/scenarios are from this list by @judgementdaysunshine and @romanthereigns

Word count: 4,473

Reader’s POV

It felt like my heart had been ripped in two and then thrown in a woodchipper.

Without any kind of warning or anything, I had just been removed from my partnership with the Judgment Day and put on Smackdown instead of Raw.

Backstage in our shared dressing room it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the five of us all stood around in stunned silence.

Dominik was the first to break it as he launched himself at me, cradling my head to his chest as the news began to sink in.

Tears began to well up in my eyes as I stared off over his shoulder at nothing. Our hug was jolted when Damian, Finn, and Rhea joined us, surrounding and enveloping us whole.

I blinked until the tears receded, refusing to cry over an unfortunate situation such as this.

I felt tears on my shoulder from one of my partners and heard the shaking sobs of the others, making it just that much harder to not cry myself.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from our group hug, wiping away any remaining strays.

I cleared my throat, "This isn't going to change anything, okay? We all still love each other and at the end of the day, we all go back to the same home. We'll be okay."

Dominik nodded, keeping a hand on my waist as he wiped away his own tears. Catching Damian also wiping away his tears I sent him a small smile, hugging into his waist.

"You're right, dove. It might be hard, but we'll make it work just like we always do." Rhea smiled as she cradled my face in her hands.

I nodded my head, smiling at her in return before removing myself from the boys' holds on me and crushing her body into mine, holding onto her waist tightly.

Finn stood to the side of her and took one of my hands in his, "Lass, this isn't goodbye, and it never will be. You're going to do great by yourself, really get the chance to show everyone just what all you're capable of."

Nodding my head again against Rhea's chest, I squeezed his hand in acknowledgment and comfort as I took in all my partners in the group locker room for what was possibly the last time.

"I'll make you guys proud."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two smackdowns later and I still had yet to make any of them even remotely proud.

Turns out, even if you leave a group, people still hold grudges against you for being in that group.

Rhea and I had obliterated the entire women's division both individually and as the occasional tag team so no one liked me or even so much as acknowledged I was there.

The ignoring was worse than any bullying or ambushes I could have anticipated.

The only woman in the locker room that would even look at me was the new girl from NXT, Blair Davenport but the others had warned her about me, so she too stayed away.

All the men wouldn't talk to me either more than a 'hello' in passing because my boys had swept through them too.

Apparently creating grudges left and right isn't as fun as I thought, once those I made the grudges with are no longer with me. I had burned all the bridges I now needed to keep from drowning.

We managed to work our schedules out enough so that we'd all be able to see each other once or twice a week, unless there was a PLE in which we'd be together that whole week.

I was given a newer design along with new beefs. Instead of my usual black and dark purple I wore more pastel colors. Baby blue, lilac, light yellows, etc. I was given extensions and my makeup was much less dramatic. My shorts were traded for skirts and my hand symbols for hearts.

I was told they were wanting to take some more creative liberties for me and I could either get on board with it or leave.

My first match on Smackdown was against the new girl, Blair Davenport who wanted to "show the world what she's made of" and decided to try and make me her example.

Long story short; I won. And that really didn't do me any favors, except to get me a match against Chelsea Green. The winner of which would be getting a shot at the Women's Championship title against Bayley.

Sitting in the locker room after winning my match against Chelsea I sat in the corner with my knees to my chest as I texted the Judgment Day group-chat.

Y/N: Guys!! I got a match against Bayley for the title next week!! We're about to have two womens champs in the JD!😁😁💪💪

With the different time zones I wasn't expecting an immediate reply so I just went ahead and began scrolling through Instagram until it was time for my promo.

Rhea's post came up first. It was just a picture of her dinner, at a fancy restaurant, and you could see Dominik's shirt and hands in the background.

Some of us go on dates with each other by ourselves all the time so I thought nothing of it, just liked it and kept scrolling.

Until I saw that Damian had uploaded a friends-only story. Clicking on it, it was a mirror selfie of him and Finn wearing tuxes, a peak of a flowy red dress just out of frame. The next slide was a full picture of Rhea in her dress. Her dress that I had given her.

My eyes stung a bit that my partners had all gone out on a really nice date without me, but I blinked it away because it didn't matter. It was one date and I'm on the other side of the country right now, they can go on one date without me. It's fine.

When it was time to do my promo, someone came and escorted me to the specific area where my favorite unbiased interviewer, Cathy Kelley, was waiting for me. Her face lit up when she saw me as I barreled towards her.

Crushing her into a hug, we both squealed with delight at finally seeing each other for the first time in forever.

We caught up and did my promo and decided to go out for a really late dinner together after the show. I told her about my struggles with the women on the roster while she spilled about her own personal problems.

"Oh! Let's take a cute little dinner date picture for Insta!" Cathy exclaimed pulling out her phone. I agreed and joked that we should hold hands across the table like a real date and she agreed.

She posted the photo and we watched as the comments rolled in from the fans. Some were loving it while others thought she might be dating both Rhea and me now. We laughed at some of the comments before going back to our conversation.

Wrapping up dinner, Cathy revealed to me that while she would be on Smackdown more often than before, she still wouldn't be there every week.

"It's okay, its not your fault," I forced a smile before we made our way to our separate hotel rooms. "I'll see you tomorrow though?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course! Sweet dreams, Y/N," She replied before we went our separate ways.

Two hours later, now laid in my hotel bed about to go to sleep, and the only response I'd gotten was a thumbs-up reaction from Finn. Secretly, I hoped my partners were just too busy planning something special for me when I got home and didn't want to accidentally ruin the surprise.

Deciding to just get over it, I went to bed, dreaming of finally being with all my partners again, going on a date with all of us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of my phone's notifications woke me up early the next morning. I reached out, aiming for the nightstand where I had left my phone to charge the night before. I blindly hit around the area until I felt my phone, bring it up to my half-open eyes, blinking rapidly at the burning brightness of the screen.

The screen was filled with angry texts from my partners.

Finn: What the hell were you doing with Cathy???

Rheas: Were you on a date last night???

Hello???

Y/N!

Damian: Answer us Y/n!!

Dominik: Y/n answer your fucking phone this is insane

My eyes teared up in fear at my partners' reactions. They seemed genuinely upset, especially with the combined 24 missed calls in a 4-hour time period.

I just texted back a simple, "We just went out to dinner and thought the picture would be cute. Nothing more." before getting up and going about my day. With my next flight leaving in just a few hours, I had a lot to do before I could even get to the airport.

After getting out of the shower, I checked my messages only to see no response from any of my partners. Clicking on the chat, I saw that I had been left on read by all four of them. I tried to push aside my feelings but lately it was getting harder and harder to do so.

But, I managed to pull myself together just enough to make it on my flight home just in time.

It was mid-Sunday by the time I made it to our shared house, and I knew I'd be alone for the next couple days since my partners' flight out for Raw had been around the same time as my flight in.

The rest of the day was spent self-loathing in the bathtub as I watched a few of Bayley's old matches, trying to give myself the upper-hand for our match by learning how she fights.

I fell asleep in bed that night, shoveling ice cream into my mouth as I watched old reruns of Full House on the TV.

The next morning was nice because I was finally able to sleep-in after so many early mornings. I was able to make myself a cup of coffee and make french toast (something I hadn't been able to have in forever) as I sat on the back porch watching the birds fly through the trees.

My nice little fantasy, however, was broken when I received an Instagram notification. This one was a picture Rhea had posted; a selfie of the four of them in the car they were driving.

I was too emotionally exhausted for my eye to even begin welling up. So, to save myself from anymore heartbreak and/or grievances, I blocked all four of them on both socials and messages and told myself I'd unblock them later that day.

Later that day turned into fifteen minutes later when I started feeling guilty, so I unblocked their messages and left their socials alone. I'd see the pictures eventually on my feed posted by fans, but hopefully it would take a little bit longer than if they weren't blocked. None of them ever bothered to text me individually or the group chat of all five of us the rest of that week, even after I texted them to congratulate them on their wins form Monday. 

Brushing off the avoidances form them, I just went about my week. A few facetime interviews and a podcast. I answered emails and went to the gym. I cleaned the house and did laundry, wondering when on Earth my partners would get home.

I even called them to ask to no avail. But I saw the posts on Instagram of them a few states away hanging out, going on dates. They had decided to do a road-trip back home instead of a flight. 

The uncomfortable lump in my throat increased with each swipe to the next picture. As I swiped through the pictures, my growing fury and heartache increasing in a swirl of mixed feelings, Dominik texted me, saying they'd be home Thursday night.

Around the same time as my flight out to the next city for Smackdown.

I sent a thumbs up in reply and threw my phone off to the side so I wouldn't have to think about it for the next little while.

I just went ahead and began packing all my stuff for Smackdown Friday night, making sure I had everything I needed for my new ring gear I was about to debut. It was a special occasion, after all. I was about to be the next women's champion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday night had arrived and I now stood in the guerilla bouncing around as I shook out my nerves. Onlookers shot me weird looks as I went through my warm-ups as well, they weren't your typical ones as I had learned them in high school doing theatre.

Bayley passed me, giving me a look I couldn't quite decipher as her music hit first and she walked out. 

A minute later my own started playing and I walked out, swaggering my way down the aisle. When I was told to change my look, and my attitude as well, to make myself not apart of the Judgment Day anymore, I was finally given my own theme music, but I missed our group theme more than anything.  My now long hair swung as I made my way up the stairs and into the ring to do my entrance against the ropes.

Stepping into the middle of the ring, I faced Bayley as our title match was announced and the title showcased to the audience. I caught her mouthing something at me, making me grin sadistically. You can take the girl out of the faction but you can't take the faction out of the girl.

"May the best woman win."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn't win.

It was a long match that wound up being longer than anyone anticipated, ourselves included.

Bayley eventually got the best of me when my head hit the turnbuckle at just the right angle for me to black out for a second, leaving room for Bayley to pin me as I was too disoriented to kick out.

The ref had to help me backstage to the medics after the lights went out, signaling the commercial break. She even had to hand me a towel to catch the blood beginning to flow from the small cut.

The on-sight paramedic gave me some ice for my head as she checked my pupils. "Yeah, I think you got a minor concussion there, hon. I'll let Mr. Aldis know but you should sit down and rest until you can get an uber, you shouldn't be driving." 

She left the room and I immediately started bawling my eyes out, making my headache worse. Not only did I now have a concussion which would cause me to be out for at least a few weeks, but I was lonely, my partners were ignoring me and probably didn't love me anymore, and I lost my one shot at the title that I had earned and fought for entirely by myself.

My cries attracted the attention of a few passerby but only one stopped and came in to check on me.

"Hey, Y/n, I'm really sorry. That was my fault, I totally botched that, I'm so sorry. If you want I can take you back to the hotel so you don't have to pay for an uber? I just have one more promo to do and then I'm all done."

I looked up to see Bayley standing there, her title nowhere in sight, looking so sincerely upset and apologetic it just sent another wave of tears down my already soaked cheeks.

"That'd be great, thank you," I laugh-cried as she helped me down from the table and back to the shared locker room.

All the other girls stared at me as I walked in, my face and eyes puffy and my forehead bandaged, as I continued to hold an ice pack to the top of said bandage. No one else seemed to have any sympathy for me and rightfully so. I hadn't actually done anything in the past 2 years to warrant any.

Bayley brought me over to my locker and began helping me get all my stuff together. "Why are you helping me?" I croaked pitifully.

She avoided eye contact, "Because I know what it's like. To lose your faction--the people who mean the most to you and are always supposed to be there for you, I mean."

A small laugh escaped me as well as another tear. I swiped it away before offering my hand to her. "Truce?"

"Truce," She nodded and shook my hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally getting home late the next day, I was relieved to find all four of my partners already at home. I was nervous to see them after all the ignored communications and their Instagram posts of dates I wasn't invited on, but I was tired and hurt and wanted my partners.

Unlocking the door, I stepped into the entryway, smiling softly as I heard my partners' rambunctious laughter coming from the living room. I left my suitcase by the door and made my way over to them.

They were playing the new WWE2k24 game with the new Xbox Rhea had gotten from being on the cover.

"Hey guys! I'm home!" I announced my presence from behind the couch as I walked in.

I received a chorus of "hey babe"s from all four of them, not one of them turning around to actually acknowledge me. And that stung worse than any failed title match or concussion. 

It was like my heart had been ripped out and stabbed repeatedly with a knife before being set on fire. I tried to tough it out and managed to get all the way to our shared bedroom before I burst into tears again.

My pent up feelings, mixed with the concussion, my heavily drugged brain resulting from said concussion, and the overall exhaustion from everything all at once finally came to a head as I sobbed.

I collapsed to the floor, my knees being too weak to hold me up. Crawling up into the bed, I laid there and cried into my pillow as I cradled another to my chest. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe and snot ran down my face.

Eventually, I fell asleep, having not even bothered to change my clothes or take off the makeup that was now streaked down my face. 

I just hoped that when I woke up it would've all been a dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV

The four members of the Judgment Day sat around the living room, playing what they agreed would be the last match before they made dinner.

"Alright," Damian spoke as he stood up and began stretching out his sore limbs, "Who wants what?"

"I want chicken tenders!" Dominik shouted excitedly. 

Rhea laughed and ruffled his hair, sliding her fingers through his silky strands. "Okay, well while Dame and I get started on dinner how about you and Finn go pull Y/N out of the shower and she what she wants."

Dominik nodded like a happy little puppy before grabbing Finn's hand and dragging him upstairs to go find their girlfriend.

They went first to the master bathroom, noticing the light was still off and there was no trace of her having taken a shower. They continued on into the bedroom where they saw the curled-up figure of their girlfriend.

Finn went and turned the bedside lamp on, emitting a soft glow about the room. 

The two of them rounded the bed to face Y/N and wake her up. Dominik saw her first and stopped dead in his tracks, the blood draining from his face causing Finn to rush over.

Before he could even ask what was wrong he looked at Y/N and no longer needed to ask. 

Her face was puffy from tears, her makeup smeared and streaked down her face making it even more evident she had been crying. The pillow she held onto with a death grip had a wet stain on the top of it from previously fallen tears.

But the thing they were most concerned about, was the small bandage on the top of her forehead. Dried blood seeped out from underneath the bandage and was crusted around and in her hairline, the whole area swollen and red.

"What the hell happened?" Dominik asked Finn as they watched Y/N sleep. 

"I dunno," Finn replied in the stunned silence. "We need to get Rhea and Damian, though."

Down in the kitchen, Rhea and Damian danced around each other grabbing various ingredients as well as silverware and dishes. They made idle chat and were laughing when Finn and Dominik bounded down the stairs. 

"What'd Y/N say she wants for dinner?" Damian asked the two of them, his back turned to them as he fiddled with a dial on the stove. 

"She's asleep, but you guys need to come see, something happened," Finn told the two of them.

They both looked up from what they were doing, Rhea grabbing a towel to dry her hands. "What's wrong?" She asked as she ran around the counter and up the stairs to their shared room.

"I'm not even sure," Finn replied.

The four of them raced up the stairs and down the hallway to their bedroom, Rhea leading the way.

She slowly rounded the corner to face Y/N and upon seeing her in the same state the other two had, threw her hand to her mouth in horror as she gasped at the sight before her.

Damian, right behind her, made it to her side to see what all the fuss was about and all the blood drained from his face when he did. "Oh my god."

"Should we wake her up?" Dominik asked, like a scared child.

Rhea, ever the caretaker of the group, chimed in. "No, let's just wait until she wakes up. You guys go back downstairs and finish making dinner and I'll stay here till she wakes up."

"If you're staying here then so am I," Finn argued, taking a seat on the small ottoman at the end of the bed. Rhea nodded reluctantly before looking at the other two.

They both nodded, knowing they wouldn't win any fight they picked. They both walked over and gave Y/N a small kiss on the forehead, the opposite side of where the bandage was, before shuffling out of the room and down the stairs. Now, all they had to do was wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until an hour later that Y/N finally began to stir.

Rhea and Finn both shot up, kneeling beside the bed as Fin gently stroked Y/N's cheek as she awoke. 

"What's going on?" Y/N asked groggily, thoroughly confused as hell and not knowing anything. After any normal nap, it takes a minute to even remember your own name, not to mention a nap after that kind of extreme emotional distress.

"We're just worried about you, sweetness," Rhea explained as gently as she could. If Y/N did actually have a concussion and didn't remember anything, she didn't want to freak her out any more than she possibly would already have.

"Why?" Y/N asked, gently pushing the two of them away form her to sit up and rub her eyes. In doing so, she felt the edge of her bandage and remembered everything. From losing the match, to making a truce with Bayley, to coming home and them not acknowledging her.

Rhea and Finn saw the look that overcame their girlfriend's face. Anger, betrayal, sadness.

She pushed them out of the way again, this time harder than any of them were expecting which sent the two flat on their asses as Y/N made a move to get out of bed.

"Woah, woah, woah. Where the hell do you think you're going?" Rhea immediately was on her feet and grabbed Y/N's arm to keep her from going any further. The look she received from Y/N before she pulled her arm out of her grip was scathing. 

"Nowhere that concerns you." She began to move towards the closet, starting to grab new clothes, seemingly to change into before she grabbed a bag and began stuffing the clothes in there.

"Y/N! What the hell is going on? Please, just talk to us!" Finn tried to reason with her. 

By now, the commotion had reached the ears of both Damian and Dominik downstairs and they raced up to the bedroom, just in time to hear their girlfriend's explanation.

"Talk to you? Talk to you?! I have been trying to talk to all four of you for weeks! And all I get in response is a thumbs up! Sometimes, not even every time!" She screamed, stepping out of the closet into full view of her partners. Clothes were left forgotten on the floor, and some half-hanging off their hangers as Y/N finally released all her pent-up emotions.

All four members of the Judgment Day stood in stunned silence as Y/N kept going, now unable to stop herself even if she tried.

"I was forcefully moved away from my partners, surrounded by people who hate me and then you four go out and have date nights without me. Constantly! I had a title match tonight against Bayley, we could've had two champions and you didn't even care! I lost because I hit my head and got a concussion and you don't care!" At this point, Y/N had started to grow emotional. Each word was a fight against the myriad of tears threatening to spill over.

The four of them felt awful, how could they have neglected their girl so badly for so long to get to this point?

"We're so sorry, cariño, we had no idea you even had a match last night-" Damian's attempts at an apology were cut off by Y/N.

"Of course you didn't! You never bother to talk to me anymore!" Her partners began to reach out for her as she started fully crying, the emotions winning this fight.

"I'm barely holding on," Y/N sobbed as she curled in on herself, rejecting any attempts at physical touch from her partners. "It's so bad, that my opponent had to come to my rescue after the match because no one else will even acknowledge me."

"Y/N," Dominik spoke, the sound of his heart breaking evident in his voice.

"No, just...don't," Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as she backed away from the four of them. 

The five partners stood around in silence, each member processing their emotions. 

Once Y/N's tears had slowed down, she wiped any remains off her face before facing her partners, who now surrounded her again. This time, however, they left a spot for her to escape.

"Hey, we're sorry, okay? But we promise to do better. This is new for all of us and we admittedly didn't handle it well but we're gonna fix that, alright?" Finn explained to her gently, so as not to scare her off.

"He's right, amor. We love you, so much. We'll do anything that you ask of us, please," Damian practically begged her.

Rhea and Dominik both clutched each other, tears streaming down their faces as they were both too choked up to speak, but they nodded in agreement to both of the boys' statements.

"Okay," Y/N broke down again, walking into the shared hug between the partners. They would make it up to her, just like they always did. Everything would be okay. They would be okay.

[m-ilkiee]

Pervert: Okkotsu Yuuta x Female Reader

summary: you know yuuta is a sweet, kind and socially awkward guy, but you had no idea he was also a... pervert?

warnings: aged up! Yuuta (Yuuta is 22 and reader is 19), college/university au, noncurse au, dark content, smut/nsfw, heavy dubious consent, female reader, perverted/toxic reader, perv! Yuuta, masturbation (male and implied female), panty theft, noncon vouyeurism, mention of sex toy, slight violence, panty eating, cunnulingus, face sitting, face riding, fingering.

r-18+ not suitable for anyone below the age of 18

wc: 2.2k

[masterlist] || [taglist] || [mainpage]

authors note: if you liked this, consider reblogging, sending asks and/or commenting your thoughts on it, it would be really appreciated ♡

YOU wouldn't have suspected that your borderline insomniac roommate was also a perverted fucker.

YUUTA was a dirty, panty-stealing creep who you just caught red handed with your panties pressed to his nose while he fucked his fist eagerly.

You stood in front of his doorway watching him, head thrown back in ecstasy, his eyes squeezed shut as his cock twitched in his grasp. Without another word, you immediately ran away from his room door with a hand to your mouth to stifle your cursing, the feelings of shame and horror dawning on you at once.

You knew that there was something suspicious about Okkotsu Yuuta, the genius of the Tokyo metropolitan university coming from a well-off family, who had such high marks he earned multiple scholarships. No one can be THAT talented without being fucked up one way or another, but you had assumed he was the exception.

You were appalled by his actions because you thought Yuuta would be different from the other disgusting college dude bros you had the unfortunate chance of meeting. He was supposed to be different; sweet, innocent, quiet and gullible to ignore that his shirts go missing and reappear in his drawer neatly folded, unaware of the fact that it was you that took them to inhale his scent while you buried your fingers inside your cunt.

It was supposed to be you that would be the perverted one, that would seduce him into your bed to do unquestionable things to him.

He was a degenerate like the rest of them.

That man that you caught masturbating was not the Yuuta that you imagined. No, he was more disgusting than any man you've met by just his singular action of getting off from your dirty underwear.

Filthy.

And it was even more disgusting that instead of thinking of how to move to another place or call the police probably, you were diving your hands into your night trousers. The memory of him pumping his veiny pale erect cock, with an angry dark red mushroom tip dripping with precum, shirt caught between his teeth and pants hung low enough that he could touch himself had you soaked.

You hated that your thighs trembled at the sight of his length, arousal leaking out of your sex. You should be grossed out, not all hot and bothered panting his name in the bathroom with your fingers playing with your clit while you clenched around nothing. You couldn't deny how sexy that scene was playing right in front of you, the cute guy everyone secretly had a crush on -including you, losing his fucking mind over your panties, sniffing it like it's the best thing in the world.

It feeds into your ego a little bit. A whole lot actually.

At the back of your mind, you wonder what you could get from blackmailing the school’s best student.

THE next day, it was awkward seeing Yuuta happily making breakfast with those dirty hands of his as if you hadn't seen him palm his cock with them before. You wanted to throw up, unable to contain your disgust when he dropped the plate of food in front of you. As much as it feels kind of hypocritical of you, the fact that he stole your undies to masturbate to instead of just fucking asking you made you feel violated.

A frown crossed his face as he looked at your reaction, clearly shocked at your lack of enthusiasm for his food. "You don't like pancakes?" He asked, clearly confused at your actions.

He didn't flinch when you threw the food at him only for it to land on the floor, shards of the ceramic plate scattering everywhere. He stayed still as you walked up to him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to your furious face.

"How. Dare. You?" You spat out with venom, your grip tightening. "How dare you pretend that everything is alright when I saw what I saw yesterday?" You screamed at the unresponsive man. "You’re a disgusting perverted creep that gets off from MY underwear!" Your glare becomes more hateful as you force shout. "And you think cooking breakfast and pretending nothing happened will make it go away?"

The entire house was quiet, save for your heavy breathing wafting through his ears after you poured your heart out. It was unnerving the way Yuuta was unresponsive despite you manhandling him, his eyes darkening with each passing moment and his aura changing into a more sinister one. You tried to stand your ground, yelling at him to fucking talk to you, despite your mind screaming back that he has an ulterior motive.

He took out his phone and unlocked it, turning the phone around to reveal the thumbnail of a video; it was you sitting on your bed, wearing only Yuuta's dress shirts and holding something in your hand -horror settling in your bones once you realize that it was your bullet vibrator.

Your eyes widened as you took the phone from his hand and pressed play, your voice chanting Yuuta's name repeatedly and how you wished it was him making you feel good. Embarrassment and fear flooded your face as you watched yourself masturbate in Yuuta's shirt, a shirt you lied that you hadn't seen in the laundry when he asked you. That shirt smelt so much like him and you, as usual, couldn't resist just leaving it there without using it for just a session or two before returning it back.

'Yuuta's intelligent, but not that smart, he isn't gonna think I'm with it anyways' You always told yourself. God, you were so so wrong.

Your eyes slowly trailed back up to the unamused expression of Okkotsu Yuuta, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Shaking, you put the phone aside and hung your head in shame.

Your hypocrisy has finally caught up to you.

"We're both depraved and disgusting perverts." You murmured, covering your face with your hands at the utter humiliation you had just witnessed. At this point, you’re sure you should just move out and never speak to him again. "You've known about this for a while, haven't you?"

Yuuta is silent, making your heartbeat in your chest as your thoughts flew in your head. While both of you were gross perverts, Yuuta was the only one who had evidence while you had nothing to pin on him. Normally, you would assume that he would never be the kind of guy to blackmail you, but what other reason would he have done it other than to have you cornered.

And if you tried to tell anyone, who are they going to believe? The school’s darling who happens to be on the dean’s list who has video evidence of you masturbating to his shirt or you?

You hate the answer in your head.

Taking his silence as an avenue, you decided to try and negotiate with him. Even perverts had some sort of humanity left in them, and if he had kept that video secret for so long, it meant there was truly something Okkotsu wanted from you. “Alright Yuuta. You win.” You sighed, not bothering to look at him as you started negotiating “Can we discuss this at least? I know you’re holding evidence of me doing…” it leaves a sour taste in your mouth when confronted with the fact you’ve just been caught, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Not when your fate is out of your hands. “... Just before we do irreparable damage at least.”

You’re met with another wave of silence as Yuuta gives you a once over and for a second your heart drops when you assume he might not give you a chance.

“Of course we can...” Yuuta, ever merciful, finally replied. “.. discuss this like adults. Let’s go upstairs and talk about it? My room is very private.”

If you weren’t so desperate to get that video out of his possession, you would have seen where this was going. But alas, his innocent and rational sounding voice lured you into a false sense of security and you nodded in agreement.

  THIS was not the idea of discussing it as adults you had in mind.

Moans of pleasure escaped your lips as Yuuta took a long sniff of your panties before darting out his tongue to lick your soaking wet crotch through it. His lips began peppering kisses and sucking every inch of your clothed crotch. “I’ve waited for this moment,” he hums in between kisses and licks, sending waves of pleasure down your spine.

His hands dug hard into your thighs, nail crescents imprinting on your skin as he greedily licked and teased you from the barrier, his cock twitching painfully from the scent, the taste and the moans escaping from your lips. For a moment, you thought that he was suffocating when he paused and you worried that maybe agreeing to sit on his face was a bad idea - after all, you've never done this before, until you felt long fingers shifting your panties aside and his tongue inside your wet cunt.

"Relax" was all he said when you yelped and jumped, strong veiny hands gripping on your thighs tightly before rocking your hips against his face with much vigor. You didn't know when moans of "please Yuuta, don't stop" escaped your lips or when your hips began to move according to his rhythm as well, desperate for pleasure. Your eyes rolled back when he decided to even be a bigger menace and circle your clit lazily with his thumb, picking up the pace seconds after he started. It was worth hearing your voice crack and only breathy moans escaping your lips, sending it right down to his leaking cock.

He's never been this hard before or this excited, you taste amazing on his tongue and you're even rocking his face like there's no tomorrow.

"I'm gonna cum soon, Yuuta-" you managed to cry out. "Are you okay with that?" You ask in between pants while riding his face. Even in your euphoria, you were worried that suddenly cumming all over his face would completely ruin the mood for him and that'll be the end of whatever you two were about to have before it even began. "Yuuta can you hear me? Are you sure you want me to cum in your … you know-"

"That's the whole point, fuck!" he muffled, rocking you faster to bring you closer to your orgasm, smiling a bit when you gasped in shock at the new rhythm before matching his movements. You swear he was enjoying this way more than you were, his voice slightly breaking. "Hurry up and do it babe, let me taste you, please-"

Without fail, the new pace brought you to the edge much quicker. Your head was spinning with all the sensation of pleasure filling up your body, from your toes to your head until the coil snapped. Relief washed over you as you rode out your orgasm while just repeating "thank you, Yuuta, thank you thank you, thank you …" over and over again until you stopped, legs trembling. You attempted to slip off Yuuta's body when you felt two hands grip your thighs tight to hold you in place.

"Yuuta?" You asked in confusion as his nails dug in deeper. Wasn’t this a two way transaction that the both of you would be done and over with so that you could pack your bags. "What are you doing? Aren't we done? I've already cum, it's your turn-"

You could hear him laugh between your thighs, the vibration causing aftershocks to your core. From your thighs, he made eye contact with you briefly as he spoke. "Who told you we're done?" His voice was strained, making your blood drain from your head.

"Huh? But you're- AH WAIT YUUTA I'M NOT… TOO SENSITIVE-"

Your cries fell on deaf ears as he began sucking on your clit and inching his fore and middle finger into your wet cunt till they hit the right spot. Before you know what's happening, your body is spasming as he fingers your cunt and sucks on your clit expertly, making the loudest, slurping and squelching noises. You're humping him desperately, your breathy moans indicating another high, nearly driving him mad with how hot you looked above him.

It was perfect.

A sweet face, tired eyes and a soft voice, who wouldn't think that he was such a pure, simple person?

He used to take offense whenever Maki always said that he could commit murder and get away with it because of how pathetic he looks, but as your panties had gone missing from your hamper and you didn't even think of accusing Yuuta, neither did you know that he knew it was you who stole twelve of his shirts and returned them, he realized that whatever charm he had was a blessing in disguise.

To you, he was none the wiser. You were so confident in your ability to pretend you weren’t even slightly interested in him that he wouldn’t suspect a thing.

But Yuuta always knew. He was always observant, keeping hidden cameras to watch you when his shirts were suspiciously disappearing and reappearing until his simple surveillance turned into a dirty little habit of jerking off to your performances and justifying his actions with you starting it first.

Maybe having such a pathetic face wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"That's it pretty girl, make a mess all over my face.”

taglist: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @cockonoi @rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @getonite @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @raven-nevra @tenjikusstuff4 @manchie55 @kawaiikoalagarden @straightfromheaven @ilovetwodmen @lovelyartistz @fushiqruo @megumisdivinedogs

divider by: @rookthornesartistry

[rainylana]

“I’m not ever gonna stop.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: reader and eddie are new parents. reader struggles to keep everything together for eddie.

warnings: dad eddie and mom reader, postpartum depression, new baby and all the things that go with it, language, stressed reader very emotional, breastfeeding.

“Oh, God.” You moaned in exhaustion, back against the closed door to your baby’s nursery after finally getting her to sleep after hours of crying. You opened your eyes, the trailer an absolute wreck. You knew you should listen to your doctor. When the baby sleeps, you sleep, but you had so much to do. Laundry, dishes, dinner. It had been days since you showered, absolutely covered in spit up, formula and piss.

Baby Johanna was only five weeks old, and as amazing and life changing those weeks had been, they’d also been the hardest and most challenged. You were physically and emotionally drained. Completely exhausted. She was the best thing to ever happen to you, without a doubt, but damn, did you miss sleeping a full night. Eddie of course, helped when he could, but he worked full time. Everyday 9 to 5.

Eddie knew you were having a hard time. He felt terrible he couldn’t do more, spend more time at home, but he carried a big responsibility by supporting the finances. You’d called Joyce almost everyday with questions. Why she wouldn’t stop crying? Why she never seemed happy? She fussed all the live long day. You felt so behind on everything. Your house, your life, your husband. You missed showering and wearing deodorant.

Your eyes fixated on your messy home, brain so exhausted and cluttered you didn’t know where to start. Wiping your sweaty face, you pushed yourself off the door to the living room, picking up trash off the floor and cold coffee cups. You cringed when you caught your reflection in the mirror hung above the table. Your hair was falling out of your bun atop of your head. You were pale as snow and had craters under your eyes, lips chapped and cry. Your t shirt was stained and torn at the arm, your black shorts on underneath. You looked horrendous, but house work was more important than a shower.

You were extremely depressed. Well, you didn’t know if you were more exhausted or depressed. Either way, you didn’t feel good. You felt yourself disassociating from your own body, having trouble concentrating and staying focused with your own mind. Half the time, you didn’t feel real. It made you feel crazy, but you couldn’t help it. You’d read about postpartum, Eddie had too, but you legitimately were struggling. Your daughter made it worth it, however. Father hood looked good on Eddie, you hoped he thought the same for you. 

Your baby looked just like him. She had dark curls already at her young age, a head full of hair. A little button nose, which Eddie says she got from you. Big brown eyes, from dad. A birthmark on her shoulder, from you. She was the most perfect thing you’d ever seen. It was hard to believe that you made her. It made you incredibly proud.

It had been just ten minutes. You’d gotten a small portion of the living room picked up when she starting screaming again. You had angrily thrown down the trash in your hands to the floor, groaning into your hands as you followed the cry. You’d held her in the rocking chair, trying your best to sooth her. You’d tried feeding her, which hurt badly. You’d never imagine your breasts would be so ginormous.

Another thirty minutes of her crying sent you into a wave of snotty tears until she finally fell asleep in your arms. You’d carefully put her in her crib, tiptoeing and praying to god above she wouldn’t wake up. You full heartedly believed she hated you, or at least was out to get you. She was never happy with you or what she did. Oh, but daddy? She loved him. He never did anything wrong in her eyes.

For the next two hours you tried to settle your baby while you attempted to clean. You never got much done, then she would start to cry again. She wouldn’t touch your boob, her diaper was clean. All she did was cry. You’d called Joyce and she assured you that nothing you were doing was wrong. Babies cried, they went through fits and phases. You just had to let her cry it out.

It was 5:30 when Eddie walked through the door, waving a bundle of red roses. “How’s my best girl!” He cheered, throwing his jacket on the couch.

“Shh, shh!” You panicked, running to cover his mouth. “I just got her back to sleep!”

He cringed under your hand. “Sorry.” He chuckled quietly. “Got ya flowers.”

You smiled softly, taking them in your hands and admiring them. “Thank you. They’re pretty. How was work?” You turned to lay them on the table, stepping over the baby mobile.

“Good. Boss says I’ve got a raise in the future if I pick up more hours.” He opened the fridge for a beer, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“More hours?” You frowned, tucking a hair behind your ear. “Don’t you think you work too much as is?” You tried speaking quietly, collecting all the dirty dishes to put in the sink.

“Yeah, I know, baby, but with little Joey now we could really use the money.” You would have smiled at the endearment he used for your daughter, but the idea of him picking up for hours made your throat grow thick. Eddie was your rock. You yearned for five o’clock at the start of each day.

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed, pushing a curl with your breath. You got out the broom from the closet to sweep the floor.

Eddie took a look around his home, watching how angsty and exhausted you were. He didn’t want to seem like a dick, but he was hungry. “When’s dinner, babe?”

“Oh, fuck.” You stopped your sweeping, head looking up to the ceiling as you closed your eyes. “Damn it, Eddie, I’m sorry,” You threw down the broom, not caring whether or not it made noise. “I’ve been so busy trying to get that…I’d say our daughter but I’m halfway convinced I have birth to some- some- spawn of satan, to sleep!” You stressed, running your hands through your hair.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie chuckled, placing down his beer as he stepped toward you. “Come here,” He pulled you into his arms and you melted into them. “Sorry you had a bad day, baby. Wanna order pizza?”

You mumbled a quiet yeah into his shirt, stifling a yawn. You wanted him to hold you all night, but you had so much to do. You pushed yourself away, grabbing the phone off the counter to hand it to him. “You order pizza and I’ll finish sweeping.”

“Honey,” Eddie peered down at you. “No sweeping. Take a break and sit down with me, yeah?”

You shook your head, sniffling. “No- no, I’ve got too much to do before she wakes up again, I-”

“You can do that tomorrow.” He picked the broom off the floor and put it in the closet. “I’ll order pizza and you go put on your cute little pj’s, alright? Have dinner with me.” He flashed you a million dollar smile.

You frowned, however, looking over the dirty home before you have a singular nod.

•

Today had been a good day. You’d been able to get a half decent night’s sleep, and Johanna wasn’t near as fussy as she had been yesterday. You’d gotten some house work done, cleaned the living room and did the dishes. All you had left was to catch up on laundry and clean your bedroom. You’d taken a shower in the morning before Eddie had left for work, even had breakfast with him.

Right now, you were nursing your baby girl in your arms, neck propped up on a pillow as you sat on the couch, eyes fixated on the game show on the tv. “Ow.” You winced lightly, chuckling as you looked down. “You don’t go very easy on mommy, you know?” Your nipples were extremely tender these days, swollen like a bunch of watermelons. Eddie adored it. It made you waddle just like when you were pregnant.

She’d fallen asleep after nursing for another twenty minutes, allowing you to sit there peacefully after you’d pulled your tank top back over you. Your eyes dropped tiredly, your head just lightly pounding from exhaustion. You looked down at your daughter, her face snuggled against your boob. You took your finger and gently caressed her cheek. She looked so much like Eddie. Her purple onesie was snug, her little belly poking out and her dark curls were messy at the top from all the wiggling around she did. When she was quiet like this, you could think. It really was worth it, all the work and lack of sleep. She made it worth it. Her and Eddie.

Carefully, you laid down on the couch and adjusted her on your chest. She moved just a little bit, her tiny fist gathering your dirty tank top in her hand. You smiled, pulling a blanket over top of you. You weren’t going to sleep. You were extremely paranoid about co-sleeping. Eddie assured you that you were being over dramatic, but you’d read horror stories about it.

You have her a kiss atop of her head and enjoyed the rest of your show.

•

“There’s my girl.” Eddie said in a childlike voice, front door still open from his arrival. You smiled widely as little Jo squealed in her baby mobile on the floor. Eddie threw his stuff down and went to her, lifting her out of her seat and kissing her cheek. “Baby, baby, baby, how’s my baby?” He repeated, lifting her up into the air to blow raspberries on her bellow. “How’s my little Joey Jo?” He tucked her into his side, face red from how hard he smiled, finally turning to you.

“How’s my other girl?” You laughed as he came over to give you a peck on the lips.

“I don’t remember the last time I was thrown into the air like that.”

“Oh, yeah?” He raised a brow, pulling on Jo’s onesie. “You’re in for a fun night, then, little lady.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning into his chest to cuddle him and your baby. “How was work?”

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head. “Next week I’m up to another hour. Should be getting home about six o’clock then.”

You sighed, locking eyes with Jo. She didn’t like it either.

“I know, sweetheart, but you know we need the money.” He said remorseful, leaning back to see your face a bit. “It’s just one more hour. Not too bad, right?”

You nodded, pushing yourself away to turn to the sink, turning on the hot water. “Dinner’s on the table. Joyce brought over a lasagna.” You blinked back tears as you waited for the sink to fill up so you could clean the numerous baby bottles.

Eddie looked from the table to you. “You gonna eat with me?”

“Got too much to do.”

He sighed, knowing you were upset about the news, but what else was he supposed to do? Money was essential, and he would do anything to support the both of you.

He gave Jo another kiss before putting her back into the mobile, leaning up against the counter to get a look at your face. He frowned at the sight of your tears. “Baby,”

You sniffled, your hands red from the scolding water. “I’m fine.” You said dismissively. “Just eat your dinner.”

“Hey,” He sat up straight. “Don’t be like that. Talk to me.” He cupped your shoulder.

“I don’t feel like talking.” You brushed his hand off. “I’ve got too much fucking work to do, but you wouldn’t know since you’re not ever fucking here, because you’re always fucking working.” You snapped, throwing a baby bottle at the floor, bubbles splattering across the counter.

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock at your outburst, mouth falling ajar. His pride wanted him to snap right back, but he knew you were right. You got the brunt of parenthood. He wasn’t going through what you were. He heard about the bad days. He didn’t experience them.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice broke, placing your soapy hands on the counter. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired, I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” He swallowed, trying to bring you close.

“Just-” You brushed him away again. “Just eat your dinner, please.” You looked to him with tearful, pleading eyes. “I got too much to do.”

He looked at you in disbelief, while you looked at Joanna. He gave a sad nod before leaving you be.

•

You were sobbing on the floor, baby girl in your arms, propped up by your knees. She’d been crying all day, had barely ever stopped. The house was now again an absolute wreck and you’d gotten nothing done. You had spit up on your neck, dried and irritated. Your breasts were throbbing, sore and tender. She’d about sucked them dry and you cried the entire time. You’d had enough and put her in her crib, hoping she’d cry it out like Joyce said. She had to hate you, why else could you not get her to stop crying. Her feeding schedule was normal, she never had trouble, and while nursing hurt badly, you’d had luck with not getting any clogged ducts.

“Fuck,” You cried after shutting the door. Your chest was bubbled with emotions, teary eyes scanning the mess of your small home. It was hard to move around in there, especially with a baby, but you didn’t want to bother Eddie with requesting a more expensive home. He did enough as is. You’d felt guilty for snapping at him like you did, but you were at your absolute wits end. You were on the floor folding laundry an hour later when Eddie came home.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie smiled, looking around for his daughter. “Joey asleep?”

“Finally.” You glanced up at him briefly. “She’s been crying all day. I haven’t had time to do anything at all.”

“Well,” He sat down beside you, grabbing the clothes from your hand. “I want to take you out tonight. I called Robin and Steve and figured we could all go out to dinner. It’ll be good for you to see them.”

You laughed shortly before continuing your work. “Sounds nice, Eddie, but I’m too busy.”

“Nonsense.” He dismissed, taking the clothes yet again and pulling the both of you off the floor as you protested. “Go take a shower, baby. Joyce is going to babysit. She’s on her way over now.”

He was serious. Your face fell. “Eddie.” You swallowed, sighing heavily. “Please, I- honey, thank you, that’s sweet, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” He raised his hand. “You’ve not been out in weeks. You’re too cooped up in here, doll. You need to get out of the house. Steve and Robin are on their way too.”

“What?” You widened your eyes. “Eddie! No, this place is a disaster!” You panicked, your hair falling out of your messy, lazy braid. “God damnit, Eddie!”

“Oh, come on, don’t start getting mad again.” He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Y/n, I’m trying to help here, okay? No offense, but you’re not making it very easy on me.”

“Oh, my god.” You squeezed your eyes shut, running your hands through your hair. “I’m so damn sorry that you’re having a hard time, Eddie!”

“You don’t have to be so rude all the time, you know?” He threw down his work jacket, taking a step with his heavy boots. “I bust my ass all day and have to worry about the money because I don’t want you worrying about that shit! You’ve got enough on your plate, I know you do, but so do I! Now, will you just let me please take you out?”

“Eddie,” You sobbed, your internal damn breaking. “Eddie, I can’t. The house is such a mess and I have so much to do.” Your face crumpled into tears of hysterics, your hands moving from your sides to your belly. “I’m sorry- I’m trying s-so hard to keep everything together for you but I can’t- god, she hates m-me!” You sniffled, node snotty and red.

“Y/n,” He sighed, face relaxing into a frown.

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “I love her so much but- but it’s just..how am I supposed to do this everyday! I’m so exhausted and I smell and my boobs hurt so bad!” You sobbed, shoulders shaking from the weight of your heartache. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a bitch, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, hey, hey, shh,” He gathered you close, arms entangling around you tightly, hoping to ease your pain. “It’s alright, it’s alright, baby, calm down, shh,” He rocked you, large palm smoothing your hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“I don’t feel pretty anymore.” You wept into his shoulder.

“You’re beautiful.” He squeezed you. “You’re always beautiful to me. I’m so sorry you’ve been struggling so much. I should’ve been paying more attention. I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.” He kissed your shoulder, then your cheek.

“I just want you to be proud of me.” You sniffled. “I feel like such a mess and this house, this house that you pay for, I can’t ever keep fucking clean.”

“Honey, I am proud of you.” He took your face in his hands. “I’m so proud of you. The things your body can do is incredible. The things you do every day is incredible. Watching you be a mother is the most amazing thing I know I’m ever going to witness. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

“Credit for what?” You groaned, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “For complaining? For being ungrateful?”

“You’re not ungrateful.” He softened his brown eyes. “You’re having a hard time. It doesn’t make you ungrateful.”

“I’m just sorry.” You whimpered. “Do you still love me?”

He couldn’t help but smile at your innocence. “I’m not ever gonna stop.”

He wound up calling Steve shortly after and told him it would be another time, and that he needed to take care of his girls. He pampered you all night and made sure you didn’t lift a finger cleaning the house. He fed the baby with her bottle while you took a shower, tidying things up along the way. Your shower was almost forty five minutes. He’d ordered chinese food and had it ready when you got out. Joanna sat in her playpen while you both ate.

It really wasn’t much to Eddie, but these actions to you meant more than he could ever say. You laid on his chest on the couch, watching wheel of fortune until you both drifted off to sleep.

[wildfloweronwheels]

the more I sit with the tortured poets department, the more it makes perfect sense as a body of work taylor would create/release especially when you consider the fact she operates much more closely to an indie artist artistically than a lot of her contemporaries.

so honest it's catching people off guard? she's been doing that her whole career from the minute she put people's real names in her songs. lyrically sharp and slightly alarming? may I present "and you come away with a great little story about a mess of a dreamer to adore you" or "you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter." bold and sonically strange? she's been blurring the lines of genre since her earliest albums, regularly blending country, pop, folk and even rock. 1989 has been her only traditionally dare I say 'sonically cohesive' album and the only reason its palate is so clean is because of the risk a pure pop album posed to her successful country career. if she hadn't nailed the landing then, she wouldn't be where she is now. *it also feels worth noting her most adventurous 'weird' but music has come AFTER she thought she'd had her last chance at mainstream success (lover) and as a result, thrown away the checklist because she thought she had nothing to lose. she was just making music for herself with no expectation of success*

'there's too many metaphors and characters/the muses are murky and I can't tell what's real. does she have to write so much fiction now?' this is the girl who immortalised her neighbours love story, who rewrote romeo and juliet, dreamed about crashing a wedding and was inspired by bob + ethel kennedy for god's sake. she's always written stories and imagined.

'I just can't understand why she'd make this and take this risk when we all liked her so much?' my friend, have we been paying attention to the same artist all these years? taylor swift not taking creative and honestly quite punk career risks would be like christopher nolan films without cillian murphy. she walked away from a development deal at age 14, took a chance on an independent label she built from the ground up and then bet on her future when they held her past hostage. took a genre they said wasn't for teenage girls and transformed it. wrote an album on her own after her songwriting was questioned. took a 10 minute song to #1, directed music videos and a short film worthy of oscar buzz, stretched her muscles and is directing a feature film AND re-recorded all her old work in arguably the biggest potential interruption to her career not for any perceived gain but for the statement of an artist's worth. but the world doesn't view them as risks because they worked

tldr; the tortured poets department is the most taylor swift thing taylor swift has ever made.