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#and I feel like it's too late to tell them the truth lmao
nonbinari-mendoza · 2 years
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armysantiny · 6 months
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-[chan; soft bf headcanon
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P: Chan x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, headcanon | Inc: graphic designer!reader, getting together, friends to lovers, the rest of skz being (lovingly) fed up, date nights, late night walks | Wc: 503 | W: none iirc | R: G
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My favourite single father of seven/j
Meeting Chan was almost fate, honestly
You’re a graphic designer and happen to love designing album covers
Stray Kids were finishing up an album and needed a graphic designer to help create the album covers
Lo and behold~
You and Chan meet!
Bonding during meeting after meeting while the creative process goes about working its magic
The bonding sessions turn into dropping by each other’s workspace
By which I mean you  visiting Chan’s studio pretty much every time you have a lunch break and bringing a snack with you
Which he greatly appreciates <3
Because he never leaves that room/j
The speed at which you two become best friends is impeccable
Very much a duo – especially the kind that are always seen hanging out together
The feelings start not too long after too
There is one problem though... you’re both oblivious
Painfully oblivious
Somehow you both can’t see that the other is head over heels, and it doesn’t take long for the rest of skz to start taking matters into their own hands
They love you, really, but the running around in circles is going to drive them a little mad
Just a little :D
They keep trying to bash hints over your heads
Which is ironic because the confession happens so quickly
Catches everyone off guard fr
The two of you are hanging out late and it gets blurted out
Cue quick discussion over what you want in a relationship and boom—
Y’all are a couple now! Everyone liked that
Chan being your boyfriend comes with seven other people because none of these men know what the meaning of the phrase personal space is
Baby I don’t make the rules here, this is just the truth
You take it in stride though, which Chan appreciates
Oh yeah, and this man is a hugger
A certified cuddler I’m telling you
I’m convinced he needs his arms around you for thirty minutes a day, every day, at least
Will have you sit in his lap while he works so he can get his daily y/n cuddles
Try to move and watch him whine I swear—
Do you not want his affection anymore??/j
Lmao but despite how busy the both of you are, date nights are wonderful
He plans dinner reservations on days you’re both free and refuses to listen to anyone asking him to work
Date nights are for the two of you and the two of you only <33
Walks hand-in-hand with you after dinner and you stop by a few stalls
If you happen to pass by an arcade, he’s gonna win you a plushie from the claw machine
Sure he spends a little too much on it, but it’s all good fun
Especially worth it to see your face when he does win a plushie
And sure, your friends are more than happy that you’re dating Chan
But they are a little jealous
Because who doesn’t want a relationship like yours
You lucky darling, you~
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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hi!!! i love all ur marauders works they’re seriously so cute and i love how you write them!! idk if you’ve done this one already and if you have just ignore this lol but could you do remus having a nightmare and reader comforting him? ik you’ve done the reverse but i wanna know what he’s like lmao. i need to see more confer remus i can’t get enough
Thank you lovely <3
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
It’s already graying outside the window when you wake. Remus has been having some agitated nights lately, and the dim lighting of the bedroom lets you see that this has been another one. 
You’ve probably woken from the cold, all your sheets and blankets kicked mercilessly to the end of the bed. Remus’ face is twisted up tight, his hands twitching like they’re trying to grab for something, and he’s making soft, distressed little sounds that threaten to crack your heart clean in two. You hate to think how long he’s been like this without you waking. 
“Rem,” you start soft, reaching for his hand as you’ve learned to do. Touch his shoulder or any other part of him and he’s likely to wake jolting, your offending hand gripped cruelly by the wrist. Once, before you’d learned your lesson, he’d kicked himself fully out of bed from the start you gave him. You’d sat in the living room with a hot pack on his tailbone, murmuring apologies back and forth until the sun came up. 
You needle your fingers underneath his gently. “Remus, honey, you’re okay. You’re home.” His fingers twitch closer around yours, and you’re careful not to grab him back even though you want to, running the pads of your fingers down the length of his to loosen them. “You’re safe. You’re at home.” His eyes start to move faster behind his lids. “Rem.” 
That last whisper does it. He doesn’t startle, which is always a victory, but Remus still inhales sharply as he wakes. His muscles seize as though they mean to propel him somewhere, then relax shudderingly. 
You entwine your fingers with his, stay quiet. You know he knows you’re here but he won’t look at you just yet, hiding away the most frantic parts of himself before he’ll let himself turn towards you. You don’t love that he does it. You know better than to push him, though. It unnerves him worse when you try to jimmy your way into his thoughts while he’s still raw like this. 
“Sorry,” he says on an exhale. 
“Don’t be.” You start to stroke up his wrist, but Remus pulls his hand from yours, slipping out of bed and walking from the room. 
You tail him. This is part of your routine, too. You think he likes to give you the option of going back to sleep, though you can’t imagine he’d actually feel any better if you did. He’s fooling himself. (It’s okay; you’re a fool for him sometimes, too.) 
Remus isn’t surprised when you wrap your arms around his middle in the kitchen, resting your cheek against his back. He’s already got the kettle going. 
“How are you?” you ask, though you think you have some idea. He’s still trembling gently under your hands. 
“Alright.” He sets one hand over your two clasped around his front. “You should go back to sleep.” 
You almost smile at his predictability. Remus isn’t usually so stiff around you, but even he has admitted he reverts back to a younger, terser self when he’s feeling vulnerable. You could tell him that you’d have been waking up soon anyway, or that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew you’d left him like this, but you go with the truth that you know you’d want to hear. 
“I want to be with you,” you say simply. 
Remus turns in your arms, resting his lips on top of your head. “Thanks, dove.” 
You hum like For what? and step around him as the kettle finishes boiling, grabbing his favorite mug from the cabinet above. Remus lets you take care of him this little bit, but he doesn’t go to sit down in the living room until you’re headed that way too. 
You curl up against him on the couch, your knees tipped over his thighs while his legs bridge the gap between the sofa and the coffee table. He blows the steam off his mug. 
“Do you remember what the dream was about?” 
“Bits and pieces.” Remus’ voice is still a bit raspy with sleep, and you know exactly what he’s thinking when his lips twitch: you’ve told him more than a few times how attractive you find it like this. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about.” 
“Okay,” you say. You’re both speaking softly, like the house itself is still slumbering as morning creeps up on the outside world. After Remus’ nightmare, you imagine he appreciates the peace anyway.
He sighs, looking at you almost sheepishly. “Sorry I’ve been waking you so much lately.” 
“Sorry you’ve been sleeping so horribly lately,” you counter. 
Remus smiles ruefully. “I think it’s all this stuff going on at work. Rude of it to fuck with me even when I’m sleeping, though.” 
You hum, tracing a scar near his elbow with your finger. “I didn’t realize you were so stressed. I’m sorry.” 
“I’ve hardly realized it myself,” he admits. 
You frown, and Remus looks back into his mug, shying from your scrutiny. “Do you think it might help if we relaxed a bit more here?” you ask him. “We could start reading that book together again.” 
His eyes are soft when they meet yours, the color of honey and just as sweet. “That sounds really nice,” he says. 
You smile. It feels good to have a plan. “Hug?” you ask him. 
Remus sets down his tea to make room for you, and you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands spread out on your back, tentative at first and then firmer as you snuggle up to him. 
“I’ll make cheese toasties and soup tonight,” you say softly. Remus sounds almost like he could purr as you start playing with the hair at his nape. He gives your hips a little tug, getting you closer. “And we can read or watch something or do a puzzle, whatever you feel like when you get home. We could talk about the work stuff, if you wanted to.” You say this last part hesitantly, but Remus hums his approval. 
“You’re so good to me, do you know that?” 
You grin. “I do my best.” 
He huffs a laugh, the sound gruff and heart-squeezing. You lapse into a thin silence, each listening to the other breathe but feeling the beginning of the new day pressing at your windows. 
“We have some time before we’d normally start to get ready,” you try. “Want to stay like this for a bit?” 
“Yeah,” Remus sighs, settling his arms around you more securely. “Yeah, good idea.”
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rustygem · 7 months
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: ̗̀➛ “DOUBTS.” | v. ratio
彡 prompt: dr. ratio discovers that his lover is more insecure than they let on.
彡 warning(s): self degradation/loathing (from the reader).
彡 notes: gender neutral reader. maybe ooc! ratio. this was partly a vent lmao. all dividers are by cafekitsune!
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THE day you started dating Veritas Ratio was the best day of his life. He always considered you to be his equal in intelligence...and good looks too. Your more lenient personality, however, was in contrast to strict personality. But, you still taught your students well.
Granted, to Veritas, you really should be a little less merciful. You’re a professor, it's not like you're teaching preschoolers. If one of your students is stressed out, instead of coddling them, help snap them out of it.
Other than that, you’re a genuinely good professor. As stressed out as some of the students might be, they’re still learning. To Veritas, the way you teach shows that you’re confident in yourself and your teachings.
Although, outside of your job, lately you’ve been acting unusual. Veritas has noticed you hesitating to hold his hand. The way you’ve been kissing his cheeks instead of his lips, your refusal to look him in the eyes when talking to him.
Now Veritas Ratio doesn’t know how to comfort people. And when it came to you, he would give you a hug or a kiss, but that was about it.
Only because your concerns were the usual stress of work, so he wasn’t worried about you. He knew you were strong when it came to being a teacher, and that’s what he loved about you.
He thought to get you a coffee before your next lesson, as you are a hard worker. Of course, hard workers need energy and a relaxing drink. Especially when they’re in the presence of idiots.
So when Veritas hears you crying in your classroom, mumbling the cruelest words to yourself…his heart starts to ache.
Calling yourself a nuisance, nothing but a burden.
He’s damn near offended. If anyone else was caught talking like this about you, he’d have no problem insulting them back.
But…it was you saying these awful things about yourself. Why?
As you spotted him walking towards you, you wiped your eyes with a few tissues.
"Good morning, Veritas." You mumbled a soft 'thank you' as he handed you your coffee cup. You did your best to give him a smile, but you were only met with a glare in response.
"You know I despise lying, my dear." He leaned closer to you, your lips almost touching, as if he was about to kiss you.
“So, why don’t you be truthful?” The man with purple hair moved his head back, drinking his own coffee.
You were silent as you sipped your coffee, tears brimming from your eyes again.
“...I’m sorry, Veritas." Your voice was barely audible, until after you spoke again. “I…just felt like I’ve been of no use to you recently.”
Exhaling from his nose, he frowned. "I’m still failing to see how you could ever view yourself as a nuisance, [F/N]."
Oh, he heard that? Wonderful.
Getting up from your seat, you stared at your coffee cup. “I don’t feel like I’m your equal. That I’m below you.”
What. Were you serious? You were his lover. Of course you were his equal. Were you actually foolish? You were simply one of the most intelligent people he’s ever met, both academically and emotionally. You had a good heart as well. You were an honest person.
How could you speak about yourself this way? Absolutely not. He won’t hear it.
“Answer me this,” Veritas took the coffee cup out of your hand, setting both his and yours cups down on your desk. Staring into your eyes, he continued. “Have I ever told you that you were beneath me?”
“…No.” You mumbled.
“Have I given the impression that you’re bothersome, or a nuisance to me?”
“No, but–”
“Do you think I would be in love with you if I considered you to be worthless?”
No response from you.
Walking closer to you, he grazed your cheek. “So please, tell me where you got these thoughts from, sweetheart.”
Scrunching his eyebrows, Veritas thought for a moment. The first thought that came to his mind made his jaw clench.
“[F/N].” He said firmly, maintaining eye contact with you. “Has anyone said anything to you?”
Taking in his words, you broke eye contact with him. It was true that people talked about you behind your back. But, you’ve been feeling like this for a while…all your co-workers did was just make it worse.
“These thoughts have been sitting in my own mind for a long time, Veritas.” You stared at your shoes. “Nobody needed to say anything.”
Moving your chin up to make you look at him, his gaze softened. “Then let me tell you this.”
Taking your hands in his, he began. “I’m with you because I love you. Simple. You are forever my equal, and I‘be never imagined myself being with anyone but you.”
While his voice was nonchalant as ever, every single word still heartfelt, and came from a place of love.
Seeing your lips almost twitch into a smile, he continued, “Or should I remind you it was me who confessed to you?”
Yeah, that happened. Veritas Ratio told you he loved you. He didn’t expect you to feel the same way, forget starting a relationship with him.
Seeing tears almost well up in your eyes, he kissed your temple. “I love you, [Y/N], and that will never end. Am I understood?”
Nodding your head, you wiped your eyes. “Yes, I understand. I love you too, Veritas.”
With a satisfied hum, the genius reluctantly separated himself from you and picked up his coffee cup.
“Good, now get yourself together, my dear. You have a lesson in 5 minutes.”
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nicromancytarot · 5 months
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A POEM FROM YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE
This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides what your future spouse would say to you if they were to write you a poem and used my intuition to write it for you. Pick a picture to find out what they would like to say.
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Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3
PILE 1
Time is an essence granted to those who wait,
Some people have impatience,
Some people worry it’ll come late,
The ones who sit in anticipation trying to speed up the clock,
Are the ones who work in antique shops,
The people who collect the cogs,
Because changing the time on the clock won’t make the stars falter in response,
Even when the hands strike the numbers
where you want it to stop
Because time is an essence granted to those who wait,
For you I cannot count the seconds on my watch,
For I worry that I will lose touch,
As you are not here when I want you to be,
And I cannot speed up the clock,
But when I record the time that I must wait for you to be in my arms,
The beats of my heart are in tune with yours,
And I know it’s worth the chance
PILE 2
The moon is known to have two faces,
and I worry that I do too,
Although I know about the possibility,
I wish not to show them to you,
Will you be scared when you see my shadows?
Will you run away in fear,
if I show you every side of me,
My two faces,
The parts of me I choose to keep within
Tell me a lie and I promise I’ll trust you,
I won’t question your authenticity,
For I don’t believe that you would appear a liar to me,
without a reason to be,
Would you question me too if I was to tell to you anything but the truth?
The moon has two faces and I do too,
but I forbid my shadows to ever harm you
PILE 3
Rainbows are caused by the sun and the rain,
A chemical reaction in the sky,
And although the shower are downfall tears,
I am glad that they’re not mine,
If something negative can create such a beauty,
Then why can’t you and I?
We may not be the perfect pair,
But I’m prepared to give it a try
Ignore the opinions,
And don’t acknowledge the stares,
They’re jealous that you are mine,
Perhaps they think we’re a colossal disaster,
But they are as stupid as they are blind,
Hold out your hand and walk with me,
We’ll give them something to find,
The red carpet paints the floor,
They grant you your time to shine
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bunnylovesani · 9 months
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A Birthday Affair 2
Summary: Past midnight is when the real birthday celebrations start and the best gift you could’ve asked for is to get stuffed. Full of cake, of course. You just better hope Padme doesn’t wake up.
Content warnings: P in V sex, oral sex, cheating, generally immoral activity lmao
WC: 3.2k
“Would you stop whining about it already? Give me a fucking minute to put on my shoes and I’ll get you the stupid replacement.” Anakin yells in Padme’s direction, on his way to buy you another birthday cake after the last one went up in flames.
“It’s not for me, it’s for her!” She points at you and Anakin sighs, giving you an apologetic look.
“Yeah well, she doesn’t seem to be half as fussed about it as you are.” He grabs the keys by the door and throws on a navy blue baseball cap. “Be back in twenty.” He seems to say only to you and the act of defiance doesn’t go unnoticed by Padme.
“God, what a jerk. I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately but he seems to be even more unbearable than usual.” She steps out onto the terrace of your shared apartment and you follow her. “You spend every day with us, tell me- has he said anything to you? You know, about us?”
You shuffle on your feet nervously and let out a huff. “No, nothing.” You decide to keep your lies simple and easy to follow.
“That’s even worse!” She whines. “He doesn’t mention me at all?”
“I didn’t say that.” You deflected nervously.
“So he does talk about me?” Noticing your hesitance, she puts her hand on your shoulder reassuringly. “Relax, you can tell me. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I’d never get mad at you for telling me the truth.”
“I got something that’d test that theory.” You think as you scratch the back of your head.
“Look Padme, I don’t know what to tell you- I mean he doesn’t talk badly about you, but he doesn’t mention you all that much either.”
She pauses for a moment and takes a step back, observing you closely.
“So what do you guys talk about then?” She shoots you a scrutinising glare.
“W-what?” You kick yourself for how suspicious you’re coming across.
“You heard me. We’ve been roommates for a good couple of months now.” She paces up and down the terrace. “When I’m at work and you two are alone, what do you talk about?”
“Oh, you know. The usual. Nothing special.” You reply honestly. Up until this evening, you hadn’t crossed any boundaries with Anakin- unless you count your fantasies. In which case you’d crossed them multiple times in multiple different positions.
She looks at you with narrowed eyes, processing your response for a moment before she releases a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been feeling a little paranoid recently.” She slumps down onto a plump deck chair and breathes in the cold night air. “He seems distant, like he’s not really here with me, you know?” You take a seat beside her, not sure whether it would be more morally reprehensible to comfort her or to change the subject.
“I don’t know Padme, it’s between you guys- I don’t wanna get involved.” You hear the irony in your words as soon as they leave your lips.
“Of course, ‘m sorry for being such a downer- and on the eve of your birthday too! I’m gonna throw you the biggest rager tomorrow, I’ve invited so many cute guys - just for you.” She rambles excitedly and you bite your lip in guilt.
A short while later, Anakin comes home to a very lukewarm reception from Padme, who complains that the cake he bought isn’t good enough- it wasn’t the right size, the right flavour or the right colour. You thought it was perfectly fine.
After a brief but heated argument, Padme decides to call it a night and retreats into her bedroom down the hall.
“I’m sorry about her.” Anakin whispers, treading lightly over to you. “She’s acting even more insufferable than I’m used to.”
“Funny, she said the same thing about you earlier.” You smile, knees feeling weak when he returns it with his own twinkling grin.
“I can’t wait until it’s you I get to go to bed with, not her.” He speaks softly, reaching up to brush his knuckles against your cheek.
“Me neither, but we can’t do things like that anymore. Not until you deal with Padme.” You vowed, looking over his shoulder.
“I know, I know, I’ll deal with that soon-“
“Anakin! Come to bed!” Padme interjects with a high-pitched and entirely repellant screech.
He rolls his eyes so far back into his head you wonder if they’ll ever come out again.
“I’m coming!” He yells, throwing his arms into the air with a measure of agitation you’d never seen before.
“I gotta go, angel. I’ll see you in the morning yeah? My pretty birthday girl.” He grabs your chin lightly before planting a peck on your forehead and retreating into the bedroom with an indignant sigh.
You stayed up for a little while longer, deciding to tidy the mess of pillows and plushies strewn along your bed. As you readjusted your teddies, you let out a dreamy moan at the memory of your romp earlier this evening. You snake your hand between your thighs as you sit down, feeling deliciously sore- head spinning with the reminder of how right it felt to have him buried inside you. Only being granted the pleasure of having him once wasn’t anywhere near enough- you felt like you were going through withdrawal, unable to form a single thought that wasn’t about him.
Resigning yourself to a long sleepless night, you slipped your most expensive silk nightie on and crawled under the covers. Glancing over to the clock on your nightstand, you saw that it was 1 minute past midnight- officially your birthday. You wondered if Ani got you anything nice, focusing on hypothetical presents rather than allowing your guilty conscience to creep in.
Speaking of creeping in, you hear the door knob squeak with a careful twist and a festive pyjama-clad Anakin enters your room.
“Ani! What are you doing here?” You whisper, motioning to securely close the door shut.
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait- just had to come see you. Happy birthday, baby.” He hands you a charming white gift box wrapped tightly in a pink silk bow, his large palm making it look tiny.
“Can I join you for a minute?” He gestures towards your bed and you’re torn.
“Oh Ani, you shouldn’t have. I-I don’t know, what if she catches us?” You try to reason but your attention has been stolen by the pretty box, which you eagerly pluck out of his hand.
“She’s out cold.” He perches at the foot of your bed. “You hear that? Sounds like a grizzly bear operating a chainsaw.”
You giggle at his words and peel back your covers, inviting him to lay beside you.
“Or a congested walrus.” You add.
“Driving a bulldozer.”
“Well now you’re just exaggerating.” You laugh into your pillow while Anakin shushes you, playfully hitting you with your teddy.
Clutching the box as you untie the delicate ribbon, you pull out a polished gold necklace with a satiny heart pendant- engraved with the letter A.
“Ani, I love it! But-“
“I bought this a week ago.” He interrupts. “My heart belonged to you long before you gave me your body. I want you to wear it and the next time I see Padme, I’ll tell her everything.”
“Really? The next time?” You ask incredulously. You’d expected this to drag on for a lot longer.
“First thing in the morning, angel.” He reassured you soothingly and you melted into his arms.
“Okay, help me put it on.” You tittered excitedly as he clipped the necklace in place, the delicate pendant lingering over your collarbones.
“Thank you. It’s perfect.” You held it in your hand and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling away slightly, you darted between his dreamy eyes and his parted mouth, trying to resist temptation.
Before you could give in first, Anakin gripped your jaw with his hands, pulling you in impossibly close to kiss you deeply. You sucked on his tongue, moaning at the subtle taste of vanilla cake frosting and minty toothpaste.
“No, wait. We shouldn’t.” You proclaim breathily, though you know your empty words were nothing but a pitiful attempt at making you feel like you’d at least tried to abstain.
“Then why does it feel so right?” He silences you by pressing his lips against yours once more, all resistance fading away under his gentle touch.
You squirm under his weight as he climbs on top of you, kissing and sucking his way down to your thighs, which he pins open until the sides of your knees are lying firmly against the bed.
“Can I taste you, sweetheart?” He asks in a hushed tone, rubbing his thumbs against your soft skin.
You nod in response, hoping that on some level not speaking would make this whole thing less sinful. Anakin doesn’t press you for a verbal response, taking no time at all before he pulls your panties off and delves his tongue into your pussy. Your hand flies over your mouth as you slip out a breathy moan, the warm feeling of his mouth enveloping your clit overwhelming you. His nails dig into your fleshy hips and his grip around your thighs strengthens- swollen veins protruding through his forearms as the adrenaline courses through his blood.
You whimper into your heart-shaped pillow, gnawing at the frills as you feel the tip of Ani’s tongue working circles into your sensitive bud.
“You taste so good, baby.” He raises his head and you take in the sight before you: lips parted, wetness dribbling down his mouth and half-lidded eyes glaring at you lustily. “I can’t wait angel, ‘m sorry.” He mumbles, getting on his knees and dragging you down by the legs. He doesn’t bother removing his plaid pyjama bottoms, simply pulling them down and letting his cock spring up over the waistband, achingly hard. You can practically see it throbbing, the tip a glistening dark pink.
“Can I? Please, baby.” He whines, rubbing his tip along your soaked folds. You nod once again but he seems unsatisfied.
“Talk.” He demands simply. “It still counts as fucking even if you didn’t say a word.”
You frown at him, not appreciating how he just burst your bubble.
“Fine.” You huff and he raises an eyebrow.
“Are you giving me attitude?” He comes closer, tip kissing your entrance. “‘cus now would be the wrong time to do that.” He hisses and slides right in, filling you up all at once and giving you no time to adjust to his size. You mewl and writhe beneath him, gripping the sheets as he puts all his body weight on you and covers his hand firmly over your mouth.
“Do you want her to hear us? Shut up and take it.” He spits venomously as he gives you deep and slow thrusts, his cock reaching all the way up to your guts. You moan helplessly as he holds you in a near headlock, silenced with his strong arms and legs pinned wide open to make way for him. Your legs tremble as your pussy greedily accepts his length, squeezing it with its plush walls.
“Slutty little pussy, ’s gripping me so tight.” He grins against your neck. You’re not sure what it was about sex that brought out such a dominant and mean side to Anakin- but you weren’t complaining. The sound of arousal filled the room, your wet slickness gushing against him as his balls slapped against your ass. Hearing the lewd sounds, he slowed down a little, cautiously guiding his cock into you in such a way that would elicit the least amount of noise.
Just as you fell into an entrancingly good rhythm, a knock was heard at the door.
“Hey, you sleeping? Anakin’s gone somewhere.” Padme’s sleepy voice reverberates through the door.
You look to Anakin for guidance with an expression of panic but he looks completely calm- doing nothing besides slowly removing his hand away from your mouth, still sheathed in you. You consider not replying and pretending you’re asleep but quickly realise the light of the lamp shining under your doorway is a dead giveaway.
“Um, I’ve just gone to sleep now.” You answered with bated breath, wondering why Anakin hadn’t pulled out yet. “Has he really? Dunno where he could’ve gone.”
As if this exchange wasn’t challenging enough, Anakin begins fucking into you again, a wild smirk plastered on his face as he thrusts in and out.
“Ugh can I come in?” She whines, no doubt wanting to rant about her failing relationship. The hunk on top of you reaches down and starts rubbing your clit, staring into you with great amusement as you unsuccessfully attempt to bat him off.
“Uh- um, no Padme I’m sleeping, ah we’ll talk tomorrow!” You tremble, hoping your words didn’t come out too shaky.
“What are you doing in there? Are you okay?” Suddenly the door swings wide open and Padme walks in on the sight of her boyfriend on top of her best friend. You only catch a glimpse of her face for a moment- a screwed up expression of horror and disgust- before she turns around and reaches for the vase on top of your chest of drawers. Anticipating her reaction, Anakin towers over you protectively as Padme hurls the glass vase in your direction- the water spraying over you both as it flies over the bed, smashing into a million tiny pieces against the wall.
“You fucking whore!” She screams. “And you! You jerk! How could you fuck my best friend?!” Anakin throws an unphased glance her way for a moment before turning his gaze towards you, brushing his hand against your face gently and locking your lips in a soft kiss. The look of adoration he gives you, ignoring Padme completely, reassures you that you are the only one worth his attention.
“Oh, I’m gonna be fucking sick.” She splutters as she walks out of the room, slamming the door shut and mumbling curses to herself.
“Ani, get off! I need to go talk to-“
“You don’t need to do anything other than be in this moment right now, with me.” He pins you down by the wrists and glares at you, pushing in until the very base of his cock is flush against you. You want to fight him, to get up and chase after your friend but the pleasure has made your legs numb.
“You can leave when I’ve made you cum.” He rasps, resuming his heavy thrusts and you can’t do anything other than cry out his name- no point being quiet now that she knows, right?
“That’s it baby, let everyone know who you belong to.” He moans, brows upturning and mouth parted. He looked so pretty like this, damp curls brushing against his forehead and plump lips formed into an inviting o shape. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your throat ran dry as you felt the tip of his smooth cock gliding roughly against that spot that drove you crazy.
“Fuck Ani, ‘m gonna -“ The words flew out your mouth as your release took you by surprise, seizing your whole body in ecstasy and eliciting a torrent of guttural moans from your pretty lips. He buried his face into your chest, groaning against your bare tits as he joined you in cumming, painting your walls with his seed.
Ani was nothing if not a man of his word- so he rolled off you straight after, freeing you to leave.
“I would advise against what you’re about to do.” He speaks calmly, covering his lower half in your sheets and stretching his toned arms out before placing them beneath his head.
You ignore his comment, throwing on a bathrobe and leaving the room to see Padme- furiously stuffing articles of clothing into various bags. A nauseating fear overcomes you when you realise you have nothing to say to her.
“Don’t.” She snaps, noticing your lingering presence. “Don’t even come near me. You are dead to me.” You twiddle your thumbs standing in the doorway of her room, not sure what you were expecting.
“I’m sorry Padme, I really am. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” You mumble, barely above a whisper.
“You didn’t mean to slip and fall on his cock?” She has angry tears pouring frantically down her round face. “That doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that happens by accident.
“I meant I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You clarify gently.
“Well, you did. Oh my God, I can see his cum pouring down your leg.” She points in disgust and you cross your legs. “Is that what I saw earlier? I thought you spilt water or something, God I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not, this is all-“
“You’re right. This is all your fault, you dumb fucking slut. You’re nothing but a brainless whore.”
“That’s enough.” Anakin emerges, dressed in nothing but his boxers, a thin veil of glowing sweat coating his toned abdomen. “This was all my fault. If you have anything to say, you say it to me.” You cower behind him, thankful for his protective presence.
“Oh, I have plenty to say.” She barges past you both, carrying her bags out into the hallway. “A year’s relationship thrown away for a quick fuck. With that skank.”
“Don’t call her that.” He gruffly responds and you can’t help but think he’s being harsh.
“Spare me. What are you, her guard dog?” She scoffs, tears dried and replaced with a scornful bitterness. “You’re going to regret this. When the novelty wears off and you realise she means nothing to you, you’re going to come crawling back.”
“That’s highly unlikely.” He looks unperturbed, amused even - strangely nonchalant over the dramatic events unfurling before him.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” She jibes, throwing her coat on and getting ready to launch another venomous attack your way when she’s interrupted.
“I love her.” Anakin states simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“You what?” Padme stops dead in her tracks, looking aghast.
“You what?” You parrot softly and he turns to face you, tenderly taking your face into his gentle hands.
“I love you.” He repeats, not an ounce of shame or regret in his words.
“I-I love you too, Ani.” You grab onto his wrists and gaze into his eyes with an adoring vulnerability.
“Rot in hell, you crazy motherfuckers.” Padme peels her eyes off the appalling sight before her, grabbing her bags and leaving the apartment with a thunderous slam of the bolted door.
You watch her leave with a troubled countenance painted across your face- but Ani never takes his eyes off you.
“I guess it’s just us now.” He smiles peacefully and you feel all your worries melt away.
“I guess it is.” You smile back, wrapping your arms around his strong neck and joining your lips in a passionate, cathartic kiss.
It’s not that you didn’t like Padme, nor that you were the kind of woman to choose a man over her friends. It was just him. You couldn’t help it- from this day forward you knew you would always pick Ani over anything else in this universe. Without a shadow of a doubt, he was your soulmate.
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@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327
Part 1 here
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generalllimaginesss · 8 months
Text
Here’s a little piece based on Megan Moroney’s song Reasons to Stay.
Warnings: angsty bf! Jack, toxic relationship (you can usually tell if I’m depressed or not based on what I post lmao), but like this is really really toxic so don’t read if that’s a trigger for you. I think I made myself go crazy while rereading it.
Reasons to Stay
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I asked Jesus for a sign
And today I haven’t cried
It’s only 2 p.m. but that beats yesterday
So I guess that’s a reason to stay
The status of having an NHL boyfriend was alluring to a lot of girls. The fame was something that always felt new, thousands of people, strangers, screaming the name that you hold near and dear to your heart. The money eased the fear of bills and gave a freedom the average person would never experience in their lifetime. The influence that you hold as a WAG always playing in the back of your mind anytime your finger hovered over a button to post a picture, wondering if the caption was classy enough to hold your status.
The truth is that looks can be deceiving. The girls that threw themselves at Jack made for a constant state of insecurities to pool in your brain, sloshing around anytime Jack was home late or turned his location off. The money bought things that made you smile, a Louis Vuitton here, a Mercedes there, but the feeling of being in debt to the man that let hate spew from his mouth anytime you accidentally stepped out of line pulled at your being, anxiety grasping at the freedom, one not capable of being present without the other.
Was it really freedom?
Was it the price of freedom?
Maybe.
Maybe the price was the amount of tears that flowed when he rejected an outfit for you to wear.
“You’re not leaving in that. I don’t date sluts and that makes you look like one,” his reasoning rang, slicing through your ears and bouncing around anytime you bought clothes.
Today was a good day, though.
He had kissed you goodbye, asking if you would be making dinner tonight.
He’d be home tonight, you thought, willing yourself to think positive and fighting against the urge to dwell on the fact that he had come home with a hickey the night prior. He insisted it was a hickey, but you weren’t too sure about that.
But he’s yours tonight, that’s all that matters. That keeps you going; the possibility that tomorrow he will be yours is your driving thought. So you went about your day as if the life you were living were a dream and that you were living the life as the girlfriend of a famous hockey player who made millions.
Maybe it’s normal to have to be small. Maybe you just have to compensate for the huge platform that he had. He had earned it after all.
Seriously, what did you do other than keep the house tidy and go to his games? That’s normal….right?
You just had to tell yourself that it would be ok. It would be harder and messier to leave than try to push through.
And when you’re drunk at 3 a.m.
You don’t call your ex-girlfriend
It’s been a couple months since you
Brought up her name.
So I guess that’s a reason to stay.
The guys had gone out after a win, guys only. No girlfriends or wives. That’s what Jack said, at least. They were celebrating the guys achievements, some records broken, and it was just for them.
That was fine with you. He had an amazing game: his second hatty of his career. He needed a night to let off some steam and just be a boy.
The picture of him and Nico with Jack’s ex looming in the background was just a coincidence, yeah? Jack said she was a puck bunny, so she’s probably just going from guy to guy.
As soon as he walked through the door, the smell of bourbon wafted through the air, attaching itself to every air molecule in the apartment and meeting you like a familiar friend. This wasn’t the first time he had come home in this state. It wasn’t even the 5th or 6th.
“You’re up,” Jack’s words were slower than normal, the effort to produce the words coherently proving to be more tasking than normal. He took in the view of you curled up in an Ugg blanket on the plush cushions of the couch, noticing the lines that the tears had been drawing for the past hour. He took note, but not responsibility. He told you where he was and what he was doing, no harm no foul.
“Just couldn’t go to sleep,” Your voice was weakened, something you despised about yourself. You used to view yourself as strong and independent. Sticking up for what was right was was something you took pride in, but being in a relationship with Jack had slowly chipped away at that, so nonchalantly that you were the skeleton of who you once were before you could do anything about it.
Jack’s balance teetered from the left to the right, making a ship at sea during a storm look like a walk through the park. He stumbled as he tried to take his shoes off, a cue that you learned meant you needed to help him.
He did so much for you, so would it really be awful to just help him out?
As you slipped one AirForce off, you took notice of the bruises that feathered his legs, probably from the intense game tonight.
You could feel courage bubble, coming to a boil before you made your next statement, “I noticed your ex in a picture that Nico posted…what’s that about?”
“Baby,” He slurred, attempting to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear but pulling it instead, kissing your forehead after you winced at the tension. “You’re the only one that matters,” And with that he sucked you right back into his intoxicating blue eyes. They held a secret confession of his love for you. One that only you could see and he could feel.
But you don’t try like you used to
You don’t look at me the same
You used to say you’re sorry, now
Whiskey’s what you blame
How much can a heart take
‘Til it’s really your last chance
I’m a giver, but I’ve given all I can
We both know that I ain’t one to walk away
But I’m runnin’ out of reasons to stay
Things hadn’t always been like this.
Jack hadn’t always been like this.
He used to surprise you at work with two dozen roses, or wrote sweet love notes on sticky notes and stuck them to your vanity. He used to put in effort.
He used to want you.
What were you thinking, of course he still wanted you. He wouldn’t be in a relationship with you for the whole world to see if he didn’t want you, right?
He hadn’t bought flowers in a long time, though, and the sticky notes had slowly made their way to a drawer for safekeeping, none there to replace them. The vanity was bare, loneliness radiating from it every time you passed it, the feeling resonating in your soul.
It was as lonely as you.
Jack had come home drunk again last night, the smell of the liquor laced the words he shot at you with a poison that made them burn when they hit you. Everything that came out of his mouth felt like lashes against your skin.
“You’re so fucking boring, Y/N! You think you’re so perfect and you’re not! You think you’re better than everybody around you, but you’re not! You’re a fucking bitch, you cunt!”
He went on like that for at least an hour, going on and on about how he deserved better, how he could have anybody he wanted but settled for you.
It hurt even worse because it was so untrue. You battled with yourself for years because you compared yourself to those around you constantly. Jack knew this. He had been there for your breakdowns when your family had made you feel like a disappointment, or when you never thought you would be as pretty or talented as the other girls in the hockey scene.
Did he just forget this?
How were you going to smooth this over with him?
It felt like all you did was make excuses for him just to be able to live with him.
Why?
How did he completely change you? Wreck you? He had gutted out who you once were and left the bare beams that held you up. He had conditioned you to allow him chance after chance, no matter how bad he had fucked up.
And you just let him.
As the sun played a game of peekaboo through the curtains, you had made up your mind that you couldn’t justify the way he was treating you anymore. It was wrong.
The smell of bacon and eggs lured you into the kitchen to see him shirtless, standing over the stove as he busied himself with making breakfast. His back muscles flexed as he maneuvered about the stove. He looked perfect, as if he hadn’t verbally assaulted you and your character last night.
Before you could say anything, he had sensed that he was being watched, catching a glimpse of you as he turned his head slightly to the left.
“Morning. Didn’t wake you up, did I?” His voice was raspy, probably from partying for most of the night, but it sounded like he cared. It was refreshing.
“N-no. Um, I just felt like I should get up,” Reassuring him felt like an attempt to just keep the peace. Don’t say anything to set him off, don’t be combative. He’s cooking breakfast for you, so everything’s ok.
“Good. Hey, about last night…I’ll be honest I don’t remember what I said, but if it was bad it was just from me drinking too much. The boys may have gotten me to drink more than I normally do…” he trailed off as he plated the breakfast he had made for you, placing it on a placemat at the bar and pouring a cup of coffee for you, 3 creams and 2 sugars.
He remembered.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” You walked to the bar taking a seat.
The morning consisted of the two of you genuinely enjoying the presence of the other, catching up on what’s going on in each other’s lives and promising to not let it get this way anymore.
Before Jack left for practice, he had placed a kiss to your lips ever so gently, “I love you,” he whispered, his voice soft and sweet.
How was this the same Jack from last night?
You were sure that you had to be going crazy.
If I go find somebody new
I’d lose your mom and sister too
You know me and how much I hate change
So I guess that’s a reason to stay
And I ain’t perfect either, we all make mistakes
But that don’t change
The Michigan sunset was absolutely breathtaking. The orange and purple hues painting a picture so perfect that it could never be replicated on a canvas. The distant sounds of the guys on the lake could be heard in the distance, the chill of the wind carrying the hoots and hollers from the water to you and Ellen, sitting on the deck attached to the back of the house.
The smell of the deck and the sound of the hundreds of frogs from the water felt like a dream, one that you never wanted to wake up from.
“Jack would probably kill me if he heard me say this, but I really hope you two get married soon. I’d love to have you as my daughter, you know? These boys are a lot sometimes…” Ellen chuckled as she nodded to the boys in the distance.
The comment caught you off guard, a response in favor felt forced, but how were you supposed to tell her that her son was making your life a living hell?
“You’d have to take that up with him,” You smiled at her, not revealing the relationship that was slowly eating away at you.
“I promised to never pressure them to do something that they weren’t ready for, so I’ll let him choose the right time. I just know we all love you. Anytime the other two call home they always ask how you’re doing. I know they talk to Jack about you, too. We didn’t think he’d ever be ready to settle down with a girlfriend, much less one as amazing as you,” She went on, pulling her jacket tighter around her as the absence of the sun left goosebumps on her skin.
“It’s getting cold out here, let’s head inside and you can help me make dinner. I believe we have some wine if you’d like some,” She stood up and headed to the kitchen, waiting for you to follow suite, you smiled.
It was almost a sad smile, grateful that even though Jack wasn’t the man he should’ve been for you, his family loved you. They made you feel safe and loved. They were a safe haven from the toxic tendencies that Jack had taken up when the two of you were in New Jersey.
“I’d love that, Ellen.”
The sound of bare feet padding rapidly against the blades of grass that ran from the dock to the deck made you and Ellen turn your heads towards the window, watching on as Quinn, Luke, and Jack were racing towards the house.
Luke won, his long legs giving him an unfair advantage against his shorter counterparts. Quinn came in second as Jack has tripped over himself.
“What’s for dinner?” Luke panted, reaching for a water bottle out of the fridge and attempting to sit on the couch.
“You’ll find out after you change out of your wet swim trunks,” Ellen gave him a stern look, him raising his arms in defense as he left to go to his room for dry clothes.
You felt an arm snake around your waist, the smell of lake water and sunscreen following behind it. At first you jumped, worried that you had done something wrong.
He chuckled at the sudden movement, not realizing that he was the problem.
“Jumpy, are we?”
You smiled, trying to not cause an issue with him.
“Sorry. Wasn’t expecting you to be so cold,” You felt nasty as you lied through your teeth.
After a few minutes, he finally decided to retreat to the shower to wash the day off of him. You took in your surroundings while he was away.
Quinn and Luke played the Xbox while Ellen prepared the vegetables for dinner and Jim smoked the meat outside. You had been loving this family for years now. You and Ellen had become so close, easily somebody you loved as if she were your own mother.
Jack wouldn’t be the only person that you would have to let go of if you were to leave. As much as you loved his family, it was only natural for them to take his side, something that you understood and admired. You could only wish somebody would take up for you no matter what, and he had 4 people willing to do that for him.
You couldn’t imagine the thought of having to start over with somebody new, having to meet their parents for the first time and being disappointed that they weren’t Ellen and Jim. Being disappointed that their siblings wouldn’t pay the extra money when they accidentally forgot to keep your Snapchat streak going since it was almost 4 years long. Quinn and Luke texted you almost as often as they texted Jack. You were like their sister.
The thought of starting over was enough to have tears stinging at the corner of your eyes. Whatever Jack had done, you couldn’t expect him to be perfect. He’s human, after all. You’d stay if it meant you could keep the Hughes in your life.
I'm runnin' out of patience
Damn, I hate to say it
I'm runnin' out of patience and grace and at the end of the day
Findin' last resort reasons we're okay
Ain't a good reason to stay
“Jack you have purple bruises all on your fucking neck! How stupid do you think I am?!” You barked at him as he sat on the couch facing you.
“Stupid enough to think this is the first time this has happened,” His smug smirk and body language made you want to hurt him. You wanted to hurt him as bad as he’s hurt you for so long now.
“I hate you. I fucking hate you, Jack Hughes. You are the most disgusting person I have ever met and I hope your life becomes a living hell that you can never get out of,” The words came out calmly despite their harsh meaning. It was eerie, making the hairs on Jack’s neck stand up.
“Where do you think you’re going,” He watched as you made your way to the shared bedroom, hearing the sound of a suitcase zipper open.
He jumped up, heading straight for you, but froze as he watched you throw clothes into the suitcase. When that one became full you found another one to shove your clothes into, until the only things left were things you didn’t normally wear.
“What are you doing?” He spat, realizing that the grip he had on you was being relinquished.
“What does it fucking look like? I’m done. I’ve gone crazy trying to love you and I want out. I can’t do this anymore!” You tried to yell, but your throat constricted as it tried its best to sob. You refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you like that, though. He had put you in this state of survival long enough.
“You’re going to regret this…” He trailed off, following you as you threw everything into your car.
“Maybe so, Jack. But I will never regret it as much as I regret falling in love with you. You are an awful person, and I hope everybody will see that one day,” You slammed the door shut and put the car in reverse.
As you made your way down the driveway and street, Jack’s figure became smaller and smaller. Nobody would ever make you feel this way ever again, and you felt sorry for whoever fell into the trap that is Jack Hughes after you.
*
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*
*
HAHA IM SO SORRY!! Also this in no way reflects who Jack is in real life because I, obviously, don’t know him personally. This was so bad though, so I’m actually really sorry.
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johnbassplayercutie · 6 months
Text
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Man-U-Lip-U-Lator
Warnings: 18+, manipulation, fem!reader x stephen glass
Word count: 1.6k
Summary: You work with Stephen, and after a few times of hearing his stories at weekly meetings, you grow suspicious of him. You stay late one day at work when it's just you and him there after everyone's left. Your plan is to interrogate him or at least figure out if he's really telling the truth. You notice he gets up to print some stuff in the printing room and decide on snooping through his things in his office. Once finding incriminating evidence that suggests he's faking everything, he comes back catching you sifting through his stuff (aka his little black book from the movie with all his "info" in it lmao).
part one ♡
— — — —
Stephen finishes up collecting his printed copies and walks back to his office. He's too preoccupied to notice that you’re missing from your own.
Stephen enters, gripping his copies tightly and stands frozen in shock at you leaning over his messy desk of papers.
"What are you doing?!" He whines loudly, noticing you holding his little planner, open to a random page.
You whip your head to the office door and almost yelp out at his sudden appearance. It's too late now to back out.
"You've been lying, haven't you?" You state matter-of-factly rather than a simple question.
"What are you talking about?" Stephen questions as he feigns ignorance to the topic, "Give me back my planner, that's important for my sources!"
"Yeah, yeah. Your sources." You rolled your eyes and finger quoted sarcastically.
"Look, if this is about if Dave ever picked up from the Hackers Organization, I already gave Chuck the correct phone number. I got it confused with another one of my sources." Stephen tried to derail the topic.
"Stephen, I know you’ve been lying. And that goes for the Hackers Organization, too." You state, crossing your arms and holding his planner close.
You know he would try to snatch it at any chance if it means saving his ass from being fired. There was no way you'd let him get the satisfaction.
"Are you mad at me?! Did I do something wrong?" Stephen questions worriedly, "I swear I just made a few mistakes with the details, but I gave Chuck all the correct information!" He babbles on with an anxious tone and demeanor.
His attitude begins to make you falter. Maybe it's all just in your head and you're jealous of his success. You almost feel bad for him, he's practically about to beg on his knees.
No, no, no, snap out of it! You were sure of it.
Stephen steps closer to you, obviously trying to get his planner back. You distance yourself from him but back up into his computer, knocking over his pencil holder on the desk, the contents spilling all over the floor.
"Y/N, watch where you're going! You could've deleted the files on my computer, they’re important!” He whines out like usual. You scramble to the floor, attempting to pick up the scattered pencils whilst placing his planner down beside you.
Stephen eyes his planner down beside you but keeps up with the manipulation tactics. He’s hoping he will dissuade you from what he knows is the truth. He kneels down, helping you pick up the pencils off the floor and returning them into the holder. Stephen stares at you intently before speaking, sure of himself that this lie will work.
"Look, if you really don't believe me, you could always come over to my apartment," You meet his eyes, confused as to how that could even be a solution. He continues on and notices you're not buying it before quickly conjuring up more lies with ease, "I have the cassette tape recordings of my sessions with the Hackers Organization. I could play it for you if you don't believe me. I even have tapes from other editorials I did."
You ponder if he could be really telling you the truth. It wouldn't really hurt to try and hear him out. You still have his planner and you could use it against him as blackmail if all proves false.
"Okay....but if you're lying about this, then I'm going to report you to Chuck. I have this to prove otherwise,"
You reach to grab the planner but notice that it's not where you placed it. You panic internally but try to act calm, then noticing Stephen is grasping the planner for his dear life. You flicker to his hands and his knuckles are white and veins strained.
His eyes meet yours and you can almost see him smirk. Almost.
Damn it.
"Look, I really don't like the way you're treating me. I feel really attacked!" Stephen states, getting suddenly defensive and angry.
"I'm not– I-I just want what's best for our readers and everyone working here." You say softly, feeling put on the spot as he scolds you.
"You're one of my editors! You're supposed to support me, but you're taking Chuck's side over mine!" He raises his voice again, visibly upset, chest rising and falling in agony.
He looks sad, tears forming in his eyes, but something is off. He quickly falters, and you can see him forming a shy smile.
"If you really don't believe me, you can come listen to the cassette tapes..." He says softly and shamefully, like someone denied him of something meaningful. He completely avoids the fact that he just took the notes, spoiling your plans of questioning him.
You have no choice but to do as he says. Your only solution from this disaster was that note planner.
"Alright, fine. Let's go before it's too late. I have more important things to do than deal with this all night." You say exasperated, urging him to grab his things and get this over and done with. The sooner you can hear or not hear these tapes, the closer you are to deciding Stephen's fate.
Stephen takes the planner and stuffs it into his leather briefcase, zipping it up. He can't risk you snatching it away from him again.
He returns to his usual chirpy self, babbling on about random facts, talking about things in his office or his apartment. It's like whatever outburst he had a few minutes ago never happened.
He glances over at you, keeping a close eye on you as he puts his arms through his suit jacket. His gaze is intense and you feel the butterflies in your stomach. The urge to look away is becoming strong but his eyes lure you in. You flush red in the face and suddenly you’re squeezing your thighs together. Only a look from him and you’re already wet.
Stephen’s eyes flicker down, noticing your tension before he looks back to your face, biting his lip knowingly.
You have to admit Stephen was always handsome. You've always kept a watchful eye on him at work, only solidifying the fact. There's no denying that you may have a crush on obsession with him. How else would you suspect he was lying when all you do is eavesdrop and watch him?
Stephen gives a small smile as he adjusts his collar, walking up to you. You feel your heart begin to race at his closeness. He leans in closer, reaching an arm around you. You can hear your heart stop for a second.
A second later, the click of the mouse awakens you from a daze. You can hear his slow breathing next to your ear as he's against you, trapping you against the desk. He whispers softly in your ear, "Just have to save my work and turn off the computer before we go." You can hear him grin before clicking the power button and moving back to face you.
You're in shock at the proximity between the two of you. Your mind is misfiring, confused as to where the shy and boyish Stephen had run off to. No, he was right in front of you...right?
"Stephen, I–" You're about to speak but no words come to mind. You sigh quietly as his hand grazes against your hip, steadying you against his desk.
He quirks a brow, urging you on to continue. He's pleased, his smile coming through as he resists doing so.
"Uh—nevermind." You falter before looking anywhere but at him. His face is so close you could kiss him.
"Okay," He pulls away and shrugs. He's smiling now, flickering his eyes away playfully before turning toward the door. "You should probably grab your coat." Stephen walks over to the chair and grabs his briefcase and coat, waiting for you by the door. His finger rests on the light switch, ready for you to exit his office first.
You're blushing and it's clearly obvious now that he's got you in his trap. You turn to him before walking out his door, "I'll be right back."
You grab your coat and purse and quickly flick off your office lights, closing the door behind you. Stephen's waiting for you by the elevator at the end of the room. As you slip into your coat, Stephen is facing the elevator before turning to you as you approach his side.
"You, first." He states as the door slides open, his gaze holding yours with intensity.
taglist: @nananooti @haydensbbg @ariskywlkr
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 3 months
Text
The Art of Etiquette Part 10 | Jeon Jungkook
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Summary: Your lesson with Jungkook ran a bit longer today so he offers to give you a ride home but decides to make a stop along the way Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2.7k~ Warnings: Suggestive language if you think about it lmao but nothing too crazy a/n: I can't believe it's been this long since I last updated this story 😭 (almost 2 months) I know this chapter is short but the ball is coming up in the next chapter so this was a good stopping point. Hardly edited per usual lol Start from the beginning
"Late again princess. I should start counting at this rate" Jungkooks taunts, his back to me as always when I walk in the room. "Prey tell," he continues, turning to face me and sizing me up like a predator does his prey. "what might your excuse be for being late this time? The roads were quite clear last I checked" he presses, walking closer and closer to me. 
"I-I forgot my shoes at home. I know you told me I needed to break them in so..." I say, being truthful but keeping the matter of being stopped by Foster on my way out of class to myself. 
"Why are you so nervous? Have I done something to frighten you already?" he asks, circling me and slipping my bag off my shoulder before walking over to the chair I usually sit on when I change into my heels before class. 
Gone is the easy going and attentive Jungkook from Sunday, leaving a hungry dominant one in it's wake. 
"I'm not frightened" I argue, following him so I can sit down but when I reach for the box that contains the shoes in question he gives me a warning glance, leaving me recoiling and letting him do as he pleases. 
Okay so maybe I am a little frightened but I just don't know where we stand and that fact alone has me on edge. 
"You look at me as though you were afraid I might gobble you up" he smirks, kneeling before me and helping me slip them on. "You look at me as though you would" I throw back and the look in his eyes goes from mischief to one of challenge, knowing now that I'm willing to play into his little game. 
"Is that something you'd like?" he asks, licking his bottom lip making my eyes draw straight to them. "Is that something you'd like?" I echo, throwing the taunt right back. He smirks softly and runs one of his hands up the back of my calf, no higher than my knee but still sparking a flame alight inside me.
"Answering a question with a question, I was under the impression I taught you better than that" he says and removes that hand that I begged would climb higher, him choosing to stand up and straighten his appearance instead, walking towards the sound system to turn on the endless ballroom music I'm sure we'll be dancing to. 
Damn him and his flirting! Can't he ever just follow through with one thing? 
~~~~~
As our lessons draw to a close he hands me a bottle of water, leaving me accepting and downing half of it in one go. 
I feel his eyes on me, watching as a stray droplet trails down my cheek to the column of my neck and collarbone until it disappears under my blouse and it seems as though he wishes he could tear it away and find where else that droplet might've traveled. 
I finished drinking moments before it disappeared, watching him as he watched it, his eyes fluttering up to mine seconds later and noticing my stare. Clearing his throat in response he turns away and goes to shut off the sound system for the rest of the day. 
"Your dancing is improving" he says once he's walked back towards me, giving me a towel to dab off the light sheen of sweat that had appeared during the final three songs. "I only stepped on your foot once today" I say feeling a tad victorious. 
"Twice" he corrects gaining him a frown. "That one doesn't count! My foot barely grazed yours" I groan and he chuckles, "Still hurt though" he says with a shrug. 
"Really?" I cringe, hating the thought that I somehow still seemed to hurt him even after all the time we've spent running through all these steps together. He grants me a devious smile before stepping towards me, one of his feet closer to mine now. I look up at him with a questioning gaze, waiting for what he might say but it wasn't something I had expected. 
"Step on it" he says, smirking at the confusion now running through my whole body leaving me recoiling instead. "What?" I question, baffled by the absurdity of the request and he chuckles, thoroughly amused with my reaction. He glances down at his shoe and back up at me, daring me not to and I narrow my eyes at him while contemplating it for a second but decide to do it anyway, being met with a hard shell encasing the front of his foot.
"Steel toe dress shoes? Really" I roll my eyes, walking over to my stuff so I can take my heels off, feet thoroughly abused with the whole task of breaking them in. "They're very useful when you're in the line of work that I'm in" he responds, amused by my reaction of him revealing his secret to me. 
"I bet they are" I respond and once I'm back in my flat shoes again I stand up but lose my footing after having spent all this time on my toes. "Are you okay?" he asks, catching me right away. "Yeah I'm fine. Dancing with new shoes was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be" I explain and he nods his head, understanding completely and lets go so I can stand on my own. 
"Were you planning on teaching me anything else tonight? It's already a little past the usual time we wrap things up" I ask, checking my phone and then glancing outside, seeing that the sun is long gone. 
"Oh I apologize, I seem to have lost track of time. Let me drop you off then" he says, grabbing his keys. "I drove here though, and I'd hate to have James send someone to pick up the car again" I try to refuse, ultimately knowing I'll lose the battle but still doing so nevertheless. 
"It's fine, I can come pick you up from home and take you to campus when I drop off Bam at his trainers in the morning" he says and I stop in front of his car while he goes to the passenger side and opens the door for me. 
"Isn't that a little too much? I don't want you going out of your way to do that for me" I say, making excuses so he doesn't feel like he has to do all of that. "It's completely fine y/n. I pass by your house on my way home anyway so I don't mind adding a couple of extra stops since I don't have much planned in the morning" he replies and I nod my head, slowly making my way over to his car. 
"I really don't mind driving in the dark Jungkook my vision is completely fine" I relay, trying to back out once again but this time he walks up to me and ushers me over to the car by my waist so I have no other option but to get in. 
"Okay but I-" I start, turning to face him before I get in, not knowing how close his face had been to me, leaving our lips mere inches apart. He tilts his head and hums, urging me to continue. I try to find the words I mean to say but they are buried in the deep recesses of mind, whisked away with the proximity between us. 
"I'll pick you up once your classes have ended as well. That way you'll be here on time tomorrow" he says, touching my jaw for a second before leaning in. "Get in the car" he whispers against my cheek leaving me quickly turning around and doing as he says before he can see my expression. 
Seconds later I could've sworn that I heard him chuckle and mumble a quiet 'Cute' under his breath before closing the door and rounding the car to his side. 
~~~~
After we've been driving for a bit I notice how he's pulled off onto a dirt road and I'm instantly confused. 
"Is this where you plan on killing me?" I joke, curious as to where we're going. "If I wanted to kill you Pretty," he starts, paying close attention as we round a bend, pausing in his response for a second. "you'd already be dead" he finishes, sending a chill through my body and when he notices how stiff I've gone he gives me a sly smile before turning back to make sure we get to our destination safely. 
"I went ahead and messaged Matthew and asked him to inform James that our lessons ran a little late so they won't be too concerned" he says, putting the car in park and unbuckling his seatbelt. "So this is where you're going to kill me" I say and he chuckles again before tapping me twice under my chin. "You're cute when you're scared" he says before opening his door and rounding to open mine.
I cross my arms over my chest, thoroughly annoyed by the fact that I let him get away with stuff like this to the point where I actually prefer it. I'll never give him the satisfaction of knowing that though. Knowing him though he's probably already very aware of it, otherwise he wouldn't keep pushing my buttons. 
When he opens the door I glare up at him keeping that same posture and he smirks down at me while offering his hand to help me up. "Where are we?" I ask and he lets out a dry chuckle. "Get out of the car and you'll find out" he temps and I look between him and his outstretched hand that is still waiting for me to take and against my better judgement I decide to dance with the Devil. 
Who would blame me though when he looks at me like that, a heated gaze that never truly acts upon the sinful desires hidden behind them.
Stepping out of the car we're met with an open expanse of land, not a single soul or building in sight with only the low hum of vehicles barely audible from the highway behind us. "What is this place?" I question marveling at the serenity of it all, breathing in the could night air and letting the chill surround me. 
I shiver slightly as it's seeped through my clothes a lot sooner than one might think and just as I'm about to wrap my arms around myself for warmth I'm met with a coat being draped across my shoulders and when I turn around I see he's looking up towards the sky. 
"Have you looked up yet?" he ask, the body heat from him wearing it moments ago still present making me shiver for another reason but once I do look up none of it matters anymore as I take in the sight of thousands of heavenly bodies strewn across the clear night sky. 
"I-" "You were so concerned with the thought of me harming you that you didn't even notice the clear purpose of me wanting to bring you here" he say, cutting off whatever nonsense I was about to let tumble out of my mouth. I sigh in response, not bothering to ruin this moment of peace with nonsensical bickering since he's clearly done this with me in mind.
"How did you find this place?" I ask after having taken in the sight of it, countless start twinkling above us. "I went driving one day and my car broke down so I pulled off near the entrance of this little dirt road and while I was waiting for the tow truck I walked down the path and well..." he says, trailing off making me fill in the obvious blanks. 
"I see" I respond and we stay silent for a while, the both of us standing there with all of our thoughts angled up towards the heavens until he finally speaks again. "I should probably get you home" he says, turning towards me but I shake my head.
 "No, no not yet. Can we stay a little longer? Please?" I ask, this moment difficult to let go just yet and can see him smiling at me from the corner of my eye as I continue to keep my eyes on the stars above, praying that I'll be able to feel this way forever...
~~~~~
When he parks his car in the driveway and opens the door for me he keeps me there for a second, not letting me get away so fast this time. "Thank you for letting me keep you a little longer tonight" he says, ghosting his hand on my waist and it's then that I realize I'm still wearing the coat he let me borrow. I try to take off but he grabs both of the open sides and pulls them together, trapping me inside and in turn pulling me closer to him.
"I wanted to give your jacket back to you" I mumble since the intimate space between us makes even that sound too loud. "I realize that, but I want to get you inside first before taking it back. Don't want you to catch a cold after all the effort I put in to make sure you stayed warm" he explains, one of his hands now holding onto my waist while the other keeps the coat closed.
I hum in response and look away as I notice he's started to study my features. "The ball is this weekend" he says and I nod my head. "I know" I mumble again, my expression now one of doubt. "Hey" he says, cupping my face, trying to make me meet his gaze but my eyes then turn downward in response. 
"There's nothing to worry about y/n, I promise" he says and I nod my head again, not bothering to utter a word in response. He tilts my chin up and I give in, letting my eyes peer back into his and I notice how sincere he looks, an expression I don't think I've ever seen from him leaving me holding my breath and waiting for him to continue. 
"No matter what happens just remember that I'm proud of you. You've done well in our lessons and I have no doubt that everyone is going to love you" he reassures me making me feel a little more at ease with the thought of it all but also nervous about him saying things like this to me.
"Thank you Jungkook" I whisper and he smiles in response before reaching into the car to grab my bag that's still on my seat and handing it to me. "Let's get you inside" he says placing his hand on the small of my back, walking me to the front door and stopping right outside of it, waiting for me to unlock it. 
Once I step inside I turn around to say something but he steps inside making me take a step back but he takes another step closer so he's standing right in front of me, hardly any space between us now. 
I blink up at him, not really sure what his plan is before he slowly unzips the coat the rest of the way, making my breath hitch, the feeling of him taking my clothes off even if it's as simple as this making my brain short circuit. Once he unhooks it at the bottom he pushes it off my shoulders and leans in to help it slide down my arms leaving me shivering once his warm breath hits my neck. 
He hums, satisfied by my response and places a feather light kiss under my ear before quickly pulling back and pretending as if nothing had happened meanwhile leaving me completely flustered by his ministrations. 
Let's just say I'm lucky neither of my parents came downstairs to greet us. 
"Sweet dreams" he says playfully and slips out without another word, walking over to his car and driving off. I only close the door once his car is out of view, my back against it now, catching my breath as I think about everything that happened today and all I can think of is 'How the hell am I supposed to take much more of this?'
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wheneverfeasible · 17 days
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🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠
Thank you for the tags @scoops-aboy86 and @endlessmusings1801!
Okay so hear me out. This was a worm I’ve been thinking about lately, which is bizarre, because it isn’t inherently Steddie…
But we get all kinds of fics of if Eddie and/or Robin were pulled into things earlier than their seasons. But…
What if Tommy and Carol were pulled into things with Steve? Like, picture it…
Instead of ditching Steve after his fight with Jonathan, Steve and Tommy and Carol hash it out a bit more, get into a bigger argument maybe even, and maybe they do separate for a bit. But then they’re still friends, so maybe they huff and puff about it but they talk things out too. Maybe Steve even gets to somewhat convince them that they should all apologize, even if Tommy and Carol don’t really want to or care all that much.
So all three of them go to do so, and all three of them see the demogorgon, and all three of them have that life altering paradigm shift. Maybe Carol and Tommy don’t change completely, at least not immediately, but they’re forced to confront that there’s more than just high school popularity contests, and maybe they become just that little bit of better people.
Maybe Carol and Nancy have a genuine talk, genuinely open up to each other, and no one can ever replace Barb of course, but it’s nice to have another female friend, even if they’re pretty much polar opposites.
Tommy isn’t fond of Jonathan at all, because demogorgon aside, it was creep behavior taking photos of them like that. Tommy helps pitch in to get Jonathan his new camera though, because he egged on Steve’s insecurities (brought on by the fact that Steve’s dad has cheated on his mom so he’s really sensitive to potential cheating in partners) and he guesses he’s partly to blame. He rolls his eyes about it, but Steve is happy he has his friend beside him still.
Tommy and Carol don’t really take to the kids much, but Carol does secretly enjoy getting into bitching sessions with Mike, and later Erica.
When Billy shows up, maybe Tommy and Carol start backsliding. Maybe they have to have a big blowup. Maybe they aren’t there when Steve gets dragged in helping Dustin, at least not immediately, but maybe they hear about Steve dealing with that without them because they chose Billy and they just…they…
They can’t believe they left Steve to deal with that horror by himself. They feel guilty and terrible and they tell Billy off. They can’t believe they chose some stupid popularity that doesn’t even matter over the guy that literally went to bat for them. They’re at the end with him, apologizing for not being there before, and they become even better people.
They come around to lovingly tease Steve at his job at Scoops, wheedling free ice cream out of him. And who knows, maybe telling Billy off changes the third season, maybe them being there, better people and supportive of Steve changes things, maybe the three of them can even change Billy to an extent. Maybe, Steve and Tommy and Carol and Billy hashing it all out and coming to terms with the toxicity of high school and judgemental parents and a society that believes you need to be a certain way to matter…maybe it changes things for the better.
Idk. I’ve just always wondered how things would have gone if Tommy and Carol had been exposed to the truth the first season.
And then blah blah blah, Steve and Eddie eventually fuck about it. Because I am nothing if not a Steddie truther in everything. And who knows…maybe Robin and Carol fuck about it also 😏
-
Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus
Co-Hostage tag for this: @katyawriteswhump
No pressure participation tag: @stervrucht (I know you’ve been tagged already but lmao I’m tagging YOU first this time anyways lmaoooo) @fkinkindagauche @steddiecameraroll @henderdads @queenie-ofthe-void
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sillyunknownkitkat · 10 months
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hihi!! could i please request a ink sans x reader, in which the reader adores physical touch? tysm!!! Please take as much time as you need, and if you don't feel up to it, please ignore this!! <33
Ink Sans x clingy/touchy reader
[Btw sorry it's posted this late :( I hope you like it, tho!]
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Now, we all know (I think) that Ink doesn't have any feelings of his own, he's has to take the vials to feel something right?
While I feel like he could be in a relationship, I hope you're not too sensitive because he doesn't actually love you because, you know, he literally can't feel any emotion
Also, I'm pretty sure that it's canon that he has a very bad memory (He doesn't have a soul, so he's just living). So he'll probably forget about you..
"But why would he ask me out then?" You may ask. Well, it's probably because someone in the Noot Noot gang (I stand by this name) or Error has a crush on you. He's just messing with them
Or maybe you belong to an Au where you being with him would create an unexpected reaction (at least to his eyes)
I have headcanons about the start sanses if you'd like more depth to this, but Blue will send reminder to Ink so he doesn't hurt you by forgetting you or something. He's definitely not happy that Ink is using you, but at the same time, he doesn't want to break your heart/soul by telling you the truth.
Dream probably avoids you. He doesn't know what to do, honestly.
Well, let's ACTUALLY start making headcanons for what you asked (after breaking you, lmao)
At first, he was really weird about it. He didn't get why you felt like you had to be glued to him to feel good, but after some recherches, (don't think I spelled that right but wtv) well more like after harrasing Blue about it, he understood. Well, no, not really, but he kinda gets the point
So when he's with you, he'll try to give you as much attention as he can. If he remembers you in the first place.
It goes from awkwardly patting you on the back to laying himself on top of you to clinging to you to the point that you can't move
Yeah... it's all or nothing with Ink, but hey! You got your touch ( ^∀^)
No, but for real, you deserve way better, I'm sorry, but it is what it is
He's not a good guy, but it could be interesting to be friend with him if you do anything special around in the multiverse
Like he takes advantage of you, but I don't think it's that hard enough to take advantage of him either, actually
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I'm so sorry for this, you waited so long and for what? Me telling you that it's pretty much impossible. ( TДT)
No, but for real, if you want to, I can explain why I feel that way about him, but like- I can't fake liking him 100%
I do think he's a really awesome character but he's not good per say (does this make any sense?)
Well I need sleep lol
Have a good day/night and again I'm so sorry for this garbage
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deadbydangit · 1 year
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Reactions of the Entity threatening their S/o's life if they don't do a better job in the trials? Maybe they've been slacking recently, even just a little. And the Entity threatens to kill to torture poor S/o if they don't do better :(
S/o still all over them they don't give af lmao
This with Ghostface, Frank, Trickster, and Knight please? Thank you <3
Oh, I like this one. Might use it for the future. Actually, I might do a whole story based on the last one. Please, enjoy.
Entity threatening killer to do better or Reader S/O gets tortured.
Ghostface, Legion (Frank), Trickster, Knight
Ghostface
First, he's going to be offended.
Him? Slacking?
No he hasn't!
Okay, maybe he's been a bit lazy.
Fix his camera and he'd do better!
It isn't his fault that it got broken!
Okay, it is.
But... Still fix it!
But when the damned sky octopus starts threatening you?
Oh boy!
He'll threaten the Entity back.
"Well fuck you, you piece of **** **** ****"
Very colorful words.
But when he realizes that's not doing anything, he's going to follow through.
Survivors have realized he's been a lot more brutal.
Many of the killers have too.
He won't tell them the reason.
Danny won't even tell you the reason.
He's seemed more distant lately, like he's afraid to touch you.
You're worried, but he'll assure you that everything is fine.
If anyone gets wind you're his weak spot, then who knows what kind of danger you'd be in.
He won't let anything stand in his way.
If it means stepping up his game, then so be it.
He won't let that fucker touch you.
He would never let anyone hurt you.
Legion (Frank)
The Entity gave him booze as a reward.
Lots of booze.
Lots and lots of booze.
And Frank has next to no self control.
So much that he's been going into trials with pretty nasty hangovers.
And he's getting sloppy.
Yeah yeah, he knows.
Just give him five more minutes of sleep.
But once the fucking Entity threatens you?
He's going to challenge the Entity to a fist fight.
That won't do anything, but it makes him feel like he got his message through.
He's right off the bottle.
You weren't sure what got into him, but you were pretty proud he wasn't drinking nearly as much.
But you were worried about how hard he was pushing himself in trials.
He's hurting himself.
He can only frenzy so often before it starts to take a toll on his health.
He's exhausted.
Confront him, and he'll tell you the truth.
He really doesn't want to though.
The rest of the Legion are all worried and have made a promise to start working harder.
Make sure to give him all your attention and love for a while.
Hearing what he's doing, all for you?
He deserves it.
Trickster
Yeah he's doing worse.
Entity dear you've cut off his moisturizer, foundation, eyeliner, eye shadow and everything else he uses to keep himself looking like the God he is.
Can't let the survivors look at him like he's one of the other heathens.
So yeah, he's doing worse.
Now he's being threatened? With you being hurt?
Ji-Woon doesn't take to threats kindly.
He's used to getting everything he wants with the snap of his fingers.
He isn't used to working for things.
But, for you, he will.
If that means you stay safe, then he'll suck up his pride and get more serious about his job.
No, he will not tell you or anyone else for his increased brutality.
He won't tell you why he keeps appearing with more and more bruises after trials.
He's a very stubborn man and will admittedly refuse to tell you anything about the deal he and the Entity made.
He's just been extra touchy with you lately.
It's easier to give into his demands for attention than fight it.
If only you knew the lengths he was going through.
But, in his eyes, he deserves that.
Knight
Accusing him of slacking?
Slander!
How dare the sky God dishonor him and his men!
They've been doing very well.
Unfortunately, the Entity's supply of food is for one person, and there are four of them.
Naturally, they have to share.
And, naturally, they're weaker.
You've offered to share, but they won't take food from you.
It's a whole chivalry thing.
But the idea of you getting hurt for his failures?
The Entity was dealing a dirty blow.
Tarhos, Alejandro, Durkos, and Sander will gather up all their remaining strength to protect you.
To serve Tarhos, their captain.
And, they have grown rather fond of you.
And it's obvious that, despite their weakened state, they are more malicious in trials.
They will not share why they're doing this with anyone.
But they're growing weaker by the day.
Tarhos can hardly stand anymore, let alone lift his sword.
And the truth will come out.
The Entity will have to cave eventually and provide them more food and supplies in order to keep them alive.
Make sure to give all of them the extra love they deserve.
They did all that because they truly care about you.
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frenziedslashers · 2 years
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Negans reaction to reader being pregnant with his baby? Head canons or a short story are fine!!!
Negan Reaction To A Pregnant S/O:
A/N: I am working on a Negan and Reader having a baby request rn actually, so this will be some Headcanons lmao. I got like 5 anons with baby fever in my ask box rn and I am here to support you all LMAO
Pairing: Negan x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: No specific pronouns used, Negan (He's crazy let's be fr), Mentions of Lucille, Mentions of the other wives, canon typical violence, Negan has Baby FeverTM, Pregnancy, Pet names, let me know if I need to add more!
REQUEST INFO || TWD MASTERLIST
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He still has multiple wives when you find out, so you're very hesitant about telling him. He's mentioned to you a lot more personal things than he ever did any of the other women, but you still were uncertain if you were really his favorite. Plus, even though he mentioned that he and his actual wife, Lucille, had wanted a baby. You weren't sure if he still wanted that baby, especially with you.
You try avoiding him for a few weeks, but it doesn't work. He finds you and confronts you about the behavior. He doesn't raise his voice with you once, though. Any of his other spouses he would, but you took a notice that they weren't even his spouses anymore. They were mostly just his servants and leverage against Dwight and some of the other men he took the girls from.
"What's been with you lately? I haven't seen ya around. I didn't do anything, did I?" He'd ask, and you'd feel your heart swell because for some reason you did love him. Even if at first you weren't the only person he was sleeping with.
You'd be scared, and he could tell that something was up so he'd lead you into either your own room or his room - whichever was closer - in order to give you privacy and set you down beside him. "Come on honey, you can talk to me," he'd assure, smiling as he reached up to brush his knuckles over your cheeks.
"I'm pregnant, and it's yours."
He wouldn't react at first. His eyes wide as he stared at you and it'd scare you. You'd be afraid he might kill you and stick you out on that fence to deter his enemies from the compound - but then he finally reacted.
"Mine? My baby... I'm gonna be a dad?" He'd ramble, jolting to his feet as a surge of energy shot through his body. Leaving you sitting on the bed alone as he paced the room in front of you. "We're having a cub?" He'd speak and his voice would crack. Facing you with the biggest and most genuine smile, his eyes brimmed with tears and he raced back over to you. Long strides making his way to in front of you so he could kneel. Being just a little shorter than you on the bed, now.
"How far are you?" He'd ask, and you could practically feel the excitement that radiated off the man, and it gave you hope that your kid might actually get a good father. "Only a few weeks, a month at most the doc said." You spoke, and he reached up to hold the sides of your face. "I hope they have your eyes," He'd tell you, and you'd feel your whole body heat up. Eyes darting to the side with a sheepish smile, but it was quick to fade.
"What's wrong?" He'd asked. "I'm not really that important, though. You have other wives, it could have been one of them carrying your baby." You frowned, and he shook his head. "I stopped sleeping with them a long time ago, honey bunches," he'd tell you, rubbing his thumbs over your cheek bones. "Stopped claiming them, too. They're just kept up here to keep the guys in line." he'd hum, "I only want you, I promise you that. Have I ever lied?" He hadn't. He always told you the truth and you both knew it.
He'd prove it to your further by even making it so the other women dressed in more casual clothing. None of them referred to him as anything other than Negan, and he'd walk you around with his hand on your hip, on the small of your back, or in your hand constantly. He wants to prove to you that you are the only one he thinks about. The only spouse that he wants.
He'd eventually ask you to "marry" him after he figured you trusted him enough to do so. If you say no, he gets it, but if you say yes he's ecstatic. He loves you, truly, and he's glad that you agreed to be with him til death do you part.
When you were far enough along that you couldn't hide the bump in your stomach any longer Negan would call a meeting to the people. Standing above them all with you by his side while everyone kneeled before the two of you. His hand resting on your stomach while he held you close.
"Some of you may already know, but I wanted to make it official. My Honey-bear and I are having a cub of our own here soon." He'd tell them, all while looking at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes that it made your heart soar. "There's about to be a little Negan running around. They're gonna be such a little shit too," He'd announce with such an enthusiastic voice, and you'd chuckle. "Well, let's hope they don't have your complete personality, then." He'd snicker at this, pulling you in for a kiss that he couldn't help but grin like a fool into. Everyone would cheer for you both, because truly. None of them had seen their leader so happy with anyone.
Negan would get more and more protective over you the closer you got to popping. He'd be by your side, making sure you had everything you need. He wouldn't let anyone get too close to you. He was already protective of you, but now was worse. You'd be off limits to everyone except for his previous wives that he knew you trusted. They'd help you when he was gone. They were happy for you, truly. Plus, you practically granted them freedom.
Negan would cry when the baby was born. He secretly hoped it was a little boy, and he'd so thrilled if it was a boy. He'd be bouncing off the walls and trying to convince you to let him name it Negan Jr. but really he'd be fine with about anything you came up with. He wasn't picky.
If it was a little girl though? Oh, that feels so much different for the man. He's holding the girl with practical heart eyes. Smiling as tears roll down his cheeks and he stares at her. "Hi, baby bear," he'd coo, and choke on a sob if they cooed back. He's never letting his little girl out of his sight. He's gonna be the most protective Papa Bear anyone knows. Everyone better pray that he they don't hurt her in anyway.
He'd spoil the shit out of his kid. Ordering his men to get them toys out on their runs. He'd let his kid get away with murder and just smile while cheering them on. They can do no wrong in his eyes.
With Negan being their dad. Expect the kid to be repeating some pretty interesting words as it gets older. "Suck my dick," "You wanna taste your own balls today?" "Fuck" "Shit" you name it. They've got quite the vocabulary as they get older and you're thankful school systems don't exist anymore.
Negan is the type of dad to do everything with his kid and even takes some time away from leading the saviors and puts Simon in charge for a while so he can spend it with you and the baby. He still doesn't let Simon get away with the stupid things he wants to do and still attends the meetings though to makes sure the system doesn't fail.
Everyone adores you and the baby. You two are the new celebrities in the factory, and everyone loves how happy you both make Negan. He swears up and down that he won't ever let anything happen to you or his baby.
"Personally, I think I deserve another baby... Maybe another five more." He'd tell you, and if you didn't say no, he'd be taking that as a yes. He loves kids and wants as many as you'll have for him. Plus, he loves the way you look when you're carrying his child. How your skin seems to glow, how round and soft you are. He wishes cameras still existed so he could have a photo or two of you.
He loves his little family, and even if you only had one kid for him, or if you decided to have one more or a few more. He's happy and content. He never thought he'd have the chance to be a Daddy and he is forever thankful that you not only gave him that opportunity. But also that it's you that he gets to share these moments with.
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chelseachilly · 1 year
Text
the easy silence that you make for me
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pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: you’ve been struggling with anxiety due to stress at work recently, and you refuse to let ben see it until he flies you out to mykonos for the weekend and you can’t keep it in anymore (fluff + light angst) warnings: mentions of an anxiety attack word count: 5k
author’s note: thanks to the anon who requested this, it was nice to write something quick (which ended up being 5k lmao) before embarking on my next ben multi-chap! if anyone has any more concept/one-shot requests for ben in the meantime feel free to send them my way 🥰
-
After an exhausting season for Chelsea and a particularly difficult one for Ben with his second major injury in two years and missing the World Cup, you know badly he’s in need of a holiday.
When he tells you of his travel plans with the boys for the beginning of summer, a part of you feels relieved that he’s going to finally get the chance to unwind with his mates and leave the past year behind him.
Another part of you, though, is dreading him being away.
You haven’t wanted to bother Ben with it, as he’s had enough of his own stuff going on, but work has been kicking your arse lately. You got promoted recently and although it seemed great at first, it’s more responsibility than you anticipated and much more stress.
The only solace you’ve found during this time has been in Ben. Although you haven’t let him see how much you’re struggling, just his presence is incredibly comforting to you. To come home after a long, terrible day and find him standing in the kitchen making you dinner in his underwear, a bright smile on his face when he sees you, is all the remedy you need.
The moment he leaves for Spain, you feel your mental health start to decline. You know you can’t be with him all the time, and you’ve certainly dealt with separations before when he was away on international break, but this is by far the hardest one yet.
Ben texts you constantly throughout the trip, updating you on the fun he’s having with the boys at the F1 and telling you how much he wishes you were there with him. Obviously, you can’t take weeks off to follow him around Europe, as much as you wish you could.
You struggle more and more as the first two weeks of his time away comes to an end. The days are long, as you work yourself to the bone and come home completely exhausted, but the nights are even harder as you find it increasingly difficult to fall asleep without Ben next to you.
One night, when you know for a fact that Ben is chilling with the boys at the house they’ve rented in Mykonos as you’re tossing and turning in bed, you admit defeat and reach for your phone to text him. It’s a couple hours later there, but they’re probably still up.
You Hey, are you still awake? x
Ben ❤️ Yeah, what’s up baby? Everything ok?
You Just having trouble sleeping
Your phone starts ringing within seconds, and you accept Ben’s call right away.
“Hi,” you mumble quietly into the phone, sitting up a bit in bed.
“Are you alright, love?” Ben asks you, his voice full of concern.
“I’m fine,” you say quickly, snuggling into the pillow that still smells a bit like him. “I just miss you.”
It’s not the entire truth, but you know it’s all you can say to him without him booking a flight home to you this instant and abandoning his holiday, so you leave it at that.
“Oh, babe, I miss you too,” Ben sighs. “One more week, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you agree halfheartedly, though that feels like centuries right now.
“Are you really okay?” Ben asks worriedly. “Because I can come home-“
“No way, Ben,” you cut him off. “You’re not coming home early for me, I won’t allow it.”
“But-“
“I’m fine, I swear,” you lie. “I just needed to hear your voice for a bit.”
That part is true - Ben’s soft, soothing voice is like music to your ears, making you feel more relaxed already.
There are muffled voices on the other end for a moment, and then Ben speaks again.
“Why don’t you fly out after work tomorrow and spend the weekend here?”
Although the thought of being in Ben’s arms less than 24 hours from now is incredibly appealing, you can’t help but feel hesitant.
For one thing, you don’t want to spend the money on a last-minute flight, and though you know Ben will offer to pay for it, you don’t like how much money he spends on you as it is.
You also feel a bit weird crashing his boys trip, knowing that none of the other guys’ girlfriends are there at the moment and you would be the only one.
When you voice these concerns to Ben, however, he won’t hear it.
“Babe, don’t be silly, we’d love to have you. I just asked the boys and they all agreed,” he insists. “And I’m getting you a flight right now-“
“Ben, I-“
“Look, I miss you like crazy too, so it’s more of a gift for me than anything else,” he tells you. “We’ll just have a nice relaxing weekend and you’ll be back at work for Monday. Please, Y/N?”
You pause for a moment, but you know you’re incapable of saying no to him, especially when you miss him this badly and are struggling so much.
“Alright, I’ll come,” you say with a small smile.
“Yes! I can’t wait to see you,” Ben responds, and you can hear his grin through the phone. “I’ll send you the flight details and pick you up at the airport when you get here. Just try to get some sleep now, okay?”
The thought of being able to fall asleep in his arms tomorrow is just enough to be able to lull you to rest tonight, so after exchanging “I love you”s you bid him goodnight and close your eyes.
-
The next day, your anxiety persists as you hurry to finish up your work responsibilities so that you can make your flight on time.
Unfortunately, a last-minute emergency (which there seem to be a lot of these days) at the office means that you have to scramble to get out of there on time to get home, pack, and make your way to the airport.
Your stress dissipates a bit as you settle in for the flight, enjoying the comfy first class seat Ben got you and a couple glasses of champagne. Most importantly, you remind yourself that you’ll soon be by Ben’s side and everything will be right in your world again.
By the time you land on Mykonos, you’re already feeling a bit better, but it’s nothing compared to when you see your boyfriend for the first time in two weeks.
He’s standing in the arrivals area, wearing a simple black t-shirt and shorts with his blue Nikes. He’s slightly tan, his hair is a bit tousled, and he looks more relaxed than you’ve seen him all year. He also looks incredibly attractive to you right now (even more so than usual) which could be his whole holiday vibe or the fact that you haven’t seen him in weeks - or both.
The moment he sees you, his bright blue-green eyes that rival the colour of the sea you just flew over light up and his face stretches into a smile.
He jogs over to you with open arms and you meet him halfway, dropping your bag to throw your arms around him and hug him tightly.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Ben mumbles into your hair as he hugs you just as close, briefly lifting your feet off the ground. “God, I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” you sigh into his neck, pressing a few quick kisses there. “So much, Ben.”
You could almost cry from the relief of being held by him, his hand rubbing circles on your lower back and the scent of his aftershave as you breathe him in making your worries melt away.
When Ben tries to pull back a bit and you reflexively cling to him tighter, not ready to let him go, he just tightens his grip on you and presses a kiss to your temple.
“Is everything okay, love?” he whispers near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
Of course, after a couple of years together, Ben is able to read you pretty easily. Between your phone call last night and the way you’re clinging to him like a lifeline right now, it’s fairly obvious that something is up with you.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you say to him, grateful your face is still buried in his neck so he can’t tell you’re lying.
You aren’t all good, but you are better than you’ve been since he left, and you aren’t going to waste your weekend together before another week and a half apart. There’s still a pit of anxiety in your stomach, but you’re determined to not let that ruin your time with him or his holiday.
To prove your point, you pull back from him and take his face in your hands, admiring him for a moment before pulling him in for a long kiss.
He sighs into your mouth and grips your waist tighter as you kiss him, both of you wanting it to escalate more than you reasonably can in the middle of an airport.
When you pull away, resting your forehead against his for a moment, you think the kiss may have erased Ben’s previous concern from his mind, but no such luck.
“You promise you’re alright?” Ben murmurs, cupping your face and brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I was worried about you last night.”
Your heart swells with affection for a moment at his gentle concern, but then you remember this is the last thing you want - Ben should be relaxing, not worrying about you.
“I promise, babe,” you say with another gentle peck to his lips. “I was just missing you, but I’m good now. Perfect, actually.”
Ben nods, though he still looks slightly unconvinced. He does drop the subject though, at least for now.
Grabbing your bag in one hand and your hand in the other, Ben leads you out of the airport to the car that’s waiting to take you back to the house.
You can tell how much lighter he seems than the last time you saw him, telling you excitedly about everything he and the boys have been getting up to and how nice it’s been.
When you arrive at the beautiful house with an infinity pool overlooking the sea, you’re greeted with enthusiasm by all of Ben’s mates. They’re always nice to you, and have been since you first met them at the beginning of the relationship, but you wonder if Ben told them to be extra nice or something - Harvey has you in a tight hug and Anish is offering you a cocktail before you’re even through the door.
You all settle into the patio furniture out back with some drinks and dinner that the guys made, enjoying some music and the gorgeous sunset over the water. It takes you a bit of time to ease into the relaxation after being so tense for weeks, but it’s hard not to feel at total peace when you’re in such a beautiful place surrounded by people you love.
You’re curled up on the sofa with Ben, your legs draped over his lap and your hands intertwined, when the idea of going to a club is suggested.
While all the others are in agreement, Ben turns to you and murmurs quietly in your ear.
“Totally up to you, babe,” he says. “I’d be just as happy to stay here with you and watch a film or something.”
As appealing as it sounds to stay in alone with Ben, all the boys seem to be buzzing to go out and you don’t want to put a damper on things by insisting he stay here with you.
“No, let’s go,” you say with a small smile, trying to encourage yourself as well. “It’ll be fun, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Ben grins, leaning in to kiss you.
You quickly get ready while Ben takes a quick shower, grateful that you remembered to bring one outfit suitable for going out, a simple light blue dress with matching heels.
You’re just doing up the straps on your shoes, sitting on the bed, when Ben walks out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. You take a moment to admire your boyfriend, your eyes raking over his defined muscles.
“You look incredible,” Ben says, walking in your direction with a smile on his face.
“You look pretty good right now, too,” you tease, very obviously checking him out.
“Oh yeah?” Ben smirks, coming closer and bending down to kiss you.
“Mhm,” you mumble against his lips, hands resting on his bare shoulders as you anchor yourself to him, pulling him in for another deep kiss.
You’re interrupted by the sound of someone knocking, immediately followed by Tom’s voice on the other side of the door.
“I’ve ordered the Uber, hurry up you two!”
Ben groans and reluctantly pulls away from you with one more quick kiss.
“To be continued,” he says emphatically as he goes to get dressed.
“Definitely,” you chuckle, already looking forward to getting lost in him the moment you get back tonight.
Within ten minutes, you’re all out the door and on the way to the club. It’s a big, glamorous beachfront club that’s already packed with hundreds of people by the time you arrive. Clubbing was never really your thing, but you’ve found that the ones Ben and his friends go to - on the higher end, with decent music and comfy booths - are generally pretty fun.
Harvey gives your names at the door and soon you’re immersed in the party, Ben’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist as you navigate the room to get to the VIP section.
The first hour or so you’re there is mostly nice, enjoying the feeling of being pressed up against Ben’s side as you sip on overpriced champagne and enjoy the music. You have fun chatting and catching up with all the boys about their various work endeavours and the girls they’re seeing.
You try to suppress thoughts of work and all the stress that is waiting for you when you return to reality on Monday, and you’re mostly successful.
Until you make the mistake of checking your phone in the bathroom and see a million work-related emails that have piled up since you last looked.
You know everything can wait til after your little weekend getaway is over, but the thought of facing another week of hell without Ben home to calm your nerves is enough to make you begin to spiral. You’re already at your stress limit, and you’re not sure how much more you can take before you hit your breaking point.
Suddenly feeling a need to get back to your group - specifically to Ben - you rush out of the washroom.
The bright strobe lights and the loud music, compounded with the way your mind is already racing makes it hard to breathe. You’re completely disoriented as you look around the room, trying to remember where you’re going as you navigate the sea of people.
All the negative thoughts swimming around in your brain and the stress are heightening your senses, and you nearly lose your footing, having to grab onto a railing for stability.
“Y/N? What are you - are you alright?”
You’re calmed slightly by the familiar voice, managing to look up and meet eyes with Tom in the midst of your impending panic attack. He looks confused and a bit worried, obviously not understanding what’s wrong with you. You don’t really know what’s wrong with you in the moment either, just that you can’t breathe properly and you need Ben.
“Did something happen?” Tom asks again, still frantic.
“I-I can’t-“ you try to say, grabbing Tom’s arm for stability as you once again begin to falter. “Can you-I need-“
Tom says something quickly to Harvey, who you hadn’t even realized was there until just now. A moment later, Harvey is gone, and Tom is gently grabbing your shoulders and leading you away from the music and the crowd.
You don’t notice that he’s taking you outside until you feel the slightly cool air hit you, providing you with some relief and making it somewhat easier to breathe.
Tom leads you to a nearby bench and helps you sit down, and though he’s rubbing your back and trying to talk to you comfortingly, you don’t really register it.
“I need-can you get Ben?” you ask him once you’re able to get a few more words out, and Tom nods immediately.
“He’s coming, don’t worry,” he assures you. “Just try to breathe, he’ll be right here.”
You nod, shutting your eyes tightly to fight back the tears and trying to breathe as well as you can.
As promised, within a few moments you feel a pair of warm hands on yours and you open your eyes to see Ben kneeling in front of you, looking up at you with wide and terrified eyes.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asks you, looking from you to Tom, who is able to offer no explanation. “Are you hurt? Did someone-“
“No, no,” you manage to choke out, wanting to quell his fears before his mind can run too far. “I just-I was trying to find you and I couldn’t-there were so many people and I just-“
You know he still doesn’t fully understand what’s wrong, as you’ve never struggled much with crowds of people before. You’ve been to loads of parties and events together, you’ve supported him in stadiums of thousands of people, and it’s never been an issue. Nevertheless, when you begin to cry more freely, your body continuing to tremble, he quickly moves into the spot Tom has vacated for him and pulls you into his arms.
“Hey, sweetheart, it’s alright,” he murmurs into your hair as he holds you tightly, pulling you closer until you’re basically in his lap. “You found me, I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
You bury your face in his chest, your tears staining his white t-shirt as you cry. Although you can feel the panic in your chest lessening with every second in Ben’s presence, the full weight of all the stress and emotions of the last few months hits you like a freight train.
Ben continues to murmur soothing words to you, stroking your hair with one hand and rubbing your back with the other as your sobs gradually wane.
You manage to get your breathing under control, soaking up the comfort of his touch and the gentle words he’s whispering in your ear.
Eventually, you pull back from him, wiping your mascara-streaked cheeks. Ben is still looking at you with immense concern, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek.
“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”
You nod your head, grabbing his other hand and squeezing it tightly. You know you need to open up to him. This breakdown is proof that you can’t keep holding it in anymore.
“Okay, I’ll call an Uber,” he says with a quick kiss to your forehead.
“Actually, can we wait a few minutes? Maybe take a walk?” you ask. “I think I just need a bit more fresh air before getting in the car.”
“Of course, babe, let me just tell the boys-“
Before Ben can finish the thought, your friends reappear, having given you some privacy so Ben could comfort you. With a gentle smile, Harvey passes you a glass of water, which you gratefully take.
“You feeling better, Y/N?” Anish asks.
“Yeah, thanks, just got a bit overwhelmed in there,” you say, sipping the cold water. “Sorry, guys, didn’t mean to ruin the night like this.”
“Don’t be silly, you haven’t,” Tom insists. “We were just worried about you.”
You nod appreciatively, laying your head on Ben’s shoulder for a moment as you continue to come down from the panic attack, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your bare knee.
“You want me to call a car, Chilly?”
“Nah, thanks, mate,” Ben says. “We’re just gonna go for a walk and cool down a bit, you guys go on inside and we’ll see you back at the house.”
“Alright,” Harvey smiles, squeezing your shoulder gently. “Glad you’re okay. See you later.”
The boys all bid you goodbye and go back into the club, leaving you and Ben alone once more. He carefully helps you to your feet, and you lean on him even though you’re much steadier than you were before.
“Wanna go down to the beach?” Ben asks, gesturing toward a path that leads to the shimmering blue water.
You nod, taking his hand in yours and intertwining your fingers as he leads you down the path.
The beach is totally quiet at this time of night, a stark contrast from the loud and bustling club you just left, and you hold Ben’s arm for stability as you take off your heels to carry them. The feeling of the sand beneath your feet and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore helps to calm your senses.
You find a nice, secluded spot to sit and look out at the ocean. Before you can even complain of the slight chill, Ben removes his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.
“Thank you,” you whisper, reaching out to grab his hand again, needing to maintain physical contact with him.
“Of course,” Ben says, squeezing your hand. “Will you please tell me what’s going on now, babe? You’ve seemed a bit off since you got here, and last night on the phone. I’m worried about you.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you say. “I didn’t want to ruin your holiday with all this, I’ve just been struggling a bit lately. Work has gotten crazy stressful and so much stuff is piling up on me, it’s been making my anxiety a lot worse than it usually is. Tonight I just happened to check my work email in the toilets and I guess it triggered me, then the noise and the lights and everything were really overwhelming and I could tell I was about to have a panic attack. Luckily, Tom found me before it got too bad.”
Ben, who knows you’ve dealt with anxiety in the past and particularly in uni, just nods in understanding.
“You’ve been struggling these whole two weeks I’ve been gone?” he asks, visibly upset that you’re just telling him now.
It makes it even harder to tell him the full truth, but you know the point of this conversation is to be truly honest with him, even if it’s difficult.
“A few months, actually,” you confess. You see how his face falls completely, and you immediately elaborate. “I know I should’ve told you, but you’ve had such a tough year with the club and the World Cup and everything, I couldn’t bring myself to burden you with anything else.”
His eyes flash with a million different emotions, and for a moment you think he’s going to be mad at you, but he ends up just letting out a defeated sigh.
“You could never be a burden to me, Y/N,” Ben says firmly. “You’re everything to me. It doesn’t matter what I have going on, I need you to tell me if you’re going through something like this. Always.”
“I know, I will,” you reply, squeezing his hand again.
He takes your joined hands and brings them to his lips, pressing a kiss to each of your knuckles.
“I am so sorry I didn’t realize there was something going on earlier,” Ben says after a moment, shaking his head. “I feel like the world’s shittiest boyfriend.”
“Don’t apologize, baby, you’ve been going through a lot yourself,” you remind him.
“Yeah, but you’ve been there for me through all of it. Helping me when I was injured and talking me through every loss, week after week,” Ben sighs, the memories of the past season still fresh. “And I didn’t even know you were dealing with your own problems.”
“It’s alright, Ben, I promise,” you say with a small smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’ve been managing okay, just being with you helps a lot. It’s been hardest these couple weeks you’ve been away.”
“I’m so sorry, if I had known I would have-“
“I know, that’s why I didn’t say anything,” you tell him, your thumb stroking his sweet, concerned features. “You needed this holiday. I didn’t want you to be worrying about me.”
Ben wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple and lingering there.
“Baby,” he murmurs so softly that your heart melts. “I love you, but I need you to be honest with me from now on. It breaks my heart that you were going through this alone.”
You nod, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “I know.”
“And as for the holiday, I think you’re in need of one, too,” he continues, rubbing your back. “You should tell your boss you’re taking the next week off and come to Italy with me. We’ve got the yacht all week.”
There’s nothing that sounds as appealing to you right now as spending a week in paradise, soaking up the sun and enjoying uninterrupted time with Ben, but you don’t know how well it will go over if you tell your boss you’re taking a week off with almost zero notice.
“Ben, you know I want to, but-“
“Babe, you’ve been working yourself like crazy since you started there. You’re one of their best employees and they would be lost without you,” Ben reminds you. “Tell them you need a break. I’m sure your boss will understand, and if she doesn’t, then maybe you should tell them you’ll reevaluate whether you have a future there.”
You know he’s right, but you’re still nervous to give that ultimatum. You’ve hardly taken any vacation in the past year and you’re certainly overdue for it, but it doesn’t come naturally to you to make demands - even when it’s necessary.
“What if they let me go?”
“Then they would be bloody idiots,” Ben scoffs. “You deserve to work somewhere that lets you prioritize your mental health, love. And if that’s not this job, then quit and we’ll find you something else.”
“I can’t just quit my job, Ben,” you chuckle, fiddling with the too-long sleeves of his jacket you’re wearing.
“You can if it doesn’t make you happy,” he replies without a beat. “And please don’t say need a steady income, because you know I don’t give a shit if you ever work another day in your life.”
While you’re aware that most of Ben’s mates - at least the ones in football - don’t have girlfriends with traditional jobs such as yourself, you’ve always liked making your own money. It’s not that you harbour any judgement for those who don’t, but you think you would go stir-crazy if you spent all your time waiting at home for Ben.
“I appreciate the offer, babe, but I think I just need to find a better work-life balance,” you admit. “Maybe a week off isn’t such a bad idea. I can talk to my boss in the morning.”
Ben’s face lights up and he begins to press little kisses all over your face, making your heart soar.
“Perfect, I was dreading saying goodbye to you again,” he confesses. “I hate sleeping without you.”
“So do I,” you murmur, pressing your lips against his briefly, pulling apart when a thought occurs to you. “I don’t have enough clothes for a week.”
“You won’t need them,” Ben replies without missing a beat, making you laugh and shove his chest playfully. “Or we can go shopping. Whatever you want, love.”
You smile into Ben’s kiss and he deepens it quickly, his arm wrapping around you to tug you impossibly closer. You sigh happily, enjoying the serenity and intimacy of this moment.
When you pull back again, he gently cups your cheek and you lean into his warm palm, pressing a quick kiss there.
“Are you feeling better now?” he asks softly. “Do you want to go back to the house?”
“I am feeling better, but I just want to stay here a little longer if that’s alright.”
“Of course, baby,” Ben smiles, shifting slightly and opening his arms wide so you can lean back against him.
He positions you so you’re inbetween his legs, leaning against his chest, with his arms tightly wrapped around you and your hands clutching his.
You’re both silent for a whole, listening to the sound of the sea and enjoying each other’s touch after a long two weeks without it.
“Promise me one more time that you’ll tell me if you’re ever feeling this way again,” Ben murmurs into your hair after a few minutes. “Because seeing you like that is one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced. I was so worried.”
Your heart aches a bit as you realize what a sight you must’ve been for your poor worried boyfriend, sobbing incoherently outside the club.
“I promise, Ben,” you say with a squeeze of his hand. “I won’t keep anything from you again.”
“Okay,” he breathes, lips pressed to your head. “I love you so much. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this by yourself, but I’m really glad you’re here with me now.”
“I love you too,” you say, snuggling deeper into his arms. “And I’m also really glad I’m here.”
Ben continues to press kisses to your head as you stare out at the sea, the comfort of his touch washing over you like the waves lapping against the shore.
Although there will be more hurdles for both of you to face as you continue your respective careers, you know that as long as you have Ben and ensure that you communicate your feelings, everything will be fine.
And in the meantime, you get to spend a week on a yacht with your hot boyfriend. Life could be a lot worse.
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hotgirlgraps · 1 year
Text
Battered
Streetfighter!hook
Synopsis: Hook isn’t just a ring name in AEW but you figure that out when it’s too late to stop him
Warnings: depictions of blood and injury, angst, cursing, violence
A/N: I caught the O’Malley vs Sterling fight in the break room and just couldn’t stop thinking about hook as an underground streetfighter for some reason lmao (and yes I know the boxers aren’t streetfighters but this is just where my mind went)
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The low hood shadowed the thick, velvet scar crossing through the arch of his eyebrow, along with the puffed out lower left side of his lip that had an identical cut to match, but not as well as he intended.
“Where do these scars keep coming from?” You asked as you gently ran your thumb over one of the cuts.
“You know I’m a pro wrestler.” He muttered as he pulls his head away, trying to hide the wince from the pain that the slightest touch caused.
“You haven’t stepped in the ring in over a month, Tyler.” You deadpan, and he can practically feel your suspicions slicing through him, but he tries not to acknowledge that.
“I did some practice in the gym the other day and the dude got me.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll heal.”
But you didn’t believe him, and it wasn’t just due to the fresh scars that decorated his face either. Tyler was a horrible liar. He’d always been. He can never look you in the eyes when he fabricated the truth, which was exactly why he was staring down at his busted knuckles instead.
You took a moment to think, but you didn’t even need to. The truth was staring you right in the face and you were tired of pretending that it wasn’t.
“You’re streetfighting, aren’t you?”
You watched his shoulders immediately tense up, his teeth locking down behind his lips making his jaw bone throb. You rolled your eyes and looked away, unable to keep staring at those wounds on your boyfriend’s face.
“So when were you planning on telling me? After I have to see you in a hospital bed with a concussion? Or were you gonna just wait until you were in a coma and I had to find out for myself that you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long!”
“Stop.” He muttered, picking his head back up. “Just try to understand-“
“We talked about this so many times, Tyler! I told you exactly how I felt about you doing this! It’s dangerous! I’ve seen my dad get his skull cracked in half and you know that! Why do you want to do this shit?!”
“I love it.” He shrugs easily. “I love the thrill and the adrenaline. I love knocking bitch ass punks out cold. I love the hype. I was meant to do this, Y/N. I know I was.”
You felt your heart sink in your chest. Clearly seeing the passion bursting through those dark eyes when he told you what it means to him, but it kills you inside knowing that he’s chosen something so dangerous. Possibly deadly, and he doesn’t seem to give that any regard whatsoever.
“It’s not the way it was when your dad broke into it. It’s rough, but people aren’t built like they used to be. I haven’t gotten seriously hurt yet, and I’ve been doing this for-“ he pauses, dropping his eyes to the floor before he says, “about six months now.”
“Six months?!” You snapped, “are you fucking kidding me?!”
“Obviously im not.” He eyes you again. “I’m being dead serious because this is something I love. It’s a part of my life now, just like you are and I guess I’m just telling you so you’ll accept it, cause I’m not stopping anytime soon.”
You felt tears stinging your eyes but you forced them back. Tyler watched your eyes well up and had to advert his attention elsewhere so he didn’t have to see those tears slip down your cheeks.
“Look” he sighs, “I’ll bring you to one of my fights. You can see for yourself that you don’t have to worry about me. Nobody’s ever come close to knocking me out. Yeah I have a couple bruises and shit but that’s just how the shit goes. I hold my own out there and I dominate everyone that comes for me. I’m the last person you ever have to worry about.”
Well, that lead to you standing in the midst of a bunch of drunk, wild people in a rundown underground basement. You couldn’t help but to bite your nails down to the nub as you intensely watched two guys aggressively throwing still jabs to each other’s jaws.
It was already hard to breathe in the smoky haze but even worse when Tyler was announced. The crowd roared when he came out, fists taped up and wearing gear similar to what he wears in AEW, but he didn’t look like that Hook.
Everyone chanted his name, some people holding fifty and hundred dollar bills in the air as they bet on his win. You didn’t even realize he was such a crowd favorite, but that just cemented the fact that he’d been living this whole double life you knew nothing about for six months.
He stepped up and adjusted the tape wrapped tightly around his wrists to cover the tender flesh on his knuckles. The scars so deep that the second they make contact with anything, they’re pouring blood.
The man he was up against had a good three inches of height on him, but he had much more muscle mass than the man did. There was no intimidation on the surface. Hook appeared just as calm, cool and collected as he always did in AEW, but you quickly realized as soon as the first punch was thrown that this was completely different.
All you heard was hook chants and the sounds of knuckle crashing into bone. One stiff jab in particular caused Hook to stumble back, dazed a bit but all it did was piss him off, and then you realized just why everyone was betting on him.
Fury bursted out of him as he threw his fists straight into the eye sockets, the jaw and the teeth of his opponent. He was a quick shooter. His opponent tried to block the shots to the face so Hook strikes them to the ribs instead, landing an uppercut when his opponent folded over.
But as soon as you thought the fight was going to come to a quick end, hook’s opponent reared his shoulder into his gut and slammed him down to the floor. The impact of your boyfriend’s spine crashing against the concrete make your stomach churn. You felt nauseas, hands trembling as you watched him getting punched everywhere that was visible.
He was trapped beneath his opponent, his knees digging into Hook’s rib cage preventing him from breaking free and all he could do was block those deadly punches as best as he could.
The chants only got louder and louder and it gave him more momentum. The crowd, but especially knowing you were out there in it.
In a desperate attempt to gain some leverage, when the next punch was thrown, hook caught it with his left hand, his right hand connecting directly into the teeth of his opponent, cracking one right down the center.
Blood oozed from the man’s mouth, leaving droplets all over Hook’s chest. He quickly reversed the roles and rolled himself on top of his battered opponent, his knees digging into the shoulders to keep the man from having any defense. With the man trapped underneath, Hook’s fists flew at a deadly speed, pounding into the man’s face until there was blood pouring out of every crevice on his skin.
He wasn’t satisfied until his opponent was limp. One good stiff jab to the jaw button followed by three clocks to the bridge of the nose and his opponent’s eyes rolled back, his entire body giving up any source of fight he could’ve possibly mustered.
The crowd erupted in wild screams when hook got off of him. He wiped the smeared blood from his bottom lip with the back of his hand, tainting the white tape with crimson to match his opponent’s blood all over his body and the floor.
He raised both arms up, eliciting more screams from the crowd before he scanned his eyes all around that smoky room, finding you within seconds. You had mixed reactions and he could see that, but all he was worried about was making sure he showed you that this is what he’s best at. This is what he loves. This is what he wants.
He made his way towards you, red welts all over his chest and neck and tinges of blood everywhere you could see. He pushed through the people in front of you until he was standing inches apart, his bloody, slick hand cupping your cheek before he crashed his lips with yours.
He was so amped up and you could feel that in the kiss. The passionate force behind his lips colliding with yours left you breathless when he pulled back.
He dropped his hand from your cheek to your hip and noticed the blood smearing across your skin that he left there.
As if he was reading your mind, he pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around you, blood staining on your clothes but neither he or you cared. You hugged him back, holding onto him for dear life he felt like. Your body was still shaking and nerves still wracking around within you but you couldn’t deny the fact that he really did dominate out there, just like he said. And it was clear more than ever that this was something he loves. Something he wouldn’t give up.
“You’re a badass.” You mumbled into his slick chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. “But listen to me, Senerchia, cause I’m only gonna say this once. You better not die on me, or I’ll bring you back to life and kill you myself.”
He pulls back and looks down at you, his eyes wide and wild and hair even more so, but a slight smirk tipping up his lips distracted you from all that. All the blood smeared on his skin and the welts that were soon bruises. That smile out-shown all of it.
“Never gotta worry about that, baby. I’m never leaving you.”
He placed another kiss to your lips briefly, leaving the taste of salty sweat and metallic in your mouth before he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd, avoiding the people around trying to congratulate him and get him to sign things because all he was worried about was getting you home.
“Where are we going? I thought there were more fights? You don’t wanna stay and watch?”
“Nah” he smirks as the cold, New York air greets you both. “I got a lot of adrenaline pumping right now, im not wasting it.”
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boxofthings · 10 months
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bshsjsksk I've never written smut before so I hope this doesnt read as awkward lmao. (I kinda struggled halfway through so I'm sorry if the quality all of a sudden goes down the drain 🥲 i wrote this very late into the night)
Enjoy!
Read on AO3
NSFW below the cut!
---
The post-mission adrenaline crash hits them hard. As soon as the team had returned to base, a hushed scatter of dragging feet had set the tone of their night.
For Ghost, he's high-strung, left on edge from today's most recent failures. He thinks he can still hear gunfire in the background of the night, and if he closes his eyes and lets his mind wander, he sees the poignant look of fear as the person he reaches for is just a little bit too out of grasp, and their screams etch jagged scars into his brain. 
There's a tension in his bones that vibrates through his nerves, begging for reprieve, and he needs it gone—right now.
That's what makes him seek out the sergeant, finding him lounged against the corridor walls and hurriedly yanking the other into Ghost's quarters, pressing his body up against the door with rough hands and a stormy mind.
The sergeant doesn't protest, only reciprocates with the same ferocity as his lieutenant, filling the quiet with their two desperate breaths and lewd whispers.
"I need you," Ghost had groaned, face buried in the crook of Roach's neck, sinking deep reds onto marred but soft skin. Roach's breath had hitched, and the fingers latched tightly onto the lieutenant had only dug deeper. 
It was all the confirmation Ghost needed before he begins stripping the younger out of his gear. Fast and desperate, like two teenagers at risk of getting caught by their parents, and technically, that wasn't too far from the truth.
His hands move mechanically, and there's a despondency that begins to fizzle into his head as he unclasps each and every clip on Roach's armour till he's just in his standard shirt and pants. There's a heavy cloud over his head that pushes him into that ugly, uncaring side of himself—the part of him that tries to make all the good things in his life meaningless, detached. 
He feels the roughness behind his actions as his hands roam free over the sergeant's body. He feels like he's in a trance, familiar and lifeless, as his mind only chases for the ultimate pleasure that only serves to temporarily halt his turmoil. 
This means nothing, he tells himself.
He expects the same in return—secretly begs for it in his mind so that this can all be just another vapid memory added to the list of casual hook-ups. But when Roach goes to take off his clothing, it's slow and gentle, unlike Ghost's brazen want. Roach moves like they have all the time in the world like this means something—represents more than what their activity depicts on the surface level. And Ghost—he feels disquieted. 
The sergeant is methodical when he takes off Ghost's vest, pausing every so often to look at him and smile. Ghost's heart stutters and the greys in his head recede just a little more.
When it's just his undershirt and pants left, Roach gives him a soft push backwards, seating him down on the edge of his bed.
Ghost's eyes never leave Roach, watching closely like a hawk as the other climbs atop him and firmly grasps his chin, tilting it upwards.
"You think too much," he signs lightly. And before Ghost can respond, confident lips meet his own unprepared ones, and his disordered mind goes quiet.
With his balaclava rolled up to his nose, Roach holds the sides of his face as they kiss like longtime lovers, and there's a fierce burn in his chest that ignites hotter the longer they're connected.
When Roach pulls away, Ghost chases after him, high on the feel of the other's touch. His hands come up to encircle Roach's waist, keeping him firmly close and fervid against himself.
The sergeant's hands come to hold his face again, except instead of leaning in, he stares. His piercing green strikes Ghost immobile, but he recognizes what that look on the other's face means—he's picking him apart, trying to gauge what's going on in Ghost's head.
Ghost tries to avert his gaze, doing so by surging up, trying to capture Roach's lips once again, but Roach sees the action for what it is and pulls away, keeping his hold strong on Ghost. It forces him to look directly at the other.
"Are you ok?" he whispers, and it's soft—so gentle that a hard wall inside of him cracks just a little. Roach's face conveys one of searching concern, and Ghost feels pinned, flayed open at the mercy of those eyes.
He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head stiffly as his hands dig deeper into Roach's hips.
"I just-" he croaks, "I just need you."
Roach's eyes narrow, and Ghost lets a sliver of vulnerability slip through the cracks—just a tiny push. "Please," he whispers, and he can see in real-time how Roach's expression falls, a sad smile pulling meekly onto his mouth, and he nods.
Ghost kisses him—hard. This is familiar. If he's in control, he can't let those lingering terrors plague his thoughts. The sooner he can get this going, the sooner he can distract himself. He thrusts up into Roach, feeling the heat of the other on top of him, and the younger groans into the kiss as the two grind against each other, needy and fervent.
Hands push down squarely on his chest until he's forced to lay back. When he looks forward to Roach, the other smiles warmly and begins to work at his zipper. 
"Let me take care of you." 
And it takes everything in Ghost not to crumble at those words.
Roach palms at his erection, still confined in his boxers, and Ghost wants to kick him.
"Stop teasing."
He's met with a cheeky grin. "Stop teasing?" the other signs demurely. "You mean like this?" 
A warm hand suddenly grasps his length, and Ghost's breath hitches, making the humour in Roach's gaze grow.
"Oh, piss off you-"
The hand tightens, stroking confidently up and down, melting the words on Ghost's tongue immediately. 
Bastard.
It's been a while since they've done this. Missions have become more frequent and dire as the war rages on, and Ghost hasn't gotten a chance to get laid—to expel the stress.
He wants to say that's the reason why his stomach swoops so violently as the sergeant slowly takes him into his mouth, gaze never leaving Ghost's as he swallows him deeper.
God, he can't deny it; Roach knows how to take him apart. His eyes make Ghost feel like pinned-down prey as he sensually swirls his tongue around the tip.
His hand reaches to grasp at Roach's hair, keeping the sergeant in place, but Roach only dips lower, expertly sucking him off at a rhythmic pace that punches deep groans out of Ghost.
He bucks his hips upwards as Roach meets him halfway, setting an exhilarating pace that forces Ghost to concentrate on not finishing right into the sergeant's mouth. He wants this night to last.
He pulls Roach off his cock, leaving a string of saliva that Ghost immediately swipes across the other's lips. It makes the heat inside of him grow.
"Get on the bed."
Roach wastes zero time obeying, laying across the same spot that Ghost had previously occupied.
Shedding his cargos, he grabs the lube on the bedside table, fully seating himself between Roach's now bare legs as he drenches his fingers.
As he circles Roach's entrance, he leans forward, waiting for the exact moment the other's mouth hangs open as his finger breaches into heat, capturing lips in a hungry kiss, and Roach leans into it enthusiastically. 
He adds another digit, awaiting for the stuttered breathing that will follow, and he curls his fingers, watching closely as Roach's back arches off the bed like a puppet.
The other scoffs, locks of hair falling in front of his eyes. Ghost wants to brush them away.
"Now, who's teasing."
A smile pulls at his face as he adds a third, and he revels in knowing that he's the one wringing those noises, those expressions out of Roach—revels in knowing he's the only one who knows how to make the other feel this good.
When Ghost pulls out, moving to lube himself up, Roach's hands come to press on his shoulders, a leg coming up to hook around his middle, effectively flipping their positions in a swift and practiced maneuver.
With Roach on top, he can see the smugness that paints his features, a nimble hand caressing up his torso to sit at his chest.
"I said I'd take care of you," Roach leans down to whisper low in his ear before Ghost can protest, and a shiver runs down his spine, pooling arousal at the base of his cock.
The sergeant takes him in hand and, just like before, never moves his sights from the lieutenant's face as he guides the head of his cock to his entrance, sinking slowly down until Ghost is fully sheathed inside of him.
Their combined groans mingle together into heavy breaths. 
Ghost's hands climb to grip hard at Roach's hips. A choked moan threatens to spill once the sergeant begins moving, his heat all-encapsulating and enticing.
He sits up so he can better hold Roach in his lap, roaming hands gripping tight on the back of the sergeant's shirt. He pushes his hips upwards, setting a brutal pace and eliciting a series of gasps that only encourage him to move faster.
He wants to lose himself in this. Be buried inside this warmth forever, anything to take him away from the battles he'll be thrown back into once he leaves this room.
He scrunches his eyes shut, trying to focus only on the building pressure below. But despite his efforts, the storm cloud slowly creeps back into the cracks of his brain, along with the distant screams that follow with it. Eyes too young to display such fear watch him from the depths of his mind, and suddenly, Ghost can't get it out.
Two taps to his shoulder.
His eyes fling open, thrusts halting immediately. 
The concern is back, more intense than before.
"What's wrong?"
Ghost inhales, taking in how genuinely worried the sergeant looks—how quickly he had noticed Ghost's inner turmoil.
"I-" he swallows, words weighing like bricks in his throat.
He doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to even spare a grain of space in his mind for images that will spiral him deep into disruption. It's why he'd even sought out the sergeant in the first place. This was just supposed to be another meaningless fuck.
But a part of him knew it wasn't going to be so easy, not with Roach. Not with someone who takes one glance at him, mask and all, and immediately knows which weak points to aim for to leave him an exposed, vulnerable mess.
He supposes he should've known this would happen—wonders if, deep in his subconscious, he had hoped for something more to come out of this.
Fingers gently grasp his hand, lifting it slowly, hesitantly, as if Ghost would run at the slightest hint of comfort.
Soft lips come to kiss at his knuckles, one by one, and it's so—kind. The contrast between Roach's lips and the scars that run down Ghost's hand feels undeserving, like such good things are ought to be for people like him.
"When people grow up in ugly homes, they can only assume everything in the world is ugly, including themselves."
It was something Roach had said to him offhandedly after a particular deployment. Although back then, Ghost hadn't understood where it came from. 
He'd thought it had something to do with the mission they had just returned from. One that—similarly to today's—had left the task force a shaken crowd of solemn faces.
He remembers it clear as day. He and Roach had been the first at the scene, gazing upon the aftermath of what could only be described as a brutal execution—one that left an innocent family limp at their feet, like bloody ragdolls.
The sole survivor, a boy no older than twelve, had sat at the centre of it all, looking no more alive than the ashen bodies surrounding his small frame.
It was a disturbingly familiar sight, and Ghost had left that mission quieter than usual.
Now, though, he thinks he knows why Roach had said it. It's for the same reason why Ghost was thinking of such a phrase at a time like this—for comfort, reassurance.
Roach had recognized then how that mission had messed with Ghost's head, just as he recognized how today's mission had messed with him further.
Ghost takes a deep breath, calming the violent sea in his mind. 
"Sorry," he breathes out, looking Roach square in the eyes with what he hopes is a genuine, small smile. "Just all up in my head."
Roach's thumb swipes back and forth at the palm of Ghost's hand—a grounding sensation despite how miniscule it is. A small smile reflects back on his face, a wisp of a concession.
We'll talk about this after.
Ghost rolls them over so that Roach is now under him. By the look of exasperation, the other had probably been expecting this. 
"This is a two-way tango, bug. Let me return the favour."
There's enthusiasm in the arms that drape around his neck, and Ghost begins to pick up where they left off.
With Roach laid under him, Ghost's fingers crawl up his stomach to lift off the other's shirt, exposing him fully to the lieutenant. In response, Roach tugs at Ghost's own shirt, a challenging glint in his eye that Ghost readily accepts, leaving the two fully bare for each other.
Ghost is gentler this time when he pushes back in, making sure not to be as rough as he was before. Roach takes him in easily, whining softly as Ghost's hips snap to hit that sweet spot. It shouldn't affect him how well they fit together, and not just in bed, but in a warzone, too.
He tries not to let his thoughts wander again, and instead, thinks of Roach—Roach and how he's splayed underneath him, how his touches feel like they burn the skin off his flesh, how even without a voice, his words stick in Ghost's mind like unwilling tattoos.
-- -- --
"You think all these terrible things that have happened to you define who you are. They don't."
"How do you know?"
"Because I know you."
In the haze of pleasurable bliss, a thought weighs sudden and heart-stuttering. 
I love him.
He loves him.
And it's more than just the sex. It's the way those brown curls splay out on the bed like a halo—the same curls he'd run his fingers through countless times during leisure hours. It's the kiss-swollen lips that smile warmly at him every morning at breakfast. It's the strong arms currently wrapped around his neck that aid him in battle with their assured grip and expertise and the fingers that softly grasp Ghost's own when they have fleeting moments of tenderness on the battlefield. It's the way that when Ghost looks at the man before him, there's a part of him deep down that knows what this is, a part of him that thinks of green eyes and gentle smiles, and he wants.
He stares down at Roach, beautiful and wrecked and gazes at the scars that embroider his person. Ghost traces his fingers softly on the large gash decorating the left hip. An ugly knife wound, he remembers. He helped stitch that one. The mark beside that one—a bullet not fully penetrated, but Ghost had been there when the shot had hit its mark, and it had terrified him at that moment.
The arms around him release, and then hands come to rest delicately on his face. Green eyes watch him, glassy from their intimate activity but strong in their tender gaze.
This is so much different than his usual hook-ups—the rough, quick-fucks he'd indulge himself in over the years as a way of forcing out the accumulative tension from his stressful lifestyle. But when he's with Roach, it's gentle, it's slow, and, dare he say it, loving. Ghost can't help himself as his hips slow to a stop, and his eyes move towards Roach's face.
His hand grabs recklessly at his mask, pulling it off with a haste he hasn't felt in a long time.
Roach's eyes widen. His partner's desperate pants have halted as well, and he looks straight up at Ghost, gaze shocked with an underlayer of hope.
"I love you."
Ghost feels nervous in his own skin, uncharted emotion rubbing hotly inside his chest, foreign and wild. But Gary inches his face closer, and immediately, those biting fears dissipate, leaving his mind completely once Gary pulls their lips together in a tender kiss. 
It's the sweetest he's ever had. Completely unlike the past frustratingly-charged snogs he'd shared with past willing fucks.
When they break apart, Gary looks high, pupils blown wide, and lips a swollen red. Ghost suspects he doesn't look much different. 
"I love you, Simon," he whispers, awed.
And the sharp zing of warmth shoots straight down to his groin, where they're still connected, and he groans. 
The legs wrapped around his middle squeeze tighter, and Ghost understands, picking up where he left off and speeding up his pace once more.
Roach's head falls back, eyes squeezed shut as Ghost drives them closer to the edge. 
His heart stutters as he watches Roach closely. He wants this, he wants more, he wants—
A hand on his heart.
"You think too much."
Ghost exhales, watching Roach closely, watching every minute change in expression. He notices how his breathing hitches when Ghost hits that sweet spot, notices how the other likes it when Ghost strokes his hair, notices how his nose scrunches up when he's concentrating on something hard. 
It's not just sex. He knows all the little details about Roach without even having to look. Like when the other taps his pencil on his right thigh but only on the right, like when Roach drinks hot tea and always blows twice before taking a sip, like how there are calluses on his index and middle finger on his dominant hand from writing in his journal, and one on his left index from handling his gun.
I'm thinking about you.
But Ghost doesn't say it out loud; only aims to show what his mind yearns to spill.
He intertwines his hand with Roach's and kisses him feverishly as his hips pull sweet gasps out of Roach's mouth.
He's getting close. Ghost can feel it as Roach clenches tighter around him, and it takes everything in him not to let go right now.
No, he wants to watch Roach spill over the edge first; wants to watch the other fall into the pleasurable bliss brought by Ghost's own doing.
"Come for me, bug," he whispers lowly, and he knows that's all it'll take.
There's a final, strangled whimper before the other spasms and arches beneath him, eyes rolling back as he rides through his orgasm, shaky breaths filling the silence of the room. Ghost drinks in every bit of the sight before him, fuelling his own chase towards the end.
A hand roams his face. The affection on Roach's face is so overwhelming it gives him butterflies.
"Beautiful," Roach mouths.
And Ghost groans as his own orgasm overtakes him, unloading into Roach. Their collective moans are cut short when Roach goes in for one more kiss as Ghost basks in the aftermath of his climax.
This could have never been a casual hook-up, not with Roach. Even with all the past times they've done this, it'd only served to make Ghost hungrier each time for something more. 
It was just unfortunate a mental spiral was what pushed him to spit it out.
Now, as the two of them lay together in bed, Roach softly carding fingers through Ghost's hair, he can only think of what a fool he was for assuming he could prolong those hidden desires in his chest. 
"Do you want to talk about it?"
They'd hastily cleaned up the mess they'd made and thrown on simple clothes, with Roach borrowing one of Ghost's shirts.
It feels oddly domestic, and despite his earlier confession, Ghost can't help but feel scared. 
"Sorry," he swallows, "if I hurt you earlier."
He's deflecting—just a little bit. He knows they have to talk about it, but he wants to sit inside this safe threshold just a little longer.
Beside him, Roach shakes his head.
"You didn't hurt me," he reassures, letting a minute grin slip through, "it's not like you haven't been rougher in the past."
Ghost huffs, his own lips betraying amusement, but he averts Roach's eyes and looks to the ceiling.
He can't keep holding it all in; feels like he at least owes it to Roach—attentive and caring, Roach—what was bothering him.
"It was the girl."
It's not a question, so Roach must've been sure that was it. 
As usual, he was right.
"I was so close." He was. He was right there at the edge of the window. If he'd just been a little quicker–
"It's not your fault, Simon."
He can't help but sigh. He knows that. But there's a part of him, the irrational shadow of himself that looks suspiciously like a little boy, curses him for his incompetence. 
And it's not just the blame; it's the principle of his role as a soldier. If he can't save one little girl, what good is he? 
To serve and protect. If he can't even do that for a stranger, how does he expect to do it for the people he cares about?
In the dim light, he can just make out the grim line of Roach's mouth.
There's nothing the other can really say to make this all better. Regardless of everything, Ghost’s mind will always remain a wasteland of accusatory what-ifs. But-
"I...I meant what I said, though. Earlier."
And even with the sombre fog set over his mind, Roach's smile still manages to make it all just a little more bearable.
"Me, too."
He's scared. There's another reason why his failure today hit him so viscerally. When he stares back at Roach, he feels the phantom fear that imprints like a shadow behind his eyelids, with green eyes that fall into an abyss Ghost isn't fast enough to reach for.
It could be him one day that you don't catch, his ugly thoughts say.
But before he can further fuel those anxieties, Roach pulls him close, resting Ghost's head under his chin.
"You think too much," he mutters, running his fingers through Ghost's hair.
Ghost sighs, closing his eyes and leaning further into the embrace. He feels—safe.
Trust Roach to soften the blows of everything horrible in his life. 
There are more things to say, more things they need to establish with this newfound step in their relationship, more fears that Ghost needs to acknowledge head-on.
But for now, he's happy to stay like this, in the arms of someone he knows he can trust.
Tomorrow, they’ll leave the safety of this room and be thrown back into the uncertainty of their fragile lives; however, the other side of his door no longer feels so daunting, not when he has this.
As his mind drifts slowly away into the lulling arms of sleep, he feels Roach hold him tighter.
"One day," Roach begins to whisper, and it's soft—wishful-sounding, "I hope you'll be able to accept that you're more than just your shortcomings, like how I see you."
For the first of many nights, his mind is at peace.
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