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#and he needed to take a break midway through
angeart · 4 months
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[To the Rest of Our Lives Together, Unafraid]
absently, he fidgets with the ring freshly on his finger, as scar's jaunty whistling reaches him.
they're married now.
really, truly married. for life.
for lives. because they're going to have multiple. they're going to have an endless number of them, all of them shared, bound and meant to be together.
--- Scar here
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luna0713hunter · 3 months
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Lover,Please stay
CEO!Sukuna is a big shot,every women and men's dream. Sometimes you wonder why he settled for someone like you.
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The wine tastes bitter on your tongue as you take your first sip; wincing slightly. You've never been a fan of drinking,but when your rich boyfriend invites you out for some, who're you to say no? So you suck it up,and try to swing the drink around your glass instead of actually drinking it.
And it doesn't help that the liquor is bringing out all your doubts you've been having recently.
Instead,you try to focus on the man beside you; Sukuna is busy downing his third whiskey cause he's an absolute freak when it comes to drinking. His pink hair is out of its usually neat shape, probably because of the rough day he had at work; and you watch with careful eyes as he reaches his nibble fingers toward his tie and loses it while he throws back the last of his drink.
"you're staring."
You hum absentmindedly; hating how lightweight you are unlike your boyfriend. You've barely had a few sips for god's sake.
"and what if i am?"
But now, you're staring at the reddish liquid in your glass; your thoughts running wild in your mind. Because even if you want to; even if you desperately wish to, you cant ignore the whispers and giggles you hear from the tables near you. You cant pretend to not see the lustful gazes of the women all around you as soon as your boyfriend had stepped inside the bar.
And you surely cant not hear them giggling among themselves with nothing but vemon in their tone.
"oh my gosh,look at that hottie!!"
"hold on- is that...his partner?!"
"that cant be- i mean- look at HIM!"
"i know right?maybe he's just doing it out of pity or something?"
And you dont know if its the alcohol, or you own mind, but suddenly the bar feels too suffocating.
Too crowded. Too loud.
And its not really your fault; you've been having a shitty week, and you just wished to spend some quality time with you boyfriend. You didn't want to spend your Saturday night in a shitty bar,with some rich ass girls talking shit about you and your relationship.
And its the last straw when you hear their next words.
"oh screw it; I'm gonna hit on him! I'm sure he'd bored out his mind and need a break from his lame ass partner!"
"obviously they're not doing well; they haven't talked much since they walked in!"
So without a word,you suddenly stand up from your sit; slamming you glass hard on the wooden surface of the bar. Sukuna immediately looks your way, lips parting to say something, but you dont wait to hear what it is.
You just grab your purse and rush out of the door, almost stumbling to tables on your way out.
You think they might be laughing at you, but honestly you dont care. You just need some fresh air to cool your head.
And to stop the tears from falling on your burning cheeks.
You turn sharply in the alley just next to the bar; pressing your back to the cold wall behind as you slide down on the ground below. You hug your knees close to your chest as the first sob breaks through your lips.
God,you hate crying; specially because of what others say.
And you know; you know Sukuna's way out of your league. You know a hotshot like him can have anyone he wants,yet he settles for someone like you. You know all this, but that doesn't make it easier to hear it from others.
When you hear heavy footsteps inside the alley,you immensely start to brush your cheeks and eyes harshly; but your hands are immediately stopped midway by a pair of rough ones grabbing onto your wrists.
When you look up through teary eyes,Sukuna sighs at the sight of your red rimmed eyes and blushed cheeks.
"you're such a lightweight. How much did you even drink?"
"it's not because of the drink," you mumble, pulling at your hands to which Sukuna doesn't let you, "i didnt even finish my wine."
"then why are you crying,huh?" He sighs again, raising rough fingers to brush your tears away with such care that has you tearing up again. Sukuna 'tsks' and wipes your cheeks once more, ”tell me what's wrong."
You bury your face in your knees to avoid looking at him.
"you must've heard what those women said,Ryo. Dont play dumb."
"so what?"
You snap you head up.
"so what?! doesn't that bother you??"
Sukuna scoffs, shifting slightly. His dark eyes shine even in the barely lit alleyway,and you swallow upon seeing the look on his face.
He looks utterly pissed.
"why the fuck would it bother me what a bunch of good for nothing losers say?" He hold your chin and lowers his face until you can feel the his hot breath on your lips, "nothing in this world matters. Nothing. Except you,me,and us."
When your eyes water again,Sukuna sighs presses his forehead against yours.
"the world's gonna talk shit anyways; whether we like it or not. And i dont give a shit what other's think, because nothing will change the fact that i love you."
When you look up at him with wide, bleary eyes,Sukuna scoffs and pinches your cheek rather roughly.
"dont give me that look; I've said it before."
"Well!" You grumbled through pinched cheek, "you dont say it enough!"
An evil smirk makes way on his pink lips,and your face heats up when his fingers dance across your hips.
"then," you shiver as he pushes at the hem of your dress; taking hold on your upper thigh with a dangerous glint in his eyes, "guess I'll have to show it to you, don't you think doll?"
Your eyes flutter close when he finally presses his lips to yours; and right there and then,you know Sukuna never lies about loving you. After all, he's been always a man to show his love through his actions rather than words.
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milkteahood · 6 months
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together through it all
Simon Riley x fem!reader
Summary: being there for Simon during one of his many night terrors
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“No! No! Fuck no! Please… please not her. DON’T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME”
Sweat broke on Simon’s forehead as he jolted awake, gasping for air. Stumbling, almost as if running from something, he made it to the bathroom where he threw himself over the toilet, puking his guts out. His whole body was breaking in cold sweat, shaking, with a blurry vision.
He didn’t hear you come in and almost attacked you when you placed a hand on him. He stopped midway, eyes bloodshot, his body only shaking harder when he realized it was only you.
“Si? Baby, it’s ok” your soft voice echoed in his mind, hand running up and down his back as he started vomiting again.
It wasn’t the first time this happened. Simon had severe ptsd, and this reaction was nothing new. He tried to warn you, saying you wouldn’t be happy with him. To go find someone that can actually love you normally. But he didn’t get to decide for you. And over time you got better and better at helping him when needed.
“You’re ok Si” you spoke gently, using a towel to wipe the sweat off his face.
He didn’t respond, but when he finally looked up at you, his face was incredibly pale. His lips were losing color too, and his eyes were a little glossy. This panic attack was one of the worst you’d seen him have.
Your hands cupped his face, and without even realizing it, he leaned into your touch, almost to see if you were actually real.
“You’re ok now” you said. Again, he didn’t respond. His breathing was heavy, and he closed his eyes, leaning more into your touch.
You held him for a while, giving him time to relax. His head almost fell onto your chest and strong arms wrapped themselves around you. There was something different about all of it. The way he held you, as if he was almost afraid you would vanish into thin air.
“Do you feel alright enough to walk?” you asked, arms wrapped around his neck, holding his head close to your chest. He only nodded in response.
As you stood up, you gently helped him up too, using your body to support his.
Once you made it to the bedroom, he collapsed on the bed, but still refused to let go of you.
He didn’t speak, his body still slowly shaking as he buried his face deeper into your chest, taking in your scent, trying to convince himself you’re actually real. He’s not hallucinating. You’re indeed there, trying to wrap a blanket around him as he refuses to let you move.
Once the blanket was over both of you, you resumed your gentle touches, fingers running through his hair as his breathing was slowing. Your fingers worked like magic on him. Your patience, something he never saw himself worthy of. All the times he yelled at you during one of his episodes. And even now, he was about to attack you. He didn't understand why someone like you would put up with someone like him. He didn't deserve you, he was sure of that. But he will be damned before he lets anyone take you away from him.
“You’re ok now” you said again, kissing the top of his head “it’s just us here” you continued, nose nuzzling his hair.
He nodded, closing his eyes.
You only closed yours once you heard the soft snoring coming out of your lover’s mouth.
“I love you, Si” you said, earning yourself a little snore in return, which made you chuckle.
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buckyalpine · 10 months
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Fluff, domestic cuteness, more fluff, I know it’s not everyone’s thing but pleaseee hear me out; just imagine beeeefy paramedic Bucky taking care of you when you’re in labor. You’re ex decided to leave halfway, realizing he wasn’t ready to be a father when you were already midway through your pregnancy, not that he was much help in the first place. You managed all on your own, ready to bring your little baby into the world all by yourself which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.
You were so close to your due date, ready to pop at any moment but your cravings for a donut didn't cease so you waddled down to the corner coffee shop in hopes of getting something with double chocolate.
Everything was fine until another customer bumped into you, sending you tumbling to the floor. A sudden sharp searin pain began to radiate through the lower half of your belly making you cry out in pain and it didn't take long for a crowd to form, the number of shouting voices and concerned faces adding to your growing anxiety. Al elderly woman held you hand while you tried to hold back tears; you couldn't get up, still laying on the floor when the faint sound of an ambulance grew louder.
A firm voice cleared the path, 2 large men walking towards you, ushering the crowd away from you first. The one with brunette hair crouches over to you, giving you a comforting smile before asking you a few quick basic questions, all while neatly looking over you for any signs of a major injury.
“Up you go, mama” he lifted you up with 0 effort, carrying you carefully in his thick arms, laying you down gently onto the stretcher. A sudden contraction rips through you causing you to panic more while your on your way to the hospital but he takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.
"Hey, its okay, look at me doll, focus on me alright?" He continue to hold your hand while monitoring your heart rate and vitals, timing your contractions since they're happening closer and closer together. "I know it won't make the pain go away but how about I try and distract you, hm? My names James but you can call me Bucky" He threw you a wink while you tried your best to focus on the feel of his hand, calloused palms from lifting, yet soft and warm. You focused on his baby blue eyes and scruffy beard and sweet pink lips that curve into a half smile; no doubt he was a shy charmer.
As soon as the ambulance stops, you're whisked away to the delivery ward, poked and prodded by doctors again. None of this was part of the plan and the pain was getting worse.
"How's she doing" Bucky came by the ward on his break, curious about the sweet thing he helped earlier in the day; surely you had a partner of some sort but he couldn't help himself nonetheless. The doctor directed him to your room, his heart breaking seeing your tear streaked, terrified face.
"Everything alright, mama?" He knew you were scared, hell, he was scared himself just thinking about the situation. He rested his hand on top of yours, careful not to touch anywhere near needles. You'd been at this hospital for 2 hours already and you were still alone without another visitor in sight. "Is uh-anyone-do you want me to call anyone-
You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep it from trembling, gripping onto him tighter. The pain was becoming unbearable, alerting the doctor and nurse to check on you again.
"She's gonna have to start pushing" You overheard the nurse as she spoke to the doctor, your heartrate racing more. Your panic stricken face wasn't missed by Bucky, still planted in his seat as if he had any business being there. He debated on if you felt comfortable with him there, ready to go or stay, whatever you needed.
"Doll, it's almost time, I can leave-
"Please-please don't go" You shakily cling onto his hand, now frozen in fear when you realize the moment is coming. The baby is almost here and you're alone. There's no one here to support you, no one here to-
"M'not going anywhere, I'm here, you're doin' great" Bucky let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you wanted, coaching you through your breathing while you were prepared to have the baby. "C'mon, push mama, you can do it, almost there"
You were in tears, sweating, crying, and Bucky couldn't help but find you beautiful. Not that he'd say that right then and there but there was something so raw and powerful in that moment, seeing you give yourself to bring in another life. He watched in awe as you fought with your body to push a human out of you.
"One more, just one more and your little one is here, you can do it doll, one last big push" He dabbed your forehead with a cool cloth, comforting you until you let out a final gasp, tiny screams filling the room. You fall back against the bed panting and he still holds your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles while giving you a proud smile.
"You did it, you did amazing mama"
-
After your baby boy is born, you still occasionally visit the hospital for checkups. You can't help the way your cheeks heat up every time you see Bucky, giving him a shy smile, lingering to talk to him longer than necessary every time you see him. You insisted on buying him and the rest of the paramedic crew coffee and donuts for helping you safely deliver your baby boy. Bucky blushes when you give him an extra donuts as a special thank you.
Each time he sees you, he likes you even more but he doesn't want to push his luck. Not when you're probably still trying to figure things out. Initially he's a little unsure, wanting to give you some space. He's also careful not to overstep any boundaries, making sure he's respectful.
Eventually he can't help himself.
He has to ask you out.
And he does.
3 years and a wedding later
You giggle watching your husband and son both press their heads against your swollen belly, whispering secrets to the little one growing inside as if you couldn't see them.
"Daddy, can she hear us?" Daniel asks with wide eyes, his little hands trying to feel the places where his baby sister was kicking.
"She can hear you baby, let her know you're gonna be her big brother" Bucky chuckled while Daniel continued to talk to your belly like he did every night ever since you found out you were pregnant.
"I can't wait to meet you" He hugs your tummy before crawling into Bucky's arms, ready to go to bed. Bucky takes him to his room, laying him down and tucking him in, pressing a kiss to his head before turning off the lights.
"Sleep tight little man"
"Night, daddy"
-
Your second pregnancy is nothing like your fist. Bucky is there by your side for every second of it. He takes time off work, cradling your belly so you don't have back pain. He reads up on books to take care of your cravings. He worships your changing body.
"Look at you, Mrs. Barnes" Bucky cooed, loving the way you filled out his Henley, your little belly stretching it while you pouted at him.
"I'm huge Bucky" you whined while he grinned, rubbing your tummy.
"S'cause you're carrying my baby, mama" He kissed your head, his large form scooping you up for some midday cuddles. He holds your close to his chest, excited over his growing family. You smile against his chest, closing your eyes while he rubs your back.
You're so happy you decided you wanted a donut.
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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Love you writing, though i don't have a favorite Alfred's boy is in my current list to reread. I had an idea that i saw about Dick and his taste in partners and Jazz fits the type competent red heads. Anyway my prompt is Dick gathering his exes (Wally, Babs, and Kori) to meet help him woo his current crush Jazz Fenton. From there it could btanch off many different ways like Jazz showing off Wack Fenton shenanigans or maybe like midway he sees one of his brothers making more progress with their crush on Danny. Or adding a twist of a deaged Dani or Danny.
"Don't make it obvious, but she just walked in," Dick whispers to his friends. However, Babs is the only one who actually listens since both Wally and Kori nearly break their necks by how fast they turn around.
A woman with long, fiery hair walks in with an adorable pair of five-year-old twins. She again carries the books the teens had borrowed and makes a beeline for the return box.
Like clockwork, once the books are returned to the metal box, the twins tug her toward the astronomy section, babbling about star facts in perfect sync.
Her hair bounces with each step, swinging behind her like a waterfall made of sunsets.
It was her long smooth hair that had first captured Dick's attention (he has a type sue him) when the small family had first started appearing at Gotham's public library. He had been bringing Babs some lunch that day, hidden behind the counter so Babs' boss wouldn't see him, and had been in prime position to watch one of the twins flout up to reach a book on the top shelf.
He was intrigued by the boy's apparent meta abilities, but what really surprised him was how easily he used his powers. Maybe it was due to his young age or how the woman didn't discourage his powers.
She reminded him to use "Indoor flying" in the same tone he heard parents tell their kids to use their "indoor voice". Metas weren't as rare as people wanted them to be but to see someone so casual about them was.
It was honestly uplifting to see a family so open about it. The little girl with her also seems to be a meta, for not even minutes later, she phases through an aisle instead of walking around, and the woman doesn't even bat an eye.
She only sticks her hand out the aisle to tell the little girl to not walk away from the science fiction section.
Dick hadn't been able to take his eyes off her, even when she made the little girl blow her nose using tissue from her purse or when she had started lecturing the children for running around in a foreign language.
Since then, he has returned to visit Babs every Thursday at two. The woman would bring the twins every week at the same time and even thought Dick had attempted to walk over to her, it seemed as if the universe it self got in the way.
She would get a call. The kids would need the bathroom. She began reading to the children, or they would rush in and out. He didn't want to come off as creepy, so he didn't follow her around, only watching her when she wandered back into sight.
To avoid being a creep, he also refrained from asking Babs any information about her. He wanted to introduce himself to the Libary goddess himself.
He found himself daydreaming of her. Fantastic conversations and dates. Could even picture introducing her to Bruce and the others. It wasn't long before he let it slip about his fast-developing crush to his friends- and exes- who were excited to see the first civilian he's ever been interested in.
Walley and Kori had strong-armed him into bringing them along this week, insisting they could help him speak to her. It's not that Dick couldn't. It's been so long since he genuinely wanted to flirt with a civilian.
He long ago mastered the art of flirting, but it was to make a watered-down version of Brucie Wayne. It was nothing but a mask to keep his second life a secret. He was worried he had gotten too used to dating heroes and would scare her off before they could really be something.
"I said don't make it obvious!" He hisses as Babs chuckles. She is typing away on her laptop, not bothering to raise her eyes as she waves her hand.
"Relax, they aren't even looking at us."
"She's gorgeous!" Kori gasps.
"She's a redhead," Wally observes with a smirk. "Why am I not surprised? Who are the little ones?"
"Her younger siblings," Babs answers, surprising Dick. He had thought she was their mother by the way she behaved. He had been a bit worried she was married or already had a boyfriend, but if she had been a single mother, he would be happy and willing to step in as a father. "The whole family just moved to Gotham. Their parents are opening a new business here I think."
"What kind of business?" he asks, his eyes tracing the way her face lights up with a laugh. He can't hear what the little boy says, but it must have been humorous since she is chuckling for a while with him.
His heart flutters a little. He's never seen a smile so perfect and genuine before.
"Ecto-research and Ecto-defenses," Babs says with a straight face.
"What is that?" Kori asks, leaning on the counter to read over Bab's shoulder. Technically she shouldn't be sitting on the counter like this, nor should Dick or Wally be on the other side with Babs, but her boss was out for the day.
And Bruce owned the building.
"I'm not sure. I've been trying to look into it since Jazz told me about it on Monday." Babs replies, clicking between a webpage titled Fenton Works and Ectobeings. "It's not that they hidden the information, but it's a bit out there. The term ghost appears a lot, so I'm assuming they are ghost hunters and researchers."
"A daughter of ghost hunters.....almost as odd as a son of circus performers." Wally nudges Dick with his elbow, making the other smile, even if he blushes a little when the little girl snaps her gaze at them. "You have a change, Wonder Boy!"
"Please don't call me that. People are going to think I'm associated with Wonder Woman."
"Please, as if Wonder Woman would waste her time on you," Wally laughs, then leans closer. "I bet you could ask her about the family business over dinner."
"That would be a great opener," Kori agrees. "From my personal experience, men become much more attractive if they show interest in my family business."
"Your family business was being royal warlords," Babs tells her, which makes Kori stand up with pride.
"We had a long history of battle!"
Dick opens his mouth to answer, only to have a young voice cut him off. "You're royalty, too?"
In shock, he glances down, not realizing the little girl had sneaked up on them. She blinks large blue eyes at him with an innocent expression that only children this young can make. She is holding a book about the fictional Prince Dorathea and her tales of the Dragon necklace.
It was a new young adult novel by an anonymous author, taking the fantasy genre by storm. Dick should know since he was obsessed with reading the series too.
"I am. Princess Kori, heir to the throne." Kori tells her with a smile. She had never been that worried about her secret identity even though she appeared human right now- she was wearing a glamor necklace that Zatanna had whipped up for her so she could walk around like a regular person. She then winks, "Don't tell the government."
The little girl nods seriously as if she would take the secret to the grave. She's adorable. "I won't. I'm hiding from them too."
"Why's that?"
"I'm a princess." She says, lowering her voice into a stage whisper. Dick's heart melts. "My brother's the king."
"Danielle Fenton, what did I say about wandering around?" The goddess herself demands, striding over to them. Floating behind her is the little boy staring at the adults with wide, gleeful eyes.
Instead of becoming scared of a scolding like most children, Danielle throws a fist into the air. "I shall not be contained!"
The woman snorts. "I'll ground you."
"Let's not be too hasty," Danielle answers quickly as the little boy starts laughing, slowly turning in the air with his laughter. Dick watches, intrigued. It almost seems as if he was lying in an invisible hammock.
The redhead rolls her eyes, turning her gaze to the rest of the adults with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about her."
"No worries, Jazz. Danielle wasn't a bother, but you should listen to your sister and not walk around alone." The last part is directed at the little girl who starts to float upwards. "By the way, these are my friends. Wally, Kori, and Dick."
"Nice to meet you all." Jazz replies, and Dick can only offer her a wave as his tongue seems to have become lead. What is wrong with him?! "I'm Jasmine Fenton but call me Jazz. This is Danny and Danielle. Can we check these books out?"
"Sure. Guys, move out of the way for a bit." As Babs helps her, Wally yanks Dick to the side.
"Dude, are you okay?"
" I think I'm in love."
"Oh no." Says Kori with wide eyes. "We lost him.
None of the three notices the glowing blue eyes of a flouting little boy watching their huddle, nor do they notice the immense power resting behind such a youthful face.
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fastandcarlos · 4 months
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My Hero : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: when your heel breaks, you don’t quite know what to, luckily for you, charles is there to save the day
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It was typical. Just your luck.
You were used to going to busy events, glamming yourself up and making sure that you looked the part by Charles’ side. Every time you had the same pair of shoes that you trusted to wear that kept you safe and left you without any injury. You loved how comfortable they were, when everything else around you was so frantic, it was a huge relief knowing that you could get from A to B without worrying about falling over or having to hold onto Charles to stop yourself from losing your balance.
However, as you headed to the restaurant you were meeting some colleagues at, your trusty shoes broke all of that. As you went up the kerb the heel got stuck, and as you tried to untangle it, you could hear the crack. Luckily for you, no one was around to see you troubled, but that didn’t stop you from silently cursing under your breath how you were going to get through the rest of the evening.
Thankfully for you, your colleagues were just as organised as you, with one of your closest friends carrying a spare pair of shoes in her bag which managed to fit your feet in. With that, you tried to enjoy your evening, but it wasn’t quite that easy. Behind your smile you couldn’t help but worry, it would take forever for you to find a pair of shoes that would be as comfortable as these, to find a pair you could wear to one of Charles’ formal events without living in fear that you’d end up embarrassing yourself.
Whilst you sat feeling sorry for yourself, your phone buzzed beside you. You quickly picked it up, feeling your smile turn up as you read a familiar name on your screen. It was if he knew that you needed just a little sign to try and brighten up your evening a little bit. You grabbed your phone, unlocking it so that you could read through the message that Charles had sent you properly.
Charles: hope you’re having a good time love 🥰
Despite the fact he was enduring the busiest time of his year, in the middle of preparing for yet another race weekend, he still thought of you. It was never a text to tick a box, it was always a text because he genuinely cared and was wanting to make sure you were enjoying yourself. Charles was the one who pushed for you to go out that night, knowing that it would be a great opportunity for you to bond with some of your colleagues.
You tended to know where Charles’ line of questioning came from, once he started, it didn’t take long before he desperately asked you how long it would be until you were home and back with him.
You: aside from breaking my heel, it’s pretty fun!
You barely had time to breathe before your phone buzzed.
Charles: damn, you’re not serious right?
You: afraid so 💔
The feeling of someone looking over your shoulder is enough for you to put your phone away again. You shared quite a bit with your colleagues, but your phone conversations with Charles were not one of those. Your attention turned back to what was happening at the table, midway through a conversation you weren’t quite sure what was going on, opting to nod along and hope for the best.
What started off as fun, began to bore you pretty quickly. Your eyes started to dart off in all directions to try and keep entertained, looking around the restaurant until they landed on something you were not quite expecting. A familiar figure is stood in the entranceway to the restaurant, eyes scanning around the room.
Charles looked messy, his clothes weren’t straight, his hair was like a bird’s nest and he still had his glasses on from whatever he was doing at home. You could tell he had moved quickly to get to the restaurant and find you. As he continued to search for you, you decided to put him out of his misery, excusing yourself from the table, dancing through the tables until you were stood directly in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” You whispered across to him, not wanting to cause a scene. “I’m supposed to be having dinner.”
You’d never seen Charles look so relieved as he studied you closely, checking you over. He was silent for a moment, which left you feeling worried, taking a tight hold of his hand and leading him out onto the cold street so that no one was able to see the two of you.
“Charles?” You questioned again, poking gently against his chest. It was your turn to look closer at Charles, he had beads of sweat dripping down his face, his hands were clammy, surprising considering the chill in the air. “Are you planning on talking to me at some point?” You pushed beginning to get concerned as to why he looked so erratic in front of you.
“You’re okay.”
Your brows knitted together in confusion, “of course I’m okay.”
Charles didn’t take your word for an answer and still checked you over one last time. “I thought that you’d hurt yourself, I thought I’d have to take you to the hospital.”
Your head shook in disbelief, “why would I need you to do that for me? Perhaps, do you need to go?”
If it wasn’t for the streetlight next to Charles you were concerned that he would end up passing out. He was barely able to catch his breath, sweat still dripped down him leaving you perplexed.
“What did you do? Run here?”
You were expecting Charles to immediately tell you no, but instead there was a bit of a pause, leaving you wondering if perhaps your assumption was correct.
“I didn’t run here,” he eventually responded, “but I moved a little quicker than I usually do when I think the person I love is in trouble.”
“In trouble?” You frowned, glancing down at the new pair of shoes that you wore.
“I told you I was on my way,” Charles informed you, “you said that you broke your heel, I was expecting to see you on the floor or something.”
The penny finally dropped, pressing your hand to your head. “You thought I meant my actual heel?”
“Oh…” Charles stuttered as you reached into your bag and took out the broken one that you carried. Charles’ smile dropped as he realised his mistake.
Your laughter grew louder as Charles’ cheeks turned darker
He reached out for your hand and pulled you into his body, squeezing you tightly with relief that you were alright. Only when he’s convinced that he’s got the wrong end of the stick can Charles finally let himself laugh about what’s happened, finding himself able to catch his breath and steady the beat of his heart again. You were alright, and that was all that mattered to him.
As funny as the situation was, it was yet another reminder for you as to how much Charles cared about you. He had never felt a fear like it thinking that you had broken your heel, no other thought entered his mind other than the one to get to you as quickly as he possibly could. The only thing he wanted to do was get to you as quickly as possible, terrified that you would end up going through something so horrible alone.
“I can’t believe you sometimes,” you teased, throwing your head back to be able to look at Charles.
“How was I supposed to know it was your damn shoe?” He huffed, smiling innocently back at you, “you gave me such a fright.”
Your head shook as Charles kissed gently against your lips. “You really are my hero sometimes, aren’t you?”
Charles hummed in agreement with you, “you know I always want to save the day for you.”
Again you wanted to snigger at him, but he was just too caring for you. “Are you heading back home? Shall I come with you?”
“Stay. Enjoy your dinner, I’ll be at home waiting for you,” Charles instructed, “but don’t stay too long, it’s lonely being home alone.”
“Try not to break a bone or anything on the way!” You called out as Charles waved goodbye to you, heading down the road.
“Shut up!” He shouted back, earning a few glances from some of the other people around you. You poked your tongue out as Charles as you headed back into the restaurant.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Once you were back at home, you threw yourself down on the sofa and opened up your phone, finding the messages that Charles had left you after you put your phone away.
Charles: I’m coming, don’t move sweetheart
Charles: I’m so sorry this happened
And then came another, sent just after you’d said goodbye to Charles again.
Charles: I’ll always be your hero ❤️
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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gojossocks · 11 months
Text
Pathetic
Pairing: AU!Sukuna x reader Genre: angst Content: the title says it all, pathetic ‘kuna core. Sukuna cockblocked himself because he's afraid of commitment :DD a bit of gojo x reader at the end bc y/n deserves love. Wc: 1.2k
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“Stop being so pathetic.” He had declared, his words cutting through the air like shards of ice.
But you, ever resolute, had refused to let his harshness deter you. Sukuna knows how much his sentence has hurt you. Your hands were trembling as you reached his, desperately seeking connection. Tears glistened in your eyes, your voice was quivering but you smiled at him through your blurred vision.
“We could work it out right, ‘Kuna?” you implored, your voice soft yet it held so much weight. “Please talk to me. I don’t need anything else! I just need you. We don’t have to get married or anything. I am content just being with you. I love you.”
Sukuna’s gaze remains distant, his eyes fixed on the table behind you. He isn’t looking at you anymore. His response was dispassionate and void of the warmth he used to give you. “It’s not that. I just don’t love you anymore, Y/N.”
He watched you break and he watched you swallow your sobs as you clutched his hand tighter. “That’s okay,” you whispered, your voice desperate, barely more than a breath. “You loved me once, I could make you do it again. Tell me what to change and I’ll change for you, love.”
“I don’t care. I’m leaving.” He pulled his hand away, leaving you alone in your once shared bedroom. He still remembered the sounds of your sobs down the hallway as he walked out of your life.
Sukuna was always sure of himself that day he left you. He had said it so indifferently, so carelessly, as if he didn’t spend years being loved by you. He thought he moved on quite easily— bouncing from one woman to another, getting drunk on his own success, and wasting the rest of his twenties on meaningless connections. The hollowness of it all continued to haunt him.
It’s been half a decade trying to ignore the ache that has been gnawing at his heart. And it wasn’t until he saw you again did the gravity of his actions finally catched up to him.
It was supposed to be your anniversary and Sukuna finds himself pathetically walking into the places you once walked with him. He claimed he forgot about you but his feet always drag him to the remnants of you every year, without fail. He convinced himself it was just a mere coincidence that he walked to the same park where he first hugged you, how you fit right into his arms like you were made exactly for him. He finds himself dining in the restaurant you love so much, and he wonders if you still go there to order your favorite food.
He didn’t want to lay on his bed because he would think about how you used to run your hands through his hair when he’s upset or stressed. He would think about the warmth and comfort radiating out of you when he pulls you closer to him.
He told himself he had forgotten about you when he still hadn't thrown away the polaroid of the two of you, smiling softly as you kissed his cheeks. It was still in his wallet and he never bothered to change the photo. He remembers the way you clung to his arm, excitedly pointing out the changing leaves as autumn envelops the weather. He called you an idiot but you scrunch your nose at him and pulled him to a kiss. He remembers you dragging him into a movie theater to watch a cheesy romantic comedy. He got bored midway but he stayed anyway because he didn’t like seeing the pout on your face.
And he couldn’t rid what you had left him despite not taking any of your belongings when he left. He finds you in his morning coffee, how he drinks it with creamer and sugar because you told him it tasted better. He still gets your favorite laundry detergent every time he shops and he still folds his shirts the way you taught him to.
He thinks of you every sunrise, you once told him it’s a privilege to see the sun come alive right before your eyes and he stays up until morning just so he could pretend he’s seeing it with you.
Why is he mourning over a person who is very much alive?
He lets himself wonder if you think about him too, if you’ve forgiven him. His hands itch to call you to apologize or to ask to see you. He stops himself every time.
In the first year of your break up, he scrolled through your social media accounts to catch a glimpse of your life. You blocked him on everything the following year.
He drowned himself in his vices once more to numb that void you left. And once the party’s over, he would return to his empty mansion, clutching the only relic he has of you— the sweater you left at his place. It didn’t have any traces of your favorite perfume anymore yet he still hung on to it. In those moments, he allowed himself to regret his decision.
What would his life turn out if he told you what was on his mind?
It finally dawned on him when he saw you that day. You were still as radiant and you were smiling just as bright. You still looked like the same woman he walked away from years ago. The same woman he still loves. Only, you looked happier, your joy evident in every step you took. Sukuna watched you emerge from your favorite cafe, holding your coffee in one hand, a ring on your finger. The sight sent a shiver down his spine.
In your arms, cradled tenderly, was a child. Sukuna knew without a doubt that he was yours, the same eyes that had once held his heart were now reflected in your son’s eyes. White strands adorned your son’s hair, and Sukuna suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He had never entertained the thought that he would ever see you with someone who wasn’t him. But now, as he stood there, he couldn’t deny the fact that he had no place in your life anymore.
You had settled down and gotten married to none other than Gojo Satoru.
He watched as your husband approached you, whispering something in your ear that made you giggle and smile harder. He watched as Gojo brushes your hair out of your face, taking your son from your arms so he could hold your hand.
Sukuna watched as Gojo Satoru gave you everything he couldn’t.
It felt like the gods were mocking him. And oh how Sukuna knew he messed up when he saw how you looked at Gojo the way you used to look at him.
It was supposed to be him.
He turned and walked away again before you could see him, paying his last respect to your own peace and happiness. Every step he took felt like daggers into his heart.
It’s pathetic, isn’t it?
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
Text
Penny for your thoughts
Synopsis: You’ve recently been transferred to a UK base and struggle with British currency. Your lieutenant is mortified—and rightfully so.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader
Word Count: 1,286 (approx. 5-6 mins reading time)
Notes:
I thought it was funny when I wrote it, okay? It’s a crackfic. There’s some teasing and playful banter in there, but I can’t label it as fluff.
Warnings: Profanity. Lots of it.
More A/N at the end.
———————————————————————
You’ve been trying to escape the lieutenant’s grip for the past two hours.
The upcoming mission requires close combat skills, he said. You’ll need to infiltrate a facility with minimum weapons and immobilise—but not kill—the targets for interrogation.
You admitted to him that you hadn’t practised in a long time and your combat skills were a little rusty. But Ghost assured you this wouldn’t be a problem and offered a refresher course in ground fighting and submission techniques.
You never imagined this would be an issue when you agreed to it. On the contrary, your lieutenant was an expert in combat, and training with him could be considered a masterclass.
Looking at it now, with your cheek pressed against the floor and your body twisted like a nautical knot, you wish you could take it back.
The mats have become your second skin. Ghost relentlessly pins you to the ground and immobilises your limbs while explaining the mechanics behind each hold. Sometimes you wonder why he gets into so much detail since you can’t hear shit and are practically knocked out.
Yet, he doesn’t give up on you. He advises you to feel the weight shift, urging you to exploit the slightest openings, encouraging you to break free. Whenever he sees you’re struggling or senses you’re uncertain, he taps your hand or leg, giving you clues to help you.
He immobilises you once more, but he pats your back this time.
“Alright,” he says, standing up, “that’s enough for today.”
He walks to the bench, picks up his towel, and pats his neck. You roll on your back and spread your arms.
“I feel like a pretzel.” You whisper.
“Yup,” he confirms, “that’s Jiu-Jitsu for ya.”
Drenched in sweat, you push yourself off the ground and slowly walk to your bag. You extract your towel and begin rummaging through your wallet to find spare coins for a water bottle. You manage to find one pound, but unfortunately, you fall short.
“Lt.?” You call out.
He turns halfway to give you his attention while tugging the velcro straps from his gloves.
“Do you have fifty pennises?”
He stops midway and lets go of the velcro strap. It can wait. His eyes have formed two thin lines, and his eyebrows almost touch each other.
“Do I have fifty what, soldier?”
“I need fifty pennises.” You reply, this time louder, “Do you have fifty pennises?”
His eyes have changed. They’re not squinting anymore. They are bulging. He frantically looks left and right, bringing his index finger to his mouth.
“Shhhh!” He whispers and runs towards you, waving his other hand in front of your face. “Shut your mouth!”
He closes the distance between you and looks behind him.
“What is wrong with you?” He whispers.
You raise your eyebrows and blink rapidly.
“No,” you reply, “what is wrong with you?”
He lets out a sigh and looks at his surroundings once again. He scratches the side of his chin and clasps his hands in prayer.
“Tell me exactly what you want,” he requests more calmly this time, almost begging you, “Make a sentence out of it.”
“I’m thirsty.” You explain.
“Obviously.”
He’s starting to get on your nerves. You open your palm and raise it to his eye level.
“Look,” you order and point at the coin, “I have one pound.”
“I can see that.” He replies and puts his hand on yours, pushing it down so he can look at you.
“The vending machine needs one pound and a half.”
“Say it.” He commands and swallows hard, “The vending machine needs one pound and fifty...”
You clench your jaw and look at him dead in the eyes.
“Pennises.”
He lets out a snort and clasps his hand at the bridge of his nose. He turns his back to you and takes a few steps away. His shoulders move up and down.
“Ah, soldier,” he replies, still looking the other way. “that’s a lot of pennises.”
You run a hand through your hair and sigh.
“I know my pronunciation is probably wrong,” you state and shut your eyes, “but I need them.”
“Don’t say that,” he says between gasps, “you don’t need that many.”
With your eyes still closed, you start babbling about how wrong he is and how you wish you had a million of them so you could escape this hellhole and retire on an island. He squats to the ground and covers his masked face with his hands.
He sounds like he’s whimpering. You might have assumed he was sobbing if you hadn’t known the cause of his stance. But you knew why he was half crying, half laughing. It sounded hideous. It was hideous. You just can’t remember the word.
What’s it called, what’s it called...
You open your eyes. Ghost is walking towards you, wiping away tears from his eyes. He retrieves a fist of coins from his pocket and, muttering something under his breath, chooses two. He pinches a silver hexagonal-shaped coin with his fingers and shows it to you.
“This,” he says, “is fifty pence, or 50p.”
“Pence or p.” You repeat.
“That’s right.” He confirms and pinches a smaller coin with his other hand. “Now, this little one is a penny. Fifty of these are called fifty pennies.”
“Pennies,” you echo and slap your thighs, “See? Was it that hard to explain?”
“Oh yes,” he replies and nods slowly, “yes, it was that fucking hard.”
You lift your palm. “Can I have the big one?” You ask.
“Say it first.” He commands you.
You roll your eyes. “Can I have the 50p, Lt.?”
“Of course, you may have the 50p.” He says and places the coin in your hand, “What you absolutely may not have is fifty….” He stops and lets a repressed chuckle out.
You press your lips together and bite your cheek to not respond to his teasing. But you can’t.
“…pennises, I presume?” You sneer.
“Yeah, no.” He says and vigorously shakes his head, “You don’t want that.”
You wince and rub the back of your neck. Ghost tries to comfort you, telling you it’s ok and you shouldn’t feel bad, but he doesn’t believe it himself. He’s smiling beneath that mask; you can tell by how the grimace alters his voice. You thank him for the coin and walk to the vending machine.
“Soldier,” he calls out, “how many times have you said that word since you came to the UK?”
You tilt your head and try to recall.
“I can’t remember.” You conclude.
“You can’t remember if you ever said it, or there were so many occasions that you can’t count them?” He asks with a trembling voice.
“No, Lt.,” you reply, defeated, “I don’t remember asking another person for that.”
He looks relieved. He lets out a long exhale and rubs his masked face with his palms.
“I never thought I’d ever say this,” he says, “but I’m glad I was the first one.”
———————————————————————
A/N: I wrote this in March, along with this story (yes, they’re very similar). Although I liked the idea and thought it was funny, I initially discarded it because it felt stupid, and chose to post the other one (not like the other one is pure genius). It remains as such, but as I said, it’s a crackfic. I’m not researching how to improve human welfare.
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flwrstqr · 4 months
Text
enhypen hyung line when you guys are enemies but they see you with another boy
pairings: enemy!enhypen x fem!reader | genre: fluff, ot7 work, imagines, jealousy, enemies to lovers | wc: 900+ | warnings: not proofread, party, jealousy, pet name, kissing | an: idk if this is exactly what u asked for anon cus i was a bit confused but sorry if it isnt.. TT, wrote too much so ill be posting a maknae line for this too | LIBRARY FOR MORE...
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이희승 (lhs)
you were there with your group of friends, enjoying the night, but your eyes kept drifting to heeseung, who was surrounded by his own circle of admirers. heeseung was your biggest rival in school. You both competed for the top spot in academics, sports, and even in popularity. despite being enemies, you felt some kind of attraction between the two of you. as you start partying, you start dancing with your boy best friend, having fun and the time of your life you glanced over at heeseung, who was watching you with an unreadable expression. you moved closer to your best friend, he played along, his hands hovering over your hips, but not quite touching. heeseung's eyes widened, his jaw clenching. after the song ended, you excused yourself and headed outside for some fresh air. to your surprise, heeseung followed you.
"what was that?" he demanded, his voice a mix of irritation and something deeper.
"just having fun," you replied nonchalantly, leaning against the railing.
"with him?" heeseung stepped closer, his eyes darkening. "you know he's into you, right?"
you raised an eyebrow. "and why do you care?"
heeseung hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "because I..." he took a deep breath, his voice softer. "i don't like seeing you with him."
you felt a thrill run through you. "oh? and who would you rather see me with?"
heeseung closed the distance between you, his hand brushing against your cheek. "me," he whispered, his lips inches from yours.
your breath hitched, the world around you fading away. "then maybe you should have asked me to dance," you murmured.
heeseung's lips curved into a smile, his hand moving to the back of your neck. "maybe I will," he said, before closing the gap and kissing you softly. (i cried while writing this.)
(rest of the members below..)
박종성 (pjy)
you were talking with your friends, but your eyes kept wandering to jay, who was chatting with another girl across the room. A pang of jealousy shot through you, surprising even yourself.
you tried to push the feeling aside, focusing on enjoying the moment with your friend group. but as you glance one more time, you see him again. he was smiling at the girl he was talking to, completely oblivious to your gaze.
suddenly, a voice breaks through your thoughts, causing you to startle. You turn around to find Jay standing beside you, a casual smirk playing on his lips.
"need anything, pretty girl?" he asks, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity.
you jump, taken aback by his sudden appearance. It takes a moment for you to register that he wasn't in front of you before, but now stands beside you, having moved swiftly while you were lost in your thoughts about him.
"nothing," you mumble, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks as you realize you've been caught staring.
"i know you were staring earlier," jay teases.
"shut up, it's not like you don't like me back either." you blurt, your eyes widening realizing what you said.
"who said i didn't like you?"
심재윤 (sjy)
in the dimly lit prom hall, you and jake exchange glances from opposite ends of the room.
jake walks over with a cocky grin. "well," he teases, extending his hand. "care to grace me with a dance?"
you arch an eyebrow, matching his playful demeanor. "i don't know. can you keep up with me?"
he chuckles, the challenge evident in his eyes. "try me." with a smirk, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor.
midway through the song, you pull him closer, your heart racing. the proximity. but jake doesn't resist. instead, he meets your gaze with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. "you know," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, "you're not at all what I expected."
"same with you,"
박성훈(psh)
you couldn't help but laugh as your friend pulled you onto the dance floor. that was until you felt a pair of eyes burning into you from across the room. you knew who it was even before you looked up—sunghoon. he had been your rival for as long as you could remember. but there was something else there. maybe it was in the way his eyes lingered on you a bit too long, or how your heart raced whenever he was near.
as you continue to laugh and talk with your friends. you spun and moved closer to your friends. you saw the surprise flicker across sunghoon's face, followed by something darker, more intense. he set his drink down and made his way towards you, his expression unreadable.
"having fun?" he asked, his voice low and edged with something you couldn't quite place.
"just talking and laughing" you replied innocently.
he stepped closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. "looks like you're trying to start something."
"maybe I am," you said, meeting his gaze head-on.
before you knew it, the music slowed, and he held out his hand. "then dance with me."
it wasn't a request. you hesitated for a second, then took his hand, letting him pull you into his arms.
"you know," he murmured in your ear, "I never really hated you."
"then why do act like you hate me?," you replied, your heart pounding.
"maybe I was just trying to get your attention," he admitted, his voice softening.
you looked up at him, "well, you have it now."
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fluffylino · 9 months
Text
you show minho and hyunjin that they don't need their husbands.
(literally got this idea while showering.)
(boypussy les go and threesome?)
-contains mature themes
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"you feel hurt, don't you. doesn't my baby deserve so much better"
hyunjin is leaning into your hand thats cradling his face. his eyes are glassy and filled with so much love. he nods slowly.
"you work so hard, take care of channie and do most of the work at home...and what do you get in return" you state.
its obvious. hyunjin's husband is cheating.
"lets forget about him, yeah" your hands are on his hips. making him grind down on you.
"f-feels good" he mumbles, blinking his tears away. hips rolling in circles on your strap.
"i know baby. how long has it been?" you ask, noticing how his breathing was already becoming heavier.
"three years" and you feel your heart break.
three years without any relief. no touching. no pleasing. no source of pleasure. and hyunjin is crying again. shoulders shaking.
you thrust up hard. hitting that spot inside that has him doubling over himself.
"ahhh-hhm" mouth forming an 'o' shape. fingers balling the fabric of your shirt.
"princesses deserves to be fucked like royalty"
you say, bringing your hand up to wipe the tears on his cheeks. moving lower to thumb as his sensitive nubs.
"m'princess?"
its asked so innocently. you're ready to give him the world. more than ready to knock out his husband. the next statement being high pitched whines.
"yeah baby..yeah" your voice cracking at how truly pretty hyunjin was. bouncing on your dick. shoulder length hair moving around. his arms hooked around your neck.
so you slip your hand down. pressing it to his swollen clit. and he keens.
squirming when you rub at him in a way that makes his orgasm speed up.
"please, c-can i? please p-please mmh-" he's begging. holding out till you give him your permission.
what a good boy, you thought. you wanted to make him yours. and he wanted to be yours.
"cream all over doll"
and he's cumming. melting into you. no longer able to hold himself up. you help him ride it out. not pulling out. instead letting him stick close to you.
"w-want you as my...wife" he mumbles, lifting his head up. moaning when you cup his face.
kissing him with an intensity that makes his heart race. 
.
.
"stop being a fucking brat" minho yells harshly. getting up to walk towards the other. hyunjin throws the book on the floor, standing up.
"you probably slept with jisung" he says. poking a finger at minho.
"Never. and you. you kept flirting with seungmin" 
snapping you out of your thoughts. you take off your headphones. realising that if you hadn't at that moment, the two of them would have started to fight physically.
"go fuck yourself!" is what hyunjin shouts back, storming into another room.
maybe it was a bad idea to bring them both here. to your apartment.
"yeah ill fuck you instead" and that sends a sinful thought in your mind.
what if.
just what if. sex was the solution.
to bring them closer. to make them forget about their husbands. instead make them grow closer.
and realise.
"minho please" you ask, straddling him to keep him from running away. he refuses to look you in the eye. "hyunjin is going through a lot right now-"
"so am i. its always hyunjin this hyunjin that. what about me"
"listen to me." your tone is firm. one thing you hate is getting cut off midway while talking. and minho shuts up. because he knows.
"eat him out" in any other situation you'd be laughing at his expression. he looked like one of those bewildered kittens. his immediate response is a no. and there is a couple minutes of silence before.
"w-why?" he asks. but you don't feel like explaining. so you ask him to trust you fully on this.
when you walk into the room. hyunjin is sulking in the pillows. face completely hidden.
.
"aah" minho huffs out, as hyunjin bucks his hips at his teasing. tongue laving into his warm cunt.
filthy lewd sounds filling your ears. you stand behind minho. sliding your fingers into him. taking him by surprise.
"bet your husbands were never this good"
its a casual statement. but the reaction it gives you is enough. the realisation setting in. the compromising positions. the fact that they were doing this.
"the two of you are beautiful. just tainted by this horrible world"
minho whines when you take your digits out. and hyunjin starts tearing up again. 
you're ready to comfort him but minho is quicker. moving away to clamber over him. holding his shaky hand.
"don't cry doll shhh" gently pushing his hair away from his face.
hyunjin is taken aback by the sudden kind gesture.
minho and him were always a bit...awkward. and there was always this lingering tension between them.
And when they found you. it had strengthened. you had made them realise they were loved. they deserved to be loved. they loved you. and you loved them. regardless of everything they were going through.
.
.
.
and maybe you end up fucking hyunjin in doggy style.
overstimulating his tight little pussy while he's gasping and struggling to eat out his beloved minho.
.
.
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kayhi808 · 1 month
Text
First Crush - 11
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You just walk into the event site and it's already a win. They gave Abby a paper wristband and she thinks they gave her a bracelet as a gift. It's going to be a fight later when you have to cut that off her.
Bucky leans down to you, "What's the game plan?"
"Maybe we can walk through everything first, to see what they have and see what Abby likes? Is that ok?"
"Sure, whatever you want, doll."
Looking at Abby up on his shoulders, "Let me know when you want me to carry her. Or you can let her walk. She can get heavy."
Giving you an insulted look, "I'm a super soldier. My ruck sack is heavier than she is."
You put your hands up in surrender, "Sorry, Super Soldier." You adjust Abby's backpack on your back and follow them. You weren't sure what they'd have here, so you packed some of Abby's necessities, but you don't think you'll be needing it. There's a section marked off for a dozen or so food trucks, a small stage & tents sent up. Some families where on blankets having picnics. Others were under the tents. "I've never taken Abby to Coney Island or a fair like this before. This is all new to her." You look up at Abby & she is so wide-eyed trying to take everything in.
You stop at the tent of Midway Gallery of Games. You watch people play trying to win stuffed animals & all sorts of prizes. Some of the Agents were yelling & getting rowdy in their competition. You look up and you notice Abby looking frightened & covering her ears. "Baby?" You hold your arms out to her, and she frowns & reaches out to you. "It's ok." Bucky deposits Abby into your arms & rubs her back. "It's a little too loud, huh?" You make your way out of that section & head to the rides. "Ok, this is better. It's quieter out here."
You walk pass the rides, Abby showing zero interest. She has her thumb in her mouth & snuggled into your neck. All the noise and lights were too much for her. You walk a little further and come across a petting zoo. "Abby, look!" You put her down & hold her hand, leading her to the pens.
"It stinky, Mama." Bucky laughs as she scrunches her nose.
"But what are those?"
She squeals, "It's baby duckies!" You let Abby run over to the pen & one of the workers walks up to her with a duckling in her hands and asks Abby is she'd like to pet it. "Mama?" You smile & nod. She's so good & gentle with it. You pull out your phone wanting to get pictures, and the worker takes Abby to a stool to sit & places the duckling in her lap. She's so adorable, You thank the worker & Abby waves goodbye.
"Mama did you sees me? The baby duck sat on my lap!"
"I did, Baby! You were so good with the duckling." And that's how the next half hour goes by. You visit all the babies. PIg, chicken, rabbit, lamb, horses, cows...the baby goats were a little too wild for her. Abby ran to Bucky asking for "upsies".
"I'm ready for a snack. Who wants a treat?" Abby gives you a quick look to see what your reaction is. You raise your hand, so Abby copies you & yells out "Me!" You go to a nearby stand to pick out some lemonade & ice tea in Avenger logo mason jars. You're ready to pay for it, "I'll get it, my treat."
"It's all taken care of. Stark is picking up the tab. The food, rides, games, it's all unlimited."
"That's insane, Buck!" He shrugs and hands you another lemonade. He noticed you were just going to share one with Abby, which you happily take. He grabs a churro for you all to share. He wanted to get one in every flavor for Abby, but you nixed that idea. The last thing you need is for her to get a tummy ache. And you already know you want to get her cotton candy later. That'll be enough sugar to blow her mind.
You take a break to eat your snacks & sanitize your baby after touching all the animals. You bring out the baby wipe & hand sanitizer. Bucky laughs at you, but Abby doesn't care because she now smells pretty, not like the stinky animals.
Now that she's in a better mood, you'll give the rides another round & see if she's interested. She did a round in the jumper house. You're so worried because she's so little and you don't want her to get trampled on, but that's part of being a kid. She fell down & couldn't get back up with all the other kids jumping but she was laughing as she crawled to the wall to get herself back on her feet. She came out of there all sweaty & cheeks pink from laughing.
Then the 3 of you went on the ferris wheel. She didn't want to go until you said you'd all go together & that she could sit in the middle so she'll be safe. She had a tight grip on Bucky's Vibranium arm, but after the first time around, she relaxed and enjoyed it. She could see everything being so high up. Bucky said they could ride it again at night so they could see all the lights and maybe even the fireworks.
The Carousel was next. "Do you want to ride the pretty horses?"
"Oh Mama!" She tries to spin you so she can see her backpack, "It's a unicorn, like i gots!"
Bucky laughs, "You want to ride that one?"
"Yes! I needs to." She jumps up & down. You all wait in line for the next group to enter. Once Abby gets up to the gate, Bucky scoops her up and makes a mad dash to find the unicorn. You hear her screaming with laughter. You try to chase after them. Abby is pointing him in all different directions & giggling. Finally they capture the unicorn for Abby to ride. You take quick pictures of Bucky & Abby with her unicorn. "Mama lookit!"
"It's so pretty! You look like a fairy princess, baby!" There's so much joy on her face you want to break down & cry.
Buck nods over at the horse across from Abby, "Get on."
"No, I don't..."
"Yes, Mama! You needs to!"
"I got her," Bucky resting his arm around Abby's back. "Ride with Abby."
You climb up on the horse as the ride starts and you feel silly and carefree all at the same time. When was the last time you were on a carousel? "Mama, you looks like the fairy QUEEN!"
Bucky looks up at you, "She sure does." You feel your cheeks heat under his gaze.
The ride was over way to quickly. Bucky helps you both off your horses & escorts you outside the gates where Steve awaits you all. "Mr. Captain, you sees my unicorn? I rides him & didn't falls off." Steve so surprised that Abby's even acknowledging him, he laughs.
" You know what? I did. I saw you and your Mama racing up there, and i think you won."
Abby covers her mouth with her hands & giggles, "Mama, I wons you!"
Bucky wraps his arms around you, pulling you back against him, "Did you? Mama was going really fast."
"No, I wons. Mr Captain says so."
"Well, if Mr. Captain says so," Bucky shrugs.
"You guys had lunch yet? Or visited the food trucks?"
"Not yet. Are you hungry Abby? Want to find lunch?" She nods & jumps up and down.
There's so much food and snacks to choose from. The guys end up with BBQ plates and you and Abby are sharing pizza and tacos. You're enjoying your break when Abby stands up on the bench and starts waving, "Frien'! Frien'!" You look around to see who she's calling. "Mama, pretty lady!"
"Natasha."
"N'asha! N'asha!" Abby jumps down & runs to Nat. Bucky's already on his feet ready to follow her. Natasha sees her & picks her up and walks her back over. You can see your baby's mouth moving a mile a minute. "But the goat was jumping and jumping. I's so scared, but Bucky lifts me so they can't gets me."
Taking a seat next to Bucky, "Wow! You had some excitement, huh?"
Climbing on the bench next to you, "It was baby but it was big like me. Ands you know what?"
"What?"
Gulping for air because she's talking so much, "Mama & I race, and my unicorn won. Mr. Captain says I wons her!" Abby claps for herself.
@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22 @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella
"You won. Not you wons her." You roll your eyes but inside you heart in overflowing with love for her excitement and how everyone is so kind to her. You were so worried about being a single parent and not being able to give your baby the life you wished for her. But you think you'll actually be able to do that. Things are looking up for you both. She's going to remember this day for a long, long time. You both will.
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ginnsbaker · 6 months
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (6/?)
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Part summary: "You like Leigh, and that should be that. It shouldn't stop your world from turning, but it does."
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.520 | Warnings/Tags Unrequited feelings and pining | Author's Note: Thank you so much for the warm reception to this story :) I can't promise that this is the last bump in the road.
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Next part
-
“Thanks for meeting me.”
You came in early, already nursing a Mai Tai, having decided that facing this conversation sober wasn’t an option. The alcohol doesn’t make the situation any less twisted, but it dulls the edge of frustration just enough to keep you seated. 
“Let’s get right to it,” you start, not bothering with pleasantries as you take another swig. “Danny.”
He winces slightly at you calling him by his real name, a telling sign of guilt or maybe just discomfort. It’s hard to tell. “Yeah, about that—”
You're not here for the runaround. Hence, the Mai Tai and the vodka that came before it.
“Look, Nick, or Danny, or whoever you are today. I just need some answers—”
“And I’ll give them to you if you promise me one thing.”
You raise an eyebrow, utterly flabbergasted by his nerve. “I'm not here to make any deals,” you state flatly. “I'm here for answers that I believe Matt owes me. And since he’s dead,” you say, not shying away from stating the grim reality in his face, “and you're in on Matt's little game, you owe me too.”
Danny looks like he doesn't want to challenge you on that; in fact, he looks downright worried.
“Please,” he implores. “This is important to me.”
Your eyes narrow in suspicion. Why is he suddenly acting like a dog with its tail tucked between his quivering legs?
“Okay, what is it?” you ask, signaling the bartender for another drink. Danny orders a drink for himself—a shot of whiskey. That's when you realize things are likely to get even crazier for you before they start to improve.
“It’s Leigh,” Danny says, and something in the way he mentions her name lets you know he's sincere about how important this is to him. “She doesn't know the half of it. She doesn't know I’m Nick, or that I helped Matt to... to be with you.”
You blink several times, rapidly, trying to clear the little haze in your head because you can’t believe what you’re hearing. He's asking you to keep a secret. 
After he lied to you.
“And what, if I tell her you pretended to be someone else and helped her husband cheat on her, then what? She's—” you stop mid-sentence, the pieces suddenly clicking together in your mind. Danny doesn't want you to rat him out for being Nick, about his direct involvement in Matt's cheating, because he's… with Leigh? 
They’re together?
As if he's tuned into your thoughts, Danny confirms your hunch. “I love Leigh. I think I always have. And if you tell her this, it's going to be the end of us.”
The first thing you feel is this urge to be all possessive about Leigh, coalesced with a sour taste in your mouth knowing someone else got there first. Except, you know Leigh would never look at you like that. So, it embitters you even more admitting you shouldn't be feeling this way at all.
You take a long sip of your newly arrived drink, buying time to think. Telling Leigh is supposedly the right thing to do, but it could also destroy whatever happiness she's found with Danny.
But is she though? Is she happy with Danny? 
“So let me get this straight,” you say, the alcohol lending you a blunt courage. “You orchestrated this whole scenario—Matt meeting someone else—just so you could break him and Leigh up? You love her so much you'd do that to your friend?”
Danny looks even more defeated—as he should when he reveals, “Matt's not just some friend. He's my brother.”
You're midway through a sip of water when the words hit you, and you nearly choke on it, barely stopping yourself from spitting the water out.
“You’re despicable! And to think that—”
“But I didn’t orchestrate anything, okay? Do you think I’m some kind of god, picking you randomly to throw at Matt? You guys really met and fell for each other by chance. I had nothing to do with both of your feelings.”
You scoff, incredulous. There's no way you're going to believe anything he says next. You just can't.
“So, your big plan was what? Just to hang back and hope to catch Leigh on the rebound?” you say defiantly. 
The look he gives you, and the fact that he’s not outright denying it—
“Look,” he drones, raising a hand as if to temper your barrage of questions. “There was no plan, all right? Matt met you, and he just couldn't shake you off his mind. It was all him. And yeah, it was merely chance he saw you again, going into your clinic that afternoon. He told me about it, and I went with him to talk to you because he asked me to. I was just as thrown when he introduced me as ‘Nick’.”
You're skeptical, to say the least. “Why would Matt do that? Why go through all that trouble?”
Danny shrugs. “I’m not sure, but I went along with it. Probably because deep down, Matt knew what he was doing wasn’t right. Maybe he felt guilty, or maybe he wanted to be someone else in that moment, someone who wasn't Matt Greer with a brother named Danny, who was at his wedding to Leigh Shaw. I don’t know. I mean, I know my brother, but that doesn’t mean I understand all his reasons.”
A sick part of you can't help but feel less sorry about Matt's demise. It's a disgusting thought, harboring anything less than sympathy for someone who's gone, yet you can’t feel anything but enmity for being duped. Not just by one, but two people who played you for a fool.
“God, what a mess,” you mutter, shaking your head. No amount of alcohol could’ve prepared you for this. 
And then another thought occurs to you.
“You were the one who told Leigh about me and Matt, weren't you?”
Danny doesn't respond immediately, his gaze dropping to his lap. 
“And you did it... to get Leigh for yourself. To make her hate Matt, hoping she'd turn to you,” you piece it together, one after another.
“No,” he counters quickly. You smirk into your cocktail, as if you've just heard the punchline of a joke.
Danny looks up, his dark eyes earnest, almost pleading for you to understand. “I didn't tell Leigh about you and Matt because I wanted to ‘have’ her. That... that wasn't it. That thought came much later, and honestly, only after Leigh started... showing interest in me. I never pursued her, not after Matt died. I kept my distance, respected her grief. I loved her quietly, without ever letting on.”
You look away, knowing a thing or two about loving someone in the shadows.
“I told Leigh because if she was going to mourn Matt, she deserved to know the full truth about who she was mourning. Matt wasn't just the loving husband she thought he was, and she had the right to know that,” he finishes.
You shake your head, dismissing his attempt to appear noble by betraying his own brother and tarnishing Leigh's memory of him. It just doesn't sit right to you, using someone's absence to get ahead. Matt's not here to tell his side, to explain things. His only defense being crumbs of himself he left behind like those texts Leigh stumbled upon on Danny's phone.
With a tad of vendetta in your words, you turn Danny’s reasoning against him. 
“Then Leigh deserves to know about you too. About how you were a willing participant in Matt’s deception and helped him pull one over on her,” you tell him, not missing the shock that flickers across his face. “She deserves the truth if she’s going to be with you. Not just your cleaned-up version where you come out looking like the good guy.”
Danny's face goes a shade paler, and for a second, he looks like he's about to argue, but then nothing. He just sits there, kind of deflated, like he's finally realizing the predicament he's in isn't just going to disappear.
You've had enough of his excuses and signal the bartender for the bill. As you pull out your wallet, Danny finds a bit of his backbone again.
“It'll be your word against mine,” he laments, twirling the ice in his glass leisurely. “Me and Leigh, we've known each other for years. Who do you think she'll believe? Because from what I understand, Leigh caught you in a lie too. She doesn't trust you. So good luck trying to ruin our happiness just because you can.”
His challenge makes you bristle, but you square your shoulders, meeting his gaze dead-on. “Do you think Leigh loved Matt?” you ask. 
Danny looks momentarily unsettled by your question, as if it's the last thing he expected from you. But then, without hesitation, he answers, “Yes.”
“Yeah, she would've stuck by Matt, even knowing everything,” Danny continues. “She'd convince him they could start over. Leigh loved... loves Matt so much,” he corrects himself, a bitter smile on his lips as he admits, “I envied my brother for that.”
The bartender slides the bill over, and you hand off your credit card without even a second look, thoroughly pleased with how Danny’s response has played right into your hands. Once you’re done paying for your drinks, you turn back to Danny.
“You latched onto the idea of me and Matt right away, not knowing if I’m going to love Matt the way Leigh loved him, or even more. But you didn’t care,” you say evenly. “All you saw was an opportunity to get the woman for yourself. You’re selfish.”
Danny’s quick to defend himself this time. “You wouldn't say that if you were in my shoes,” he shoots back. “I love both of them. I wanted Matt to be happy, and he wasn't anymore, not with Leigh.”
“And you were more than happy to nudge him away from his wife, thinking that'd fix everything?” you counter sharply.
He squirms in his seat, looking like he’s run out of excuses. He can’t find the words that’ll make you see his side of things. It also dawns on you that he’ll never see your point either.
After a tense silence, he asks, “Are you going to tell Leigh?”
You stand up and let out a heavy sigh. “Honestly? I don't even know if Leigh wants anything to do with me anymore.” Just as you’re about to leave, something compels you to throw Danny a lifeline and you swivel on your heel to give him one last thing to think about.
“If this thing you have with Leigh is real, don’t let her find out about the skeletons in your closet from someone else. It's better coming from you.”
Walking away, you can’t shake off the regret of not taking your own advice, more than you’d normally like to admit.
-
Suzie's been on edge about how you've been acting lately. She's always on the dot with your meals, but you barely give them a glance before packing them up and handing them off to homeless people on the street who need them more. Your days have blurred into a continuous loop at the clinic, skipping breaks, and hovering around even when it's technically Foreman's shift to take the lead.
Today, Suzie's hit her limit watching you mope and brood in your office's corner. Without a word of warning, she marches in with a bottle of red and two glasses. You’re startled, feeling somewhat cornered, as she locks the office door behind her. Ignoring your shock, Suzie starts pouring a generous glass of wine for you, filling it right to the brim.
“Alright, out with it,” she orders, pushing a full glass your way. 
Your gaze sweeps the room, looking for a way out. “Suzie, I don’t think it’s—” Yes, you own the place. But owning it doesn't mean you're about to bend your own rules about drinking on the job.
“Let's drink it out, girlie.” She sets her own glass down, already filled, and takes a seat.  Last time I saw you like this, your team lost the Superbowl. And let's be real, the only other thing that had you this down before was that Matt guy ghosting you.”
You eye the glass of wine, your mouth feeling very dry all of a sudden. “What about the patients waiting outside?”
“Foreman's on it, as long as we save him some for later. I said we would, but let's be honest, this bottle isn't really enough for two,” Suzie says, giving you a wink. 
You let out a sigh, your fingers instinctively inching towards your glass, yet you stop short of actually grabbing it. You're usually the vault, not the one doing the talking. You absorb everyone else's life stories, nod sympathetically, and maybe offer advice on occasion. The only reason Suzie even caught wind of the whole Matt situation is because he made his interest too obvious—showing up at the clinic multiple times with flowers, chocolates, books, and all those little things he discovered you couldn't resist. It wasn't so much you telling her, as it was Matt's grand gestures speaking volumes, making it impossible for anyone, especially Suzie, not to notice.
Taking a deep breath, you realize maybe it's time to open up to someone, to share the absurdity of your situation with someone who might just understand—someone who, at the very least, also likes women.
“Okay, so here's the thing... I've got this weird crush,” you say, letting that sit for a moment, partly because you're still wrapping your head around it, partly because you still can’t believe it. You can't pinpoint exactly when you started tumbling down a rabbit hole from which there was no climbing back out. 
“On Matt's wife.”
Suzie's reaction is as you expected—her eyes go wide, her mouth drops, and the wine glass she's holding almost slips from her grasp. “You what?” she gasps, looking at you like you've grown a second head. “How in the world do you end up falling for your ex's wife?”
You never said anything about falling. But you suppose that's how it looks, given how much you've been out of sorts ever since Leigh called you a liar.
-
Sitting in your car across from Leigh's house, you feel like some sort of stalker. You tell yourself this is a one-off, not a habit you're planning to develop. Though, if you don't catch her tonight, you'll likely be back here tomorrow, or the day after. 
After that wine-fueled heart-to-heart with Suzie, you left the clinic with a buzz and her words echoing inside your head: Just walk up to Leigh and say you were an ass and that you're sorry. And here you are, taking her advice a bit too literally and too soon.
It's getting late, and you've been watching Leigh's front door as if it might sprout legs and run away. You're semi-drunk, definitely not in the best state for making apologies, but Suzie's pep talk has convinced you that you need to do this, and now. “This is a terrible idea,” you mumble to yourself, checking your phone again to see if, by some miracle, Leigh has responded to one of your texts. Still nothing.
Just as you're starting to question your sanity and consider driving home, you finally spot Leigh’s car turning the corner. Your heart starts doing somersaults, threatening to beat its way out of your chest as the car pulls into the driveway. But as the car parks and the door swings open, your hopeful anticipation crashes hard into disappointment. It's not Leigh stepping out onto the curb; it's Jules. So, it's a family car, and today, of all days, you didn't get the driver you were hoping for. 
A headache begins to brew as you scold yourself for even showing up here. “What am I even doing?” you mutter under your breath, rubbing your temples as if that could erase the last few hours. Leigh might be at Danny's for all you know, making this stakeout even more pointless.
In those few seconds of self-berating, you're completely oblivious to Jules spotting you from the sidewalk. So, when she taps on your side of the window, you nearly jump out of your skin, hand shaking as you roll it down to face her.
“Hi,” she says simply. She’s smiling, like she knows something you don’t.
“I'm not a stalker,” you say defensively. “I'm just…” An idiot.
You weren’t aware you said the last part aloud until Jules chuckles. “Well, at least you’re an honest idiot. You waiting for Leigh?”
“I was, but... I'll just go,” you stammer, ready to make a retreat and save what little dignity you have left.
“You won't get anywhere far on those flat tires though,” Jules comments offhandedly, nodding towards the back of your car.
“Flat tires?”
You quickly unbuckle your seatbelt to check. Sure enough, when you step out and circle to the back, both of your rear tires are depressingly flat, deflated against the pavement. 
“Great,” you groan, raking your fingers through your hair and tugging in frustration. “Just my luck.”
You’re not drunk enough to find the situation funny, nor sober enough to deal with flat tires.
“Maybe you should call a tow or something and wait inside the house until they get here,” Jules suggests. 
“My phone’s dead,” you say in response.
“No problem, I can call them for you.”
You're chewing over the thought, when your stomach decides to join the conversation with a loud rumble. 
Jules grins and adds, “Plus, I've got pizza.” The thought of waiting it out with the comfort of food suddenly makes the idea of intruding a lot less unappealing.
-
“Why do you even like my sister?”
You're mid-bite on your first slice when Jules launches that question out of the blue and you nearly choke on your own spit. Crumbs dust your fingers as you set the slice down, buying yourself a moment to think. It's not like you've never asked yourself the same question. It's just that the answer doesn't make any more sense to you either.
“She, uh, has a way of making an impression. Mostly, I appreciate her candor—”
“You find her bitchiness… endearing?” 
You’re stunned by the way she frames it, but it also makes you smile, recognizing the blunt honesty in her words—something that apparently runs in the family. You guess Jules could say that. Leigh’s sour attitude offended you one time, and then you heard her laugh and saw her smile, and it’s as if the sun never set for you. 
“Her... directness is refreshing. In a world full of people trying to sugarcoat everything, Leigh just says it like it is. And yes, it can come off a bit strong, but there's something genuine about it. Plus, she's incredibly passionate about what she believes in. She has this authenticity that’s rare to find nowadays.”
Formidable. You think of the perfect adjective to describe it a tad too late, but you keep it to yourself, thinking you’ve gushed enough about her sister.
“Is that the alcohol talking or do you like, like Leigh?”
It's one thing to harbor a secret crush, quite another to have it recognized and named by someone else, especially Leigh's family. “I don’t—”
“I thought I caught a whiff of red on your breath out there on the street. Here, drink more water,” Jules says, pouring you a tall glass. “I’d offer you a beer but we stopped having those around here because I’m seven months sober.”
“Oh. Congratulations,” you say.
“Thanks.”
She seems to have moved on from her question, getting busy on her phone a moment later, but you haven't, and it leaves you feeling spotlighted in a way you weren't prepared for. “I, um…” You're scrambling for the right terms, something to deflect but not deny. Because the more you've denied it, the more your feelings have grown.
Determined to see you continue to squirm at the kitchen bar, Jules starts talking about Leigh almost casually, as though she's discussing something as mundane as the weather.
“You know, Leigh had a girlfriend in college, before Matt, of course. So, you don't have to worry about her not being interested in girls,” she says, her eyes not leaving her phone screen.
“She did?” 
By this time, you're not even sure if Jules is just pulling your leg, and you're baffled as to why she's sharing details about Leigh that Leigh herself probably wouldn't tell you outright.
“Yeah, she was totally into her, just like she was with Matt. Then, out of nowhere just tossed her aside like that,” Jules snaps her fingers, “she completely cut her off. They had been together for two years, and she didn’t shed a single tear over the breakup. So, maybe that's what you should be worrying about,” Jules says, putting her phone facedown on the table. 
The pizza suddenly looks less appetizing as you stew over this. It's one thing to worry about whether Leigh could reciprocate your feelings; it's another to consider that even if she did, there’s the reality that it might not go down the way you hope it would, given the chance. 
You've always been told you're too much of a dreamer to be a doctor. That became even more apparent when they saw you couldn't help but cry alongside pet owners every time a pet didn't make it or when you had to make that tough call for mercy's sake. You've been in relationships before; after all, you're twenty-eight years old. But you've always treated them like free trials, never getting too serious, especially during those times when you couldn't stay in the same zip code for more than a few weeks. Then, the moment you decide it's time to plant roots, your concept of romance skyrockets to something out of a fairy tale, something as grand as the universe conspiring to unite two souls, forever. It’s how it happened for your parents, being each other’s first loves. You figured, the same should happen for you.
You like Leigh, and that should be that. It shouldn't stop your world from turning, but it does.
“Liking Leigh is moot,” you say after some time. “It’s a bad idea from the start.”
Jules tilts her head. “Why is that?”
You let out a sigh, fiddling with the bracelet on your right wrist. “It’s just... there’s something between Leigh and Danny, right? And it doesn’t usually end up with the mistress and the wife together. Besides, Leigh hates me right now. Most obvious reason being that I stole Matt from her before he... before he was gone for good.”
Jules hums thoughtfully. “Sounds like you've been doing a lot of thinking.”
“It's all I've been able to do since I met her,” you say.
Jules glances at the slice of pizza on your plate, now cold and forgotten. “You gonna eat that?” she asks, nodding towards the lonely piece.
You shake your head, sliding the plate her way. “Good,” Jules responds with a grin. “I'll save this slice for Leigh, then.”
Your ears perk up at that. “You’re expecting her home?”
“Yeah, any minute now. She texted a bit ago saying she was on her way. Plus, she's not working too far from here today.”
“Oh? Where's she at?”
Jules is just about to answer when the front door swings open, revealing Leigh as she hurries inside, her eyes quickly finding yours. There's no mistaking it—she's seen your car. She throws you a pointed look as she heads upstairs, her message clear without saying a word. Then, she murmurs a quick, “We'll talk about this later,” to Jules, who simply snorts in response and starts tidying up the dining table.
The sound of Leigh slamming the door prompts you to rise from your chair, but it's clear you have no plan. Should you go after Leigh? It's precisely why you came here, but now, the wine's effects have faded. Your feet are getting cold.
“You're wrong, you know,” Jules drones, her back to you as she wets a towel under the sink. “About Leigh and Danny.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs. “I think she's with Danny as a form of revenge.”
You stare at her back, confused. “For Matt cheating on her?”
“Exactly. Matt was aware of Danny's feelings for Leigh. I knew about it, Leigh knew, and that's partially why she had such a strong dislike for him before she began to... well, you know,” Jules explains, her expression contorting slightly in distaste. “It's kind of absurd when you think about it, especially since Matt's no longer here. But Leigh holds onto her beliefs in the afterlife, so it's like she's putting on a performance for Matt's spirit or something.”
You look up at the ceiling, as if expecting to see through the hardwood floors. “And you're telling me this because...?”
“Because you've given up already,” Jules states matter-of-factly.
You're confused. “So, you don't approve of someone you've known for years, but you're okay with the idea of me, Matt's other woman, being interested in Leigh?”
Jules just shrugs again. “It's weird. Scandalous, even. Something none of us saw coming.”
(In your head, you wonder, ‘Who's ‘us’?')
“But when Leigh was hanging out with you, when you were attending her class, she wasn't with Danny much, I think,” Jules goes on. “And that’s enough for me.”
“You don’t even know me,” you argue weakly. Inside, you're kind of doing cartwheels because Jules doesn't seem to mind that you're into Leigh. Somehow, that feels like a win.
“I know Danny well enough. I've got nothing against him personally, but he somehow manages to bring out the worst in Leigh. My sister was… agreeable when you were around. She actually talked about you, even mentioned she thinks you've got gorgeous brown eyes.”
“She does?”
Jules cracks up, noticing your cheeks go pink. “Oh, absolutely. And I've got to say, seeing those eyes up close—they're kind of striking. Annoyingly so, even.”
Her tease draws a reluctant smile from you, a swarm of butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. It's comforting to know that there's at least something about you that Leigh notices.
“I should talk to her,” you say with resolve. 
“Yeah, you should,” Jules nods, her laughter settling into a warm smile. “I'm not playing Cupid or anything, but I think I like you, Y/N. Leigh could use someone like you around. Most people just back off when her less charming side shows up. When she’s intolerable. I've done it too, sometimes. But I can't really leave her hanging because, you know, she's family and I love her, so…”
Hearing Jules say those things about Leigh transforms her from someone intimidating into someone truly worth sticking around for. And if your feelings eventually lead nowhere and quietly fade over time, then at least you could be the kind of friend to her who doesn't run at the first sign of trouble.
“Jules?” you say, stopping at the foot of the staircase.
“Yeah?”
“I think I like you too.”
-
Approaching quietly, you've left your shoes by the stairs, the cool floor under your bare feet making you feel all the more vulnerable. Jules had given you directions to Leigh's bedroom—right at the end of the hallway. Downstairs, you hear the murmur of the TV; Jules has turned up the volume, probably more to give you and Leigh some semblance of privacy than for her own viewing pleasure.
When you reach Leigh's door, panic floods back in. You keep swallowing, but it's like the desert in your mouth won't let up. “I got this,” you mutter under your breath, trying to psych yourself up. You lean in, ear against the door, trying to pick up any sound. It's silent until you catch the ping of a laptop, followed by fingers typing away noisily. She might be at her desk, probably by the window, or maybe lying in some awkward, back-breaking position on her bed. Knowing she's awake strips away your last excuse to back down. You lift your hand, pause for a split second, then tap lightly on the door. Your heart's pounding so loud, you're half-convinced Leigh can hear it from the other side. 
“Leigh?” 
No answer.
“It’s me,” you say a little louder. “Can we talk?”
She doesn’t answer. 
You don't want to push her into a corner, to demand her to open up when she's clearly not ready. But walking away without laying your feelings out isn't an option either. With a heavy sigh, you slide down until you're seated on the floor, back against her door. It's a small surrender, but it doesn't feel like defeat. Not yet.
“I know you can hear me,” you say, your voice steadier than you feel. “It's okay if you don't want to talk. Really, it is. But there's just something I need you to know.”
You take a deep breath before the plunge. Here we go.
“Look, you were right,” you start, whispering almost, as if you're sharing a secret with the wood of the door itself. “I did downplay what Matt and I had when you asked me. But, to be completely honest, I didn't even realize I was doing it at the time.” You run your finger along the wood grain of the door, savoring the texture against your skin. Unknown to you, Leigh is on the other side, sitting with her back pressed against the same spot, hugging her knees to her chest.
“By the time you came to me, I hadn't heard from Matt in three months. I was... sober from him, and whatever we had felt like a distant dream. I can’t recall the specifics, just that it was... nice. And maybe intense at the moment, but looking back, it was more about lust and similarities than anything.”
Slowly, you lean your head against the door, closing your eyes as you continue, “I'm not telling you this to make excuses for myself. I don't want to justify the deceit. I just... I need you to understand that any impact he had on me was gone long before you and I met.”
Opening your eyes, you glance down at the space under the door, hoping to see a shadow, a sign that Leigh is right there, listening. She is, but you miss it. The hallway is dark and there’s little to no light coming from Leigh’s bedroom. 
You keep talking, now more for yourself than for her. “If there was something real between Matt and me, it wouldn't have vanished so effortlessly. And he... he likely wouldn't have just vanished either, leaving me in the dark without any explanation.”
The door flies open suddenly just as you finish your thought. With no time to react, you're sent tumbling backwards, landing with a thud on the floor. The shock of the fall momentarily stuns you, but it's the sight of Leigh, upturned, that really takes your breath away. Her eyes are hard, her expression unreadable, but it's clear she's been listening to every word.
“You could've mentioned he slept over at your place. Not having sex with him that night didn't mean it was a dismissible detail,” Leigh says, her voice thick. “Do you know how intimate it is to sleep at someone's house and not have sex? To just be there, for the sake of being there?”
You're on the ground, staring up at her. You know it now. Dressing her wounds, that was intimate. Her hand correcting your posture during yoga, that too was intimate. Sharing burgers in the car, intimate.
Whenever you do anything, or find yourself somewhere, just for the chance to be with someone—that's intimacy right there.
“I—I don’t know why I didn’t tell you,” you say. You silently promise to her that lying about your feelings for her will be the last lie you ever tell her.
“You don’t know?” Leigh sneers. “Then think!”
You push yourself into a sitting position, unsure if you should get inside her bedroom or inch back outside. In this position, you're acutely aware of the power imbalance—her standing, you on the floor. It compels you to admit some of your truth.
“I didn't want to cause you any more pain than I already have,” you say softly. “Which is funny because my very existence is likely a constant reminder of that pain.”
Something shifts in the air. You’re the first to look away and you end up just waiting for Leigh to kick you out for good. But she doesn't do what you brace for. Getting a read on her has always been like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands, and it feels like it always will be.
Slowly, Leigh extends a hand to help you up. You take it, feeling the cool dampness of her skin. 
Just as she’s about to shut the door again, she stops short, locks her eyes with you, and says,  “I can handle pain just fine.”
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jester-lover · 8 months
Note
Reverse of the ask where TWST bois pick the reader up: Reader is surprisingly strong and scoops *them* up.
I think the bigger the dude, the funnier, but Riddle’s reaction would be hilarious to me as well.
Somewhere in the distance, Ashton Vargas just found his new favorite student…
OG Post! Something similar for the Jack fans!
Buff Girlfriend Casually Lifting Them
Featuring! - Riddle, Jack, Malleus, Sebek
CWs/ Fem! Reader, fluff, humor
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Riddle
“Unhand me at once!”
Riddle is shocked, appalled, and redder than a strawberry the second he feels you hook your hands under his knees and neck and pick him up like a bride. His hands immediately flail around and land around your shoulders, increasing his embarrassment tenfold.
His demands quiet down once the shock of the situation soaks in. His girlfriend is lifting him up and carrying him around like he weighs nothing. He has always been aware that you’re physically strong, but he didn’t know you were this strong!
Riddle usually won’t like being carried, but on the rare occasion, after a long day of school and his duties, he’ll ask for a piggyback ride back to his room. He’ll use a very standoffish tone while asking, but the way that he presses his head against the back of your shoulder lets you know he likes it.
Jack
He is so flabbergasted. Jack is in shock.
While he is aware that you’re into fitness—maybe the two of you even train together—he never knew you were this swole.
Jack is blushing; if you look close enough, his hands are shaking. He’s just realized he’s found the ideal woman for him—kind, gentle, who could break him in half like a pixie stick…
Bragging isn’t in his principles, but he might have to gloat a little bit with his track teammates when you’re literally running around with him thrown over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I mean, you’re not even exerting that much energy; he’s astounded!
Jack will (very quietly) ask for you to lift him again, just because he can’t believe it and he needs confirmation that he didn’t just make up the situation in his brain.
“Wanna join me for my morning run? It’ll be good cardio.”
Malleus
He’s getting the princess treatment. Very happy to know he’s your favorite lizard.
Since Malleus is very tall and imposing, he’s not used to such blatant displays of affection.
Having a physically stronger girlfriend would be a point of great pride for Malleus, particularly if you were a human, because then your strength would have been something you'd worked hard on. Something you’ve earned.
Being carried around is no problem for him; he may laugh a little at your strange human whimsy, but he happily agrees to being carried about at any time.
By any time, I mean any time. You could pick him up in the middle of a crowded campus hallway, and he’d just wrap his arms around you, place his head on your shoulder, and let you lead the way.
“Child of Man, be sure to drop me off at my alchemy class; perhaps I’ll let you pick me up and take me to Spelldrive Practice afterwords…”
Sebek
“How dare you, human!”
Sebek is appalled at the absolute gall you’ve got to have to do something so unabashedly romantic; don’t you see he’s too repressed for something so affectionate?
His face turns so red, and he tries to shake out of your ridiculously strong vice grip. Once he leaps off of you, get ready for an hour-long lecture. Sebek is shaking in his boots, explaining to you how inappropriate your actions were and how if you wanted his attention, there were better methods.
Midway through, he kind of realizes how hot it was that you were literally able to pick him up and carry him away like it was no problem, which makes Sebek quieter than you’ve ever seen him before, contemplating his words.
He quietly asks you to pick him up again because he wants to test your human endurance! (Ignore the way his eyes lock in on your defined shoulders, okay?)
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nrdmssgs · 3 months
Note
Idk bout you but like hear me out on helping nikto get dressed like securing the man to go on a mission while you stay behind on base yk like helping him wear his gear and kissing his mask I mean what who said that? 🤨
Masterlist
Oh love, in this house kissing your man's mask is a must.
You two don't share many words. You - because you were never a particularly chatty type. Nikto for his part tries to keep his voices to himself, and any conversation would mean another chance to spit out too much.
Yet the connection between you two is obvious. It grows inevitably as you learn your ways around each other. Tread carefully, observe, memorize, analyze.
You don't need to ask him, when does his scarred face burn and itch. You already remember: it happens before the big operations. Nikto stirs himself up weeks prior to that, exercises more than usual, loses his usual appetite, barely sleeps. There is a certain cost to his extraordinary performance on a battlefield, and this is it. The last hours before the mission, he is so pent-up, his nerves eat him alive. It's when his old scars begin to hurt and torture Nikto. He clenches his teeth and hides his eyes from you.
You saw him trying his usual meds and salves before. But the pain is all in his mind, so nothing can fix it. Or so he thought before you touched him for the first time.
It feels as if you knew, where to press to relieve the tension. At first Nikto turns away, avoiding showing you the disfigured part, although this is almost meaningless since deep scars cross him from cheek to cheek, from lips to the forehead. Little by little he succumbs to your touch, leans in and buries his face in your hands.
He craves your touch. There are just not enough words to express it yet.
There is a small spot nestled between his upper vertebrae. You recall that if you press into it with your thumbs just so, he will groan and tilt his head back, murmuring soft, appreciative obscenities as you relieve the pressure on the nerve.
It sends him somewhere deep into the safety and tranquility. Nikto knew hands that could gift him pleasures before yours, but only you can bring him into another state of mind.
All because you don't treat him mechanically as one would treat a random lover. You observe. You learn.
You have meticulously learned how he prefers to wrap his arms, from his knuckles to midway up his elbow: the precise spots where he folds and knots the banding, and where he carefully tucks the ends to prevent them from coming loose during firing or fighting. Given the severe damage to the skin on his arms, he cannot endure the constant abrasion of coarse textiles. This knowledge, acquired through careful observation, surprises him now as you kneel and gently take the banding from his fingers, setting to the task with practiced precision. He watches you in silent awe. How is it possible to be this perfect? How are you this close to him, even though not in his embrace?
Nikto takes on his balaclava and the hood with straps, meanwhile you touch your fingers against a mask, lying on a bench next to him. He doesn't like it, when you take it. Not because he doesn't trust you - he would rip his own heart out and give to you, no questions asked, should you asked him to. But there are faces, grins, whines, laughter, screams, voices behind this mask. All the ugly, grim things, he tries to keep away from you.
When your soft lips press against the scratched black surface of its forehead, Nikto frowns. A hideous grimace of plastic and metal, yet you kiss it?
He remains quiet until you hand it to him. Only then he breaks the silence.
"Because it's prettier than me?"
You help him fasten all the belts and answer. Your words pass his ears and settle straight into his heart.
A relief. A tight lump growing in his throat. A warmth pulsing deep.
"Because it's a part of you."
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julietsbody · 9 months
Text
beg me — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : you ask coriolanus to leave your boyfriend alone, and he will, at a cost.
tags : 18+! MDNI! cheating, reader has a bf, blowjobs, begging, face slapping, facefucking, explicit consent, spit kink
a/n : this is something i was been silently working on before my break.. so im finally posting it
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coriolanus snow always thought he was above everyone, he was an asshole, especially in college. frats didn’t accept him because he had an eyebrow piercing and refused to take it out, he also liked to give himself stick and pokes, and he wore ‘disturbing’ t - shirts. what about cannibal corpse is disturbing?
and coriolanus could never go through his problems by himself, god no. are you stupid? that idea is revolting to him.
so he takes it out on the people around him, more specifically, the guy in his computer science class. if you thought you knew what a nerd was, you clearly had never met this guy. it was almost pathetic. so who wouldn’t bully him? and coriolanus knows, oh it’s not highschool anymore grow up! no, he thought it was funny to pick and pull at the man who wears ‘science rocks!’ shirts.
what he never expected, though, was that the man had a girlfriend— and that the same girlfriend would wound up at his doorstep one day, furiously knocking at his dorm door.
“one second!” he grumbles, rolling himself out of bed, naps in between classes were always his weakest moments. his clothes were disheveled when he stood, did he sleep in his jeans from earlier— maybe.
you start knocking again, and he audibly groans, running his hand over his face as he approaches his door. he finally opens it midway through your knock, only to find you, a girl dressed in pink and frills, a sorority girl. what a fucking joke.
clearly you thought the same because you stared at him like you didn’t even want to be there— so why were you?
“hello?” he mumbles out, voice raspy from his sudden awakening.
you stare at him for a minute, eyes trailing down to the dog - tag that hangs around his neck, his korn shirt— what the fuck is a korn, and his messy, loose jeans. your eyes snap back up to his face when he clears his throat, “i need to talk to you.”
he squints his eyes at you, “okayyy.. why?”
“because you won’t leave my boyfriend alone,” your arms cross, and coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about, really,” he defends.
you counter it, “you don’t?”
“i just said i didn’t,” at least his attitude matches the look on his face, bitter and confused.
“you won’t stop bothering him, like seriously— he tells me about it all the time, do you have to be such an asshole?”
he pauses, “i think you’ve got the wrong dorm, doll.”
“doll?” you scoff, “i’m josh’s girlfriend, you dick.”
his eyes widen as his lips part into a surprised smile, laughing shortly, “this is a joke, right?”
“no, it’s not— leave my boyfriend alone,” you look so entirely serious.
he’s not buying it, “..okay— i’ll leave your ‘boyfriend’ alone.”
he moves to close the door in your face, but just before it inches to it’s close, your hand pauses it, flat against the wood as you push it back open. you look angrier now, he can’t really tell when you also look so sweet, “do you not believe me?”
“do you want me to be honest?”
“i would like for you to be,” you tilt your head to side ever so slightly.
he tips his chin up, a sign of his entitlement, “i don’t think that guy could pull anyone, let alone you.”
“well, isn’t that sweet,” you suck your teeth, “i’m serious, snow, leave him alone.”
“what if i don’t want to?” his eyebrow cocks, piercing shining in the hallway light.
“you’re gonna want to,” is that a threat?
“how come your boyfriend isn’t saying this himself? does he not have a mouth?”
“we both know you wouldn’t listen to him,” you frown, and he nods his head slightly.
“so, you really want me to leave him alone?” a small smile is curving his lips, again, that godforsaken cheshire cat smile.
“i do, i’m sick of hearing about you,” you snap back.
“is that so?” his voice suddenly becomes softer, “i think you should beg.”
“what?”
“beg me to leave your boyfriend alone.”
you hesitate for a second, “are you fucking stupid?”
“right,” he scoffs, moving to push the door to a near close, “i’ll keep bothering your boyfriend, then.”
you immediately push it to an open again, “no, no— fine, god.”
you push your way into his dorm, rolling your eyes and allowing your lips to part once more, “so embarrassing— i can’t be seen with you.”
“i’m embarrassing? how?” he cocks his head to the side, pushing his door to a close.
“look at yourself,” your arms cross, and he only smiles.
“aren’t you supposed to be begging?”
“god— you’re such a fucking weirdo,” you sigh, “please, leave my boyfriend alone.”
he hums, “that’s not begging.”
“come on— just, give him a break,” you frown up at him, those doe eyes, god, maybe he should tease your boyfriend more so you can come over more often.
“you’re not begging me, why should i leave him alone if you aren’t doing what i ask?” he pushes at his rings, twirling them around on his finger.
you pout ever so slightly, finally caving so he can shut up, “please, coriolanus, please, just leave him alone.”
“get on your knees,” he smiles so sweet it makes you sick.
god, what if josh heard about this.. “are you psychotic?”
“not sure,” he shrugs simply, “i need you to properly beg for me to actually consider it.”
you look away from him as you sigh, finally moving to your knees in front of him. he takes a step closer, smile widening at how easily you do what he asks, despite your slight pushback, you still did it. his lips part to speak again, “look at me.”
you do exactly that, making him chuckle, “leave my boyfriend alone, snow.”
“i’m not hearing please,” his fingers graze your chin.
“please, leave my boyfriend alone— please,” the cool of the hard floor is already forming bruises on your pliant skin.
he notices the way you shift uncomfortably, but also, something about being in this position has your thighs rubbing together. to be on your knees in front of someone, especially someone you heard many rumors about, rumors akin to him having a big dick, being a good fuck. you had always wanted to know, really, if they were true— you just never said anything. but josh, your boyfriend, sweet josh, you can’t do that to him.
can you?
his thumb rubs against your bottom lip, making you shiver, and suddenly the thought of josh becomes a distant memory.
“you know— if i do leave josh alone, ‘m gonna be bored,” he mumbles, voice dripping of salted dark chocolate, “who will i have left to bother?”
“find someone,” your lips purse around his thumb, “anyone.”
“anyone?” he chuckles lightly.
“anyone, whoever you want,” you sound desperate.
his pants feel tight, “whoever i want?”
you nod quickly, making him speak again, “what if i said i wanted you?”
you swallow, he feels it, as much as he feels your cheeks heat up— in his green eyes, you’re reminded of josh’s once more, “but josh..”
“what about him?” he sounds so fucking innocent, “you should forget about him.”
“i don’t know, snow—“ but you do know, you know that you would want nothing less than to suck his dick.
“tell me the truth, doll, because you keep looking at my dick,” he smirks knowingly.
god, he was insufferable, “i— i want to, i want to forget about him, i want..”
“want what?”
“you.”
“oh, sweet girl,” he dips his thumb into your mouth, admiring the way your lips immediately close around it.
eventually he pulls his hand away, helping move to tug his pants down, moving to do the same to his boxers but you quickly shift to help him, moving the boxers down his legs and admiring his cock— did he have a fucking prince albert piercing? the length of it made your breath hitch, as well as the girth, you could already feel the ache of your jaw.
he doesn’t even have to ask you to open your mouth, you’re already doing it, hand placed at his base to hold his dick in place as you place sloppy open mouthed kisses on his dick. his eyebrows furrow at the pleasure that courses through his veins at such a simple, teasing, action, “fuck, didn’t even have to ask you—“
he’s cut off by a grunt when your tongue suddenly trails on the underside of his cock to his tip, jaw falling slack so you can take him in with surprising ease. his hand moves to place itself on your hair, threading through it and tugging your head to bob on his cock, the sounds of saliva bubbling in the back of your throat as his tip hits it becoming his favorite. to hear you gag and sputter on his cock until he pulls away and admires your already messed up makeup, wow, josh should’ve sent his girlfriend sooner.
“so fucking pretty, hm?” he taps your cheek ever so slightly, then smack! he slaps you across the face, surprised by the way you smile at it, “you should leave josh— for me, i could treat you better.”
you shake your head, which only makes him chuckle, moving your mouth back on his cock. you take him so well, it’s addictive the way your moans vibrate against his tip, the sensitivity of your throat, the way your tongue lies flat on the underside of his cock, tracing the vein there. and god, you loved the way you could feel his piercing on your tongue.
to fall for an emo man like coriolanus, it was humiliating, but to be here on your knees, coriolanus’ hips thrusting harshly into your mouth, words can’t even express the amounts of embarrassment you felt. he pauses for a second after you’re coughing on his dick, only to lean down and spit on your face. you groan around his cock, pulling off, “you’re fucking crazy—“
you move to wipe it off, he frowns, “don’t wipe it off, doll.”
“‘m not gonna have your disgusting spit on me,” you snap back.
he fake pouts, “that’s not nice, doll.”
you roll your eyes, moving back on to his cock, looking away from him. he grunts, speaking again, “look at me.”
and you do, you look so perfect it has his dick pulsing in your mouth already. he slaps your face once more before his thrusts get sloppier, eventually pushing your head down to his base, cock twitching inside of your mouth as white spurts coat the back of your throat. he groans into the air, only pulling out when you slap his thigh.
you cough, trying to catch your breath as he moves to tug his boxers and jeans back over his softening cock.
“are you going to leave him alone now?” you move to a stand, glaring at him, as if you weren’t just sucking his dick.
he shrugs, “maybe.”
of course he won’t.
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princessbrunette · 9 months
Note
reader upset bc things just aren’t going her way today, she woke up on the wrong side of the bed after not getting much sleep, and her hair didn’t turn out the way she wanted it too, she couldn’t find her favorite skirt and she broke her nail. rafe takes her with him to run errands and handle business, and she’s quiet and upset the whole time and she just needs her rafe but he’s so busy right now. eventually something small happens like she trips over her feet or spills something over herself and had a meltdown, bc we all get overstimulated and have meltdowns sometimes :/
i can’t explain to you how much i relate to this :(( have too many days like this one !!
you’d be quiet for the most part, more quiet than usual but rafe isnt gonna necessarily question it, just chalking it up to being in a bad mood. by the time you’ve made it to the car, everything’s overstimulating you. you don’t like the songs that keep coming on the aux, the car is rumbling too loud, rafes being quiet too so it’s just setting you on edge thinking somethings up, it’s just too much. but worst of all, you were hungry.
rafe had some errands to run, but he’d promised you fries, mentioned casually earlier which he’d probably forgotten about. you were holding onto that fact, knowing being fed would greatly cure a large part of your foul mood.
you’d passed the midway point, rafe completing another task on behalf of his father before you finally speak up— voice croaky from lack of sleep and lack of use. “can we get food now?”
he glances at you, reversing out of his spot, looking over his shoulder with his mouth parted in concentration. “huh? oh — uh, yeah, yeah soon. i left somethin’ in the boat so i gotta go pick it up.” he speaks casually.
for some reason, it’s your tipping point.
“no… you said we’d—” you’d go to argue, but suddenly burst into tears, crying into your hands. once you start, you quickly realise you can’t stop, the overstimulation and every issue you’d faced that day catching up with you. rafe frowns in confusion at you, eyes darting between the road and your hunched over form.
“hey, what are you — why are you crying?” he asks, and you can’t answer— far too upset. he sighs, thinking for a moment you’re being a tad dramatic, so used to being spoiled by him that you’re crying over something so minor. he doesn’t like seeing you so upset though, so he sighs and starts to turn his wheel, the car hitting a U-turn. “alright, hey, alright. i’ll get your damn fries. shit.”
it’s only when you don’t calm down he actually starts to get a little concerned. you cry the entire journey, not lifting your head from your hands— and all he can do is spare you worried glances before ordering your food. he parks in the lot, a wad of napkins from the food bag in his clutch and turns to you.
“look at me, kid. please?” he instructs, and you reluctantly do. blinking through gloopy mascara and sniffling your snotty nose shamefully. he dabs at your face, holding the napkin to your nose and quietly telling you to blow. he then sets it aside, and places the fries in your lap, running his hand over his chin and jaw thoughtfully for a moment.
“m’sorry.” you break the silence, staring down at your fries. he sighs, shaking his head.
“what happened, hm? was it me? did i fuck up?”
“no rafe, just got overwhelmed. im having a bad day.”
he stares at you for a moment, turning his body to face you more. “what do you… what do you want me to do?” he asks, his own finger gently prodding at his chest. he was trying to understand you, trying to be a good boyfriend. you think for a moment, glumly staring at your hands.
“i wanna go home and just be with you.” you sulk. he nods slowly, staring off out the window.
“y’know i got shit to do though, baby. can’t just… drop everything, you know? got people countin’ on me. m’handling shit today. ” he squints, hating that he has to be tough— but makes his voice gentle enough to soften the blow.
“i know.” it comes out as a broken whisper, and he can tell you didn’t like his answer. he stares at you, helpless, before speaking once more.
“eat your fries, and then you’re gonna go lay down in the back and have a nap, okay? think you need one. we’ll figure it out from there, a’ight?” he places a hand on your shoulder, tilting his head down and staring into your eyes, hoping what he’s saying is good enough. you think for a moment before nodding and he smiles, patting your cheek.
“alright, that’s my girl. proud of you, okay baby?”
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