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#and she talked about her needing time liking someone and then more time to fall in love
a-b-riddle · 22 hours
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In the mood to write angst. Imagine you’re the conscientious observer who accidentally sees how your team talks about you behind your back.
Your morals were… complicated. You didn’t believe in killing anyone. Your faith told you that killing someone is wrong and even if it’s to save your life, handling a gun is something that doesn’t sit well with you. You’ve been to gun ranges. Mandatory for your position in the military that you have basic fire arm knowledge. But having something in your hands that could so easily take a life made you uneasy.
You were pescatarian, but tried to limit meat. Cried anytime you saw chickens in those trucks heading toward their demise. You fed stray cats around your house back home. You tried to be kind and cherished life in all most of its forms. The exception being garlic butter shrimp that was too good to give up and anytime of bug resembling a cock roach. And yes, palmetto bugs were still cock roaches.
And wasps.
Fuck wasps.
At the same time, you were pro-choice. Initially, you were pro-choice for other women, but you didn’t think you would have the strength to get an abortion. It wasn’t until you were holding your friend’s hand as she got her D&C that your views on your own body autonomy changed. It didn’t have to be medical to be necessary.
But you still refused to hold a weapon. Which is why even though you were a very talented medic, you were always judged for not carrying any sort of defense while in the field.
But no one on base would dare say anything to you about it. At least not to your face…
You got stuck instructing a training seminar when your phone continued to buzz in your back pocket. But even with the consistent messages, you didn’t falter by showing the newest members how to give basic first aid until health could arrive.
Nearly two hours later, you finally fish your phone out to see what’s going on.
Dozens of text messages in a group chat between you, Captain Price, Johnny, Kyle and Simon. You had gotten close to them over the last few months. You were halfway through your contract and were already dreading leaving knowing they were staying behind until the job is done.
You open it, your phone taking you to the first unread message.
Cpt.: Hows the arm healing up?
Soap: Fine. Hen did a good job of keeping the sutures nice and even. Should barely scar.
Gaz: Wouldn’t have a scar if she just fucking carried.
Soap: You think she honestly would even know what to do with a gun if you gave her one Garrick 😂
Ghost: Still think she’s a liability. Someone who won’t raise arms against an enemy isn’t meant to be on the team.
Cpt: Already tried. Laswell says we need the numbers. As long as she does her job there’s nothing I can do. We can’t be down a medic and it’s either her or nothing.
You shook as you continued reading the conversation.
Liability. Coward. It went on and on about how weak you were. Why couldn’t you just carry a small pistol instead of expecting everyone else to keep you safe.
It then switched to your personality. No one should be that happy. Annoying. A yapper. Couldn’t get a word in most of the time.
On and on they went until you realized they spoke so freely because they didn’t realize you were in this group chat. What did they say when you weren’t around?
You felt like a fool having extending more than just trying to be a civil coworker, but a friend. Taking on tasks that weren’t your responsibility simply to help them.
Getting a floral arrangement delivered for Johnny’s sister after she had given birth. Talking on the phone to the nursing home where Price’s mother resided trying to sort out her insurance. Taking priority Kyle when he was injured after falling out of a plane (both times) over your other patients. And always having the electric kettled going in the morning so Simon could have his tea without waiting too long.
You were helpful. Just because you had one boundary didn’t mean their words held any merit. But still you couldn’t help the deep feeling of just… betrayal? Rejection? You weren’t sure there was a word fitting enough to sum up how utterly stupid you felt.
Maybe they were right. This wasn’t a civilian setting. This wasn’t just life and death for your patients, but for you. You were out in the field with no form of protection except from others.
You weren’t abandoning your morals. You couldn’t. Not when every fiber of your being told you to remain steadfast. There was only one solution.
You didn’t have much to pack. Uniform was issued to you. Your stethoscope and some other tools came out of your own pocket. Your laptop, phone, charges. You packed all your lounging clothes and miraculously everything fit into a military duffle. Which wasn’t actually anything impressive given how big those things are.
You were confident in your decision even if it made you feel like a failure.
As you stood outside the office door you returned back to the group chat. One by one you proceeded to block all of them. You knew when you left the group they would know that the notification would pop up and they either wouldn’t give a shit that you finally knew what the actually thought of you or they tried messaging you to make amends to cover their asses. You weren’t sure which was worse.
Once you had blocked the last one, you left and knocked on the door that you had been idling in front of. A faint ‘come in’ was granted before you walked through.
“Hey, Kate.” You greeted. “Can we talk?”
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itneverendshere · 2 days
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reader maybe having a dad, like jj’s? very manipulative and controlling, sometimes it’s physical. and he comes out unexpected while rafes there
okay so i was planning to write off her parents as dead but this made me change my mind a little, hope you enjoy <3
wash the sins out of that house - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
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The sound of cartoons played low in the background, mixing with the faint clink of a fork against a plate. 
Rafe leaned back against the worn-out couch in your sister’s living room, watching as you flipped pancakes at the kitchen counter. Your sister’s kid, Milo, was glued to your leg, like always, babbling about some superhero show. The smell of breakfast filled the house, making it feel more like home than his own ever did.
Every little thing you did just made him fall more, if that was possible. He was always looking at you like that, like you were some kind of miracle.
It wasn’t just how good you were with Milo or how much you cared about everything and everyone. It was how much weight you carried without ever complaining, how you made everything seem easy even when he knew it wasn’t. You’d been staying here ever since the storm ripped through your house a few months back. 
Your sister was cool. Single mom, strong like you, but in a quieter way. She worked double shifts, and left you to help with Milo most of the time. Not that you ever complained, even after the long shifts, you loved to babysit. You were used to this shit—being the rock. Probably why you hadn’t freaked out when your house got leveled. You just rolled with it, found a place with your sister, and moved on like it was no big deal.
He’d been staying over more and more, crashing on the couch when he was too tired to drive back to Tannyhill. At first, it was just because he wanted to be near you when you couldn’t sleep over at his. But now… it felt like more. Like he could see himself living with you right away.
You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring like an idiot. “You good?”
“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, leaning forward. “You need help or something?”
You laughed, shaking your head as you flipped another pancake. “You? In the kitchen? That’s rich, baby.”
“Hey, you never complain about my pancakes.”He shot you a grin, but it faded when Milo tugged at your shirt, asking something in that tiny voice of his. 
You crouched down, your voice soft as you reassured him, “Mommy will be back soon, okay? Just a couple more hours.”
You looked so at ease like you’d been raising kids your whole life. It did something to him—watching you like that. This tough, independent woman who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit, just… melting when you talked to Milo.
Rafe swallowed hard, not really knowing what to say. Every time he tried to picture your future together, it got fuzzy. Not because he didn’t want one. He already told you he did. But because he wasn’t sure if he deserved one with you. His life had been a mess half the time.
He’d hurt people. Done things.
But when he was around you, he didn’t feel like that entitled spoiled guy anymore. He felt like someone who could be better. For you.
The front door slammed open, and immediately, something was off. Rafe’s eyes shot from Milo’s cartoons to the guy who’d just staggered in. He could smell the booze before he even saw his face.
Who the hell?
You froze. The spatula in your hand hung mid-air as you stared at this man like you’d seen a ghost. But this wasn’t a ghost. This guy was real, and from the way he was swaying on his feet, he was about to make himself a problem.
“Some fucking daughters y’all are,” the guy slurred, his voice rough and soaked in alcohol. “Not inviting your old man over while he’s in town.”
Your dad? That was your dad?
Rafe’s mind spun. You never talked about your parents and he’d never asked because he wasn’t stupid. He could tell it was a touchy subject, just like his own dad was sometimes, so he never brought it up. He assumed they were gone and you only had your sister. He never imagined this. 
Not once had you mentioned your dad. And now here he was, stumbling through the door like he owned the place.
Rafe shot up from the couch, every muscle in his body tightening. Who the hell did he think he was, barging in here like that? You didn’t say anything right away, but your whole posture changed—your back straight, your pretty face like stone. You looked like you were bracing for something, and he didn’t like that one bit.
“Dad,” you said, flat and cold. “What are you doing here?”
He gave this ugly laugh, a mix of drunk and mean. “What, can’t a father check in on his daughters? Or are you too good for your family now?”
You didn’t even flinch. Didn’t say a word. Just stood there, still as a statue, while Milo clung to your leg, eyes wide, just as confused as Rafe felt.
Rafe stepped forward, putting himself between him and you. He didn’t care if this guy was your dad. He was drunk, stumbling, and saying things no father should be saying to his kid.
“Who the hell are you?” Her dad’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing, like he was sizing me up. “Rich boy? Boyfriend?”
He squared his shoulders, staring him down. “Rafe.”
“Rafe,” he repeated, laughing like it was some kind of joke. “Of course. She’d find herself a rich boyfriend. Always looking for the easy way out, huh?”
He had some fucking nerve walking in here, talking to you like that. Like Rafe was ever going to let someone run you down. He didn’t know anything about your relationship with your parents, but from the look in your eyes and the way you were gripping the edge of the counter, he was starting to get the picture. This wasn’t the first time your dad pulled something like this, clearly.
You grabbed his arm before he could take another step. “Rafe, don’t.”
Your voice was low, almost pleading. Not because you were scared, but because this was deeper than just a drunk guy running his mouth. This was something you’d been dealing with for years, and your boyfriend was just now getting a front-row seat.
Your dad sneered at you. “That’s right. Tell your little boyfriend to back off. You’re not so tough now, are ya? Always thinking you’re better than me. Always looking after your sister’s kid like you’re some kind of hero. But you’re not. You’re just like your mother. Weak.”
That’s when Rafe felt it. That surge of anger, that need to hit something.
No one talked to you ike that. No one.
He could feel his fists clench, chest tightening. He was ready to throw your dad out himself. But your hand tightened on his arm, and he looked at you. Really looked at you. You seemed tired, like you’d been through this a thousand times before, and you didn’t need him to step in. Not right now.
“Let him go,” you said quietly. “He’ll leave when he’s done.”
Rafe didn’t want to back off. Every instinct in him was screaming to throw this piece of shit out on his ass. But something in your voice, something in the way you were looking at him, made him stop. You weren’t asking for help. You were asking him to let it go. For now.
He swallowed the anger and stepped back, though he kept myself between you and your dad. He wasn’t leaving you alone with this guy, no way in hell.
Your dad’s sneer didn’t falter. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He swayed a bit before heading for the door, muttering under his breath. “Ungrateful little—"
The door slammed behind him, leaving the room dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made you realize just how loud things were a minute ago.
You exhaled slowly, like you’d been holding your breath the whole time. You turned back to the counter, flipping the pancake like nothing happened. But Rafe could see the way your hands shook just a little.
He stood there for a second, still running through everything that just went down. He’d never seen you like that before. And he didn’t like what he saw.
“Baby,” he said quietly, stepping closer.
You didn’t look at him. “He does that sometimes. Shows up, drunk, says whatever he feels like saying. Then he leaves. Same thing for as long as I can remember.”
Rafe didn’t know what to say. His mind was racing, trying to wrap around the fact that this was your life. You’d been dealing with that guy for who knows how long, and you never said a word about it.
“That’s not okay,” he said finally, his voice rough. “That’s not normal.”
You sighed, finally turning to face him. “Yeah, well. Now you met the whole family.”
You didn’t know what else to say.
There wasn’t much to say. This was just how things were for you. Your dad was a mess, and you’d learned to deal with it, ignore it even. There was no fixing this. Not really. At this point, it didn't affect you or your daily life that much.
“I should’ve asked,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “About your family, I mean.”
I shook my head, feeling the weight of it all. “I wouldn’t have told you,” I admitted. “Probably would’ve said he’s dead.”
You didn’t want to be that girl—the one with family baggage so heavy it crushed everything good in your life. You didn’t want Rafe looking at you like I were fragile or damaged. It was bad enough that you were as broke as it got. You’d just gotten used to him wanting to help, to be a little less independent, to let him take care of you and spoil you every once in a while.
This though? You never wanted him to find out. 
But now… he knew. He knew what you came from. And you couldn’t hide it anymore.
“I don’t care,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. Like he was trying to convince you and himself at the same time. “I don’t care about your dad. I care about you.”
You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your focus on the pancakes, the routine keeping you distracted. But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.
“I just… I didn’t want you to see that,” You finally admitted, your voice small and raw in a way you hated. “I didn’t want you to know how messed up everything is.”
Rafe moved closer, his body warmth seeping into your side as he leaned against the counter next to you. He didn’t try to touch you, though, and you were grateful for that. You weren’t ready for that.
Not yet.
“Messed up? Baby, have you met me?” He let out this soft, disbelieving laugh, but there wasn’t any humor in it. 
You glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes. And there it was—that soft, almost sad look he got sometimes when he thought about his family. About how his mom left and how his dad never really let him in. Ward Cameron was friendly enough with you, and he wasn’t a complete asshole to his son, but he was absent, not really caring about keeping a constant connection with his kids. It hit you then that maybe you two weren’t so different after all.
Maybe that’s why you worked.
But still, the shame stayed. The feeling that now that he really knew you, the ugly parts you kept hidden, he might not stick around. Guys like him didn’t stick with girls like you, right? Despite him doing the exact opposite until know.
“This changes nothing, okay?” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying not to spook me. “Not with me.”
He wasn’t looking at you like he was about to leave. His eyes were steady, clear. He didn’t look freaked out or like he regretted being here. He just looked… real. Like he meant every word.
 “This is a mess, Rafe. You saw it.”
“I don’t care,” he said, like he needed you to hear him. “I don’t care about any of that. None of it changes how I feel about you. I love you.”
You bit your lip, turning your attention back to the pancakes because if you didn’t, you were afraid you might cry. You weren’t the crying type, but after everything, your dad showing up like that, and Rafe not running for the door—it was a lot. Too much, maybe.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix anything,” you said softly, flipping the last pancake and turning off the stove. “You can’t fix my dad or the way things are. I don’t want you to try.”
“I’m not trying to fix anything,” Rafe said, stepping closer to you now. “I’m just… I’m here. With you. That’s all I want.”
You felt his hand brush against yours, hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if you were ready to be touched. But when you didn’t pull away, his fingers laced through yours, and the warmth of it broke through the dread thad settled over you since your dad walked in.
Finally, you turned to face him, and there it was—that look in his eyes again. The one that said you were more than enough, that he saw you, really saw you, and wasn’t running for the hills. You knew him like the plam of your hand now, and he wasn’t bluffing. He never lied to you.
Your heart did this weird thing, like it flipped and dropped all at once. It was still a little scary to hear him say that. Scary because it meant he was sticking around, and as much as you it scared that was exactly what you wanted. For him to stay.
Because you loved him just as much, and you didn’t mind reminding him every day.
Milo broke the silence, tugging at your shirt again. “Is time f’pancakes now?”
You couldn’t help but smile at the innocence in his voice, the way he had no idea what had just gone down. You bent down to scoop him up, holding him close, the warmth of his growing body keeping you sane in the moment.
“Yeah, buddy,” you said softly. “It’s time for pancakes.”
Rafe watched you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This is why he knew you’d be a good mom one day. He kept that thought in the back of his mind every day since you gave him the bracelet on his wrist.
The way you picked up Milo and smiled—it calmed him down. The whole scene was so you—taking care of things, keeping it together even when everything around you was a mess.
“Eat up, kiddo,” you said, ruffling his hair as he dug in with way too much syrup. 
Then you glanced at Rafe again, your smile still lingering but more reserved, like you were still processing everything.
Milo was halfway through his second pancake, syrup smeared all over his little face, when he looked up at Rafe with those wide, innocent eyes.
“Hey, Rafey, can we go to the park after this?”
You were clearing the plates from the counter, and Rafe caught the quick glance you shot his way. You had a shift starting in an hour, and Milo probably knew it too, even if he wasn’t saying it.
He leaned back in his chair, wiping a bit of syrup off Milo’s cheek with the corner of a napkin. “The park, huh? What’re you thinking, swings? Slide?”
Milo grinned, syrup dripping down his chin. “Both! And the big jungle gym! You said I was big enough for it now, remember?”
He laughed, remembering the time a couple weeks back when Milo had looked at that massive jungle gym like it was Mount Everest, and Rafe told him he was totally ready to conquer it. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
You shot him a look as you grabbed your bag, ready to head out for your shift. “You sure about this?” you asked.
Rafe waved it off. “Yeah, no problem. Milo and I got this.” He grinned at the kid. “We’re gonna hit the park and maybe even stop for some ice cream after if your mom’s cool with it.”
Milo’s face lit up like Christmas morning, and you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re spoiling him, baby.”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but deep down he liked how easy it felt, like this was where he was supposed to be. “Eh, he deserves it.”
You walked over to where Rafe was still leaning against the counter, and without overthinking it, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
“Ewwww!” Milo groaned dramatically, scrunching up his face like he just witnessed the grossest thing ever. “Why do you always gotta kiss him like that?”
You and Rafe both burst out laughing, and Rafe shook his head, ruffling Milo’s hair. “Get used to it, bud,” he said, still smirking. “She’s gonna keep doing that.”
“Not in front of me,” Milo said, still looking completely disgusted but clearly loving the attention. “It’s so gross!”
You grinned and gave Rafe a playful tap on the chest. “Guess we’ll have to start sneaking around now.”
Rafe chuckled, pulling you in for another quick peck. “I can live with that.”
Milo let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically slapping his hands over his eyes. “Ugh! I’m never getting a girlfriend if that’s what you have to do.”
“Good,” you said, shooting him a wink. “No girlfriends until you’re thirty.”
Rafe laughed again, and Milo just sighed, completely over it. “Can we just go to the park now? Please?”
You shook your head, smiling at how easily the moment turned light again. “You two have fun. I’ll see you later.”
You headed out the door, the sound of your nephew still groaning in the background making you smile as you went, promising yourself you’d answer whatever questions Rafe had about your parents, the second you two snuggled up in his bed at night.
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Just Friends: Big News
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes
masterlist
Summary: You have a surprise for Bucky.
It’s giving
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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“Hey!” You bounce up to the table. It’s funny how Bucky can look so intent. So gloomy in the midst of the bustling cafe. He sits up as he puts his phone down on the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got great news!” 
“Oh?” His brows lower, “well, you’re double sugar frappa-whatever is melting.” 
He points across the table as you sit and roll your eyes. 
“If you tried it, you wouldn’t be making fun of me. They are delicious!” You put your purse in your lap and take a long slurp through the straw. You pop your lips off and let out and ‘ahhhhh’. You smile at him as he gives you that look. 
“I don’t take sugar in my coffee and you barely take coffee in your sugar,” he drones. 
You giggle. He's always so grumpy about the smallest things. 
“News?” He prompts dully. 
“Right,” you wiggle in your seat. “I got you a date!” 
He twitches and tilts his head, “a date?” He gives you a cautious look and shifts in his seat. “Uh...” 
“Yes! This lawyer lady I know. I met her at a trivia night way back and added her on Insta. Well, I saw her post the other day and I was like how did I not think of this before?” 
“Lawyer?” He mutters. “I... you’re setting me up with a stranger?” 
“It’s a blind date. It’s fun. She’s really established and smart and beautiful. Oh my god, she posted this picture of her in a bikini—I could never wear something like that.” You get your phone out and he sighs. 
“Wait, why did you do that?” He grits. 
You look above the screen at him, “well, you said the other day that you get lonely. That’s why you have Alpine, right? And she’s so sweeeeet,” you drag out the word in adoration, “but you need someone you can talk to. Who can talk back.” 
“We talk,” he insists. 
“Yes, but we’re friends. You need someone your own age. Or closer to.” 
“Wait, how old is she?” He wonders. 
“Aha, you’re interested,” you point at him accusatorily. 
“I’m asking questions.” 
“Right, she’s... fifty something? She doesn’t look it. Like you. You don’t look... uh... 1917... carry the one...”  
“Stop that,” he demands. “I know how goddamn old I am.” 
“Ha, yeah, sorry, I...” you scroll through your Insta friends. “Here!” You turn the phone to him and beam a smile in his direction. He glances at it for a split second and shrugs. He sits back and drinks his coffee.
“I’m not really... in that scene,” he says. 
“You should get out there! I mean, you can’t bring Sam and Steve to dinner all the time. You need someone--” 
“Is this what it’s about? Because I showed up at the restaurant?” He asks. 
“No, it’s-- I’m being a friend. You two are so alike and she loves old movies and motorcycles. I could never! I'd fall off or not tie my helmet right,” you chuckle. 
“Dreamy,” he growls. 
“Bucky,” you whine back. “You gotta get out and have some fun.” 
“We have fun,” he counters. 
“We do and that’s awesome—Oh, okay, how about, I got an idea! A double date.” 
“A double—you have... a boyfriend?” He taps the porcelain cup with his metal fingertip. 
“Ha, no way. But I could find someone to come along. Just so you’re not alone. There’s a few guys at the restaurant I’m sure would go for a free meal or I mean I know other cute girls. I’m not picky.” 
He closes his eyes and a line forms between his brows. He pinches his nose and squares his shoulders. “Where the hell did you come up with the idea that I wanted to date?” 
“I...” you sit back and your smile falls. His blue eyes flick open as he drops his hand. The dimple in his cheek ticks. “I’m sorry, I thought it was—I was... trying to be a good friend.” 
He stares at you and the stone slowly eases from his jaw. He looks down and back up. He huffs. 
“I’m sorry, dreamy,” he says, “it’s just been a while for me. Not that I haven’t thought of it, you know? But I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He shakes his head and glances around the cafe. “The last time I dance with a dame was a goddamn USO tour in 1945.” 
That hits you like a sixteen-wheeler. You didn’t know that. You didn’t think of it. He’s been in this world for a while and he’s handsome and a superhero! You just though he’d have lots of people interested. Charlize sure seemed excited when you asked. 
“And now you’re looking at me like I’m a loser because I haven’t kissed a gal in 80 years--” 
“No, you’re not a loser. If you are, then I am.” 
“Come on, you don’t gotta--” 
“Really. I never kissed anyone. Not lying.” 
He shakes his head and scoffs, “oh no, you’re not lying to make me feel better.” 
You put on your most sober face, “Bucky, I swear,” your cheeks burn and you put your hands on your neck. “I mean... it would be nice I’m sure but it just never came up.” He looks at you quietly. You squirm. “I know you can hear that I’m telling the truth.” 
“Yeah, I know,” he accepts at last. He crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, “fine. If you’re going to suffer through it, I will too.” He looks away as his jaw tenses, “if you’re going to keep pulling that puppy dog face, one day, it’s gonna wear off.” 
“Yes! Bucky’s got a date! Bucky’s got a date!” You sing out of tune. 
“Stop,” he snarls and narrows his eyes at you. You wince and giggle.  
“Yay!” You put your hands up in a demure celebration and he tuts. 
“You’re so cheesy,” he sneers. 
“And you’re a party pooper. No moping on date night, got it?” You try to put on a stern face and he squints even harder. Finally, he cracks and gives a chuckle. 
“You’re ridiculous,” he sniffs. “You and tough, don’t go together.” 
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her-favorite · 2 days
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♡ madison beer ♡
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the night was more ruthless than the day.
everything went wrong today. you had woken up by multiple messages from your coworker since you had slept past your alarm, you were barely ready when heading out the door, your boss decided it’d be a great idea to take all of his own problems out on you by giving you the worst work load, and on top of that, you had to stay late to finish it all.
but, now, as you lay in bed, eyes closed, sleep was the one thing you couldn’t reach, despite desperately needing it.
tossing and turning, the irritation slowly fading to dejection, you lie hopeless. a deep exhale leaves your lips as your eyes flutter open, staring up at the ceiling. today was the longest day you’ve had in awhile, so why isn’t your body letting you rid yourself of it? it’s like it knows how badly you wish to forget this, despite its own restraint to allow you to.
a fleeting thought passes by you as you lay awake: madison.
you knew your girlfriend was currently on tour, but you’ve expressed more often than not how much you miss her. the two of you text everyday, whether it’s a good morning message or something quick to let the other know how your day was going. today, you hadn’t gotten the chance. the day’s problems had hit you so fast, you hadn’t even been able to take a second to even collect your thoughts, let alone text your girlfriend.
reaching your hand over to your nightstand, you immediately unlock it and bring it closer to your face. biting on your bottom lip, you hover your finger over her contact. it was so late. your eyes flicker to the time on the top of your screen: 3:02 am. would she even be awake? what if she was trying to get sleep for her next performance?
letting out another sigh, you rest your head back against your pillow. so many restless nights without madison had taken a toll on you. when she was around, she’d have you out like a light. you never understood how it was so easy for you to fall asleep so fast when with her at night, but over time you realized that it might tie into the fact that you’ve grown so comfortable and safe around her. madison has always had such a calming presence to her - she’s always been gentle, no matter the situation. it was something you greatly admired about her and you’re only now realizing how much you’ve relied on it.
with one last intake of breath, you decided to bite the bullet and click on the call button beneath her contact. staring at the screen, you anxiously wait for something to change. it rings a few times before it connects. “baby? what’s wrong?” madison’s voice comes through your phone’s speaker, instantly relaxing you. your body seems to loosen as you lean all of your weight back against the mattress.
“nothing, just.. can’t fall asleep.” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes. even though they stung with exhaustion, the hours you spent trying to go to bed always failed.
your ears picked up on the way she hummed softly. there was light rustling in the background, as if she shifting her weight on her bed in her tour bus. the thought made you come out of your daze.
“m’sorry if i woke you, mads. i didn’t - ”
“mm, no,” she mumbles, sleep seeping through her tone. her voice was low, a little raspy and it made goosebumps erupt on your skin. “don’t apologize, sweet girl. i always wanna talk to you.” madison says. it was like she tries melting your heart. “can i facetime you?” she asks. instantly, you agree.
your lips curl up tiredly as soon as her face pops up on your screen. her face was bare of makeup, her hair a little messy from tossing around in bed and, oh, she’s never looked better. how someone can be just as breathtaking - if not more - like this was something that never made sense to you. she was utterly perfect, in every sense of the word.
“there’s my pretty girl.” madison hums, making your cheeks heat up as your smile widens. she giggles softly at your bashful reaction before laying her head back down on the fluffy pillow beneath her. “close your eyes, okay? ‘m’gonna be right here.” she coos gently. it immediately relaxed you.
following her soft orders, your eyes flutter shut after you prop the phone up beside you. getting comfortable, your head loosens it’s tense position, as well as the rest of the muscles in your body. your breathing evens out as you listen to the soft hum from madison, a gentle, almost angelic - scratch that, it was angelic, her voice always is - sound coming from her pretty pink lips. she always knew her singing soothed you.
only after a few minutes had sleep consumed you. madison didn’t know how tired you were, but to her, it was evident how much you needed it. and she was glad to see you out so quickly with her help - it always made her feel special that she can assist you in that way, despite you always making her feel special anyway.
“goodnight, baby.”
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requested!
my motivation’s been rocky (when is it not) so ive been pretty inconsistent with posting/requests lately, im so sorry!! :(( but i got a little bit today & got a nessa fic out andd this cute little blurb! hope you guys like it & ily!! <3
also usually my blurbs are shorter, but i kinda ran a little with this request bc it was too cute lol - also im too lazy to add tags </3
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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I keep thinking about jealous pining desperate Stiles and Derek
But like specifically Stiles Seeing Derek kiss someone else.
Stiles goes to visit Derek at his loft and he walks into a scene from a hallmark movie. Derek is kissing some random women under fairy lights to the back drop of a sunset. Stiles feels like someone plunged their hand through his heart and infected with body with ice. He genuinely feels sick to his stomach.
Derek looks down at said person with a soft smile, thinking that this time he can be safe. Before turning and seeing Stiles. They lock eyes and stiles is so visibly distraught. Like in the “where’s my dad scene”. One tear sliding down his face, hands clenched, grasping at his chest as if to rip his heart out.
And Derek knows he fucked up, but he doesn’t know how. All he sees is Stiles in distress and he needs to fix it. Stiles base scent has changed in a split second, now deeply intertwined with misery. He immediately moves from his love interest towards Stiles. But Stiles won’t let Derek comfort him. When Derek grasps his wrists, He tries to pull away.
Stiles is inconsolable at this point, choking on his sobs, barely able to breathe, barely able to see. This only makes Derek more desperate, he’s trying to pull stiles into a hug but Stiles keeps fighting him. Derek’s mind is racing with an explain on why stiles is falling apart in front of him. He thinks of Scott and the sheriff, praying that they are both still alive. He’s now genuinely begging stiles to let him help, to tell him what’s wrong, but stiles keeps pushing Derek away.
Derek’s love interest moves to help but stiles screams when she touches him. In his shock Derek stumbles away from Stiles, but not before ripping her arm off of Stiles.
The room freezes as the both of them are just staring at each other, stiles still sobbing, Derek shaking with adrenaline or fear he doesn’t know. Before Stiles turns and runs out of his loft.
And then nothing is like it used to be. Not like the summer they spent together, not even like the days of when they first met. Stiles is so different with him. Derek can’t remember the last time he saw stiles smile, or his eyes. All he can see is the eyebags that match his own and bitten bloody lips. He barely speaks to Derek and when he does is tone is soft and flat. They no longer banter back and forth with each other exchanging friendly insults. He is a ghost of the stiles that Derek knew.
Stiles doesn’t reach out and touch him anymore, not in camaraderie or comfort. Derek’s skin is devoid of stiles scent. His scent hasn’t changed from that night, now overcome with depression, pain, and tears. But even so Derek would still prefer to carry it with him. Derek feels like he is watching stiles die.
And Derek is ripping his hair out of his skull. He going insane. He has tried to talk to stiles but at meetings Stiles wouldn’t even look at him, and the Stilinski house has been lined with wolfsbane.
He goes to Scott and Lydia for advice, or understanding, fuck at this point he’d even take a stupid riddle. But scott just twists his lips in disappointment while Lydia glares at him with more hatred than she does Peter. Which is really saying something.
Derek is getting more frantic as days pass and nothing changes. It’s starting to affect the pack. The betas are more snappy and uncomfortable. Derek, himself is having a had time keeping his shift under control. Anger isn’t helping, if only it’s making it worse, more feral.
This costs Derek.
One night when the pack is fighting the next big bad. Derek’s sleepless nights and being distracted nearly gets him killed. He only wishes he could go back to that day, he would spend it, from sunrise to sunset with Stiles. Just making him laugh and smile.
The last thing he sees before he collapses is Stiles eyes in the moonlight, glistening with tears, same as that night. Beautiful all the same. But still Derek smiles. He is at peace knowing that this will be the last thing he sees.
But he wakes up, and all he has of stiles is traces of his scent on his skin. Derek roars in anguish. He can feel his betas trying to hold him down, he can hear them screaming but it all fades to white noise. He understands nothing at this current moment but loss. His wolf won’t stop howling.
He doesn’t fight the pull of the wolf, as he falls under his instincts. At the back of his head he knows that the people he is fighting are his pack mate, his own betas. The smell of blood affronts his senses. But nothing can be felt but violent grief.
The wolves in his den are wary and hesitant to fight him, as they should be. He can hear more wolves coming, and the deafening heartbeat of prey. He snarls at the prey that moves closer to him, fulling intending the go for the kill. As he pounces on the prey pressing him to the ground, teeth reaching to sink into his neck, he feels Stiles hands on his chest and he stops. The scent of Stiles is all around him, and Derek presses his face to his neck. Keeping Stiles pinned to the ground.
Thus way stiles cannot escape, cannot leave Derek grappling with the thought of losing him. Another wolf tries to get closer, reaching for stiles but Derek snarls at him. Stiles talks to the wolf, —
“Don’t worry about it Scotty, I got it from here”
“You sure dude?”
“Yeah, take the wonder trio and get out of here. We’re good.”
— as Derek pulls him into his lap, face still pressed into the junction between neck and shoulder. Not even willing to miss even the vibrations of Stiles voice. The wolves leave and Derek can finally relax and enjoy the presence of Stiles.
Derek feels overwhelmed, after weeks of not interacting with Stiles he is now surrounded by him. His hands run through Derek’s hair, his voice floats in the air, his scent finally intermingling with his own. This idea of losing the heat of stiles body pressed against his, makes Derek pull stiles even closer.
He doesn’t know how long they sit together but when he comes out of the fog. Derek breaks. A complete reversal of the night he lost stiles. Derek is crying in ernest, pleading and apologizing over and over again. Stiles is hesitant when he places his hands on Derek cheek. But when Derek leans into it Stiles begins to wipe the tears from his face.
They both face each other with open expressions. Stiles struggles to finds words to explain to Derek but all he can get out is a broken repeat of Derek’s own apology.
Derek felt as if his heart couldn’t know anymore pain, but as Stiles choked out an apology he could feel another piece break. Derek was just relived that stiles was finally letting him comfort him. Derek pressed their foreheads together and took a deep breath. Waiting for stiles to following along with his breathing. When they both calmed down stiles Slumped exhausted into his chest. With a heavy limbs Derek picked him up and carried him to the bed. Derek’s bed.
Neither of them need to speak durning this time. Derek was reluctant to set Stiles down, to let go for even a second. Instead he settled for watching Stiles as they both undressed and fell into the bed. Finally after weeks of sleepless nights, unrest and nightmares, they both full asleep wrapped in each others arms.
Derek refuse to open his eyes when he awakes. Afraid that when he does, Stiles will be gone and this would be a cruel dream. So he keeps them closed even when he hear Stiles breathe hitch. Even as he hears his heartbeat pick up. Even as stiles trails his fingers over Derek’s face. But he does open them as stiles presses a kiss to his lips.
Derek kisses him back just as fiercely. And this leads to teary confessions — “Don’t fucking lie to me Derek please, I can’t take it, don’t fucking kiss me out of pity.”
“Never out of pity, Mi Vida, I never wish to part from you even again, I love you, Mieczyslaw, truly. I can finally breathe again.” — They spend the day in bed, only leaving to eat. Even then they are always touching the other in some way.
After this Scott and Lydia pull Derek aside and threaten him with extreme violence. Peter joyfully welcomes stiles to the family.
(Honestly this was a whole train wreck. I also had another idea/version where this was happening during the nogistune. Where Stiles goes over to Derek’s loft as the darkness around his heart fills heavier that day and he sees Derek kiss someone else. The this is what finally pushes stiles over and allows the nogistune to fully take over. And Derek is forced to listen to the fox gleefully tell him that this action nearly broke Stiles. That while turning feral Derek has to learn that his actions cost him another person he loves. That because of this stiles and Derek are turning into twisted version of themselves. But honestly a fox should have never underestimated how far a wolf would go for their mate)
My bad for the long post but if you made it to the end, welcome to the trenches and suffering in the misery with me.
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suplicyy · 3 days
Note
heyy hope you’re gonna take this request, can you write something about canon kuroo confessing?
No time skip please. Like with a female reader which doesn’t act in love with him like the rest of the girls, she’s not pick me or stuff like this.
So Kuroo can do nothing but finally talk to her because he can’t stand the fact that she’s different from other girls.
I can’t really picture canon Kuroo confessing, that’s why I’m asking, I really like your writing!
Thank u so much
Notice me Please!!!
Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
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— Summary: He has his eyes on you, but for some reason you don't look back.
— Tags/Genre: Fem!Reader | Fluff
— Warnings: None!
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Kuroo drums his fingers impatiently on his desk, and with one hand resting on his chin, he stares at your figure across the classroom. You seemed quite entertained listening to music, which he has no idea what it is, but that sight makes him feel something inside him.
Frustration. He admit that he can't stand seeing you like this, because you're never like that when he tries to talk to you, and that made him feel a kind of jealousy, even if it was for something inanimate.
Every time you talked to him, you seemed indifferent, almost as if you were uninterested. Damn, why don't you look at him with the same twinkle in your eye when you're listening to something on your stupid headphones?
It's been a while since Kuroo started to have strong feelings for you, your heart skips a beat every time you pass each other in the school hallways, with Kuroo always looking back when you pass by him. But he never revealed that to you of course.
And no matter how many bad jokes or flirtations he told you, how many little gifts he left in your locker or on your desk in secret and then hinted that he was the one who left them there, it seemed like you never cared about his desperate actions for your attention.
At first, he thought this was just the way you acted, that you were more shy and reserved. But then he noticed the giggles you had with your friends, how talkative you seemed to be around them.
Now he thinks the problem is with him, that maybe you hate his presence, or just don't care about him.
He is a relatively popular person at school. His volleyball team reached the Nationals, which gave great prominence to all the team members, especially him. So it's no surprise to hear girls gossiping about Kuroo in the hallways.
To tell the truth, he didn't care much about it, sometimes he would even tease Yaku for having more fans than him, but that was it.
The only person he craves attention from is you.
But he doesn't know if you feel the same way, or at least care about his existence.
So that's why today would be the day he would bring the whole truth to light. His only option now would be to confess to you. Maybe it was a last choice made out of desperation and doubt, but he can no longer bear your indifference towards him.
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Your club activities are over, so you can finally go home after a tiring day of boring classes and uninteresting people.
Now, you were walking towards the school exit, but you soon stopped when you saw a certain boy with a peculiar hairstyle standing at the gate, almost as if he was waiting for someone.
You figured he was waiting for Kenma to go home since they were best friends, so you didn't care much about it and continued walking to the exit.
"Hey, [Name]!"
A familiar voice calls you. And as you turn to the side, you see Kuroo walking towards you, waving at you.
"Let's go home together, shall we?" you look around, and then you look at him again, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you going with Kenma?" "He said he needed to go somewhere else to buy a new game, something like that. And since I'm alone... I thought about going with you."
He gives you a smile that would make anyone fall in love immediately, but it never seemed to have any effect on you.
You looked at him with an enigmatic expression, almost as if you want to read him through his actions and words. "Um, sure." You say as you adjust your backpack hanging on your shoulder, soon starting to walk, with Kuroo by your side.
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Your house wasn't that far from the school, but in the situation you were in, it felt like an eternity had passed since you left the school gates and started walking.
Neither of you exchanged a single word, except for Kuroo who was humming some random song.
"Y'know..." he says after a moment, which made you direct your gaze to him, who was still staring at the path ahead.
"I once heard you listening to this song. You turn your music up so loud that anyone who passes by can hear it coming from your headphones." your expression changes to one of surprise.
"S-Seriously? I never realized that..." you laugh awkwardly, looking away to the floor.
"Yeah... but it's not because of music or headphones that I called you to walk with me." Kuroo stops walking unexpectedly, making you stop too.
Looking back, you notice his expression is more serious, almost as if he is a little nervous.
"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you."
His tone of voice seemed to have changed too, which left you confused, or even a little nervous, as much as you didn't want to admit it.
"I...like you, [Name]." As he uttered these words, it was almost as if a weight had been lifted from the boy's shoulders, his previously tense posture allowing himself the luxury of relaxing, even if for a brief moment.
However, the opposite seemed to manifest in you. Previously unconcerned about what this simple walk would offer you, it was almost as if your breath was suddenly caught in your throat. Your heart soon feels like it's leaving your body, hammering in your chest in a fast, nervous rhythm.
"Huh?" you say in disbelief at what you heard. Shock quickly turns to annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. "Look... don't think this kind of joke is funny, because you won't hear me laugh about it."
"Joke? Why would you think that?" Kuroo says this right after with a nasal laugh.
He walks closer to you, and you instinctively step back, until your back is in contact with a large tree that was close to the sidewalk. He stops right in front of you, and looks at you with a touch of doubt, almost as if he had heard something incredible.
"Why do you think I would make fun of something like that? You- my feelings for you... would never be a joke to me." he says with an affectionate tone, his eyes softening for a moment as he maintains eye contact with you.
"Maybe this could have been just a challenge your friends arranged for you, like in those cliché movies." your tone conveys sarcasm, but with a touch of bitterness "Or maybe some pretty girl rejected you, and is now looking for solace in anyone even remotely close to you..." "Or even-"
Your words are cut off as you feel Kuroo's lips land tenderly on your cheek. His hand reaches out to cup the other side of your face, and the other lands on the tree behind you, pinning you there.
"I like you, [Name]." he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "And I will tell you this until you can't prove otherwise."
Kuroo takes his hand off the tree and takes your hand, then looks at you seriously. "And I mean it."
You feel your cheeks heat up, but you quickly compose yourself, and a small smile appears on your face, but this time it's genuine.
"Hmm, so you want to win me over, huh?" you push yourself away from the tree, placing your free hand on his shoulder. Your sudden closeness makes Kuroo surprised, making him suddenly feel shy.
"Only words won't convince me... you better work hard for it, Tetsurou." you move away from him, and start opening your backpack, looking for your headphones.
You give a small wave to Kuroo, but without turning towards him, focusing only on the path in front of you.
Dumbfounded, Kuroo waves back, his cheeks dyed with pink in embarrassment.
"Thank you for accompanying me, but I can go on my own from here." You say as you fit your headphones onto your head, putting on a random playlist that you made in honor of your little crush, who is definitely not Kuroo Tetsurou (it is).
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— A/N: Uh........hi........I'm back.............
First of all, I want to apologize a thousand times to whoever sent me this request, I'm really sorry it took me SO LONG to post this. In addition to apologizing to everyone who follows me here, for not having given any sign of life for more than a month....😭
I really don't have a real excuse for doing this other than a total of 0 creativity and several hours of my life in hell (school), so I really needed to take this time for myself, until I felt more comfortable coming back here again.
I'm currently feeling quite creative artistically, mainly because I'm watching MHA again (which I'll probably bring here on my page) and also because I'm reading the Haikyuu manga. Plus, I passed pretty much every subject at school, so I don't have to worry so much about grades.
So...I'm officially back now!! I apologize again, and in compensation for this, I am already writing 3 more new things for you (2 are from MHA😜😜🤪); and I also won't open requests until I finish writing these, so stay tuned!!
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padfootagain · 1 day
Text
Love in Verses (XII)
Chapter 12 : Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again
Hi! Here is new chapter! This one is… interesting… Whiskey is very dangerous, indeed…
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here
Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?
Word Count: 2527
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
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Wild Geese
You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body        love what it loves. Tell me your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.
Mary Oliver, Dream work, 1986
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You ended up at your place with Andrew. After that awful dinner you both needed some emotional support.
You didn’t talk about the meal though. He didn’t mention how Frank had hurt you, you didn’t talk about how Andrew deserved better than Sam.
That was your final conclusion after the evening. Andrew deserved better than her. You didn’t know all the details that had drawn him away from a professional career in music, but you knew that it had been a tough decision to make for him. The way Sam made it sound, Andrew had simply given up. And yet, his eyes still lit up every time he talked of music.
You sat down on your couch with a bottle of whiskey, getting lost in thought as you replayed the conversation through your head. You had noticed how Sam had stopped listening the second you had started talking about your job, about music… about things Andrew loved. And perhaps you were too busy grieving for him, but was Frank the same with you? Because Andrew deserved someone who listened, someone who actually cared…
What did both Andrew and Frank saw in Sam that you didn’t? The question was relentless, spinning in your head again and again, a fly trapped under a glass trying to escape. What did you lack that she had?
You watched Andrew as he downed his first glass of whiskey. Neat. No ice or anything. He didn’t flinch, merely let out a long exhale as he let his head fall back onto the backrest of the couch.
“God… that felt good. I needed that,” he sighed, pouring himself another glass while you drank yours as well.
You winced slightly at the burn of the liquor, but silently asked for more anyway.
“What’s next on the list of things to ruin?”
Andrew chuckled at that.
“I reckon we haven’t really ruined anything yet… but… I guess not much until the New Year. You’re still coming to their party?”
“Of course,” you sighed. “We need to make a plan for this. We need to ruin something and then save the day.”
“We should ruin the champagne.”
“And replace it with another excellent one? Good idea. That could work for you.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t know… Maybe help Sam. That would impress him.”
“Hmm… a knight in shining armour? Ruin her dress and you fix it?”
“Oh…. That’s nice! You’re very good at this Andy, that’s a little scary!” you joked, nudging him. “I could give her my dress, and wear some disgusting clothes instead. The self-sacrifice will make him grow fond of me.”
“I’ll make sure to have the worst change of clothes in my car.”
“Perfect.”
“They said they wanted to organise the party in some sort of club…”
“Hmm… I bet you love the idea.”
“I’m already panicking at the mere thought.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”
You thought yourself silly for offering such a useless argument, but Andrew didn’t seem to think of it that way. Instead, he gave you a grateful smile.
“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, question aimed the ceiling as you sighed, Andrew shifted by your side.
“Because we love them.”
His voice sounded like a lie. It was true though. It had to be, somehow…
You drank again, tried to think of something else, let silence settle instead. It was okay. Silence with Andrew felt comfortable, like the world shushed under a blanket of snow. Natural. Slow.
And outside the world kept on turning, as if you weren’t in pain, as if you weren’t grieving. Wasn’t that a strange truth? Frank had left, and the world hadn’t stopped with him. You wished you could feel it spinning again, look at the rest of the world and feel its beating, and be part of it once more. Maybe, if someone listened to you, and understood you, and made you feel safe again… if you could be yourself with them…
“I’m glad you listened to the record,” Andrew spoke after a while and another emptied drink.
“I loved it.”
“It’s one of my favourites. My father listened to it often when I was a child.”
“Is he the one who made you love music so much, your father?”
Andrew nodded.
“He was sick when I was a child. Bad surgery on his spine. He never recovered.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He was a drummer, back in the days. And even after everything changed he just… I don’t know. No matter what we said to each other, how angry we were, how much we argued… we’ve always had music in common. Even when we couldn’t communicate properly, we would put on a record, sit in silence and listen to it, and then we’d discuss it, and things would get better.”
You knew that he was blinking tears away, heard him sniffing. He wasn’t looking at you and you were still staring at the white ceiling. It didn’t matter. Perhaps it even made it easier.
“I just… I didn’t… I made a choice, back in the days, you know? I wasn’t being a coward or something, I just… I didn’t want to tell other people’s words; words that I didn’t care about, I wanted people to listen to me. I wanted to make something that was true and earnest. I wanted… I wanted for someone to listen to me…”
He sniffed. You reached across the couch for his hand, easily found his fingers. He held your hand so easily, like it was obvious, like your hands were meant for that gesture, for holding onto each other. His so large, yours so small in comparison…
“I thought she used to listen, but I don’t know anymore. She wasn’t listening tonight. She hasn’t listened in a while. Do you think…? Do you think she ever listened to me? I had so much to say that I couldn’t express, I didn’t know how, I still don’t know how… I wanted her to listen… God I wanted for someone to listen, just once… just once…”
You tightened your hold on his hand, and you hoped that he would understand what you meant by this simple gesture. That you were listening now. That you listened. That you understood him. That you were there…
“Thank you.”
His voice was a mere whisper, but it was enough.
You struggled with your own tears as you spoke again, your voice shaking.
“I don’t understand why Frank needed to wait for me, and not for her. What… I feel like I’m lacking something…”
“You’re not.”
You felt his stare on you now, but you kept your own gaze set on the ceiling.
“You’re not lacking anything, stop it. Frank is the one who left…”
“Because he saw something in Sam he didn’t see in me. And I don’t know what it is. And I’m scared… I’m scared that I thought he cared about me, and he didn’t. I’m scared to have built my life on that kind of lie. And the worst is… I still want it. I want the life he promised me.”
You were surprised when Andrew let go of your hand. But then you felt his palm cupping your cheek, the brush of his thumb drying your tears.
You finally turned to him, he gave you a sad but soft smile.
“Don’t cry over him. Please, don’t cry.”
You sniffed, let him caress your skin for a moment longer. It felt reassuring, anchoring. Soft and tender. Safe. You felt safe with him…
You shook yourself, moved to the bottle of whiskey again.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t cry,” you nodded, drying your face on your arm. “Let’s get hammered instead, that was the deal!”
Andrew silently agreed by handing you his empty glass for a refill.
“Tell me something silly,” he requested.
“Something silly?”
“Something about… your college days. Those are always worth a good laugh.”
“It’s good craic,” you agreed with a chuckle. “Alright… I’ll tell you a couple of stories. But you’ll have to tell me some as well!”
“Fair enough.”
You exchanged a smile, united your glasses with a cling.
And then you talked about yourself. And he listened.
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Your head was spinning, you weren’t sure anymore if it was because of the alcohol or how much you were laughing.
You let yourself fall back into the sofa, holding on your painful stomach, tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. God, you hadn’t laughed so hard in… you were about to think ‘since Frank’ but you couldn’t remember ever laughing so hard with him.
“There was this one time,” Andrew went on. “I was playing with a band… Alex thought it would be hilarious to hide my guitar… I was so fucking panicked, I fell down the stairs leading to the stage and almost broke my neck…”
You doubled over with laughter, and he followed you close.
“How did you pay him back?”
“I told the girl he fancied he couldn’t read music, and she went on to teach him…”
You were hysterical at that point.
“And then…” Andrew choked on his own breath, and it took him a moment to recover and speak again. “Then, he was too afraid that she would push him away if he said anything, so he pretended he didn’t know and let her teach him all over again…”
You were both laughing too hard, the alcohol blurring your senses and making the stupid jokes and silly stories funnier than they ought to be. You looked at the bottle of whisky, admired the empty part of it, felt the burn of its effects on your cheeks.
And you looked at Andrew who was drying his cheeks, his long fingers spread across his stomach. He took off his glasses, they were wet with happy tears. He put them down on your coffee table and leaned into the couch again, slouched and comfortable, with his cheeks flushed with the liquor you had been drinking through the evening. His hair was held back in a messy bun, that had only become messier along the evening.
Damn, you couldn’t help the thought when it crossed your mind, because he was so bloody handsome…
He felt your stare on him, turned his attention fully to you. Focused and expectant, as if he knew you were about to say something incredibly interesting. And this black shirt he had on…
There were butterflies in your stomach and stutters on your tongue while your heart was pounding. You didn’t think. You didn’t think at all, you only felt, and wanted and easily yielded… and perhaps it was just the liquor, you would blame it on the whiskey in a few hours, but for now, you weren’t thinking about tomorrow morning. And for the first time in three months, you weren’t thinking about Frank at all either. Instead, you were thinking of Andrew, of how gentle and warm he looked sitting with you on your couch, how inviting his lips were, how you longed to touch his hair and his beard and him and…
… and then your lips were on his.
You felt him raising his eyebrows, but when you leaned closer and let your fingers find their way to his cheeks, the brush on your cheekbones told you he had closed his eyes too. And there you were, kissing him, and he was kissing you back, your mouths moving in perfect unison somehow, despite a first kiss and too much alcohol. He pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, while his other hand came up to cradle your face. The long fingers soon moved to your hair though, pulling you closer while he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow, lazy movement while you kissed, gasping for air every now and then, but your lips always connected again after a mere instant. You weren’t sure for how long you kept on kissing, too long for it to be meaningless, and yet you refused to think for now.
When you at last opened your eyes again, Andrew blinked at you, seeming a little shocked, and you weren’t sure if it was a good sign or not. You felt dizzy… dizzy with his scent, something of wood and a tinge of spices. Dizzy with his taste still on your tongue, a mixture of whiskey and something that was just him. Dizzy with the burn of his beard against your skin, with the heat of his body against yours.
Dizzy with him…
“Y/N?”
The way he whispered your name, his words a little slurred because of alcohol, and yet it sounded so good, tender, like he cradled the vowels and the consonants in his mouth, with tenderness in the way he spoke it out loud…
He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go, his hands on your waist and in your hair still, and you held onto him for a moment longer, admired how your kisses had reddened his lips.
Why did it feel so good to hold him? Why did it feel so good to kiss him…
“Erm… You… you kissed me.”
“Yeah… yeah, I did,” you whispered, refusing to pull away, remaining in his arms and your lips only centimetres away from his.
“You… I mean… We…”
You felt him leaning closer again as he took a deep breath, felt the brush of his lips on yours… but just when you were about to lean in, he pulled fully away, moving further away on the couch.
“Wait… what’s going on?”
You blinked up at him, regretting his brown curls between your fingers and the warmth of his breath against your mouth. But then your brain kicked in again, and your eyes grew round as the realization of your own movements sank in.
You had kissed him. You had kissed Andrew…
Holy…
“God, I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I… I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. God…”
“It’s alright,” he reassured you, but it was obvious that he was shaken.
“That was so out of line, I’m sorry…”
“No, it’s okay… I… I think we’ve both had a little too much to drink.”
“Yeah… yeah, I think it went to my head.”
Why was your heart aching when you thought he regretted it. He should have regretted it. And you ought to regret it too…
“Frank and Samantha…” you mumbled under your breath, thinking out loud, but Andrew caught your words and nodded.
“Yeah… yeah, we… they are the ones we want.”
He slowly nodded, ran his hand across his face, as if to clear his head.
“You… you were just drunk. Just drunk…”
He looked at his watch.
“God…it’s almost 2 a.m. We should go to bed…”
You nodded again, but stopped him when he pulled out his phone.
“I have an extra bedroom, you can stay if you want.”
“I can take a uber.”
“It’s late. You can stay, if you want to.”
Slowly, he nodded.
You let him head to the bathroom, and hid inside your bedroom, resting your back against its wooden surface as you closed it.
What the fuck was that?
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fiddleyoumust · 15 hours
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I loved episode 12 of Love Next Door. One of the aspects of friends to lovers that I wish more media explored is the transition from one kind of relationship to another. Often, we see couples just fall into the romantic relationship without showing the adjustments needed to make that happen.
One of the things that takes up the early days of dating someone is getting to know them. You fill your time together asking questions and revealing your past and yourself to the other person. But what happens when you start dating someone you've been close friends with for almost 30 years? What do you talk about when you already know everything about each other?
I like Seok Ryu asking about Seung Hyo's relationship with Tae Hui, not just because it shows us that she's no longer looking at Seung Hyo as a friend, but also because it's one of the few things she doesn't know about Seung Hyo.
They'd spent the entire episode being awkward and shy with each other because neither of them knew how to facilitate the change in their relationship. Seok Ryu's jealousy and her desire to gain access to this unkown part of Seung Hyo's life was the spark they needed to get the conversation going about their changed status.
I loved Seung Hyo drawing a boundary. He let's Seok Ryu have so much of him, but him being firm about her crossing a line with her questions about Tae Hui was really great.
I also liked the little detail about it being weird to call Seung Hyo "boyfriend". They've been one thing to each other for THIRTY years. It's going to take some time for them to get used to this new layer of their relationship.
The scene in Seok Ryu's room was perfect. They apologize. They acknowledge and talk out the awkwardness of going from friends to lovers, but most importantly, they both reaffirm with words and actions that they are changed. They acknowledge their desire for each other and give explicit and enthusiastic consent to act on those desires. It was beautiful and I can't wait to see what happens next weekend.
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itwasrealtome · 2 days
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THIN ICE
Olivia Benson x fem! reader
⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS MIGHT TRIGGER YOU
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ANGST | Olivia Benson x fem! detective reader | Masterlist
Summary : Detective Y/N Y/L/N, part of Olivia Benson’s Special Victims Unit, faces a life-threatening situation during a suspect’s arrest, chasing this one into an ultimate falls to his death. Injured but alive, Y/N finds herself in an hospital room, receiving stern words from Olivia about her reckless actions.
Content Warning : Mention of stimulants to stay awake | Mention of a breakup | Mention of police work | Mention of jumping off a building | Some police man being a jerk | Usual SVU talk : Abuse, murder, violence, weapon and kidnapping | Y/N getting into a fight | People falling from a building | Injuries | Death | Hospital | OLIVIA BEING MAD | HEARTBREAK
A/N : Hello my loves. I'm finally sharing this first Olivia X reader with you. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. There are a few people I can't identify in the taglist, I'm sorry.
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•••
This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.
Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.
But no one moved.
Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.
Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.
— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?
The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.
Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.
While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.
— Sorry about your shirt.
— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.
The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?
— Sure you’re okay?
— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.
Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.
Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.
It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.
Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.
— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.
— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!
Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.
—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?
Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.
— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.
— I seriously doubt you did this one.
That was all she could get out of the young detective. Amanda knew it as she watched her turn toward the window. The mere reflection of her face gave her a glimpse of what she was really feeling inside, a sweet mixture of anger and bitterness. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't something they could fix with a drink. And this worried the blonde even more.
— Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.
These words captured the passenger's interest again. She arched an eyebrow at her partner, a smile forming at the corner of her lips. Knowing their duo’s dynamics, she had dozens of retorts on the tip of her tongue, all of them a little more mischievous than the last. Instead, she just shook her head gently. Amanda didn't have to know how upset she was about the whole thing. She didn’t deserve to worry so much. And Y/N certainly had no right to be such a burden to her partner.
— Like what? Jumping off a building? y/n chuckled at the blonde’s glare. Relax. I won’t do anything of that kind, I promise.
At that very moment, the young detective genuinely meant it. She had not gotten up with such an idea in mind. If jumping off a building was regarded as a very stupid gesture, she considered her routine more so.
It was in the way the precinct’s bunks were beginning to feel like home. And how she spent every second of her days with the badge on her waist. She had no idea when she had last stepped into her apartment for more than a shower. Her desk was overflowing with paperwork and books in which she always found a way to bury herself. It was much more than a way to distract herself. At all costs, she avoided raising her head, out of fear of meeting the gaze that froze her every time. The path she was on was, for that matter, significantly more dangerous than whatever stupid thing Amanda was thinking about.
But she could not say that to her.
To anyone, actually.
— Weren't we just called to make sure that this jerk wasn't prowling around the residence?
In any other context, Y/N would have felt like a fool. Her back nearly arched as she tried to make out what was going on in a street they weren't even close to yet. She may have lacked sleep and insight into her personal life, but her cop intuition never failed her.
— You'd be sure of that if you'd listened to a single word the captain said.
— Something’s wrong.
Amanda brought them to the next intersection before momentarily stopping the car. The sight over her partner’s shoulder sent a chill down her spine. Despite years of experience, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline every time. The crowd of cops down the street certainly wasn’t helping. They were everywhere. Mostly hidden behind their vehicles. But their vests did not go unnoticed and neither did their weapons pointed at a specific target.
— Crap, I hate when you’re right about this stuff.
— Hum…what was that you were saying about our captain again? y/n faced her friend with a teasing smile on her face. She couldn’t help herself. Always listen to what sh–
The sudden acceleration of the vehicle silenced Y/N. She felt grateful once again that her belt was keeping her safe. No day went by without her being in some kind of danger, but she never thought she’d have to worry about dying while Amanda was behind the wheel.
— Would you please stop doing that? cried the younger detective, her hands still clutching the top handle. And since when do you drive so badly? Damn it.
— Guess now you’ll stop driving like a maniac if I let you get behind the wheel.
The door swung shut before she could react. She stepped out of the car herself and walked over to Amanda. A vest was tossed in her face before she could even think about opening her mouth. But anyone who thought she would have given up so easily was wrong.
— I do not drive like a maniac.
Her friend gave her a knowing look as she closed the trunk. Now was definitely not the time to have this kind of conversation, but Amanda was glad her partner hadn’t lost everything that made her the person she was.
She was relentless, both in her work and in her personal life. To be defeated by a suspect in an interrogation room was a rare occurrence. Within the profession, many officers wondered about her career choice. They could imagine her leaving the field to terrify judges in a courtroom. Perhaps because they were themselves scared to death to face her. Seeking victory in a debate with a woman like Y/N was a waste of time. She knew when she was wrong, and would always acknowledge it. Nevertheless, she also knew when she was right. And in those moments, Amanda was the first to grab a bag of popcorn.
— That you do.
The detective’s hands found the velcro on the vest from memory as she was too busy glowering at her friend. The protection weighed on her shoulders. It was almost enough to give her a reason to fall apart. That, and the weight of life that was beginning to take its toll on her.
Slightly defeated, she stomped over to Amanda to catch up with her. She knew the other detective was right. Her anger was evident in the way she drove. Since then, she was assigned the role of co-pilot. It was okay. But she loathed being deprived of her usual distraction. It was starting to loop in her mind. She needed a way out.
— Detective Rollins and Y/L/N, Special Victims Unit.
Amanda shoved her badge in the man’s direction, half-expecting him to tell her to piss off. He dominated the scene with his large stature and a rank evident to all. The rookies were following his orders and keeping their mouths shut. Something that obviously wouldn't work with Olivia Benson-trained agents. He didn't seem to mind, guiding the two detectives as close as possible to the scene. But then, the mere idea of having to send men into the building made him raise his chin in an authoritative, disapproving manner.
— Our only witness is trapped in this building, Rollins began the fight, finger pointing accusingly. I don't care how, I want that man in custody.
If one of them had looked up for even half a second, instead of fighting over who had the biggest –which was obviously Y/N in this situation– they might have been able to stop the young detective in her tracks. Amanda had had enough of listening to the man's whining as he waved his rank in her face. And her colleague, the one she was supposed to look after, was tired of simply waiting.
As discreet as a mouse in the middle of the city, Y/N circled the building and quickly found a fire escape. It wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind when the impulse to walk into the building first came to her, but she couldn't really say she'd given it much thought. With a bit of imagination, and a little help from a trash container, she managed to pull herself up to the top. Now, maybe that was the beginning of a crazy idea. She could already imagine her partner and captain scolding her - if, and only if, she managed to get out of there alive and intact.
At the top of the stairs leading to the third floor, the detective stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of their suspect's agitated voice.
Thomas Patterson, 45, suspected of having violently abused his wife before killing her, and of abusing his stepdaughter - Johanne Morales. The man's profile was clear: a respectful-looking husband and father-in-law, loved by all, carefree, but once the door was closed he turned into a control freak with urges he simply couldn't escape. He clearly hadn't planned to kill his wife. The autopsy had revealed signs of haste and mistakes that a man like Patterson would never have made if he had prepared properly. But he had made mistakes. His blows had been too violent, Johanne had interrupted him, and he'd had to finish the job quickly - too quickly, in order to hide his crime.
Y/N had studied his profile carefully. That's what she did best, that and avoiding her captain. She knew he was restless, nervous, ready to do anything to cover up his actions. The final piece of the puzzle was to eliminate the only witness, the one who would go all the way to court to see him take the fall. She had an advantage over him. She was there, so close to the goal, and he was unaware of her presence. At least, that was until Amanda's voice came through the radio.
— Y/L/N, you've got two seconds to get your butt over here.
The young detective could have banged her own head against the wall. Boy, had she been stupid on that one. She clenched her jaw, the urge to bite her fist growing cumbersome as she prayed Thomas hadn't heard. But he definitely did.
A front door opened slowly, the creaking hinges betraying the building’s condition. The man was probably armed, the sound of the guard echoing in the empty corridor. Each of his steps shook the wooden floor and sent a current of adrenalin through Y/N's veins. He was getting closer. She could smell him and his perfume. Him and her fear.
As soon as he was close enough to round the corner of the stairwell, the young detective took this as her cue. She charged at the man, her hands reaching for the 9mm held firmly in his rough, bleeding hands. In a split second, the magazine slid out and collapsed on the floor. She sent it tumbling down a few steps with her boot, before landing a knee into the suspect’s parts. This only confused him for the briefest moment. He was on her again before she could even flinch. Her body hit the wall with a heavy thud, the vest shielding her body from the heavy impact. However, the man’s hands found her neck and tightened their grip, pulling her head violently forward and then pushing it back, slamming it against the concrete wall.
He repeated the motion twice more, the detective’s pleas of pain provoking a feeling he himself could not begin to describe. Y/N wasn’t done with him yet. He clearly wanted to lash out at a woman and had a nasty habit of underestimating them all. Only, today wasn’t his lucky day. He was forced into the apartment where he had deliberately tied up the young Johanne. It was his turn to bang into something. The dresser barely tilted behind him, but the vase crashed hard against the top of his skull. He felt the water run down his face, the smell of freshly bought flowers wafting through the air.
Back in a corner, Johanne tried desperately to struggle out of her bonds, her words puffed out by the duct tape over her mouth. She could only witness the struggle between her back-up and her assailant. Watching as Y/N unloaded all her pent-up anger on the man who had dared to cause so much harm. In one smooth motion, Thomas grabbed the detective’s gun, a triumphant glint in his eyes. Hope was soon lost, his chances of getting out of there alive and free close to zero. His opponent was relentless and had no intention of letting him slip away. His only option, he realized, a flash of light reflecting off the window, was to drag the detective with him in his fall.
Outside, Amanda was still arguing with the man in charge of operations. He hadn’t given up and neither had she. Only when, as the argument continued to escalate, gunshots were heard, followed by the shattering of a window pane, did they come to an agreement. The plan didn’t even have time to take shape before two bodies flew out of the building.
First, the blonde saw the man she recognized as their suspect crash hard to the ground, the collision knocking him down instantly. Then came a tremendous thump and the shrill sound of a car alarm. Straight ahead of her, on one of the patrol cars, had landed Y/N. The height of the fall meant that the roof of the vehicle had been crushed and some of the windows smashed. That wasn't what Amanda was most worried about. Her partner, the one who'd promised her she wouldn't do anything stupid – like jumping off the third floor of a building, was sprawled motionless on the broken glass, blood on the back of her skull.
— Oh my God, Y/N, in one stride, she was as close as she could get to her friend. Call an ambulance. Now!
For once, the man made himself useful, radio in hand, as he asked for help. He now stood with one, maybe two, even three victims to deal with if the detective didn't make it. He could already imagine the damage it would do to his career. Besides, he knew Captain Benson very well and had no desire to mess with her.
Needless was his worry. The more Amanda studied her friend, the more she realized how lucky she’s been. Y/N was simply stunned, staring at the New York sky with an uncharacteristic intensity. She began to laugh, full-throated, heartily. It was probably the adrenaline pumping again. Tears joined the party, leaving funny marks on her bloody cheeks. Suddenly, she remembered.
— Johanne. She's alive. Up there. Y/N looked up at Amanda expectantly. She needs help.
***
Captain Olivia Benson had seen enough in her career not to let anxiety get the better of her. She had been beaten, kidnapped, almost died and dragged through the mud in front of an entire courtroom. She had reached a point where facing certain types of suspects no longer made her lose her footing.
But someone was bound to make her lose it.
Briskly, almost to the point of knocking herself off her feet, she made her way through the corridors of a hospital she knew all too well. The distinctive clatter of her heels against the floor blended perfectly with the incessant beeping and distant hubbub of such a place. She wasn't there to see a victim, as she often was. Her hasty and agitated demeanor only aroused the suspicions of the medical staff who had crossed paths with her so many times. It wasn't just a professional matter.
It hadn't been for a long time.
When Olivia reached room 212, she didn't spare a moment's hesitation. One of her youngest detectives and latest recruit was sitting wisely on the edge of the bed, her legs wriggling in the air like a child's. A nurse was visibly busy behind her, dropping more and more glass flakes into her tray as she went. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded tightly against her chest, eyes focused on the sight that made her stomach hurt in spite of herself.
She watched as Y/N's chest, covered in dried blood, continued to pulsate with every breath, as hematomas were already starting to spread across her face and torso, and as her plain face twisted in pain as soon as the nurse reached for another piece of glass. Just a few days ago, her first instinct would have been to rush to her protégé’s side and calm the agony she knew to be growing in her heart. But she'd vowed to keep her distance and stay in her current position: Captain Benson, unit chief.
All too quickly for the young detective's liking, the nurse finished her treatment and left the two law enforcement agents behind. Olivia had had the decency to wait until the door was closed before lashing out at her, which didn't stop Y/N from rolling her eyes. She'd already imagined this conversation - or rather, monologue - and knew she wouldn't come out of it unscathed. She'd probably lose her badge. No matter, she'd already lost her heart.
— Have you completely lost your mind? You could’ve been killed.
This was the cue for a lengthy sermon that she couldn't escape. The words left Olivia's mouth at a speed that seemed unbearable. She paced back and forth, her arms stretching out in waves of frustration and indignation, her cheeks rosy with emotion. She'd done some stupid things herself when she was just a rookie, but throwing herself off the third floor of a building had never been on the list.
— Are you done? y/n arched an eyebrow as Olivia finally paused. I saved a life today. While Amanda and that jerk were fighting over who had the biggest, which apparently I did.
— No, you refused to follow orders. Not only did you put yourself in danger, you put everyone's lives in danger. Heaven help us again that you were wearing your vest, otherwise it could have been a lot worse.
— I don't know why you care so much, you're just my boss!
Although these words were intended to hurt Olivia, it was Y/N who took the brunt of the blow. It was one thing to know that their relationship had been reduced to this, but it was quite another to admit it in person. The brunette was no longer entitled to worry so much, to ask her to watch out and send her a text as soon as she got home. Whatever had been was no more.
— Right, Olivia broke into an almost scoffing snort. Let me tell you, as your captain, that you won't be leaving the precinct for a long time.
— You’re benching me? Liv, you can’t do this!
— What you did was completely irresponsible. You don't want to follow orders, fine. But you're not leaving this desk without my permission.
The young detective had been holding her breath for a long time– far too long. She'd spent days avoiding conflict, lamenting in her corner, mourning the end of a story she'd thought would last forever. It wasn't just about what had just happened, it was something else, something more personal. She felt as if Olivia had no idea how to express her concern, as if her only option was to play the role of the big bad boss. But she was tired of hiding, of running away, of avoiding confrontation.
— Breaking my heart wasn't enough for you, uh? She rose from the bed, hastily putting on her jacket. If you want me to leave the squad, just say so.
For the first time, she faced her head-on. Head held high, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, ready to stand on tiptoe if that would help reach the brunette's height. She faced those brown pearls with all the courage she had left, her own eyes misty with tears she'd never let flow. This was it, so close yet so far, two souls who knew each other becoming strangers once again.
Olivia reached out with a last ounce of regret, brushing away a tear that had escaped down the young detective's cheek with the tip of her thumb. Her heart urged her to do more, to embrace this bruised woman, to bring her all the comfort she needed. She wanted to take Y/N home, wrap her in one of her shirts, tell her how much she loved her. In another life, where they were just two soul mates, where Olivia didn't have to worry about repercussions, whatever they might be. This was where she could find comfort.
— Go home. Take a few days. Get some rest. We'll talk about it when you get back.
The New Yorker had rarely seen a face shattered in a matter of seconds. Her words had urged Y/N to free herself from her hold, her head heavy and spinning from all the hassle and concussion she'd picked up from the blows. Her shoulder nudged her superior's as she walked by, a gesture of no little importance. She did not look back once to meet her former lover's gaze again.
Maybe she should have.
Maybe she would have seen the same love, the same tears, that Olivia saw in her eyes.
Maybe the ice wasn't so thin after all.
•••
Taglist: @electricboost @womenlovingwomen-imagines @hi-1-1-blog @emskisworld @enjoytheentireworld @arie109 @marvelandotheruniverseslover-adhd @philocalistwrites @wittygutsy @observeowl @ravennewlyn @tina-2005 @makkaroni221 @ssaaggwwaa @youdontknowwhotfiamm @mmmmokdok @hbkpop @micaluvssoccer @idk-whats-wrong-with-me-blog @nciscmjunkie @moonlightjxuregui @thefatobsession @12fluffybunny12 @scarletwitcher97 @thesamesweetie @idonothingallday @clozeliz @realgirlbossqueenslay @l4yne @rain-mikaelson @fanfiction-24824 @sammi1642 @inquisitive-nix @namelesscheshire
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cerisemerald · 3 days
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One and only — Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader
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SUMMARY: She has been loving Thomas for a while now, and it is heaving on her the fact she thinks he still is in love with Grace — she needs a confession, a affirmation that she is not just filling in a gap. It comes in a unexpected night, followed by an unusual morning, but everything with Thomas was like that.
MUSIC: One and only by Adele
A/N: this is the second fic I am reposting from my old account (I accidentally deleted it) and it was from one of my celebrations (200 followers I think) that consisted of fanfics inspired by Adele’s songs from the album 21, this one was requested by a dear friend and it is very dear to me!! It happens between s1-s2, Thomas meets (Y/N) after grace leaves. Feedback is always welcomed!
WARNINGS: English is not my first language.
WORD COUNT: 5,477
[MASTERLIST] [MOODBOARD]
(divider credit is for @cafekitsune)
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“Thomas,” she calls, staring at his back, but he doesn't answer, he continues to look at the field in front of them instead. “Thomas?”
“Hm?” He still doesn't look at her.
(Y/N) decides to finally walk to him, she does not stop in front of him though, sensing something was wrong and not wanting to disturb or annoy him somehow. She stops right behind Thomas, a step of distance between them, from this close she can see the tension in his shoulders better, and as much as she wishes to touch him and try to tranquillise him, she waits. He doesn't do anything, however, not even looks at her, and she sighs.
She looks at the field, too, trying to understand what is possibly happening in his head. But she has a strong guess, one she does not like at all. (Y/N) hates when Thomas lives more in his past than in his present life, for her, it was his biggest flaw; the way he was constantly living for memories and not for life itself. And she feels that now he is probably thinking about what happened two years ago, Grace.
(Y/N) does not care he is thinking of her, that she can understand, after all he did fall in love with her, it would not be easy, especially for Thomas who protected himself with so many walls, to forget the woman. She doesn't expect him to just stop thinking about Grace overnight, but it did hurt, sometimes, how it felt, as if she was living in the shadows of someone bigger than her. It had been Grace's mistake, but she was the one paying for it, paying for the mistakes of a woman she hadn't even met.
She also knew, of course, that it would take Thomas time to trust again, to open himself like he had before. She knew everything that revolved around a broken heart, she did, but knowing did not make anything easier to deal with. It was still hard to face Tommy and see how, even in his most present moments, a piece of him was lost. Sometimes, she would ask herself why she even stayed, when it seemed like Thomas would never love her the same way. But she did, returned to him every single time, hope, maybe, tying her to him.
“Tom, why’d you bring me here?”
Thomas had showed up in her house last night, surprising (Y/N) in the middle of the week. It was not how their encounters usually went, Thomas would see her mostly on weekends. Sometimes he would spend the night, sleep with her to leave only on Sunday morning, sometimes stay up until four pm, these nights they would dance in her kitchen while drinking whiskey. It was all simple, but what mattered was that they talked, that they would sit down to talk and would sooth each other. Everything between them was simple, even love, when it came to their realisations that they were in love. There hadn't been a confession, not from her nor from him, they had just looked at each other differently, held each other for longer, kissed with more passion than ever, and that was enough to understand.
But yesterday was very different. She could not understand what was happening, neither read it on his face. As soon as she opened the door, he was tense, eyes haunted — not like tiredness from work or exhaustion because of all his problems, but as if he had just heard terrible news and saw his world crumbling. When she greeted him with a kiss, he had not held her waist or face, and had returned the kiss distantly. Still, she breathed and let him in, hoping that she might help somehow. He didn't talk much, short answers only, but it was like he needed the attention, needed her to listen to him, so she did. After sometime, she had run out of ideas to console him and offered for them to share a meal together, and for the first time since they had known each other, he ate something. Almost unnerving, but she was so relieved that she chose to see that as a good sign. After that, Thomas just sat in silence while she cleaned the plates.
When (Y/N) finished, she turned around to see he was sitting still at the table, eyes closed, breathing like he was trying to control himself. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to hold back tears or a scream, whatever it was, it was consuming him, drowning him in anguish. (Y/N) moved slowly, getting closer to him and delicately grabbing his hand. Then she whispered his name like a secret, like she was afraid of being caught saying that, because, in truth, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Tommy to hear it or not.
But Thomas did, and he squeezed her hand like his life depended on it, returning the touch with such a force it took her aback. It was not like he never touched her, or that he didn’t show any sign of affection such as holding her hand, but that touch was different. It was acid, burning (Y/N)'s skin in seconds and leaving a million scars behind. Thomas touched her like she was the only one capable of saving him.
It was scary. It was exhilarating. It was a breath of heaven’s pure oxygen. It was suffocating as the smoke on a fire. And it was only a touch of hand.
But it said so many things, it said that he wanted her there, that he actually needed her there. And she was happy with being wanted, but being needed was something she could not even describe, it was overwhelming. It took (Y/N)’s breath away. It made her forget everything else she needed to do, because Thomas was there, all of him, in her kitchen, holding her hand and asking her to be there for him.
With care, she walked until she was behind him, her arms adjusting perfectly in his neck, allowing his head to find a rest in her belly, it was not often Thomas would let her be the one embracing him. Usually, he would be more vulnerable after they would have an entire night together, and he would lay down between her legs and relax on her chest while she caressed him. (Y/N) started to caress his hair, gently as she could, and she noticed that with time, Thomas was melting to her touch, a small smile grew on her lips, but she kept quiet. It was the first time she felt like she could have every single piece of him with her. He sighed as she took some strands of his face, inclining his head even more.
Thomas opened his eyes suddenly, and because of his moving, they were now staring right at each other. Her heart sank with what she could see, his eyes were dark and tired, hurt. Still, she didn't say anything, knowing it had to be him the one to initiate any type of conversation about what was happening, she only kept caressing his hair. After some seconds, he reached for her left hand and kissed it, making her smile again, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and she understood that it was his way of saying thank you. And, in a way, showing that he liked being near her like that. Although he seemed more calm, it didn't look like he would talk, and it was obvious how tired he was, so instead of asking anything, (Y/N) offered for them to sleep. He nodded, and they were quick to go to bed, a simple, but genuine kiss as a good night.
In the morning, he had all of a sudden woken her up with kisses on her neck — like last night hadn’t been so different, saying he wanted to take her somewhere. And yet, even though it was his idea to bring her, he hadn’t spoken since they got in here.
“I haven't come here in a long time.” He finally says something, making (Y/N) stare at him again. “My father…” Thomas takes a time to complete his sentence, “my father used to bring us here, sometimes, I hunted with him one day.”
“Hunted what?”
“A deer,” Thomas smirks, finally directing his look at her.
“You still didn’t answer me.” Thomas smirks only grows bigger at her words. “Why did you bring me here, Thomas?”
He keeps staring at her, she can’t tell everything he is thinking, but that he wants to say something and the words are hard to say, she is sure.
“I don’t know.” He confesses, and (Y/N) could have believed it if it wasn't for the hint of doubt in his tone, as if he didn't want to tell all the truth, but at the same time, didn't know all of it too.
She breathes deeply, she is trying really hard to understand him, she has been for quite some time, but he never truly gives her the chance. “It's that so?”
Thomas and her stare at each other for long seconds, it's not a battle this time, it's not her trying to reach him and him running away, (Y/N) feels as if she is already inside, but can't see what it is, and how could she? When he showed nothing before. She is not sure how to navigate this, what to search, what to ask, not this time, and that scares and frustrates her in equal amounts.
Thomas has these eyes that always make her feel naked, confused and alive. He sometimes looks at her like she is precious, like he cannot go a second without touching her, and she believes it, because his eyes are true, raw even. And then, he could look at her the way he is doing now, like she has just stabbed him, as if she has his heart in her hands to do whatever she wanted, and she decided to make him suffer. It wasn’t true, and it wasn’t fair, she didn’t have him like that, so why would he stare at her with all that devotion and agony?
She chuckles, lowly and dryly, and starts to walk, leaving him behind. (Y/N) doesn't know exactly what she is feeling at the moment, but everything is a little too much. She doesn't want to have to guess, it would be nice, for once, if he could finally say it out loud.
Stopping a few steps away from him, she finally takes a better look at everything in front of her, how beautiful that field is, how breathtaking the view of the sky is with no pollution from the city. The sun hadn’t completely risen yet, some shades of purple, pink, and orange decorated the sky. It looks just like a painting, she thinks, and it hurts a bit to realise that it would be a pretty day to feel good, for her and Tommy to be doing something enjoyable.
What bothers most is that it feels like there is just one last wall between them, and she had thought she would finally have him — but it's not simple, it never is. Thomas has to be the one to take that last step, he has to be the one to, at last, face what he is feeling. If she is the one to do it, to once again try to put pieces together to understand him, it will never change, he will only come home broken and expects mending. She wants more than that, she wants genuine words being said, wants to feel more than… a fragment.
She was afraid sometimes, what if the problem was not his past love, but her? Understanding that old feelings were hard to get rid of was easy, but to which point was Thomas protecting himself from any new feelings? Did it ever become a protection against her? (Y/N) would ask herself, what was he so afraid of? Afraid of having feelings for someone again? Or was he just afraid of… her? It scared her that maybe it wasn’t love and it’s disappointments that kept them apart, maybe it was her. And that she couldn’t fix.
She kicks some rocks by her feet and holds back another frustrated sigh, feeling like maybe she wasn't being fair, that her previous insecurities and frustrations might be influencing her. (Y/N) was trying so hard, to be seen, to be heard, to be loved. Because she loved him, honestly and easily, but had she not done this before? Tried to communicate, to understand? With others that now seem pale in comparison with Thomas, but still, love was a complicated thing. For her, it had always been, since the very beginning, since she had known what love was. It was not just Thomas, no, it would be unfair to say it was only him, perhaps she also needed time to deal with what was inside her. Yet she can't help to think it is different with him, there were others before, but he is the one that matters, he is the one she wants close at all times, the one she still stays close to even with all the hurt and words unsaid, waiting, wishing.
It was Tommy, after all, making her heart feel full and empty at the same time, occupying her thoughts, making her feel like things could get better someday.
If she just had the chance to properly talk to him… to cross all the bridges and understand, maybe then a conclusion would be made, one not based on assumptions she could not fully trust.
Nevertheless, here they are, turbulent thoughts clouding each one's mind. The surroundings are beautiful, the wind making leaves float in the air, both of them with their mouths clasped shut and minds running wild.
She can't see it, Thomas thinks, this time she doesn't seem to see the truth in his eyes. He notices the way she is shrinking inside herself, body almost crumbling, and he walks to her, he is tense when he hugs her from behind, arms keeping her in a tight embrace. Thomas knows she is fighting back tears by the way she lets herself go and relaxes her head against his chest as soon as he pulls her in. He can feel the way her body is fighting, half of her not willing to rest completely.
He never truly knows what to say, he did when he was with Grace, or almost always did, a clarity coming to him when he was about to do something stupid. With (Y/N) it is different, he knows how he feels, and she says the right thing, and he lets her read him, and they go on. Sometimes he has to say it, because she is tired, because she needs him to, or simply because he feels the urge to. But now it feels like they have reached a point that if Thomas keeps being silent, things will end.
Still, for a while they just stay in silence. Thomas keeps his touch steady, not entirely conscious that he is drawing patterns on her waist until she lets out a sigh that he recognises quickly by now, contentment, he can feel her relaxing a bit more. His hands wander a bit further, tracing her belly and up her chest, and as he remembers the night they met, his touch becomes heavier. For what felt like an eternity, he had wished to touch her. It was quick, she'd always say, how they met and how they ended up in a private room. She was not aware that for him, it had felt like a long waiting.
A party that he meant to go for business only, not even much interested in said business, at least not enough to try to do it in person, he had sent John to do it, but he got sick. Never before had Thomas been so happy with his brother being ill. Had he never gone to that party, he would not have met her. And it was a truth, even though he did not say it much, but a truth nonetheless, that since they met, she was constantly taking him out of his stupor. Since he had laid his eyes on her, he felt it, hands pulling him up, making him finally blink and wake up.
It was simple between them, it had been since the beginning, he had wanted her and there was no room for questioning if he would follow her, she had corresponded in the same intensity. Slowly their lives came in between, the days apart, the reality of each one, but even then, she only told Thomas she would be waiting, and there was no room for questioning if he would come back.
On the weeks with fewer visits from him, nothing changed, on the weeks he could see her more frequently, everything did.
Although his ghosts still haunted him, it was not the same as before, he could breathe now, push them away easier. But he had never been good with words when it came to this. To confess, he used words to get what he wanted, to conquer, long gone was the time words served as a way to connect and open himself. Grace had started to change that, easily as if she was a childhood love, she had picked up his heart on her hands. Thomas had not expected it, and when it hit him, he realised how truly in love he had been. For once his intuition had left him, after such a long time creating walls upon walls, they crumbled only to have to be raised again. He had also not expected it to change, to meet someone else, and yet, he did.
“What are you thinking?” She asks, head still resting against him.
“You.”
“You are thinking about me?” He can hear the small smile on her lips.
“Yes.”
“What about me?”
“The night we met.”
“Oh.” She chuckles, as if something suddenly made sense to her. “You were so pretty that night.”
Thomas holds back a smile, like he usually does when she says something like this. “I’d say you were more.”
(Y/N) laughs and turns to look at him, distancing herself enough so they could stare, he is relieved to see there are no tears in her eyes. “I was, but it didn’t last long after I met you.”
Her arms find a place on his shoulders as she hugs him, hiding her face on the crock of his neck. She radiates warmth, and Thomas welcomes it eagerly.
“It wasn’t all my fault.” Thomas says, dead serious, because sometimes she seems to forget they burn together, and she laughs again.
He feels when her body changes after a few moments, her breathing getting erratic, he prepares himself.
“Tom?” It's nothing more than a whisper.
“Yes.”
“I’ve been thinking, and…” something in him is begging for him to interrupt her, he knows what is coming, he can feel it. “I think we should, you know, stop seeing each other.”
He stays quiet, his arms never leave her body.
“Why?”
She takes a long time to answer, and Thomas starts to look for words he can say, things he can do to fix whatever needs to be fixed. He knows what it is, but as her silence stretches so much, he wonders if there is something more, if there is more he did and was unaware of it, that isn't hard to imagine. He feels, somehow, the moment she shivers, her arms seem to lose strength, her embrace weakening.
(Y/N) takes a deep breath before speaking,“because… because I feel like I’m Grace’s shadow. I feel like you met me when you were desperately needing someone to replace the emptiness that she left at your heart. It’s not that I’m the same as her, no…” she hides her face even more in his body, “it’s just you wanted someone to make you forget all the pain. And it happened that I was there to be your distraction. And at the beginning, I didn't care. But now, I do.”
She stops, Thomas knows she is fighting back tears, knows that she hates having to say all of this. Then she whispers, “I care because I’m in love with you, and being someone’s shadow for the man I love isn’t my biggest wish.”
What a treacherous path Thomas had walked them into. He could not deny it what he felt in the past was real, what he and Grace had shared was still haunting him, as his deceptions and frustrations always did. He never admitted, but for him, things like that never left his mind, he just pushed them away, kept them hidden. And still, things did not need to be like this, he did not have to act like that. He did… he liked (Y/N), not just that, he loved her even. A small and fragile thing at first, threatening to hurt him, not because it hurt, but because it made him finally move on. But now, a year later, it was not that small any more, he knew what he felt, knew that he searched for her when they were apart. And Thomas had no necessity in comparing what he felt before with what he felt now, he knew it would take time for something like that to happen again — to be true, he had not even thought it would happen again, but it did, it is happening.
Thomas blinks, watching as flowers and leaves were stirred by the wind, a hollow sound surrounding them. There is so much more he probably doesn't know, more things she thinks and has kept to herself.
“You’re not Grace’s shadow.” He says in a whisper, his voice betraying him. It sounds weak, and he wanted to convey how strong his affection is. Nonetheless, he hears her sighing in relief, distancing herself from him a bit, but still not looking at his eyes.
“You love her Tom,” (Y/N) states, “you’re still deeply in love with her and all you lived by her side. If I’m not her shadow, then I’m a mere ghost of what she was.” She raises her eyes to his face, he is already staring, always staring at her.
She looks at him with so much resignation that Thomas is almost convinced he cannot change her mind.
“I’m not angry or mad or upset about this. I’m just sad.” She says it then, voice low, Thomas knows it is because she is holding tears back. “And it doesn’t matter how much I love you, I don’t want to be sad, to feel miserable every time I don’t act like someone I don't even know. I just don’t want that life for me, even if that means losing you.”
He looks away, not being able to stare at her eyes at the moment, not when he doesn't have the right words to say. It was not his intention for it to reach this point, for her to think he wants a copy of Grace. He knows he has to say it, explain himself, but it is like being paralysed. It's the kiss on his cheek that makes him finally blink, it is the way her lips are so delicate against his skin, a goodbye. She leaves his arms, turning around to go back to the car, but he holds her wrist immediately, (Y/N) stops, looking at him with knitted eyebrows.
Thomas takes in all of her at that moment, the determination clear in her eyes, eyes he has grown so accustomed to, that do not search him unless he opens himself, eyes that love him, tender him. Eyes that he cannot forget even when she is not with him. He looks at her lips, lips that have said the words he needed to hear, the ones he did not want to hear, lips that have kissed him with so much passion that he was able to forget the world for some hours. She has, slowly, found a place inside of him, roots with her name overtaking his chest. Her hair flutters around her face, she seems tired, (Y/N) offers no more resistance on her face, only resignation, but she does not pull away either. He engraves every single detail of her in his mind.
The words are not helping him, he cannot think of anything good enough to say, it is like she wiped his mind, leaving nothing but thousands of pictures of her behind. Of every moment she has used her words not to pry him open, but to convince him to do so, every moment she has held him in place instead of insisting on dragging him somewhere else.
It was at the moment, the sun shining brightly, orange light taking over the sky, making her skin seem warm to the touch, that he finally realised. It had always been simple between them, he did not need to complicate it right now, there was no need for elaborate words, only the truth. She wanted something straight-forward, (Y/N) was just asking for it to be real.
“I don’t want her,” Thomas says, words finally appearing. “I don’t want her like I want you. Not any more.”
And it was true, he had loved Grace, had felt something he thought himself incapable of after the war, and yet, it passed. She had betrayed him, and he still felt it then, sometimes still feels it now, but it passed.
She gives a step forward, “but you still love her, right?”
He allows himself to remember Grace's face, her tender touch, it was involuntary, the care that comes with it. But there is also the pang of heartbreak, the understanding and the sense of finality, there is nothing he can do to go back in time, and now, he does not want it any more. He has (Y/N), she mended what was broken. He takes a step towards her as well, hand tightening even more around her wrist, he wants her now more than he ever did.
“Yes.” he admits, because it is also true that (Y/N) can wring secrets from him. “But she’s past.”
“Is she, Tom?” She gives in a deep breath, “if that’s so, you’re a man living your days in the past. You’re always with her, even when you try to be here with me.”
“No.” he denies, low and firm, “It’s not me living in the past, (Y/N).”
“What is it then?”
He wants to say it at that moment, to confess she haunts him, that his past always does — who he was before war, who he became during it. It is a part of him now. But that is not his nature any more, to confess this easily, it takes time, and he has said more today than he ever did before. Instead, he looks at her, knowing that when nothing comes out of his mouth, that it's what denounces him, his eyes.
She reads him again. Thomas knows, he always knows when she understands. Maybe it is the look on her face, he has never been able to identify what it was, but something changed when she could get him.
“I know it ain't easy,” (Y/N) says, getting closer to him, she puts a hand on his face, “it seems to haunt you, Thomas.”
She is close now, enough that he can feel the warmth of her body again. Thomas lets himself relax against her, his hand still on her wrist, he can feel her pulse now, slightly accelerated.
“I feel left out sometimes,” she whispers, “as if she is right behind me, and I am echoing her words, or at least the words you wanted her to say.”
Thomas nods, “you are not like her.”
(Y/N) seems surprised at that, “what was she like?”
But that is too much. “You are different,” he establishes, firm enough for her to understand he does not want to talk about Grace like that. It's easier to just forget, sharing this feels strange, describing how he loved her — because it would not be just an impartial view of how she was. “And your words too, you do not echo her in my mind.”
You fixed it. Erased what hurt was left on the surface.
(Y/N) squint her eyes at him, he lets her stare into his eyes, lets her understand.
“If we…” she cleans her throat, “if you try, could this work?”
He bites his tongue to say that is already working, because yes, for him, it is, but she is opening herself to him and saying she is hurting.
“What do you want?” He asks, instead.
“You.” (Y/N) shrugs, “I know we can't be each other one and only. But it would be good if you opened yourself more, I cannot always read your mind.”
He must've frowned at that, because she immediately completes, “I know it's different for you, how you open up. I sometimes wish for words, it's true, but it is not what you can give me and I know that.” And although she understood it wrong — he was just surprised when she said she could not always read him —, he was happy to hear that.
Thomas puts a hand on her waist, pulling her and closing the distance that was left, he can feel her now, that smell that calms him every time they sleep together, he tightens his grip. There is not a world where he would refuse this, it is surprising, sometimes even slightly scary and annoying, how she managed to awaken him when he fought so much to numb himself. But he always comes back to her, always knocks on her door, because it is stupidity to refuse her, push her away, only a mad man would do that. He consumes her instead, goes to her house, drinks from her lips with such thirst it is as if he is famished, and it is never enough. Whatever she wants, he thinks, whatever she wants to stay.
She is looking at him with an indecipherable expression, but he cares not at the moment, he will have plenty of time to reflect on everything she said today, to understand her even more. Now, he searches for her lips, brushing his own against her, wanting to feel her before making the real move. He is not one for teasing, every time he does this, it is because the waiting feel as good as the actual kiss, the way he can feel her skin shivering, the way she whimpers slightly — because they are the same when it comes to this, she also has an insatiable hunger. They finally kiss, then, desperate to feel each other, it always feels like they are one at this moment, and nothing else matters.
She is the one to break the kiss, only to look at him and whisper, “I love you.”
Before Thomas can think of answering, her lips are crashing against his again, demanding, taking, and he answers it. He almost chuckles when one of her hands find her way to get under his shirt, but his own body leans into it in such a fast manner he knows he would be laughing at himself too.
Since the first time she touched him like this, he knew he had cursed himself. He knew he would be damned, growing hunger for that, fonder for her. She had scared him, and yet, proved herself to be exactly what he needed.
He broke the kiss this time, not being able to contain the smirk when he saw her drunk eyes, even though he was for sure laughing at himself too.
“I love you.”
She melts against him, smiles brightly. He does not know why he waited so long to say it, but he is usually like this, takes too long to say something important.
“You’re not her.” He finds himself saying, surprising the both of them, “you’re not her shadow.”
She nods, Thomas sees her blooming right in front of him. He feels something settling in his chest, his mind getting quieter, a miracle for its own, but even more special when he feels it because of her.
Please. He thinks as he gives a peck on her lips. Don’t ever say you’re a mere ghost, when I love you this much.
The wind was still stirring the flowers and leaves of the field, and the field was still the same, same as the sun shining in the sky. But somehow, everything seemed more right.
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rosieevan · 2 days
Text
I NEED a good and deep yandere!Lucerys x Yandere!reader fic. Something about reader and Luke both being obsessively in love with each other, a toxic fic where they just do everything to stay together and if anyone even tries something they're dead cause nothing can go between these two lovebirds. Something intense where they just stare deep into each other's eyes and just kiss for hours...
I NEED a Lucerys x reader where Daemon wants to take Lucerys and Jace to a brothel to "show" and "teach" them how "things work" and reader is just in her room sad and crying knowing that Luke is probably doing his "first time" with a pretty woman in the brothel. But then he came back really early and without Jace and Daemon from his little trip and he just just goes in reader's room to find comfort and find her crying cause her boy was in a brothel (she just hoped they will both preserve themselves) and Luke just cry with her, telling her that he didn't do anything and that he panicked when he saw all theses naked womans and that he just ran away from the brothel cause he's not ready for theses kind of things and he only wants to experience intimacy with reader once they'll be older and married. And they just end up taking a bath together and going to bed and cuddling.
I NEED a Lucerys x Twin!Ghost!reader, something where no one told Luke that he had a twin sister who died during their birth and Luke just KNOWS that something (someone) is missing. Like he always feels sad and incomplete. He sees the reader in his dreams and he's just in love with her and when he ends up dying eaten by Vaghar he finally reunites with the girl he loves more than anything and then Rhaenyra and Jace ask Alys Rivers to see Ghost!Luke and they see Luke laying against Arrax and he's cuddling with the reader, he doesn't even look at his mother nor Jace, he just keeps his eyes closed and tells his mother that he's finally truly happy cause he reunited with his other half.
I ALSO NEED Septon!Lucerys x reader where they just fall in love for the first time and they just don't know how to act.
OR Lucerys x Septa!Reader and it's basically Luke having a big crush on little septa reader and he just asks dumb questions about the gods so reader can talk to him and he's always so nervous. And reader just knows that he has a crush on her and she finds it absolutely adorable. And one day she just tells him that she knows he loves her and that he doesn't need to always come asking dumb questions about the gods to talk to her, and she just ends up kissing luke and then she goes back to work.
AND I NEED lots of modern au with Luke. I mean...Nerdy!Shy!(loser🤫 and inexperienced)Lucerys x reader fics. Imagine Luke and reader being each other's first girlfriend/boyfriend and don't knowing what to do :(. Or cute little imagines about reader introducing Luke to skincare during a sleepover. Or just them being in Luke's room and hearing Jace and his girlfriend doing things and they just stare at each other all shy and embarrassed 😭? OR best friend Luke x reader where Luke is so in love with reader and he thinks she has a crush on Jace when in reality he's just too blind to see that she's in love with him too.
I NEED THESES FICS.
AND I HAVE SO MUCH MORE IDEAS OF LUKE X READER FICS BUT I DON'T KNOW WHO COULD WRITE THEM AND I THINK I'LL HAVE TO END UP WRITING THEM MYSELF.
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redrose10 · 2 days
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Since spooky season is among us 7 or 8 would set those vibes 👀
Here is #7 from the picture game! I was hoping someone would request a spooky season one with this photo. It starts off pretty spooky but there is a lot of humor and stuff in there too. Also it’s kind of loosely based on that drama My Demon.
Warnings: Death, demons, small unwanted advancements, mention of hospitals and cancer
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You looked around the room taking in the scenery as if it was all new to you even though you’d spent plenty of time there. Your grandma was a sweet woman. She really was, but sometimes you wondered what had happened in her life that caused her to become the way that she was now. She wasn’t always like this. Then one day she suddenly adorned her home with dozens and dozens of various crosses and pictures of the Virgin Mary. A bowl of Holy Water sat in each room. She recited prayers on the hour like her life depended on it. Even on her death bed it seemed to be the last thing she could think of. She held your hand as you studied her face trying to memorize every wrinkle and hair.
She hadn’t spoken in several days at this point. The nurses warned you to prepare for the end as it was near.
“Y/N”, she suddenly whispered with what little strength she had left.
Immediately you leaned forward, “I’m here grandma. I’m here. What do you need?”
“Y/N, I see him. I can see him. Do you?”
You looked around the room but it was only you and her. The nurse already having left for the night.
One of the pamphlets you read had talked about how hallucinations were common in the final stages of death. You remained quiet as your grandmother continued to mumble.
“Y/N, don’t make the same mistakes I have. I’m so sorry for what I did.”
You shook your head, “Grandma everyone makes mistakes. It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.”
“No Y/N. You don’t understand. If he ever comes to you, you run. You run away as fast as you can and don’t fall for his tricks.”
You were startled by her words but tried to remind yourself that the nurses told you this was normal and that it wasn’t really your grandmother talking any more.
“Y/N if you don’t remember anything I’ve ever taught you just please at least remember this. The Devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He is beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel. And he’s here now Y/N. He’s here for me and I can’t avoid him any longer.”
She began to cry as her breath became even more ragged.
“Grandma it’s okay. It’s okay”, you said through tears trying to soothe her. You grabbed your phone to call the nurse hoping they could come administer some more sedatives or something. You hated seeing your grandmother cry in fear. But by the time the nurse picked up your grandmother had passed.
The nurse was at your door in no time. She helped you make the necessary phone calls and waited with you until the funeral home arrived. Once they were all gone and you were left alone sitting in your grandmothers room you stared at the now empty bed. The thought that your grandma’s last moments were filled with fear was more heartbreaking for you than anything else.
“Your grandmother was a good woman. I almost feel bad.”, a deep voice spoke behind you. You shrieked in fear jumping back against the wall.
“Who are you and how did you get in here?”, you screamed while frantically searching for your phone.
“Your grandmother just warned you about me. Were you not listening?”, he smirked.
You looked over this strange man who was standing in your grandmother’s bedroom. He had raven black hair and sleek cat like eyes. He was dressed in all black. His long cloak hanging lazily off of him. Skin without a single blemish. He looked like an angel.
“I’m sorry I’m still confused as to who you are and why you’re here.”, you said while slowly inching towards the door hoping you could make a run for it.
“Y/N, I’m here to collect what is mine.”
Your skin turned ice cold. Was he the man that your grandma had been seeing in her final moments? And how did he know your name?
The man let out an annoyed sigh before snapping his fingers teleporting you to an unknown location. The room was filled with thousands and thousands of clocks. All ticking away. The sound was overwhelming. Under each clock was a name plate. You gasped when you read the name under the clock directly in front of you.
Unlike the others your grandmothers clock wasn’t ticking any more and instead of being a beautiful gold color like the rest, it was gray.
“What is all this?”, you asked.
“Well I grant wishes.”
“Like a genie?”
“Yes…wait no not like a genie.”
“Well genies grant wishes so…”
“You humans really are insufferable.”, he scoffed before pinching the bridge of his nose, “As I was saying, I grant wishes for people in need. I come to them when they are the most vulnerable and in exchange for granting their wish they sign a contract stating that at the end of their life their soul will eternally be mine.”
You looked over this man trying to make sense of what he just said and why it involved your grandma.
“So what does this have to do with my grandmother?”
He grinned as he was happy to relive the moment, “Many many years ago I was at a hospital. It’s one of the easiest places to make a deal. People are willing to sign away their eternity if it means saving their loved ones or even extending their own time on earth. I came across your grandfather. He had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer, given less than three months to live. He was worried how your grandmother would be able to survive without him. She had a young child at home, only working part time at a bakery. He was desperate to make sure she was taken care of. Soooo I made him a deal. At his next doctors appointment he would be magically cured and then would live the rest of his life cancer free and when he died as an old man warm in his bed, his soul would be mine.”
You stared at him in disbelief.
He continued, “When your grandmother found out she was livid. She tracked me down and begged me to make a deal with her. At first I declined because I make the deals, not some measly human. But she was relentless. I kind of admired her honestly. Finally I gave in and made her a deal. Instead of taking her husbands soul I would get hers. She spent the rest of her life thinking that cheap porcelain crosses and holy water would save her. She paid her dues and now her soul is mine for eternity.”
Tears brimmed your eyes as you shook your head backing away from him, “You’re a monster.”
“Well they don’t call me the devil for nothing babe.”, he smirked.
Your grandmothers words repeated in your head. The devil can be beautiful and here he was standing in front of you looking as bewitching as ever.
“So what happens to the souls after you take them?”
“They’re used to fuel the livelihood of hell. Kind of like you would put gasoline in a car.”
You scoffed, “Okay and what happens when people stop making deals with you and you can’t collect any more souls?”
The devil let out a loud laugh, “That will never happen. Humans are far too selfish and weak. They will always be willing to make a deal if it benefits them in some way.”
You glared at him as hard as you could but deep down you knew he was right.
“Well it’s been a pleasure Y/N.”
“Wait! How do you know my name?”
“Babe, I know everyone and everything.”
And with that he snapped his fingers and you were back at your grandmothers and alone and confused.
Tonight was going to be a good night. You were showered and moisturized and ready to go out and have a great time. You had just exited your shower and was walking your way to the bedroom when you were greeted by a familiar voice.
“Give it back.”
You jumped in shock making sure your were completely covered with the towel.
“Excuse me! You can’t just enter into people’s homes like this.”, you spat, “I could’ve walked in here naked.”
“And I could’ve just walked into your shower and saw you naked myself if I wanted to but I didn’t. So now give it back!”, he demanded really not in the mood for anything right now.
“Give what back?
“My powers?”
“You’re pow- What?”, you’d said walking into the living room.
“Where are you going?”
“To call the police like I should’ve the first time.”
The devil lunged forward and grabbed your wrist pulling you against him, “Y/N, you really don’t want to do that.”
“You smell like cinnamon and vanilla.”, you whispered.
His brows furrowed, “What am I supposed to smell like?”
“I don’t know. Smoke with a touch of sulfur.”
“Seriously? Do you also think I should have horns and a pointy tail?”
“Actually ye-“
He shook his head, “Never mind that. You’re getting me off topic. Give me back my powers.”
“What powers? I don’t have any powers. Trust me because if I did you wouldn’t be here right now.”
He ran a hand through his somehow still perfectly styled hair, “Ever since I met you my powers have been all out of sorts. You are the only thing that was different from my normal routine. So what did you do to them?”
“Listen devil boy, I didn’t take your powers. And I really don’t appreciate you thinking you can just show up here whenever you want either. You made a deal with my grandparents, not me.”, you said poking your finger into his chest.
He looked at you somewhat shocked. No one had ever had the nerve to speak to him like that and he had to admit that he kind of liked it.
He straightened up his jacket before stepping away to give you some space, “Okay first off my name isn’t devil boy. You can call me Yoongi. Secondly if you didn’t take my powers then what happened to them?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know? Maybe you got fired or demoted or something.”
He snorted, “I am great at my job and I’m like literally the king of hell. Who’s gonna fire me?”
Rolling your eyes you grabbed your bag and started heading towards the door, “Look Yoongi I certainly don’t have your powers but if I come across them I’ll give you a call.”
You left him standing there alone and speechless.
“No thanks”, you said to the same guy for probably the 10th time. He didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. “Hey I think I’m gonna get out of here and go home.”, you said to your friend. The noise and the people getting to be too much. She asked if you were okay by yourself which you were so you paid your tab and headed for the front door. As you waited for your ride a presence walked up next to you. Before you could react you were being dragged away down a dark alley next to the club.
“Since you didn’t want to play nice, now
I have to forcefully take it from you.”, said someone. You recognized the voice as the man who was insistent in the club earlier.
You whimpered while trying to break free of his grasp but he was significantly stronger than you were.
“Mmm you smell really nice.”, he said running his nose against your neck.
A loud bang rang through the air and smoke began to fill up the space around you. In an instant the man was thrown back against the opposite wall. Intimidatingly Yoongi stood next to you. He stared daggers at the man as he was picked up nearly twenty feet int he air before slammed back against the ground.
“If you ever even think about her again you’ll die instantly.”, Yoongi growled as he kneeled down next to the man.
He took the hint and hastily sprinted out of the alleyway somehow still in one piece.
“I thought you lost your powers?”, you questioned.
“Oh gee thanks for saving me Yoongi. That was really sexy of you. How can I ever repay you for that?”, he mocked in a high pitched voice.
You ran your tongue over your teeth before sighing, “Thank you for saving me Yoongi. That was really ANGELIC of you. I’ll repay you by getting out of your hair and going home.”
You tried to walk past him but he grabbed your wrist, “Not so fast Y/N. It seems like my powers are only strong enough when I’m near you.”
“Alright so what does that mean?”, you inquired.
He moved closer to you. So close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.
“It means that you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together.”, he smirked, “And I hope you’re ready for it babe.”
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lokigodofmyheart · 2 days
Text
FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS
MASTERLIST
Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader
Words: 4.479.
Summary: Tony and Y/N have a friends with benefit situation. But what happens when someone wants more and the other don't?
Warning/Content: angst, fluff.
A/N: This is my first time writting a Tony x Reader. Dividers by @cafekitsune <3
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Fury was on her, wanting the reports from last mission. And obviously, the only person who hadn’t finished yet was Stark. Somehow, Fury thought that if someone could make him do it, it would be Y/N. And that’s how she ended up in his lab. 
Tony was sitting in his chair, doing absolutely nothing with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked at her with his usual smirk “What’s bring you here, Y/L/N?” 
“Have you finished your report from the last mission, Stark?” She asks, walking closer to his desk. 
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair “No, not yet. Why?” 
“Fury needs it. And he’s been waiting for it for two days now.” Y/N knew how Tony was and how much he hated to make those reports. In the end, she always ends up finishing for him. 
Tony rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his glass “I'll finish it, but not right now. I'm in the middle of something.” 
“Yeah, I can see it.” She glares at him, before she starts going through the giant amount of paper on his desk.  
Tony stops put his glass down on the desk and looks at her with a small smirk “Are you really here to talk about the reports?” 
“Yes.” She finally found it. 
“And are you sure that's the only reason you're here?” His smirks didn’t flatter. 
Y/N grabs the file in her hands “Yes.” That’s all she said before she turns around without looking at him and left his lab. 
Tony watched as she walked away from him, without any further comment. Obviously, given their situation, he found it a bit weird. 
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The next day, Y/N was in her room when she heard a knock on her door. She open it, seeing Tony standing there.  
“Yes?”  
The man leaned against the doorway, with a small smile that he saved just for her when they were alone “I need to go to the mall, buy a few things. Wanna tag along?” 
Her face turn to an apologetic one “Sorry, I’m not feeling very well...” 
“You feel sick?” He asked her and she could noticed the worry in his voice. 
“No, not. Just a small headache, nothing major...but thanks for the invitation anyway.” She gave him a small smile. 
Tony was a bit reluctant to believe her but didn't want to press further “Yeah, ok. Rest well.” 
“Thanks.” She gently closes the door. He stood there for a few seconds, worried, before he walked away. 
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The next time something like that happened, it was after movie night with the team. Everyone said good night after the movie ended, leaving just the two of them in the living room. Y/N slowly got up from the couch “I’m going to bed too.” 
Tony quickly got up too, grabbing her arm gently and smirk “Why don't we go to mine?” 
Again, the apologetic expression crossed her face “I’m on my period. Sorry.”  
His smirk dropped slightly as his grip loosened and his hand fall from her arm “Oh...” 
Y/N gave a small apologetic smile “Night, Stark.” 
He nods “Night, Y/L/N.” 
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Tony thought it was just a coincidence, but he noticed that she looked like she was avoiding being alone with him. It had been more than a week since they had sex and every time he tried, she just had some short of excuse.  
He waited until she finished her training and cornered her when she was leaving the room. “Y/L/N, we need to talk.” 
Y/N stops and look at him “Sure.” 
He looked around to see if anyone was around and he crossed his arms “Have I done something to you?” 
“No.” She made a confused face as she looked at him. 
He studied her features for a moment, before he spoke again, a little lower “You've been avoiding me lately...” 
“No, I’m not.” 
Stark stepped closer to her “Then explain why you're avoiding spending time with me alone.” 
Y/N gave him a small smile “I’m not. Really.” 
“Then why did you always have some sort of excuse each time I ask you to hang out just the two of us?” 
She looked at his face and could see that he was somewhat hurt by her actions “I told you, I wasn't feeling well one day, and the other one I was in my period.” 
He didn’t really believe her “What about the other time at the lab? You came, got some paper, and were gone in a second. You didn't even try to engage with me.” 
“I was busy with the report you didn’t finish. Fury needed that.” She explains and hoped he would buy it. 
Clearly he didn’t. “Like you care about the reports. I think you're avoiding me.” 
“I’m not, Tony.” She says with a gentle voice. “Why don’t you come to my room later, and we can...talk.” She smirks at the last word. 
“Alright, I'll come...” He said, before walking away back to his room, excited for what he could only assume was going to happen tonight. 
As soon as she noticed he had left, her smirk dropped “Fuck...”  
Y/N didn’t know what to do. Yes, she had been avoiding him. They had this friend with benefits things, and she knew from the start that it was all that was and it couldn’t be more. But she had catch feelings for the billionaire and she didn’t know what to do. 
Later, Y/N was sitting on her bed with her laptop in her lap finishing another report for Fury when she heard a soft knock on her door. 
“Come in!” She says without moving from her spot. 
Tony opened the door and walked in, a smirk on his face “Hey, sweetheart.” 
She smiles looking at him “Hey.” 
He walked to the bed, sitting down next to her, he was wearing just a tank top and sweatpants “So, you wanted to...talk.” 
Y/N chuckles softly, closing her laptop and putting on her nightstand. Tony leaned against the headboard, and pulled her onto his lap “You know, the way you were acting today had me a bit worried for a second. I thought I'd done something to upset you...” 
“You’ve done nothing.” She smiles. 
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him, his lips next to her ear “Good, I'm glad...” he began peppering light kisses on her neck and began to kiss down her neck, and to her shoulder, his hands slowly running up and down her waist and thighs. She just froze, she didn’t know what do to. Yes, she wanted sex with him, but her heart was screaming at her. 
Tony felt the tension in her body and he pulled away slightly, worried “You okay, sweetie?” 
“Yeah...” She tried to mask it with a smile, but Tony could notice on her voice something was wrong. 
His hands came up to cup her face, keeping her looking at him “You feel a bit tense. Talk to me...” Her smile slightly drops and that worried him even more “Y/N, what's wrong?” 
“I’m sorry...” Her voice was almost a whisper “I don’t think I can do this anymore...” 
“It's okay. We can do this another time.” He says with his hand rubbing her side to comfort her. 
“No, I didn’t mean like that.” 
Tony frowned and looked into her eyes “Then what do you mean?” 
Y/N sighs, before she spoke again “I can’t do this...” she points between them. 
His heart ached a bit at her words “You don't want this anymore?” 
“I'm sorry...” she says, getting off his lap and sitting by his side with her hands in her lap. 
He stayed sitting on the bed, looking at her, trying to hide the sadness that was building inside of him “Why? I thought...I thought things were good between us...” 
Y/N looked at him and she could see the pain on his face “It is...was...I swear it was.” 
“Then...why are you ending this? What changed? What did I do, huh?” he was trying to stay calm, but it was hard. He wanted answers. 
“You did nothing wrong.” She smiles sadly at him. 
“Then why? Do...do you not want me?” He let out a shaky breath, his eyes met hers again. 
“I do. And that’s the problem.” Her voice was low as she spoke. 
That made Stark was more confused now “Why is that a problem? I want you too.” 
“Because I want more.”  
There was silence. He took a few seconds trying to gather his thought before answering her with a frow on his face “But, we agreed from the start that-” 
“I know.” she cuts him “And that's why I'm ending this.” 
Tony et out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair “Y/N, I care about you, but that's- I can't give you what you want...” 
“I know.” She says and he could hear the sadness on her voice. He hated knowing that he was hurting her with his words, but he couldn't give her what she wanted.  
After a few minutes of silence, he spoke again “Do you regret us?” 
“No.” she smiles, looking at him, still with a hint of sadness “Never.” 
He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers “Me neither, sweetheart...” 
Y/N looked down at their hands together “I mean, we still can do the friends part.” 
Stark chuckled sadly, bringing their intertwined hands to his lips “Can friendship really be enough?” 
“It has to be.” She whispers. 
He sighed, hating the way this conversation was going “You know I care a lot about you. I just...I don't do relationships anymore, not after...” 
“I know.” She squeezes his hand slightly “And that’s why I’m not asking for it.” 
“This suck, you know. I'm losing someone I care about, and I hate myself for it.” he ran a hand through his hair frustrated. 
Y/N was feeling her eyes filling up with tears, and she blinks, trying to fight it “Believe me, this is much harder for me.” 
“It's hard for both of us, okay?”he said a bit harshly before immediately regretting it “Fuck...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap.” 
She shakes her head, not wanting to cry in front of him “No, it isn't. You care about me when I...I fell in love.” 
The moment he heard those words, his heart ached even more. He wasn't sure what to say to that... so for a while, he just stayed silent, fiddling with her fingers. His jaw was clenched as he tried to control the emotions coursing through his body...he felt like a terrible person, knowing that he could not return her feelings. “I...I wish I could give you what you want. I really do...” 
“Me too...” 
Tony let out a shaky breath and squeezed the hand of hers that he was still holding. Even though he knew it probably wasn't a good idea, he pulled her a bit closer to him, resting his head on her shoulder “We can still be friends, right?” 
Y/N rest her head on his “Of course.” 
For a while, he let himself just feel the comfort of being close to her. But then he pulled away, reluctantly letting go of her hand and getting up from the bed “I should go...” Y/N just nods, not trusting her voice to answer.  He looked down at her for a moment before leaning down and placing a feather-like kiss on her forehead. Part of him wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go, but instead, he straightened up and without another word, he walked out of her room. 
“Night, Stark...” She says, holding back her tears, knowing that after he left, they would never be this close again. 
“Goodnight, Y/L/N.” He said without looking back, knowing that the sight of her sad face would tear his heart even more. 
Tony walked down the hallway and into his room, walking straight to the mini fridge and grabbing a bottle of liquor. He sat down on the couch but didn't open the bottle just yet. Instead, he buried his head in his hands and let all his bottled-up emotions flood out of his every pore for what felt like hours. He sat there for hours, trying to get himself under control. But the mere idea that the one person he was closest to in the Tower was no longer his... that he had no right to touch, kiss, or hold... he grabbed the bottle of liquor, taking a long sip, as a single thought echoed in his mind ‘You're a complete idiot, Stark.’ 
Y/N stood in her bed, bringing her knees to her chest and finally letting the tears fload after Tony left until she eventually cried herself to sleep. In just a few minutes, Tony finished the first bottle and opened the second, the words she said earlier echoed in his mind. I fell in love. 
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The first week had been rough for both of them. They were avoiding each other, which mean they were avoiding the kitchen, the common room, the training room. While Y/N was more quiet than usual and saying she was suffering from allergies to justify that sometimes her eyes and nose were red, Tony just was in a incredible bad mood all the time. The team watched the whole situation with worry and confusion. Everyone knew there was something wrong with Tony, usually when he was in a bad mood, he would go around the tower, annoying and trying to get a reaction out of everyone. But now, he was practically avoiding any interaction. 
-- 
Tony was in the kitchen, enjoying the silence with a coffee in his hand, when Clint, Thor and Steve entered and stopped in front of him. He let out a tired sigh, knowing that wouldn’t be good “What do you all want?” 
Thor studied his face, before speaking “I know that look.” 
“What look?” 
“That look” Thor points at him “The same one I had when Jane broke up with me.” 
Tony rolled his eyes, annoyed with the direction the conversation was going “I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine.” 
“Yeah, Thor.” Clint started “That would imply that Stark was dating someone.” 
“Yes, thank you for that useless addition, bird brain.” Tony rolled his eyes as he leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his coffee “So, are you all just going to keep staring at me, or you have something to say?” 
Steve spoke this time “What's going on, Tony? And don't say nothing, because we all know that you're not fine.” 
Stark groaned, his shoulders slumping a bit “Just...it's nothing, alright? Can you just leave it be?” 
This time it was Clint who spoke “No, because obviously something is happening. Or had happened.” 
He took a deep breath, trying to control his temper “Can you just drop this? I just...I don't want to talk about her.” 
“Oh, so it is a woman?” Thor ask curious. 
He pinched the bridge of his nose “Damn it, yes, Thor. It was a woman, okay?” 
There was a moment of silence, Thor and Clint sharing a knowing look while Steve just stared at him “Well, what happened?” 
Despite himself, Tony’s voice trembled a bit when he spoke “She...she told me she wanted more. And I couldn't give her what she wanted. So we...we just ended things.” He took a gulp of his coffee to try and hide the turmoil he was still feeling “It's done, alright? It's over, and there's nothing that can be changed. Can we please just drop it?” 
The three of them study him, before Steve spoke in a gentle tone “You love her” It wasn't a question. 
Tony didn't even try to deny it this time. He let out a shaky breath and nodded, his eyes downcast “Yeah. I do.” 
“She loves you, right?” Steve asked “Since you said she wanted more, I thought...” 
He nodded and chuckled bitterly “That's the funny part. She does. But i made it clear from the start that I couldn't give her what she wanted. And we agreed to keep it casual. But...she said she still fell in love with me. 
“Arrangements can be changed.” Thor says. 
“It's not that simple, Thor.” Tony let out a tired sigh “What she wants...a serious relationship, commitment, all of that...I can't give her that.” 
“Why not? What are you so afraid of?” Steve was the one who spoke this time. 
“I'm not...” he starts to deny but stop mid-sentence and let out a frustrated breath “I'm not afraid.” he paused for a moment, looking over at Steve before continuing “I'm...I'm a mess, alright? I have demons that still haunt me, nightmares that don't let me sleep more than a few hours. I can be a dick in general and I...I haven't done the whole "relationship" thing in years. I can't get involved in that again.” 
“Don't you remember the last time he dated Pepper?” Clint says to Steve “He looked like hell after they broke up.” 
Tony rolls his eyes “Thanks a lot, bird brain, for remind me about one of the most painful times of my life.” 
Thor nods, agreeing “Yeah, you were just a little worse than you are now. The only thing that took you out of the misery was Y/N moving here and you becoming friends.” Steve and Clint looked at Thor. 
Tony groaned, realizing Thor was absolutely right. He never said it out loud, but deep down, he knew that the only reason he hadn't completely lost his brain after the whole Pepper situation, was Y/N. Having her around, being her friend, helped a lot during those dark months. He rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling the exhaustion again “What's the point of this conversation, guys? Even if I wanted too, it's too late now. She ended things because I didn't want to give her more than what we had.” 
“The question here is simple: Do you wanna give her what she wants?” Barton asked him. 
Stark looks at him for a moment, before answering slowly and honestly “Yes...I do.” 
Steve puts a hand on his shoulder “Then talk to her. I'm sure she'll listen.” 
He chuckled bitterly “It's funny that you think it's that simple. We ended things weeks ago and we've been avoiding each other ever since. You really think she'll want to talk to me now?” 
“If you’re talking about who I think you’re talking...she’ll listen.” Clint says. Obviously, after Thor made that comment, Barton and Rogers realized who he was talking about. 
And if everything couldn’t get worse, Y/N walked into the kitchen to get some water just in that moment, but she stops seeing Tony and the guys. She knew if she turned back, it would be suspicious, so she walked to the fridge to get her water “Hi...” 
Tony’s body tenses as soon as he saw her, his heart starting to pound hard on his chest. He quickly stands up from where he was resting his back against the counter, his eyes fixed on her. “Hey...”  
The three other Avengers made some lame excuses and left them alone. Tony stayed in his spot against the counter, watching the other members of the team leave the kitchen. Silence fell between them as they both stood a few feet apart from each other. 
“So... how’s it going?” Y/N spoke quietly, trying to make some small talk. 
“Like crap...” Tony didn't want to lie or pretend to be fine, and he knew she wouldn't believe it anyway. So he decided to go for honesty “How about you?” 
“Same.” 
He didn't like the tiredness in her voice, and he hated that he was responsible for it “You're not sleeping well either, right?” Y/N just answers with a head shake. He sighs softly, his heart clenching at the thought that she was suffering with the situation between them as much as he was “Same here...” 
“What a duo, huh?” She gave him a sad smile. 
Despite the situation, he chuckled softly “Yeah...” there was a moment of silence between them before he spoke again “You're avoiding me...” 
“I am...I needed a bit of space.” There was a minute of silence before she spoke again “You're avoiding me too...” 
He looked down for a few seconds, ashamed with himself “I...yeah, I know. I just...I didn't know if you wanted to see me...or if you would want to talk to me...” 
“Tony...” she walks closer to him, putting her water aside “I'm not mad at you or anything. I was sincere when I said we could still be friend.” 
As she walked closer to him, he looked at her face carefully, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. He clenched his jaw tightly as a wave of guilt washed over him. “You're not sleeping.” it wasn't a question, it was more a statement of his realization. 
Y/N rolls her eyes “Have you heard a word I said?” 
Despite everything, one thing he had missed the most was her eye-rolling, and he felt a tiny sense of relief as she did it now “I heard you. I also notice that you're looking like a zombie. You should be sleeping.” 
“You should be too. And not drinking.” 
He chuckled bitterly “Yeah, well. I sleep better after I drink. It helps with the nightmares.” 
“...they came back?” Y/N’s face softens, she knew about his nightmares. 
“Yes, a couple days after...we ended things.” He looked down, avoiding saying the word 'break up' because he still didn't want to believe that's what really had happened. 
“Are you okay?”  
Tony lifts his head, his eyes meeting hers. As much as he wanted to lie and say that he was fine, he wasn't able to do it “No, I'm not...truth is, I haven't been okay at all since you end things with me. I'm...I'm a mess, really. I drink every night, I can't sleep more than a few hours each night, and...and I miss you. I miss you so damn much.” He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to control the emotions he was feeling and the words he was saying, but he continued “I know I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be telling you all of this. I have no right...but I do miss you. I miss our nights together, our movie nights...and most of all, I miss talking to you, having you by my side...and I can't lie and say I don't miss being with you...” he laughed bitterly “Hell, I miss us...I should have never let you go...I should have...I should have said yes. I should have said yes to everything you wanted. But I was scared...” 
“Scared of what...?” She asks without looking away from him. 
“Scared of committing, scared of being in a relationship again, being trapped...terrified of ending up like I did after Pepper broke up with me...” He let out a strangled breath “I was so goddamn terrified of losing myself again, of having my heart broken again, that I ended up pushing the only person who was willing to be with me, away. And what the hell was the point since I end up breaking my own heart anyway...” 
“You said 'was'...” she spoke quietly. 
Tony looked at her again, his eyes going wide in realization of what he said. “Yes...”his voice was barely above a whisper, but he didn't look away from her “I said 'was'...” He could see the look on her face becoming almost a hopeful one. “I was terrified...” he repeated, as he moved so he was standing right in front of her. He hesitantly reached out his hands to touch hers and she did not pull back.  
A tiny sigh of relief escaped his lips as she let him touch her, her hands so much smaller than his. He gently laced their fingers together, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hands and Tony took a deep breath before continuing “I know what I want...and I want you. I want us...everything. I wanna take you out on dates, I wanna sleep with you and see you pretty face when I wake up. I want to watch silly movies with you, and laugh at your silly comments. I wanna be with you when you're not feeling well...I want everything. Hell, I want to marry you, I want a family...I want a future and I can't see one without you on it.” he paused for a moment, but continued in a soft whisper “And the most important thing...I want to make you happy. I want to make you smile and laugh every single day. I want to give you everything I have, everything I am...hell, I want to give you the goddamn moon if that's what you want. But most of all...I want to give you my heart...because you're the only one I trust with it...” 
Y/N didn’t answer, she just cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. The moment her lips brushed against his, he groaned loudly before cupping her face with his hands and pulling her even closer, the kiss becoming more and more urgent and frantic as he let out all the pent-up feelings and emotions through it. She parted the kiss, but didn't pull back “Are you sure?” 
Tony rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed and his breathing becoming more ragged as he tried to regain control over himself. He opened his eyes and looked at her face, one of his hands moving to brush against her cheeks “Never been more sure of anything in my life, sweetheart.” 
He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before continuing “Y/N Y/L/N...will you be my girlfriend?”  
Y/N smile and nods “Yes.” He let out another breath of relief, a huge wave of happiness washing over his entire body.  
They stayed in that position for a few seconds before he leaned in to kiss her again, this time the kiss was gentle and unrushed. “God, I missed you so much...” 
“I missed you too...” 
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, her face resting on his chest and his face buried in her hair. He took a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of having her in his arms once again, and the realization that it wouldn't just be a fling. It was real, it was more than physical desire. He cared for her, he loved her, and she was his “I love you.” 
Y/N smiles “Say it again...” 
Tony smiles at her request “I love you.” he says, gently pulling her face away from his chest so he could look directly in her eyes “I'm in love with you...And I plan on saying it every damn day for the rest of our lives.” 
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bitterbutblue · 2 days
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Is it bad i can imagine Robin as a hopelessly inlove girl like ofmgsh?? Like knowing how popular she is, she doesn’t have an attraction to anyone, seeing how some of her fans are just obsessed. She doesn’t like any of that.
But when she sees how polite and respectful you are, she’s immediately hooked.
Like you’re taking a liking to new cafe? You'll find that all your orders are on the house, already paid. Needing to vent? Her phone is always available ready for any of your calls or messages with flowers mysteriously on your doorstep the next day. You’re sick? She immediately drops everything to take a drive to your house with medicine and some of your favourite snacks in hand.
Please i love Robin, and i will ramble on and on about her everyday 🥺
~🍷
the way i manifested for robin before my final exams like i sat down with a group of friends and we did a little prayer circle and i hit the ten pull button while on 5050 adn we got robin and i proceeded to absolutely NAIL the exams on that day. she's my favourite for a reason.
⤷ you were just one of the people who worked in the fan meet and greets, setting up the venue and whatnot.
⤷ everyone there was going insaneee about THE robin being there, and you were excited too but upon seeing the way her fans treated her or behaved when seeing her, you couldn't help but feel bad
⤷ poor bby looked so uncomfortable, especially when the men are talking to her and trying to touch her as she walks off the stage. so you quickly took action (knowing it mayyyy cost you your job cause they could file complaints) but you couldn't care less.
⤷ you walk up to the man and aggressively shoulder him, pushing him aside as you approach robin to ask if she's okay with a very gentle smile
⤷ oh she's so gay.
⤷ fell for you hard and fast. literally offered you a job on the spot and you were like wtf
⤷ the entire time you worked as her assistant she clearly was in love with you. remembered your birthday, your favourite drinks depending on your mood, your favourite foods, snacks, everything. Always ordered a drink for you too, and you felt bad but she keeps insisting on treating you
⤷ no assistant of hers has ever been as caring as you!! always looking out for her, and arguing with the higher ups if you feel like they're pushing her too far and that was reallyyy what made her fall in love
⤷ you cared so much about her, not just because she's a celebrity but because she's a person. it's been so long she's forgotten how it feels to actually be cared for and not just looked at
⤷ she confesses to you one day when you snapped at her manager for commenting on her body weight again. you were sick of it- robin had barely gained anything but they wouldn't stop talking to her about losing weight so you snapped.
⤷ the manager demanded to have you fired but robin refused. instead she had sunday fire the manager.
⤷ it was a weird surge of emotions she felt in the moment, having someone actually look out for her. your face was red from anger and your breathing was unsteady, a look of pure irritation in your eyes but the moment you laid your eyes back on her the irritation fades into nothing but worry and she's smitten.
⤷ she asks you out on a date when you were walking her down to her car that'll drive you home and you thought you were dreaming.
⤷ she giggled at how u just stared at her, looking so confused and shocked
⤷ she kissed you on the cheek and your entire face just turned brick red
⤷ the next day, she got you another drink. except this time there was a heart doodled on the side, and a promotion letter next to it- asking you to be her manager.
⤷ the most loving girlfriend SERIOUSLYYYYY she doesn't take SHIT from anyone if they say anything bad about you. okay they can talk shit about her, but YOU? she'll start throwing hands
⤷ now that you're dating she spends even more money on u like christ, you knew she was rich but this is a whole other level.
⤷ rented out your favourite cat cafe for the day so you two could have a date in silence and peace without the stress of the cameras
⤷ wrote an entire album about you and you melted when you listened to it for the first time
⤷ despite how busy she was, she still makes you the most thoughtful handmade gifts. she learned to crochet to make you a beanie for when it gets cold when she realised you didn't have one in possession
⤷ she's your lover girl, forever and always <33
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pzdragon666 · 22 hours
Text
Wavewave week Day 4 - Friendships
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Friendship
Tf fic
Ft. Soundwave, Shockwave, Illusion, Megatron
-
Soundwave was known to be very shy whenever he'd suddenly fall in love with someone.
Even back in the pits...
It was the same cycle.
And as always, he needed help this time. With Shockwave...
"/I don't need help./" Soundwave protested.
Both Megatron and Illusion were pushing him to Shockwave's lab, ignoring his complaints.
"Soundwave, every time you have a crush, you always back out and not interact with them. I expected you to be much braver than this." Megatron said.
"《And you literally have a breakdown whenever some other older bots got what you wanted, and this time, we're helping your hopeless aft》" Illusion types the code onto the panel.
As soon as the door opens, the door immediately closes.
Both turned to Soundwave.
"Soundwave." Megatron warned.
"/I'm not talking to him!/" He yelled.
Megatron rubbed his temples as Illusion sighed.
"《It's not so hard! It's fucking Shockwave! He's like- the most nonemotional guy in the face of Cybertron. If he doesn't like you, he'd be straightforward about it》"
Soundwave slumped as she said that.
Megatron hits her helm.
"Don't listen to her. I'm sure he likes you. Trust me, he talks about you a lot." Megatron said.
Soundwave looked torwards the door, feeling a small twinge of hope settke in his spark.
"/Alright, I'll do it. Wish me luck/" With that, he turned around and entered the lab.
"《Can we kill Shockwave if he rejects him?》" Illusion asked her brother.
Megatron shook his helm.
-
Soundwave entered the lab, seeing all sorts of experiments around. He then noticed Shockwave working on something.
He quietly strolls forward.
"/Shockwave./"
He turned around.
"Soundwave. I believe you have something to tell me." He spoke.
Soundwave's visor brightens as he said that.
"/Shockwave: knows why I'm here?/"
Shockwave nodded.
"I got an alert someone trying to enter my lab. I accessed the cameras outside and hears your conversation with our lord and weapon specialist."
Soundwave gulps.
"/what does Shockwave think...?/" He asked, bracing himself for the answer.
"I must say, I did not expect one of my superior officers to reciprocate my own feelings." He said.
Shockwave took his servo, lovking theirs together.
"I would like to get to know you more." Shockwave's finials moved eagerly.
"/Soundwave: looking forward to it/" He squeezed his servo.
-
Both siblings were trying to listen in on their conversation, which was hard.
"《Think he actually did it?》" She asked.
Megatron shrugged.
"Well- he's not running out like usual. Maybe he did it." Megatron said.
"《Good for him.》" She said.
"....Illusion."
"《What?》"
"Get off my shoulders."
-
@chamm0y @kyamo18 @mr-playlist @splashscreenofficial @kiyuu-draws @radiatwave @robomusical @bumblecow @lanth57
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georgiapeach30513 · 11 hours
Text
Much Too Fast, Part 5
Summary: it's time for everyone to talk
Pairings: Curtis X Reader
Rating: mature
Warnings:  explicit language, Curtis and Tati arguing, flashing, sexual tension/frustration, skinny dipping, wet/dry humping, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 6.9K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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“And say please,” Poet slams her hands on the high chair, screeching, and you shake your head no. “Poe, you have got to say please,” your voice is still so soft, but the sweet baby slams her hands on the high chair, screaming out no.
“Poet!” Poet looks at Tati, puckering out her bottom lip, looking up at you sympathetically. Tati’s patience with Poet was virtually nonexistent, “I am tired, and I don’t want to listen to this screaming!” Poet lifts her hands up, making grabby hands up at you. Big drops of tears hug her lash line, and she softly whispers please. You didn’t want her to say please because of screaming. But you will hold her when she needs comforting.
Tati massages her temples. Circling her fingers over and over the area, paying you no mind, so you pull Poet out of her high chair. Shushing her as you bounce her around. The rules never seem to make sense when Tati is here. She wants Poet to learn to be independent, but when she’s here she just wants her daughter to be appeased as long as she’s quiet. Whatever it takes to keep her from making noise.
“Tati?”
“What?” You hold Poet even tighter at her mom’s harsh word. She never looks at you; just stays preoccupied with nursing her tender head.
“Can I ask you a question?” A question made things seem mild. You had so many questions to ask her, and none of which involved her daughter. You second guess this conversation because it truly wasn’t any of your business, but Curtis had made it your business. Over and over again he has made it your business because he is too persistent and needy, and dammit, you’re cracking.
Her arms slam on the table, and she glares at you. Her beady perfectly lines eyes bore holes into yours for daring to try and talk to her. For someone who’s head hurts, she’s being painfully noisy with that slap on the wood. She looks so irritated that you’re talking to her that you nearly change your mind. “Are you wanting a raise or something?”
“No.”
“No? Hmm, well, fine, I’ll give you a raise,” now she massages the bridge of her nose, ignoring you yet again. So you clear your throat, “What is it now?”
“My questions,” she moves her hand from her nose, glaring at you again. Clearly multiple questions isn’t something she wants to entertain. “I’m sorry, it’s just one question,” why did you fear her? Was it because she held a lot in her hands? “Umm, it’s probably none of my business.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t ask it. Grace, can you just spit it out. I really don’t have time for this. I have a headache, and I’m tired, and ready to take a nap,” that’s what she’s always doing here. You’re aware that you’re the nanny, but who was the mother?
“I’m very confused with yours and Curtis’ dynamics and relationship.”
Tati snorts, shaking her head. Her manicured fingers roll over the table before she looks at them like she’s bored. “That isn’t a question. But I should have figured. My husband is a very traditionally attractive man. But he’s stunted,” what a weird fucking thing to say about that man that spends more time with her daughter than she does. “I know there’s a lot of things about him that you may find attractive, but you deserve better.”
That took a turn. She didn’t know that you knew about her not even finding Curtis attractive sexually. She didn’t know that you knew that she had another life with a woman. You almost have a feeling she’s in love with that woman, and you’re falling for Curtis, but didn’t feel comfortable with this predicament. You didn’t want to share, you wanted him all to yourself. And Poet.
“No, I don’t love that man,” rude. There’s something that sits so grossly in your stomach about ‘that man’. That is the father of her beautiful daughter. And one she didn’t spend much time with. One that was tapping on your arm, and smiling up at you. “Curtis and I have never even been in love. This was a mistake. I got to go,” she pushes her chair back, standing abruptly before those stilettos click out of the kitchen.
There had to be some form of warmth that she possessed at some point for Curtis to have been friends with her. But now all you see is stress, and disdain for her life here at this house. Bitterness always coats her face and actions. She slams the door behind her, and Poet looks up at you gasping with a smile before she throws both hands up, “Yay!”
“You’re rotten, you know that?”
“Yep. Uh!” She looks out the back door, and to the pool. She loves swimming and spending the days outside. She’d swim in her float or your arms all day. Tati didn’t give you any clear indications on where you were with things. She didn’t give much at all other than she wasn’t in love, and Curtis wasn’t worth the time for you. And you didn’t believe that at all. You see how he loves his daughter, and know he has so much more love to give to a partner.
There is a part of you that wants to take Tati’s advice because this is a complete mess. It’s a disaster area. But you know what you feel when you’re with him. You know the way he looks at you, and smiles at you. And you love his daughter. This is all much too fast, and you didn’t know how to slam the breaks on it, but maybe you weren’t meant to.
Tati gave you absolutely no answers other than she didn’t love Curtis. She might not have told you that they didn’t have sex, but judging by her answers, you doubt she does anything with Curtis. But…dammit, you feel so conflicted. An ache sits in your stomach because you are too attached. You want him, and Poet, and want to go on a date, and not be hidden out here while she galivants around the world with her girlfriend. You want to be proud to be with Curtis.
“Poe Poe, if you eat your breakfast, we can go swimming, okay?”
“Tay,” she makes her sweet grabby hands for her plate, and you place her back in the high chair. “Pes!” she’s learning manners, and that’s more than you can say for her horny dad or hateful mother.
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Tati’s car is in the garage. Your car is here. And there’s a very cute distinctive giggle coming from the pool. His kryptonite. And now you’ve brought his daughter into it. He sighs, walking out of the garage and to the back of the house. Stopping at the fence to stare at you slightly splashing Poet just to make her giggle.
Her chunky little legs kick about, causing her tube to spin around, and then you pick her up out of the tube. You lift her above your head, fully standing up out of water, and his mouth falls open. Poet giggles down at you, as streams of water flow down your curves. You’re too sexy to be holding his daughter.
And then you squat back down into the water, taking Poet with you, and she splashes around. Continuing to giggle, and smile up at you. She crashes her mouth into you kissing your jawline. Having a time of her life in the dreaded pool. The bane of his existence. This is bad. Great, and amazing. But bad. Too many feelings and emotions course through his bloodstream. Warmth and passionate heat.
He looks down at his pants, taking a deep breath, and telling himself that he would really like to join in the family swimming time, so he needs to calm down. Inhale and exhale. Relax, and get your fucking mind out of the gutter. Who knew he had a goddamn breeding kink because all he can think about is enjoying fucking a baby into you. Not accidentally, but pumping you full of him every night until it stuck. He’s a disgusting man.
Once he’s centered himself, he slings the gate open, and Poet screams at him, “Dada!”
“Hey, baby. Do you mind if I change and come swim with you and Grace?”
“Yay!”
“I was wondering when you were going to come inside the gate, instead of lingering out there watching us,” his tongue slowly exits his mouth, and he traces his luscious bottom lip with it. Pulling the lip back in his mouth where he bites on it. Smirking and shrugging while walking to his bedroom. “He’s a menace,” a fucking menace that makes you squeeze your thighs together, and regulate your breathing because you’re holding a baby, and can’t do anything about the need to touch and rub on him.
Poet giggles, blowing raspberries and points all over the pool. Telling you, in her way, where she wants to swim to. You ferry her around the pool, letting her splash along the way. The happiest baby you’ve ever met, and when she playfully gasps, and looks towards her dad’s room, that smile gets even bigger.
Curtis and his hairy tits jog to the diving board, and he dives it. Swimming under water towards you, and you back away, “Dada go?” Poet looks at the dark figure that travels in the water, until he pops up right in front of her face. He grabs onto your hips, keeping you in place, and she begs for him to hold her. “Dada!”
“Hey, baby girl. Come ‘ere,” reaching for her he makes sure to give your side more than too much of a touch. He skims his hands from your hips up your side, and you bite back a whimper. That devilish grin pops up as he stares so intently at you. “What have you and Grace been doing today? Just being water babies?” She smiles, laughing up at him.
“You got home early.”
“I liked what I was coming home to,” silence. You can’t respond to that without sounding like a twittering school girl, or a hateful bitch. He sure knows how to lay things on thick, and it just makes you weak. In an alternative life, you can imagine him coming home, and being all excited while you playfully flirt, and still have fun with the kids. You can see him smacking your ass playfully, while the kids are too busy to see their parents are setting up the long foreplay for the night.
Having hours of buildup, until each and every one of the kids are asleep, and Curtis and you lock the door, and have fun with each other’s bodies. It seems so easy, and yet this situation is a mess. Tati at least let you know that there aren't any lingering feelings with Curtis.
“I spoke with your wife today,” you begin. Curtis dips his mouth underwater, pretending to play with Poet, but he’s watching you. Too much. “She confirmed about not having any feelings. But she didn’t seem to think too highly of you, and that makes me confused.”
“Probably because I wasn’t enough to make her straight, because being attracted to women is who she is, and it’s easier to blame other people than accept that, and there’s no one at fault here. Tati being in love with a woman shouldn’t hurt anyone. The issue is that it has stalled me from moving on with you. It’s not fair to Monica either. It’s not fair to Poe because this baby knows that while her mom wouldn’t hurt her, she doesn’t want to be a full time part of her life. And I don’t think she enjoys her very much,” you can confirm that. But he already knows.
You wade the water. Making circles around his body, and he spins right along with you. Looking between you and Poet. “I’m crazy, but this feels right. Playing in the pool with my two favorite girls. Staring at your nipples poking through your bathing suit.”
“Curtis!” the bastard laughs as you circle your hands over your chest. “You are holding a baby.”
“She can’t really talk now.”
“Is all our conversations going to end up in the perverted realm of things?” Is there more than this burning desire to just fuck each other? Or is the need to have each other shadowing anything else?
“No,” you raise your eyebrows in a challenge. “No, but I think sex should be fun. I think that life is too serious, and why can’t I shamelessly flirt with a girl I find attractive?” That’s not flirting, and he knows it. That is being a horny devil.
“I don’t want that serious of a relationship with someone. I’ve done the five star restaurants, and the dinners with family and it’s this big ordeal. I don’t want that. I want to have fun. I want to be able to joke with you,” that boyish grin fades a moment. “This house is beautiful, and perfect in its way, but I don’t need this. I do like this pool.”
“Do you?” You couldn’t tell he liked it at all…
“Yeah,” his voice is menacingly low. And you feel it right to your core. You wade further away from him. Keeping your hands low in the water. It’s wrong, and you know it is. But sometimes a little teasing never hurt anyone. Poet is paying attention too much attention to her dad’s beard. That beautiful face of hair. A face that you would like to ride, and instead you’re going to rub one out alone. Again.
You grab a side of the gusset of your panties, moving it to the side. But you think twice about it, and pull it back to cover yourself. Had he not had that sweet baby in his arms, you would have asked him to look under the water. He makes you want to sin in too many ways.
“It’s hard to try and figure out what is acceptable when there’s a baby between us. But you can try that again tonight. When you meet me out here after Poet’s put to bed,” he stalks towards the shallow end of the pool. Backing you up. Up. And up, until you collapse on the stairs. “I’d really like to see what I’ve been missing. Without touching that is.”
“On one condition,” your voice is so hoarse, and you try to keep some decency. You’re too weak when it comes ot him.
“Anything.”
“You talk to Tati tonight. She can’t hold your feelings hostage forever. And I don’t want to wait on you forever. I’m greedy and I want you right now.”
Poet splashes and splashes, reaching towards you before Curtis relinquishes her into your arms. “What if…what if I talk to her, and she doesn’t like my ultimatum? Because I think she knows.”
“Knows what?” You know what time it is. If Tati is going to be here, she’s already here, and about to have her takeout delivered. She could already be walking to the door. Maybe she’s peeked outside the window, wondering what the noise was. Right now you didn’t care. You’re willing to break all the rules for just a kiss. Just a chance of normalcy for a moment.
You know exactly what he’s talking about as he gets closer. Looming over you with that giant stature, and ignoring Poet pulling down your top and exposing yourself. Curtis puts his nose right on yours, and you forget how to breathe. Have to focus on the rise and fall of his chest because you’re breathing is irregular.
“She knows I’m finally falling for someone. She knows that this has been a slow road, because she knows normally, I just fuck and move on. That’s why she chose me,” he pulls your top to cover your body again. “She thought I’d never ask for a divorce.”
You swallow deeply. Ignoring the door closing. He wanted to get caught, so he can have a discussion with her. “So are you asking for a divorce?”
“You said I have to if I want to be with you,” Curtis stands up, reaching for his daughter, and you hand her off. Letting him walk out of the pool. “And I want to actually try something real for once, so I want to be with you.”
You let out a long breath. Watching as he walks into his room with Poet. Surely going to dry both of them off, and dress so they can join Tati for dinner. Your chest heaves as you let the intensity of that moment wash over you. It leaves you in such a weird spot because Tati is your employer. And here you just were ready to flash her husband your cunt, while he held her daughter. You are losing all self control and self respect for yourself.
Curtis is making you crazy. Imagining that you and him were a normal couple that didn’t start off as a stranger fucking you within an inch of your life. What were you doing? You were risking everything. All of your morals. Ready to throw everything away for him. For this. To make this thing work. What the fuck? How was Tati even going to respond to that?
Whether you’re the one with Curtis or — you hate to think about it being someone else, but either way, it wasn’t fair. He deserves the chance at someone more than sex. And he’s somehow chosen you, and it makes you lightheaded. You’re horny and pent up as fuck. But you like him. Like his daughter, and in order for this to work, you do need to show some decorum and just wait.
Sighing, you get up out of the pool yourself. You need food. Probably alcohol. But definitely food. And to fuck yourself, so you’re not so fucking horny when you meet Curtis at the pool when the lights go outside. That pool is an aphrodisiac. You get in it and you need body parts touching. Ugh! Why is this so hard to not be such a slut with him? You’re horny. You’re just horny. It has nothing to do with actually having feelings for him.
Nope. Not you. Food. Come. Alcohol. Make yourself come again? How many times would it take so you’re not ready to jump on top of Curtis and ride him like your life depended on it? Alcohol. Just a little, not a lot. You can do this. You and Curtis were going to talk, and see where this goes. That’s all. That’s absolutely all you were going to do. Yep.
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Curtis’ fingers roll on the table, and he looks at Poet. Then at the table. Then his Chinese takeout. Then his chopsticks. Then back to Poet. Everywhere but his ‘wife’. And Tati just glares at him. Chewing her food slowly, and being too aggressive with the chopsticks.
Watching the coward as he blatantly ignores her. After the conversation with you this morning, she could tell you wanted to fuck her husband. And judging by the two of you in the pool, he wanted to fuck you, too. Asshole. How dare he dishonor the marriage like that. He didn’t care about how it made her look. He just needs to get his dick wet.
She knows she’s being ridiculous, and Curtis knows about Monica. He’s met Monica. Actually likes her. But he is sneaking behind her back. He’s probably snuck right into that pool house, and fucked you already. Walking around, and pretending that he’s never touched you. Jerk. He’s such a pig headed man.
She lays her chopsticks on the side of her bowl, places her elbows on the table, and then rests her chin on her arms. That sickeningly sweet business smile spreads over her face, but lacks any warmth. “How long have you been fucking the nanny?”
Curtis doesn’t look away from Poet at first. He gives her another bite of food before his attention goes back to Tati, “Let’s not do this in front of our daughter.”
“Oh, I know she’s our daughter. I carried her for nine fucking months, because you couldn’t pull out properly.”
“And now you fuck Monica.”
“And you’re fucking that girl!” Tati’s voice is shrill as she losing control, but Curtis’ remains collected.
“Do not call her a girl! And, no. I’m not fucking her. I have fucked her,” Tati gasps, causing Curtis’ eyes to roll in the back of her head. “Yes, Tati, it was before I even knew her. It was supposed to be a one night stand with a girl that picked me up on the side of the road.”
“You’re lucky to be alive! Poet could have lost her father, and then…”
“You’d have to actually be a mother?” Her hand slams on the table, and Curtis stands up quickly when Poet’s lip puckers out, “We’re done with this conversation since you can’t be an adult.”
“You’re cheating on me!” He chuckles, pulling Poet out of her high chair, and he holds her close to him. Letting her lay her head against his chest.
“No, I’m not. We’re not together. Just legally, and I’m — I’m filing. I’ve been patient, Tat, but you’re living a life, and I’m not. I’ve met an amazing woman, and we can’t even move forward because of this shame of a marriage. We were always supposed to be friends. Things went way too far, and now we’ve even lost our friendship. We’re roommates that share a child.”
Tati worries her lip, something she only did during deep thought, so it gives Curtis enough reason to sit down. She’s at least considering his words. He waits on her to work through everything, as long as she wasn’t raising her voice and causing Poet distress, he could be here. He reaches over to his daughter’s plate, grabbing her something to nibble on. He smiles at her, as she gnaws on her dinner..
“Tater tot.”
“Don’t call me that,” her voice is short, but it doesn’t raise, and her eyes linger on the immaculate table. “I thought we had a deal?” Tati being an only child is used to having things her way. Everything always worked out for her.
“That I stay married to you forever, when a woman that I may be in love with can never be my wife? You thought I was forever going to be slut, so that’s why you thought this stupid agreement would work forever. How does Monica feel about being your dirty secret?”
“I love her,” the confidence Tati exudes disappears, and her shoulders slump. He sounds just like Monica.
“Not enough. You roam around the world on your little vacations, but she doesn’t go to family dinners. She doesn’t have a relationship with Poet, and I told her she should,” Tati’s nose scrunches up, shaking her head no. “Can you at least say it?” She shakes her head no faster. Covering her eyes with her hand. “Tati. Just tell me, and we can move forward. Your therapist said you have to admit it.”
“I sound like a terrible person,” no, right now she sounds like a terrible person. Curtis wouldn’t hold those words against her.
“It’s only terrible if we continue this dance. I can take care of her,” Tati whispers something, but Curtis doesn’t hear her. “Tati, say it. Step one.”
“I love her in my way.”
“I know you do.”
“I’d never hurt her.”
“I have never thought you would.”
“Does,” Tati sniffles, looking up at Curtis instead of the table. Glancing at her daughter with a smile, “Does she want kids?”
“I’ve never really asked. I think so,” he knows you do. You’re a perfect mom, and you deserve a child’s firsts.
“You know I can’t just tell my parents?” Curtis shrugs. He didn’t care what she told her parents, he wanted her to tell him. “You know, that your life will forever be altered?”
“It’s been that way since she was born,” Curtis made all the changes in having a child, while she didn’t make any.
“I don’t want to be a mom,” relief floods over her body, and tears break through her polished veneer. She’s been living a lie, and didn’t know how to stop it from spiraling. Gulping, she wipes at her eyes, and shimmies her shoulders. Deep breaths. One. Two. Three. “I’ve got to go.”
“Tati?”
“Just…I don’t care, just don’t go flaunting her around town. And I won’t sign my rights over until you’re married to someone I approve of. You can have sole custody like we discussed. But…I don’t want anyone to know before I’m ready. I’m going over to Monica’s. Have the fucking house,” her heels start to click out the door, but Curtis clears his throat.
“I’ll give you two weeks,” Her mouth drops open. She isn’t usd to negotiations, especially with him. He always gave her what she wanted. “I’m done waiting, Tati. Poet will be one in three weeks. You’re not doing anyone any favors by avoiding talking to your parents. And if they have a problem with who you truly are in love with, that’s on them. You will always have me and Poet, and you can be aunt Tati.”
Curtis senses her frustration. Can tell that she is irritated, but she smiles. Her smile actually reaches her eyes, and the warmth he loved about her shines through. She really didn’t want to be a mom. “I don’t want Poet to know about you. I mean who you are to her.”
“That’s fine. I — I had my tubes tied anyways. I didn’t — she’s not a mistake, but I don’t want kids. I never wanted kids. It’s not in me. Do you hate me?” He shakes his head no, and Tati sighs. “Don’t make her hate me. Either of them. I was ugly this morning.”
“And then you ran away.”
“It’s what I do best with this situation. But I don’t run from Monica. I run to her,” Curtis silently thanks her. He knows it’s been a long time, and hard work with her therapist to say all of that. Everything she said, all that she admitted to.
“I’m proud of you, Tater Tot.”
“I said don’t call me that,” Tati smiles as she walks towards the front door. Leaving a house that was never her home. Leaving a marriage that she never wanted, a daughter she loved, but didn’t need. A daughter that she is okay to step back and not raise. Give up all that responsibility to Curtis and whatever woman he chose as Poet’s mom. And she’d sign everything away. Let his wife adopt her and Poet become hers.
And for once, she’s not running away. She’s finally going home.
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The house is eerily quiet. Even in the pool house, the only thing you hear is your racing heart. Having to look into the mirror to see if you can see it beating out of your chest. Thankfully, it isn’t, but your chest heaves with bated anticipation. Wrapping a towel around your body, you sit and wait like a fool in love. With the blinds open, you stare at the lit up pool, waiting. You won’t be the first one out there, even if you’re staring into that water like it can answer your questions.
You have bared enough of yourself recently, and will soon physically do that, but you need Curtis to be the one to lose control this time. Need him to tell you what you deserve to hear. At nine o’clock on the dot Curtis emerges from his bedroom. He looks towards the pool house, before going to the diving board, and diving in.
He comes up on the other end of the pool, and sits at the table. Resting his elbows on the tile before holding his head in contemplation. Water drips down his face, and you want to lick him clean. No. No. One thing at a time. And with how you’re dressed, you’re already going to cause him to have a heart attack. Deep breaths.
You step out of the pool house, but his head remains in his palms. You walk right up to the steps, and drop your towel. Making your way into the pool too slowly. Your chest is fully submerged when Curtis lifts up. His mouth in that crooked cocky smirk when he wiggles two fingers to you. Beckoning you to come closer, and you shake your head no.
“Earlier today you were trying to show me your pussy, and now you won’t let me see your naked body?” His head tilts to the side. He’s always an observant one, especially when it comes to your body.
“It was inappropriate at the time,” he nods his head as he slides out of the chair, “You stay over there,” if he comes any closer, you’ll be begging him to lift you onto his cock.
“Why?”
“If you want me closer to you, tell me how the conversation with Tati went,” Curtis sighs. He settles back into the chair, and faces towards you. His hands slide up and down his thighs, and his legs spread ever so slightly. “That bad?”
“It wasn’t bad. She’s fighting a lot. But I told her essentially I didn’t care, and gave her a time frame of two weeks, and I’m filing for divorce,” you take a step closer, staying squatted in the pool. “Put your arms down,” you shake your head no again, and he playfully growls.
“She left,” another step forward. “She’s going to stay at Monica’s tonight. You know when we bought this house, she jokingly said that if we ever divorced, she knew I would keep Poet, so I could just have it. She’ll give me full custody. But I need to be honest with you, so if you please give me a little peek,” he’s cheeky. Like showing yourself is going to make this any better.
You drop both arms from around your chest, and Curtis gets even more comfortable. Leaning back in the chair. “Stand up,” you shake your head no again. He wanted a little peek. “You’re frustrating tonight.”
“And you’re admitting to needing to see my tits to tell me this?”
“Yes. It relaxes me,” at least he’s honest. You stand up out of the water. Streams of water fall over your breasts, dripping down your hardened nipples before you dip back into the water. “You are a tease. Go up the stairs, and spread your legs.”
“The only person that will be spreading my legs will be you,” he palms his crotch, groaning. “Curtis,” you warn. He could have it all. Well. Maybe. Maybe not tonight.
“Tati doesn’t want to be a mom, and I will gladly take that off her hands. But…I don’t date to have someone in my life. I date for someone to be in hers, too, and maybe eventually, no time soon, adoption. I usually don’t date. In fact, I told Tati that’s why she went along with whatever childish game this was. Because she never saw me settling down. She thought I was always going to be fucking women at their places.”
“Theirs?” You cock up an eyebrow. Of course Curtis would be into casual sex. He slept with you after knowing you for a couple of hours. But keeping things at their places, keeps them away from his home. His safe space.
“I never bring women into my life. And I’m just a dick in theirs. I didn’t care to be more than that. Because I don’t want to share my daughter with them. Stand up all the way,” you do without hesitation, but keep your arms around your chest, “Now walk closer to me, I need to see you better,” you do. It’s not a slow crawl, it’s a normal speed. But the time just drags on as his eyes roam over your drenched body.
He stands, meeting you halfway, and his hands grab onto your hips. Sliding back behind your back as he pulls you closer, and presses your body against his. Your skin lights on fire at the feeling of his body against yours. All hard lines, and even harder cock pressing against you, and wanting to be free, “And yet, I don’t mind sharing Poet with you.”
“This is too soon,” is it? Is it too soon? Or are you too scared?
“I know, and I still can’t stop it. I don’t know how. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to be casual with you. I never saw Tati making this place her home, and she won’t be pretending to anymore. But I need to know if you see yourself becoming Poet’s mother in the future. Tati wants to be an aunt, so…” dizzy. There’s no other word than that. Whiplash maybe. But you don’t want it to be.
Yours and Curtis’ relationship has been teasing, and slightly sexual. Ultimatums about the future, but this is for real. This is the future for a little girl. “What if I don’t want that?”
“Then give me this one night, and I’ll back away. Poet needs a mother, and it’s not Tati. I’m not saying you need to adopt her tomorrow. I’m saying she doesn’t talk much, she knows you more than her mother. Her mother is nothing but an entity to her, but you are the woman that takes care of her. I already see her preferring you over her mom. And I want you, but I need you to eventually want her. Or at least see you wanting to be her mother.”
Wiggling your arms off your chest, you sink a hand low, and cup his bulge. “Do you always get horny thinking about a future with me?”
“Everything about you makes me horny. Thinking about you pregnant, seeing you make supper, watching you sneak to Poet’s room to kiss her goodnight, watching you watching me. Everything you do is sexual to me.”
You back his body up to the chair, pushing him down onto the seat before you climb in his lap. Straddling his body while you grind on him. His cock throbs on your core, and you’ve never wanted anything more than for him to sink into you. But if you’re to take things slow, you need to just get this pent up energy out, “We’re not teenagers.”
“And we’re taking this slow,” you mewl. Staring at Curtis through your lashes.
“Why?”
“Because it’s not about us anymore, is it?” He groans again. Letting his head fall back on his shoulders as he looks at the stars. Staring at you was like staring at a dream that he can’t make a reality, “Was it ever about just us?”
“That night in the hotel I was not thinking about my daughter as I was fucking you, no.”
“You never thought you’d see me again?” It’s something you’ve pondered many times. Because you never thought you’d see him again. Even if he left his card. He was to be a cock for pleasure that night. And now you see a relationship.
He sits up, shaking his head no. His eyes move over your body as you work his aching cock. This clearly isn’t enough for him, and sex right now seems rushing. But you need something. You’re dying inside. You need him, but your relationship thus far has been built on forbidden romance and sex.
“And now I can’t imagine not seeing you again,” you move faster, undulating your hips with so much enthusiasm. Writhing over him, and he’s mesmerized. It’s like a beautiful little dance that you do just for him. A private performance only for his eyes. A girl he knows has this filthy streak, but you are the perfect balance of lady and freak.
You are his perfect match. A friend, a lover, a fucking porn star with the way you’re moaning, the possible mom to his daughter, his best friend, his everything. A mate for him in all walks of life. Getting off on dry humping him in the pool and it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Well…he has been inside you, but this sexiness is different.
You’re frustrated, so you use him. “The tension is clouding our judgment, we — we — we need this.”
“Aw, is my little saving Grace getting off on this?” You nod your head yes, moving fast. “There’s a good girl. Ride me like you own me,” you move hard and fast over him. Leaning forward to nip and kiss on his neck. Taking out your frustrations on his freckled sensitive skin. “Because you do.”
You bite on his neck delicately, and give him a hard suck, while he bucks up his hips, meeting you while he blows his load into the water. Your movements slow until you’re just panting on top of him. “You know you do. Do you feel better now?”
“Yes.”
“So now what?”
“You can take me on a date on your bike. You’re the father, so you’re going to have to figure out a babysitter,” you move away from his neck, and smile at him. His eyes freely roam over your heaving chest. With a smirk, you lean back. Practically laying back on his legs so you spread your own, “You can look, but you can’t touch just yet.”
“But she’s swollen,” he says looking into the water. “And she’s blurry,” he starts to lift up your bottom half, but you sit up straight, shaking a finger in his face. “That’s not fair!”
“Proper date. And then we’ll see how I feel about something more serious with you.”
“You want it,” he teases as you saunter towards the stairs of the pool. You bend over to pick your towel up, but don’t wrap it around you before walking towards the pool house. “Can you sleep in the bed with me?”
“Find us a sitter first!” You scream over your shoulder. It’s getting harder and harder to walk away from him. Almost impossible to tell him no, while you’re dying to let him take you where he wants to go. You want him. You want everything that comes with him, but this is moving too fast.
Right?
You pace back and forth in your pool house, wrapping the towel around your body because you seem so cold. Your house feels miles away from him now. Any distance between you and Curtis feels too far away. He’s leaving her. He’s leaving his wife. You have spent months avoiding the thing and person you want, and it’s him. It’s a life with him and his daughter. It’s crazy. Absurd, and still you’re walking towards the door. Holding your hand over the handle, and then freezing.
Is it worth the risk now? Have you tortured yourself and waited long enough?
You have. Jerking the door open, you stand transfixed in the doorway, staring up at the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He couldn’t wait either. Meeting you at your door because he was needy for more. His azure eyes look more soft than predatory, “I don’t want to be too forward, but I don’t want you in the pool house. You seem so…”
”Far away?” He nods, holding his hand up for you to take. Glancing down, you grab the appendage, and pull him close to your chest.
“But I’m not fucking you. Poet will probably wake up in about twenty minutes. And I think you’re right, date first. But until the date, can you just sleep in the bed with me?”
He’s walking backwards, pulling you towards his own bedroom. “Can we do no sex?”
“Sweetheart, my cock has been aching to get back inside of you for months, what’s one more night? Or a few days? It’ll be what it’ll have to be, but I can’t have you away from me anymore. And we could get in a quickie, but the next time I’m inside of you, I’m going to take such sweet precious time. Because I know what it’s like to have to live without that sweet cunt, and now, I know what the woman is like.”
It’d have to wait. You’d have to wait. You’ve made it this far. He was worth it. A crazy night of picking up a man on the side of the road has led you to this incredible man with the sweetest daughter, and the possibility of forever.
“I think we’ll manage until our date. Should I warn you I sleep naked?”
“No. Absolutely not. You’re keeping those tits, and that ass covered, or I’m sucking on something until Poet wakes up.”
“Wanna bet?” You squeal, dropping his hand before running towards his door. Curtis rolls his eyes before chasing you. A playfully little romp around the yard to get out any extra annoying butterflies.
“I’m sucking or eating something if you sleep naked, you make your choice.”
“We’re sleeping!”
“Then all of that,” his hands sway over your body, “Has got to be covered,” you were only teasing. But seeing him having fun about sex sends a divine feeling of comfort all over your body. Sex shouldn’t just sweep you off your feet, it should be fun, playful, and wet, and passionate, but still fun.
“Deal. After the first date, I’m sleeping naked.”
“And I’ll fuck you asleep, and fuck you in your sleep,” he winks, walking into the room before you, “Come on, my lady. Let’s cuddle until the baby awakes. No touching. Just cuddling,” you can do that. And you look forward to it. All night. Every night.
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